#this post is brought to you by my despair every time i look at houses for sale in my area

[wizardsimper]

I don't know if it's the effects of the current economy or what but the Benirus Manor quest in Oblivion is so real because rather than vacate my haunted house that I bought for a super low price I'd just track down the last surviving member of the original family who owned it to lift the curse

Ain't no way I'd ever find a deal on a house as good as that again

[attic-club-sandwich]

How they are Handling your Disappearance. Hello all, get ready for some more Nightbringer Angst! This is a little drabble (bullet point style) of how I think the "Present Day Demon Brothers" are handling your sudden disappearance. Honestly I hate thinking too deeply about NB, it brings me to tears. I can't even imagine the pain and anxiety the brothers are feeling without knowing where their beloved human went and why. Anyways, grab your tissues and I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated!

Taglist: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @sassykattery @amberrskiies @obey-me-posts @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @siofrantic

Part 2 : Side Characters

Part 3: MC Returns

Rose divider by @/firefly-graphics

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They’ll always remember the exact day and time you disappeared. It was their day off from RAD, and you had been in the Devildom since Solomon had brought you by for some training sessions. You practically begged the sorcerer to allow you to visit the House of Lamentation, and Solomon happily obliged. You really didn't have to convince him too much, though. The brothers were so happy and surprised to see you again so soon, and they had planned on taking you out for dinner that evening. Except you never showed. They spent hours searching for you. Those hours easily turned into days. Then the days turned into weeks. There was no trace of you left behind. Where did you go?

💙Lucifer💙

He’s terrified. He doesn��t know why or how you disappeared, but he feels responsible.

He spends every waking moment looking for signs of you. Trying to piece together what or who took you from him.

Knows he has to be strong for the rest of their brothers.

But when he can no longer feel your bond with you through the pact, he feels the unbearable weight of despair crack through his usual stoic demeanor. 

He cries. He hasn’t cried like this since their fall.

Lucifer hardly sleeps. His brothers notice the bags under his eyes. How he no longer cares what he looks like in front of them. 

He becomes distant again, shutting himself in his room or study. 

If you thought his hatred for Solomon was strong before, it’s infinitely worse now. 

He doesn’t know who else to blame, so the silver haired sorcerer becomes his reasoning for your disappearance. 

The eldest demon has his hands around Solomon’s throat, Mammon and Beel having to pull him off. 

“Lucifer are ya nuts?! We gotta have him alive if we have any hope in finding MC!” Mammon had scolded him as he became limp in Beel’s strong grip.

Solomon promised he’d bring you back.

He better not dare to show his face back here until you are with him, safe and sound. 

💛Mammon💛

The normally confident and self assured demon becomes silent. Angry. Afraid. 

 Aside from their initial searching for you, he doesn’t leave your room. 

He can’t feel your pact with him anymore, and it sends him spiraling. 

He buries himself into your pillows, inhaling your lingering scent.

It’s faint, but he takes what he can get

His eyes are puffy and red from crying, and he can’t stand sitting around doing nothing.

He goes out every night, flying over the Devildom, searching.

When he can’t, Mammon sends his familiars out searching for you too, exploring the areas that he can’t reach. 

The ravens are good at finding things, and if they can’t find you, then he’s screwed. 

Each time they come back with nothing. 

Occasionally, they bring him Grimm they’ve found or a valuable piece of treasure. 

But you’re the only treasure he gives a shit about right now. 

When he goes to retreat back to his room, he runs into Lucifer. 

He looks terrible. 

But Mammon can’t blame him. He probably noticed his swollen face and unwashed hair, too. 

He sends you texts every day. Even if you don’t get them. 

Normally he’d be grossed out by his own sappiness, but he doesn’t care. 

He needs you.

MC, wherever you are, just know I love you. So goddamn much. Please come back.

I miss you.

I hope you’re thinking of me, too. 

🧡Leviathan🧡

Leviathan always told you he wouldn’t know what he’d do without you. 

But he really didn’t want to really experience what life would be without you!

Is this some cruel joke?!

It’s got to be! One of his alternate universe video games went wrong again right?

Except it isn’t. You’re actually gone, and he actually has no idea what to do with himself. 

He cries. Alot. 

To mask his tears from his brothers, he spends a lot of time in his fish tank with Henry 2.0. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Henry, but he longs for you. His soulmate.

He sends Lotan to search the Devildom seas, far and wide. He had asked him to listen for any information of sightings of you. 

 But so far, there’s been nothing. No word. No trace of you.

He lays curled up in his bathtub, a laptop balanced on his lap as he watches anime to try and distract himself from you.

But oh no, is this your favorite episode?! He turns it off, shoving the laptop away and fresh tears falling down his cheeks. 

I’m so useless, he thinks. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and I can’t even find a human!

Levi’s self depreciative behavior gets worse.

He blames himself for not being with you when you disappeared.

He begins picking at his skin and nails, an old, nervous habit resurfacing from back when he first fell into the Devildom. 

His brothers do what they can to reassure him, but it’s no use. 

He needs you. Please come back home soon, MC.

💚Satan💚

Satan’s temper tantrums are back.

He didn’t ever think he’d revert back to this, but now that you’re gone….

Accidentally lost his temper and in a wrath filled frenzy blew through the wall in the living room. Lucifer threatened to tie him up. 

Normally the prideful demon would have just done it, but something about his older brother was different nowadays.

He feels it too, he thought. The pacts are gone.

Spends sleepless nights in the library reading any book he can find about curses.

Did you become invisible? He had no other explanation.

Was it the work of some demon on the street who decided they didn’t like you that day?

He’s frustrated because he feels like he doesn’t know anything.

He knows nothing of your sudden disappearance

Like Mammon, he sends his cats out looking for you. Any sign of you. 

But they also bring back nothing but a dead mouse here and there. 

Normally he’d be delighted by their gift to him, but it’s lost its appeal.

When he’s worried about you, nothing else matters. 

Lucifer did allow him to keep a cat in the house though. 

Also uses his personal connections from all three realms to look for you. 

But it’s no use. 

When he’s not in the library, he’s shut away in his room. 

His brothers think for a moment that he’s disappeared as well, but they find him asleep on his bed, his cheeks tear stained and a book on his chest. 

Please come home, MC. I need you.

💖Asmodeus💖

Asmo’s love for you rivals the love he feels for himself. 

Now that you are gone, he feels he has no love left to give for anyone.

He feels empty. 

The Avatar of Lust takes pride in his appearance, always making sure he’s presentable and looking his best. 

But not knowing where you are and if you are safe or not is driving him mad. 

His brothers haven’t seen him this way in a long time. 

Asmo’s eyes are puffy and red, his cheeks and nose raw and swollen from the endless tears. 

He spends hours in the bath, thinking of anything he may have said or done to cause you to leave him like this. 

He takes up the habit of sleeping a lot. He wasn’t sure how Belphie could do it all the time. But now he understands. 

Asmo can also throw a good temper tantrum. 

The day he realized he could no longer feel your pact with him sent him over the edge.

But afterwards he felt embarrassed, even though his brothers will never blame him for expressing his feelings for you. 

When Solomon leaves to go find you, he feels hopeful, putting all the trust he has in your master to find you.

But it also hurts. He hasn’t left Solomon’s side since your disappearance, taking comfort in the bond he still has with him.

He’ll never take it for granted again. 

MC, I can’t take this! If you can hear me, please come home, my lost little lamb… I love you…

❤️Beelzebub❤️

Beel is quiet. 

He’s another one that feels responsible for your disappearance.  

His heart is aching, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

Thankfully, he has his twin by his side to reassure him. But it’s not enough. 

He needs to know where you’ve gone. 

He needs to save you. 

Beel’s appetite is all over the place. One minute, he can’t stop eating and the next, he’s not hungry at all. 

His brothers got really concerned when he didn’t eat for 2 whole days.

The only hunger he feels is the need to figure out where you went. 

Not only is he worried about you, he’s worried for his brothers. 

He knows they are suffering too, especially with the noticeable absence of your pact. 

Beel has always been protective of them, after all.

He stops going to the gym. He doesn’t feel like it. 

Instead, he cuddles up in bed with Belphie, holding him close with tears silently rolling down his cheeks. 

Beel you’re squeezing too hard, he hears his twin mumble. But he doesn’t care.

He’s almost lost his brother before, and now your disappearance has him terrified. 

Please, don’t take anyone else away from me. 

I love you, MC, please wherever you are, stay safe…

💜Belphegor💜

Belphie’s temper is a short fuse. More than usual, anyways. 

He doesn’t want to talk to anyone but Beel. 

He tries to retreat to the attic to get some peace and quiet from his brothers losing their collective shit. 

But he ends up drowning in a wave of memories as soon as he walks through the door. 

He collapses on the bed and hugs his cow pillow to his body as he sobs, his body curling in on itself. 

Dammit MC, look at what you do to me…you need to come home…

When he isn’t sleeping, he helps soothe the rest of his brothers to sleep. He sees their dreams, knows the thoughts that are keeping them awake.

He wants to help, but figures this could be the only way he knows how. 

He doesn’t feel your presence at all, though. 

That must mean you aren’t anywhere nearby, or even in the same Realm. He knows your pact with him is gone. 

He felt it break the day you disappeared. 

But sometimes he feels a flutter of something in the place where the mark used to be. 

He can’t explain why. 

Belphie often finds himself slipping into bed with his twin at night. 

They were inseparable before, but even more so now that you aren’t around. 

I can’t lose him too, I have to stay by his side, he thinks. He snuggles into Beel’s chest as his brother holds him close, afraid he might disappear too at any second.

He misses the days when you were nestled comfortably right between the two of them. 

You need to come back MC, you’re our missing piece. 

[countlessimagines]

The Easy Love ( Luther Hargreeves x Reader )

Summary: Luther never thought he’d move on from Sloane, but then you begin to work with him

A/N: I’ve held a special place for Luther in my heart and I’m happy to see people love him this season!

Warnings: working at a club, I guess? Lol, general drinking and Luther being a “professional dancer”, injuries

TUA MASTERLIST

-

Luther was grateful he didn’t have to be confined to his ape body anymore, but it also meant he didn’t have Sloane at his side. He tried to find her for a couple of years, searching through every record in libraries, police reports, newspapers, but there was never any trace or record of her.

He knew he had to move on, because if he didn’t, he would be stuck in an endless loop of despair.

He couldn’t really find work suited for him since he had been either fighting for the Umbrella Academy or when he was stuck in the 60’s - also fighting. One thing led to another, and he was now wearing cheap costumes and showing off his body for a lack luster crowd.

He tried his best to stay positive, especially for his family who slowly broke apart more and more as the years went on. While he had hope that everyone would come together, especially for their niece Grace, it never seemed to work out.

It also did not help with the fact that he had no where to stay, so he resided in the broken down Hargreeves’ house. It wasn’t ideal but he made the best of it with decorating and finding specific curtains that reminded him of their childhood.

On the outside, Luther’s life looked like a horrid mess. But, he still kept his smile and his love for his siblings.

The bar he worked at didn’t exactly bring in a ton of crowds, and waiters and bar tenders began to drop like flies. It was inevitable that a “Now Hiring” sign was posted on the side of the building.

Luther was in the middle of doing his iconic Space man routine to a crowd of one when the door opened and light flooded into the large room.

He hesitated in ripping off his pants when his eyes landed on you. His boss cleared his throat on the side of the stage, loud enough to snap Luther out of his train of thoughts that only consisted of I need to talk to her immediately.

Your eyes caught his own as he had to continue his routine, and next thing you knew - you were staring at his silver speedo. Luther prided himself in his work, he really did - but he had never felt more embarrassed than he did in that moment.

You gave him a smile and approached his boss, handing over a resume.

Luther begrudgingly finished his set and collected his clothes before running back stage.

Your eyes lingered after him, wondering why a good looking man like him was stuck in a dump like this?

But Luther was thinking nearly the same thing. Why was a beautiful woman like you trying to work in a place like this?

Luther changed back into his normal clothes just as you were being brought back stage to get a uniform and apron. He smiled at you sheepishly and you returned the gesture.

You were officially hired so your boss introduced the two of you, “Hargreeves, this is (Y/L/N).”

Luther extended a very eager hand and you grasped it happily. He nearly melted at the touch of your soft hand.

“You can call me (Y/N).” You said and dropped your hand. “Shall I expect to be graced with your routines often?” You didn’t mean it to come across as a snarky remark, but more of a I can’t wait to work with you way.

Your boss grunted at the obvious twinkle in both of your guys’ eyes. “You’ll both be working the same schedule. Luther, give her the rundown, won’t you?”

Luther shook his head yes immediately and nearly jumped towards you.

He gestured to the back of the house where the kitchen was, and you followed him with a gentle smile.

-

Being a waitress for a subpar bar wasn’t ideal, but working with Luther made it worth it.

You two would take your lunch breaks at the same time, often coming up with absurd food combinations that tasted delicious. He was definitely a foodie, and was very adamant on you trying a burger with a layer of fried Mac and cheese shoved in the middle.

He didn’t make much money, and neither did you, but when he bought you non-slip shoes because he noticed yours were tattered, you had to lunge yourself to be able to hug him around his neck.

Luther always defended you if your boss tried to talk bad about how much tips you brought in. If it was a bad day, it was your fault for the lack of tips. If it was a good day, your boss claimed it was because of the amazing special he was offering. It aggravated Luther to no ends, so he reassured you that your boss was an idiot and probably took home the middle aged ladies that were there at 10am on a Tuesday. It made you giggle even if he had said it a million times.

You brought Luther baby powder for the days that required more… pole work than usual. You helped him apply it to hard to reach areas and tried not to blush at the way he watched you.

It was easy to work with him, it came so natural to him to protect you. And it came so natural for you to fall for him.

He always made sure to walk you to your car at night because he didn’t trust the sleezy drunk men who kept tipping you like you were the one dancing.

And one particular night, someone got a bit too handsy with you when you tried to tell him that the bartender was cutting him off.

“Why don’t you make me a drink and we can take this party to my place?” The drunk was now in your face, spitting almost every other word.

You were backed into a wall and Luther’s blood boiled in an instant. He jumped off the stage, only in his Speedo, and slammed so hard into the drunk that they flew into one of the tables.

You screamed and tried to help Luther, but he was in such a state of fury that he couldn’t really register anything other than the sound of his fist colliding with the drunk’s face.

Finally your boss snapped Luther out of it and shoved him off the drunk. You were quick to help Luther up and reach up to place your hands on his cheeks. “Hey, look at me. Let’s go.”

He forced a nod, guilt beginning to flood his system as he noticed you shaking.

You both went to the back where the lockers were, and sat him down. He winced as you grabbed his sliced knuckles. You draped his robe over his shoulders and left to get the first aid kit.

Luther sat there, shoulders slouched as he registered what he had done. He didn’t regret protecting you - but that part of him that he had hidden away, the one who did underground boxing while he waited for his family to find him - it had returned. He didn’t want to go back to that mindset, the days where he had no one to patch him up.

He was taken out of his trace as you knelt before him and began to tend to his cuts. He winced as you poured the rubbing alcohol on them.

You patted his arm reassuringly, and made sure to kiss the dry part of his hands.

Luther’s cheeks had been previously red from the adrenaline rush, but now they blushed just from the simple act from you.

His wounds weren’t severe, so you quickly wrapped his knuckles and held them delicately in your hands when you were finished.

The room was quiet, other than the buzzing sound of the music from the front room. You two sat there, staring at each other with such an intense passion.

“I’m sorry-“ “thank you.”

Luther was caught off guard but you just chuckled at the two of you talking at the same time. He gestured for you to continue with a slight smile.

“Thank you, Luther.” You said and stood up, now looking down to him while he continued to sit. “Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“You’re welcome… But I’m also sorry for getting so violent… I haven’t been that way in years and this guilt is flooding into me like a river because I never wanted you to see the side of me that I was ashamed of.” Luther’s eyes drifted downwards and he sniffled. “You don’t deserve someone who comes from my kind of past. Don’t even get me started on the moon.”

You were confused but didn’t want him to see it, so you lifted his chin so he would meet your eyes. “If that is your past, I will accept it. Because you have shown me nothing but genuine respect and care. And plus, I don’t think you could really scare me away if I’m okay with your dancing.”

Luther laughed but decided to make a bold move by placing his hands on your hips. You seemed to be more than happy with his decision as you dipped your head down closer to him.

He took it as his chance and pressed his lips on yours in a feather light kiss. You smiled into it, and knowing Luther would be a gentleman, you pushed closer to him.

He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you impossibly closer, his lips chasing yours in a heated kiss that was long overdue.

You placed your hands on his broad chest, completely ignoring the fact you were both still at work, where anyone could walk in to see you and Luther passionately making out.

But neither of you cared, as you were finally in Luther’s arms, and he was kissing you after he had dreamt of a future with you. One where he could be with you forever.

And in that dingy changing room, you and Luther didn’t want to let go of one another.

[grxndprix]

yan!gojo sneakpeek

--take this sneakpeek of an upcoming oneshot lmao more notes at the end

tw; implied noncon, chasing !!

--

“What happened? You were so confident a few seconds ago, sweetheart, don’t pussy out now.” Satoru spoke nonchalantly, an air of ease to each movement. He took the lapse in response to lean closer and cage the girl in with his broad arms. She could only respond with more silence, an infinitesimal hesitation stretching further and further into oblivion — The lone and level sands stretch far away.

King of Kings — That is Satoru Gojo’s title. He was the god of this world, the next, the next, the next—  Gaze upon his works, ye mighty, look upon this rabbit caught fresh on the arrow, and despair.

The apartment suffocated all life out of it, holstering lain two corpses — One stuck in metamorphisis while the other decayed — Both rotting. Blue walls, once a sunny sky’s color now the endless void of an ocean, gray ceiling matted with the flickering, broken light. She’d known damn well Satoru had a better house, some wealthy mansion-like place, but he never offered for her to stay there, he always just showed up here at hers — And she realized he was waiting for her to beg. For her to rely on him.

But, she didn’t, never. Instead, she worked her own job. She paid her own bills, she paid her rent, she bought all the necessities. She lived for herself. If her own boyfriend took notice of her hardships and decided to stay a sadist? To wait for her to end up begging for his help, to land on his doorstep like mutton on a silver platter? 

Hell fucking no.

She assumed the deity just got tired of her stubbornness, because what was once just annoying, his ignorance had become like white noise to her — But recently, she knew he’d been sabotaging her. Coming over more, using up more of her utilities, breaking things she’d try to excuse with a strained smile, ignoring his smug one — He was getting impatient.

The other, well, larger issue that bothered [name] was the fact that he put nothing into the relationship. She was the one with intimacy issues, but she had to initiate every bit of touch, or else he’d ignore her completely. She was the one with a busy schedule, juggling a terribly-paying job, but she paid at every restaurant because Satoru conveniently forgot his wallet when she knows it’s in his pocket.

So, [name] had tried to end it. Gathering up every bit of confidence she had, fighting against the memories of sunset walks and shy handholding — They’d never even kissed — And texted him that they were over. Why give someone who didn’t put anything into the relationship any kind of real closure?

One could assume where that led to.

Here he was, snow-white hair and all, glare piercing straight through her skull, as if it could see everything — And honestly, it probably could.

The silence remained of course, but [name] brought a loose fist to her face, slow and steady. A notion that could be passed off as her brushing away a tear or maybe even rubbing her eyes—

Until her other fist came up as well in a right hook, aimed directly at Satoru’s face. It was stopped by some invisible force that she had no care nor time to question, because the man had been caught off guard. In that split second, the king of kings’ knees threatened to bend.

[name] knew that some demented thought that she wouldn’t hurt him had passed through his mind, which sent a partial shiver down her back, but it only fueled her legs to move. She ran past him, then past the guest bedroom, and straight into her own. He covered the only actual escape, so she needed to barricade and call the police—

A hand stopped the door before she could close it.

☆ OKAYY time for a debrief !! i !! am !! so !! sorry!! for disappearing oh my god jsdhkj i literally ran into the WORST writing block ever, and then studying hit, and then my hiphop recitals fucked with everythingg ughh --- anyway, back to the point !! i am going to try to get back to posting as frequently as i can, especially now that winter breaks here. side note; i also have covid and a supposed csf leak (brain fluid leak) !! doc says ill be fine dwdw lmao no wonder im gonna fail my classes

☆ anyways hope this sneak peek builds up anticipation for the full thing which will be, ofc, full on smut/noncon for my readerss -- byeeeee see u when i post it !!!

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Spicy plz I’m so bored ;-;— could you grace me with some headcanons for yandere America with an s/o who seems oblivious to his tendencies but is actually just. Pretty okay with it? Like they feel like this is the best they’re gonna get so they may as well make the most of it? Despite my casual tone I’m very okay with you ripping my heart out with angst or despair in any way you see fit <3

Probably not my best work but still hope you like it!

Okay warning ya'll this post is SPICY also it goes over abusive relationships so if that's not for you I suggest that you turn away now.

Your problems all began when you were let into the real world after college. It would be easy, they said. You just needed your degree, they said. Then it would be ‘smooth sailing’. 

Sure. SURE. That was a load of total bullshit. You now had to battle tooth and nail just to have the basic necessities barely. Your future looked bleak. ‘The Dream’ that originally you wanted to achieve: Get married, have two kids, have a house you owned, and maybe a fancy car that yu could show off and keep up with the Joneses. Best them even. 

You simply wanted more time with your family and friends, so you avoided applying to ghost jobs and attending interviews that ultimately led nowhere. You did freelance work like writing gigs, catering, and the occasional art commission in order to keep your head above the water. 

Some days were easy, but most were difficult. Keeping the tiny flame ignited within you to keep you going was a 24 hr 7-day 7-day-a-week kind of job. With each passing day, finding the will to exist was getting harder. 

‘Why do anything if I’m constantly feeling empty?’ 

You felt as though you were on a pitch-black road where your flashlight could only reach 2 ft in front of you. 

That was until Alfred burst into your life in the early morning sun rays that broke through the deep blue-black of the nighttime sky. His outward warmth brought the birds to life and made the flowers blossom. He was the bright person you needed to be around you. Even if that meant you tolerated his sinister tendencies that you commonly wrote off as him being an excellent protective boyfriend in a somewhat twisted way. 

Alfred always knows where you are. He ensures the Find My iPhone tracker is activated and shares your location with him at all times. When you first saw it, and he didn’t even bother to ask or even tell you that he did so… You simply ignored it. He was your boyfriend, and that’s what good boyfriends do…..protect their highly vulnerable S/O and part of that is knowing where you are at all times. 

Things don’t escalate if you’re incredibly passive and are compliant with the rules that Alfred sets for you. You will have a lack of privacy. He gets far more possessive if individuals (s) in your midst are suspicious or seem to be far too friendly for his liking. You become afraid of him when he raises his voice while interrogating you about one of your friends or acquaintances. Alfred’s fist will have made another gaping hole in the wall, which sometimes makes you fear for your life or your family. You would nearly jump out of your skin every time you came home & you saw his infamous frown combined with sapphire blues holding back famished flames, needy for more people to devour if they dared to come in between the two of you. 

Anyone who dared to challenge him on any of his behavior would be silenced swiftly. Most of the time, his victims would never be seen again; other times, they’d end up with some horrific injury or illness that prevented his targets from having the willpower to fight back or squeal. 

You always wondered why it had become much more difficult for you to maintain genuine friendships. You glossed over the fact that Alfred demanded 110% of your attention. This makes it hard for you to have a life outside of him. He also has enforced a curfew on you. 

‘He does that so some creep doesn’t try to kidnap me.’ That would be one of the excuses that you tell yourself in order to excuse his behavior. Besides, how long has it been since you were able to get a date before him? Two or three years, probably more, since so much time has passed since you’ve had a serious long-term relationship. You couldn’t really remember at this point. 

Whenever he objects to you leaving the house, 98% of the time, you employ some tactics when dealing with him. Negotiation. You primarily used this tactic when the effects of becoming stir-crazy have become unbearable. You feared that you would be swallowed up by his home and never seen again. 

“Alfred….” your eyes will search the hardwood floor for the perfect combination of words that will assist in getting you to some level of freedom. 

“I really want some fresh air….and…it’s been forever since we’ve had a cute date on in the park….or going to my favorite restaurant that is on the promenade….” Your eyes cautiously climb up to meet his. You braced yourself for the possible avalanche that was going to careen towards you if you didn’t plant your ice ax in neutral snow. 

“Where I first began to fall in love with you truly!” You blurted out with partially feigned fervor. Enough energy was behind your words that you could see Alfred’s shoulder relax. His freshly trimmed eyebrows were raised in curiosity and disbelief. However, he wasn’t entirely convinced yet. You needed to stroke his ego a little more. He needed reassurance that you were utterly smitten with him. His continued silence was a sign for you to continue with your argument. 

“I know when the last sun rays of the day hit your magnificent sky blues, I know that we were meant to be together.” It will feel like an eternity has passed before Alfred finally responds. 

“Alright, babe.” 

You hear him rise from his spot on the couch & make his way towards you. 

“We can go tonight, but you’ve got to get dressed in something better than that~” Alfred will have pinned you to the front door as he whispers in your ear his other demands he has for you. Usually, it’s that of a sexual nature. Alfred does have you do things like: have you wear a skimpy outfit while you iron his clothes, and give him head while he reads comics or plays video games. You’re not allowed to deny him anything that he asks of you when you work out a ‘deal’ with him. If you do you’ll have to do double of whatever it is along with being chained to the bed for a few days. 

Essentially dear reader you have Stockholm Syndrome. Regardless of what torture he puts you through, you wouldn’t want your life any other way. After all, it was Alfred who brought forth the morning sun in your life which felt as though you were cursed to be within a state of eternal midnight. 

Who were you to complain when he saved you from being on the streets whose jagged teeth had the flesh of the unfortunate on them but always eager for more.

So what if you were a little traumatized?

So what if you sometimes you had scars whenever you did something to set the sleeping volcano off?

It was better than being awash amidst the sea of people who merely became a number to add to a statistical data set. 

Alfred does weaponize sex a lot within your relationship. Not only is it a bargaining tool whenever you are desperate to meet your social needs as a human, but you use it to stop his occasional rampages, get some level of privacy (for example, showering by yourself or being able to keep a dairy without him snooping in it) 

Since Alfred is an exhibitionist & will never turn down an opportunity to showcase his power over you, he will have you do extreme things with him. He’ll demand that you have sex in public with him, like in the park, at a movie theatre, at Disney World on a dark ride, or even on the top of the roof of a government building. If it’s risky as hell with an epic story to tell, then Alfred will want to rail you there. Bonus: he will want you to be butt-naked in the car as well. Alfred will want you to feel every ounce of embarrassment, shame, & every emotion in between that makes you feel vulnerable and powerless. However, this punishment will only occur if you’re stupid enough to try and plan an escape away from him or say something that majorly punctures his ego. 

No matter how much he made you cry, made you bleed after sex, siphoned you off from your support system, and kept you firmly under his thumb… your low self-esteem told you that this was what you deserved. This was normal. This was how all couples behaved.

[aneurinallday]

Green Eyes

Chapter 20: Lost

“Come away from the window,” Thomas said one morning while opening his mail. “You’ll get a chill.”

Alec ignored him, remaining motionless in his chair, staring out through the curtains.

It was April. Three months since Alec and Clara had been banished from Arrow House. Three months since Cobb had torn a child from its father’s arms, and taken her whereabouts with him to the grave. Despite Thomas’s best efforts, weeks of fruitless searching had turned up nothing.

He feared for Alec’s health. Every day that Alec spent without his daughter was a quiet little death - his body endured but his spirit was wasting away. He had no appetite, and no will to look after himself - he had to be made to eat and bathe. When he wasn’t passed out from exhaustion, he would sit in the chair and stare lifelessly out of the window, retreating into some secret world that only he could see. That was where he now sat, unresponsive to Thomas’s commands.

“I’ve brought you something,” Thomas said, “Here.”

He handed Alec a flat object, about the width of a book, still wrapped in the brown paper it had arrived in. Alec looked at it, then up at him. Confused but too tired to ask questions, he carefully removed the packing paper.

It wasn’t a book, but a picture frame of gilded wood, and in it was the Shelby family portrait taken on Christmas Day. The whole clan was assembled on the grand staircase of Arrow House, a gloomy-faced Thomas brooding in the centre, and Alec smiling at his side. Visible in Alec’s arms was Clara.

“I had Frances post it from Warwick,” Thomas said. “Took a while to dig it out.”

Alec didn’t reply. He held the grey picture in both hands and stared silently at it. He and Clara were barely the size of a penny, but it was the only glimpse of her he’d had in three months. Far from the comfort Thomas had hoped it would bring, Alec began to cry quietly.

“I know it won’t replace the one Cobb burned,” Thomas continued, “But I want you to keep it. At least until we can take a new one. Once Clara’s back, we’ll buy her a nice dress and hire a photographer. I know a studio where they have beautiful painted backdrops…”

“Did you find anything today?” Alec asked.

“Not yet. But we will.”

Seeing the despair in Alec’s face, Thomas added:

“We’ve already crossed off a dozen leads. That means we’re getting closer. It’s only a matter of time, eh?”

He rubbed Alec’s shoulder. Alec rose from the chair and limped stiffly across the room. He placed the picture on the nightstand where he could always see it, lay down on the bed, and cried.

The next day, Thomas continued his search, and the day after, and the day after - dutifully chasing false leads around the West Midlands, each disappointment feeling worse than the last.

Whenever a potential clue arose, he was faced with the impossible decision of whether or not to tell Alec. Clara’s father deserved to be kept in the loop about her, but the constant cycle of raising and crushing his hopes was too much for him to bear. It was almost kinder to tell him nothing rather than to torment him with false hope. So to spare him the pain, Thomas took the blows upon himself instead.

Yet even as he searched, he tried not to think of the parents who may have already adopted Clara and begun to love her. He would have to take her away from them, like she’d been taken away from Alec. To them, he would become Cobb.

On a bleak afternoon, Alec lay curled up on the narrow bed, his eyes reddened and face swollen from crying. Thomas sat in the chair beside him, peeling an orange in silence. Alec watched dully as the pieces of peel fell one by one.

“Mister Shelby?” he mumbled.

“Yes?”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Yes. My Gypsy mother and my Aunt Pol made sure of it.”

“I do too. At least, I think I do.”

Alec shifted position on the pillows so that he was gazing up at Thomas. The green of his eyes was darker than Thomas remembered - the lively sparkle had left them.

“What do you think happens to us when we die?” he asked.

Thomas thought for a moment.

“Depends, I suppose,” he said, “If you’re happy to move on, then you move on. If not, then…you stay as long as you need to.”

“I think so too.” In a weak voice, Alec continued: “Once, when I was little, I read a story about a man who built a flying ship and went into Space. One of those little stories you buy for a penny, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“He went to the moon, and the stars, and all the places we haven’t been to yet. I asked my mum if anyone would ever build a ship like that. She said maybe. I asked what it was like in Space. How big were the planets. What was on the other side of the stars - if it was Heaven or just more darkness. All these questions…Too many questions. I got on her nerves.”

Alec blinked heavily, struggling to keep his eyelids open.

“She said that only dead people know the answers to everything. I asked how. She said that when we die, we turn into spirits and can see everything, and all the questions we ever had in our lives get answered. What if she was right?”

His voice trembled.

“What if that’s what I have to do, Mister Shelby? What if I have to die to know where Clara is? What if that’s the only way?”

“Stop. You’re exhausted. You need sleep.”

“But what if she’s already dead, Mister Shelby? What if she’s waiting for me? I need to go to her.”

“Alec…”

“Don’t scold me. You’ve had the same thought. Why do we assume he dumped her at an orphanage instead of in a river? Why are we putting that much faith in him?”

“Alec. I don’t know where your daughter is, but I know she’s alive,” Thomas said firmly, “And I know she’d want her father to be safe.”

He finished peeling the orange, plucked out a segment, and held it to Alec’s mouth.

“Here. Try to eat.”

“I can’t.”

“Try,” Thomas gently insisted.

“How can I eat when she might be hungry?” Alec protested, “What if they’re not feeding her right? They don’t know what food she likes - they don’t know her at all.”

“Right now, that’s out of our hands. Right now, we need to take care of you. You need to get your strength back, otherwise you’ll be too weak to play with Clara when she’s here. You don’t want that, do you?”

“...No.”

“We need to take care of you before you can take care of your little one. Now, here. Eat.”

Slowly, Alec took the piece of orange and placed it in his mouth. He bit down, closing his eyes at the little burst of tangy juice. With some coaxing, he accepted another.

“If I go bathe, can you eat the rest by yourself?”

“...Yes.”

“Swear it?”

“...I swear.”

While Alec ate, Thomas briskly stripped and bathed. Soaking in the hot water, he tried to relax his muscles and empty his mind, but couldn’t slow his racing thoughts. All the unanswerable questions that he’d told Alec not to torture himself with, were the same questions he asked himself every minute of every day.

Deep down, he recognised what Alec was trying to do. Alec knew that he was never going to see his daughter again, and in a desperate attempt to protect himself from that knowledge, he’d begun to entertain the idea that she was dead. Believing in her death was better than the alternative, which was spending the rest of his life wondering what had happened to her. Death, at least, would bring him a sense of closure.

Rising from the bath into the cool air, the chill on his bare skin sharpened his senses, helping him to focus. He emerged from the bathroom to find Alec resting, his eyes shut and brow drawn. Thomas stood naked at the window and stared out at the cobbles and bricks and familiar faces of Watery Lane. As he watched the comings-and-goings of his city, he tried to envision a future in which Alec lived, and saw nothing.

“Mister Shelby,” Alec called him faintly from the bed.

Thomas went to him and took his hand.

“How could I let her go?” Alec whispered, “How could I let him take her?”

“You had no choice. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“I could’ve fought harder. I could’ve begged harder. I could’ve - ”

“He was already angry. If you’d made him angrier, he might’ve killed you both,” Thomas said, “You did what you had to do to survive, because you knew surviving was the only way to help her. You had to stay alive for your daughter, so you could find her and bring her home.”

“No.” Alec shook his head, anguish spasming across his face. “I let go. I should’ve held onto her even if he killed me, but I let go instead. I was weak. I’m such a fucking coward.”

“You defied me and Cobb by coming into my territory. That wasn’t cowardice. That was courage.”

Alec squeezed his hand a little harder.

“Sometimes I think I deserve this. I’m such a bad person, I deserve to suffer. How can life be good to someone like me?”

“You’re not a bad person. You never have been.”

“I can’t…I can’t…” The tears began to rise to the surface again. “I just want her back. That’s all I want. I just want to hold her again.”

“She’ll come back,” Thomas said, and wondered how many more times he could say those words before they lost all meaning. “I’ll bring her back to you.”

“What if she thinks I’ve abandoned her, Mister Shelby? What if she thinks I don’t love her any more?”

“She would never think that. Not even for a second.”

As he sat there and held Alec’s hand, listening to him cry, Thomas could feel the weight of his responsibility crushing down on him. It wasn’t just one life, but two lives that depended on him. Alec would die without Clara. Whether from self-neglect or by his own hand, he would die.

Thomas had to find her. No matter what, he had to find her.

[enaelyork]

For the fanfic writers ask thing :)

#6, #18, and #29

Thank you :)

Hey sweetie ! Here we go ! Thx u for the ask :)

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Oh yes, a fanfic about Thrawn on Ao3 name Let it then bear fruit.

And actually i read, read, read, re-read all wip and fics about Krennic from @starlady66 & @fenharel-enaste =D =D

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

So so so many it's crazy

Friends lack objectivity, enemies too. But what about when we were both at the same time?

You stole my project, i stole your daughther. It's a fair return.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Okay, another scen from Nébuleuse because i can't stop to write it

— you love him ?

I really wanted to tell him that he had much more important things to do tonight, like every night he had the chance, but I was petrified by the distress I read in his eyes. It looked like an awful romantic movie when this story was very far from being one.

It was a tragedy, a fiasco and the hero is anything but a nice guy.

Yet there he was, on my doorstep, with all this tension shaking his muscles and all his despair. I brought the sides of my bathrobe against me. The air was thin, stuffy, but that wasn't what oppressed me the most.

—Is that why you are so obsessed with that?" That you strive to thwart his departure? He sleeps with you, he...

I laughed.

It wasn't mockery, it was indefinable. I laughed like a hysteric, laughed like a fool who is definitely losing her mind. I was so loud I probably woke up half the neighborhood and my stomach was twisting in pain. The nerves seemed to have decided to let me down tonight and now was clearly not the time. Orson Krennic was there, in front of my house, asking me if I loved anyone other than him.

Then it all came to an end when his hands landed on my cheeks, capturing my face with a power that silenced me. And his electric gaze drowned mine in a wave of chaotic emotion.

Do it.

That's what his eyes were screaming at him, there, when his face was so close to mine that I could have brushed against him if I had had the courage. I was already stunned by his delicious scent of bergamot and spices. It was happening. This pure madness that alienated us had ended up getting the better of us and I understood that it was all I had always wanted.

Asshole

His lips beg mine with such force that I was silenced. I still detected a residue of strong alcohol, but not enough to convince me that he was drunk. He had thrown himself into hell, completely sober.

It was amazing.

[idiotcurls]

Heatwave

Okay, listen. I’m trying to write a fanfic about Steddie, because this is my life now?  Maybe I’ll post it on ao3 if I feel very brave. 

This is a part of Steve’s POV 

--

The heat has been unbearable for the last couple of days. Steve was sweating, while sitting still. After his shifts, he hid away in his parents home. There was a pool in the garden, which sparkled in the sunlight, promising sweet relief. But he was avoiding the common rooms of the  house, when his parents were home. He also especially  avoided the pool, it brought back painful memories of endless dinners at the Holland's house, before they  sold it, once they ran out of money to spend on looking for Barb. 

Besides that, nobody really looked after the water, so it already developed a greenish hue. 

Steve always saw the guilt in Nancy's eyes, sometimes the anger she felt towards herself, the world and also him, every time he tried to enjoy himself in the garden since then. 

After a while they both felt it in every kiss. None of them talked about it, put it into words, but it was there. It was in the air. 

Sometimes, he saw Barb, sitting on the edge of the pool. It wasn’t Steve’s own memory, but he saw the picture Jonathan took, with the camera he dropped and it haunted him. So much indeed, that it became a colorful, vivid memory. So was her delicate, dead body, being eaten, the vines extracting every drop of life she had in her. He wasn’t there when Nancy had to find her, but in his mind's eye, he saw her. 

How many times did he wake up, a muffled scream on his lips, because his mind imagined one of the kids wrapped up in vines, with dead eyes, a creature crawling out of their lifeless mouths, which has been feasting on their insides. 

The naked helplessness he felt, in the face of death. So unchangeable. The Steve he was in high school thought, with charm and a good family name, you could make everything go your way, if you had to. 

He remembered Jonathan talking to his little brother’s lifeless body, in the Byer’s old home, his voice was full of guilt and despair. He left the room, but he can remember small, pale Will. Dark circles under his eyes. His shallow breath. He looked so fragile, like he would break if you hugged him too tight. He felt Jonathan’s pain and guilt and also the fierce burst of energy he got swearing to protect them.

Steve used to wish he had a little brother. He imagined it would make the world feel less alone. 

Since it was time for summer break, everyone figured Nancy was due to arrive in town, at least they talked about it on the phone a couple of weeks back.  He didn't know if Jonathan was with her. 

Steve admired her sharp mind, quick wit, her loyalty to Barb and her curiosity towards the world around her. Always eager to get to the bottom of things. Jonathan was a better match, when he was very honest to himself. 

What would his family give, for him to be half as ambitious as Nancy Wheeler.. Steve jumping from job to job that didn't have any real career opportunities was a thorn in his family's eyes, especially his fathers, his son refusing to step into his footsteps was the final nail in his coffin, he said on several occasions. 

Nobody would blame neither Nancy nor Jonathan for not visiting town. 

After the earthquake. the south half of the town was decimated. Many people left, never to come back. With them, business left. Chances left. Young people left. Hawkins was a ghost town, for the most part. 

His parents left, more definitely than before. Steve, on the other hand, wanted to stay. 

Not a lot of people came back after the evacuation. 

He felt rebellious and stupid, trying to 'be his own man' and by doing so creating even more distance between him and his family, than there was before ‘the event’.

His family’s love was always conditional. Some of those conditions, he simply couldn't try to fulfill anymore. 

His childhood was over, his teenage years were over.  So were the times he had enough energy to uphold an image of what other people wanted him to be. 

His transition into adulthood was more abrupt and more brutal, than the average Joe’s, understandably. 

If he would talk about it, which he didn’t, he’d probably say, his youth was over the moment he watched Billy die. The way life just oozed out of him while seeing Max without the spark at all gave him a perspective he never wished on anyone. 

There was no time to contemplate his past or his future. Most of the time, there was just surviving in the moment, whether it be physical or psychological. No room for soft emotions, for grief, for nostalgia, for hope. Keep trying to go on. Keep everyone else to go on. 

[botnasty]

A Memory

Dark!Lord!Bucky Barnes X Widow!Reader

Summary: Your scared of letting your late husband become a memory, but James is gonna make sure of it. 

Words: Around 3K words

Warnings: DARK(NON/DUB-CON, manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy), SMUT(fingering, PIV, lill choking, lill breeding kink, rough sex), angst, talk of death,

Note: All mistakes are mineand please tell me if I’m missing any warnings. And also don’t be shy, if anyone wants to become mutual, just come into my inbox :)

Also, this story come from a dream I had after watching Bridgerton season 2 lol

This is a repost bc i realized I didn’t edit it it before posting it.

Not proofread

Main Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

Please DNI if you are under 18! This is an 18+ blog!

Also, please don’t steal my work, on any other platform, unless you have my authorisation

You smiled as the sound of the notes played by the many instruments invaded your ears. It had been so long since your last ball and you had missed it terribly, but with the enormous loss you had lived through with the passing of your husband, you hadn’t had any time or will to attend one. 

It had been so sudden. One bright morning he was all well, going about his day, kissing you, loving you like the doting husband and lord he was, and the next, he was so sick he could barely get up the bed. 

Steve and you had lived two blissful years together before the tragedy. You still regret to this day not having kids with him, because now, you barely had anything to really remember him by. The man had no painting of himself, no memories but the object he left in your possession. Each day now, little by the little, you feel bad for slowly forgetting him. You barely remember how his voice sounded, all the traits on his face, every little detail of him.

Slowly but surely, he was becoming a blur image in your mind.

A memory.

That brought you much sadness into your heart. Which is why you decided to attend the ball tonight and maybe see some of your friends once again and just socialize and, maybe, soothe that sadness which had invaded your broken heart.

“We have arrived at Lord Barnes' demeure, miss.” The coachman said as he stopped the horse. The music was now so loud and so beautiful you couldn't help but smile. The door of the coach opened and you stepped down with the help of Anthony, said coachman.

“Thank you, Anthony.”

The man nodded. “It is always a pleasure.” And got back into the carriage. 

Lord Barnes’ house. You haven’t been here for so long that you had forgotten how big and beautiful it was with all the windows and the sculpture that harbored the wonderful architecture. As soon as you stepped inside, you were beaming with joy.  Every woman was wearing such beautiful gowns, men in their usual overalls and the dancing… You had missed it all oh so terribly.

“Well I must be dreaming.” You gasped and turned around at the sound of his voice.

“Sam!” He let out a small laugh at your excitement of seeing him. “It has been far too!” Sam had been a very good friend to your late husband and had quickly become a friend of yours too. If it hadn’t been for him, you were sure you would still be in a pit of despair over your loss.

You smiled and couldn’t help but look him up and down. He was wearing a deep red tuxedo with a black shirt. “You look really dashing tonight, Sam.”

“So do you, dear. Is that a new gown?” He said, referring to your blue and black dress. A sign to you were still overcoming the tragedy.

You nodded. “I’m surprised you noticed, but, yes it is. It’s my first time going public since. Have to make…” You gasped when you saw what he had in his hand. “Is that a ring?” You grasped his hand and looked at the gold band. “Did you finally ask Sharon?”

He nodded and you wanted to scream like a little girl. You had wanted the two to settle down for so long. “Where is she? By the Gods, I have to felicite her and…”

Sam was full on belly laughing at your excitement. He had missed you all too much. “Calm down, dear. She’s there.” He pointed to the dance floor, where his beautiful wife was dancing with Lord barnes.

“Is that James?” You couldn’t help but ask when your eyes finally landed on Sharon. Sam hummed in approval.

The man had changed so much. Ever since your marriage to Steve you had only seen glance of the man that used to be a constant in your life. You had met James before Steve and had quickly become friends. You would almost daily see each other, help each other with suitors or unwanted suitors. He was there for you as much as you were for him. You also had developed feelings for the man, but that all changed when you married Steve, his brother. 

From then, he had cutted almost every tie with you, only seeing each other for brief seconds. But, now that you were actually seeing him, you noticed how the tall lean man with short hair has now become this muscular long haired gentleman that could probably crush with a single squeeze. He had also become more handsome so you were surprised when Sam told you he was still single.

“The dance just finished, let's go see them.” Sam led you to them and you couldn’t help but look down when you noticed James staring at you. He had also become much more intimidating, notice when you stopped right beside him, because of his build and heights.

“Sharon!” You hugged the woman. “It is so good to see you and married to Sam. How is that?” You gulped when you felt James burning gaze on you, but you wouldn’t dare look at him. 

Sharon grasped Sam's hand and leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. “It’s wonderful. Everything I could ever hope for.” She kissed his cheek and you smiled when you noticed the bashful expression on Sam’s face. They were finally both so happy after years of pinning and angst between the two. It was such a good sight to see. “But, enough about us. How are you? How is your first ball in years?”

You shrugged. “I just arrived so I can’t really tell you. All I’m wondering is if someone would dare dance with me.” You let out a small laugh.

Sam nodded to Bucky who still hasn’t said anything or moved his eyes from you. “I’m sure James would be delighted to dance with you.” This is when you finally let yourself look up at the man. His eyes were the same as before which sootted a little of your anxiety of seeing him, but the darkness in them confused you.

You cleared your throat. “You would?” He nodded presenting his big hands. “May I have this other dance, my lady?” He asked with a bow of the head.

You smiled at him for the first time this evening. “Of course, Lord Barnes.” And you took him on the offer. The music started playde and you both started swaying to it at the same as all the other couples. You tried to keep your eyes on James, but you couldn’t with the way he was looking at you and because he now seemed like a complete stranger to you. You wonder what happened to make him stop talking to you. You want to know.

No.

You need to know. 

So, instead of looking at him, you looked at everyone else who was talking to their partner.

Seeing you not looking at him, James decided to finally talk to you. “I thought we wouldn’t see you tonight, especially after such troubling events.” Bucky said as he placed a hand on your ways and made you moved to the sound of the music. You instantly turn to him and to James delight, look into his eyes. 

“It has been months, Lord Buchanan. I—“ James helped you do a little twirled and you got back into his arms.

He leaned his head closer to yours and whispered to your ears only: “Sweet, after all this time, you can call me James.”

“James then, I loved your brother with all my being, but I’m sure he would’ve wanted me to have much fun instead of broody inside the mansion till my end meets.”

Bucky hummed. “It is true. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to his passing. I was attending business outside the city. So, my condolences, sweets.”

Your eyes squinted. “You talk about him like he wasn’t your brother. A person you didn’t have any relation with. Why?”

James sighed and his hold tightened on your waist. A slight wiince left your mouth at the action. “You know me and my brother didn’t have one of the greatest relationships. I thought you already knew that.”

You shook your head. “Steve always talked about you in great regard and before you never talked bad to me about your brother.” James just shrugged and it was back to silence.

When the song finally ended and you both bowed to each other. “Thank you for the dance, James.” He didn’t say anything which didn’t leave you surprised. “Have a great night, my lord.”

You turned around when he took a hold on your wrist.

“I have something for you in my study.” Bucky placed a hand on your lower back, a little close to your bosom you couldn’t help but noticed. 

Your eyes narrowed. It was bad for a woman to be seen with a man, alone without a chaperone, but a widow whose husband just died alone with a man could make a woman lose everything. 

“Which is…”

“A little something of my Steve. I thought it would be better for you to have it then me.” Your eyes lit up. You’ll finally get something to remember him by so you gladly follow him in the huge mansion. 

“What is it?” You couldn’t help but ask him while walking in the hallway.

“I found drawings in his old room and letters for you.”Drawing? Letters? That sounds so much like something Steve would do.”

Bucky hummed and opened the door and let you walk into the study. The room was covered in wood and you couldn’t help but be amazed by it. Your glance traveled to the room before you turned to James who was closing the door. “Thank you so much, James. For giving me those.” You placed your hand on his shoulder. “You don’t know how much I need it.”

“I lied, sweet.” Your hand slided down. “What…”

“There are no letters. No drawing.” He grabbed your hands.

“What.”

“You know, you were supposed to be mine, sweet.” Your eyes widened and you took a step back, you tried to pry your hand from his hold, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Wha—“

“I was the first one to see you, to be attracted to you and my brother felt nothing towards you.” He pulled you to him.

A wave of shock and anger bursted in you at his word. You haven't talked to him in years, how dare he make that claim. “Do not dare talk about my husb—“

“He only developed feelings for you the moment I told him about mine. He stole you from me. You were meant to be mine, sweet.”

You were shaking, your mind going crazy and your eyes going back and forth being his blue one as he took steps closer to you. 

“And now that he is finally gone…”

He placed a hand on your right cheek, his thumb touching your cheek bone. 

“I can finally have you.”

Before you could understand what was happening, James placed his big hand under your thighs and pulled you up.

“Jam–” He shushed you with a finger on your lips as he placed you on his wooden desk.

“You wouldn't want anyone to see you, wouldn't you?” He tried to pull up your dress, but you swatted his hand away in a hurry. “You’ll be the talk of the town.” He growled and ripped the skirt of your gown instead. A cry left your mouth when Bucky made you lay down on the desk. “The recent widow being spotted in a compromising situation with the brother of her late husband. You’ll be the shame of your family.” 

You cried because he was right. You cried for what you were about to do. You cried for your late husband who was probably seeing this from above. 

Bucky layed on top of you, rubbing his clothed cock against your panties who were shamely getting soaked. “Just let it happen, sweet. give me what I deserve.” He kissed your cheeks as he took your wrists and placed your hands above your head and, with the straight he now had, you couldn,’t do anything to stop him. “Give me what you should’ve given me first.” He whispered in your ears before licking the shell. You were silently crying the entire time.

“Oh, baby. My sweet. Do not shed any tears.” He said with a fake sympathy expression on his face. “This will be as enjoyable for me as it will for you.” He wiped the tears away with his thumb and brought it to his mouth for a taste. 

As he pulled his thumb out, he looked down where both your bodies were about to join. He groaned when he saw the wet patch you left on his trousers. ”Look at that.” He rubbed his finger on your underwear, toying with your folds and clit over the clothes. “You want me so much, Sweet. Your body betrays you.”

“I d-don’t.”

James tisked and pulled your pantie to the side. “It’s not good to lie, sweet.” You cover your mouth to not let any moan escape when he starts playing with your cunt. “See, you’re lying.”

“You’re manipulating me.” You managed to say as he pushed two thick fingers inside your wetness, fucking your hole.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked straight in your face, his finger now on your clit rubbing fast circles making it now impossible for you to not moan. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked with a graver tone, his finger slowing down.

You were crying and arching in that moment. “No!” You grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer. “Please, don’t stop.”

James smirked. “I knew you wanted me.” And before you could even make another though, he turned your body around like a rag doll and pushed you so your ass would stick up. He harshly pulled your underwear down and moaned when he saw it. “Prettiest pussy, sweet and all mine.”

He placed both hands on your waist and pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. You couldn’t help but arch your back at the feeling of being full of something. He was so big, stretching you out so well and so painfully, but you loved it. You welcomed this familiar pain that you hadn’t felt in months. 

James moaned when his cock finally breached your tight entrance. “Oh… Are you sure you’ve ever done that with my brother? You’re so tight. So wet.” He pulled back, only resting the tip inside before pushing back inside of you and he did that on and on. Thrust after thrust. Until you were completely at his mercy, completely his.

Your ears were ringing and your mind was foggy. All you could focus on was the way James was fucking into you, like a madman, and the the wet sound of your body connecting.

“You’re mine after this, Sweet”. He leaned over to whisper into your ears. “I don’t care what people think, what you think. I’m finally going to get what I always wanted. “His hold tightened on your waist at the same time as your cunt around his cock. You heard him swear under his breath.

 “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. I’m gonna use and use you until you are with child. My child, sweet.” You couldn’t say anything but moan. Tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but for a completely different reason. One of pleasure. You were in complete bliss at that moment. not even Steve ever made you feel that way.

“Cum–”Moan. “Cum inside of me, Lord.” The name spilled out of your lips, out of the blue.

James grabbed your hair and pulled you up, pressing your back to his chest as he kept on trusting inside of you. “What did you call me?”

“My lord.”

James grabbed your throat. “That’s right. I’m your lord. And your lord is gonna cum inside his pussy.” His other hand went to your pussy, two of his fingers resuming rubbing your clit. You trashed in his hold when he fucked you faster than before, the tip of his cock punching your cevix at each thrust of his hips.

A minute after that felt like an hourm your both came, him deep inside and you all over him. You moaned when you felt him fill you up until you were dripping around his cock, but the groaning that came with it was probably the greatest thing you’ve ever had the pleasure to listen to.

When you felt him stop twitching inside of you, you collapsed back down on the desk, your eyes slowly but surely closing by the amount of pleasure you had lived through. The only thing you felt after was a kiss on your forehead and James whispering in your ears as he pulled his softening cock out of you.

“So beautiful. So mine.”

And with just that, Steve had completely become what you feared most: a memory.

Thank you for reading and feel free to repost or comment what you think :)

[seyaryminamoto]

Leap of Faith: Sokkla Saturdays 2022

Day 5: College AU

On FF.net//On AO3

A/N:

And now... a lighter and much more comedy-oriented entry for today. I really hope you guys enjoy it, I had so much fun writing this one!

"Look, I get where you're coming from, I do… but every time we try to recruit more people, no one wants to join us!"

"But that doesn't mean we can't ask again, Zuko. We should give it a try!"

"Well, be my guest, but I don't think there's much point to it. The three of us can pull off another campaign just fine together, can't we?"

Aang sighed: Zuko's stubbornness could have its perks in certain circumstances, but sometimes it grated on his nerves instead, no matter how patient he tried to be with his friend. He glanced at Sokka, who sat with arms crossed on the couch. Their party's dungeon master stroked his stubble, raising an eyebrow slowly before saying:

"There's a rather important proverb that we must abide by, in these situations…" Sokka stated. Zuko scoffed.

"Proverbs? Who'd you think you are, my uncle Iroh?"

"Do tell, do tell!" Aang said, excitedly. Sokka cleared his throat before making his big, insightful revelation.

"The more, the merrier!"

Zuko groaned, and Aang laughed while clapping approvingly. Sokka chuckled: Zuko's despair always amused him, even if Sokka suspected that the grumpiest among the three of them would win at this particular argument, in the end.

Sokka had met Aang and Zuko in college. At first, they were brought together by their career choices, then their bond tightened over their love for tabletop games: so far, they had played through four short adventures in which Sokka had served as dungeon master. Aang and Zuko would build up powerful characters who eventually prevailed against the forces of evil Sokka controlled… and it was fun. Their grasp on their games strengthened every time, and Sokka had so many stories in mind to tell in the future…

But Aang wasn't wrong to believe it would be more fun to tell them with more players in their party.

Just so, Zuko had a point as well: all their attempts to invite other people to join their Dungeons and Dragons sessions went to waste without fail.

Typically, their games were held in the house Sokka and Zuko had been roommates in for well over half their college careers – by now, however, Zuko's relationship with Suki had advanced enough that he spent more time at her place than at Sokka's. Sokka certainly didn't look forward to finding another roommate once Zuko inevitably moved out, but he'd have to look for one anyway… which was a problem to worry about on some other day. Right now, all he needed to think about was who to recruit for their next, full campaign… one he hoped would be a much longer campaign than the ones they'd done so far. He had so many ideas for it, ideas he hoped Aang and Zuko would enjoy, but it would be so much better if more people joined them…

"Well, I'm not going to make a public post on social media to call for new players," Zuko growled, shooting down Aang's latest idea, one he had put forward while Sokka wasn't paying attention. "That sounds awful."

"Then we should just ask people we know! Why not, right?" Aang said, glancing at Sokka. "We could ask Katara…"

"She always says she can't trust me as her DM," Sokka admitted, with an awkward smile. "She thinks I'm going to kill her character on the very first action sequence just to be a shithead of a brother…"

"Well, then, swear you won't do that and she'll join in!" Aang pouted. "Come on, and there's others who could join too…!"

"Well, I don't know if…" Zuko grunted, but his words were cut off abruptly when the doorbell rang.

He frowned before rising to his feet. The living room of the small house wasn't far away from the front door, allowing both Aang and Sokka to see glance in that direction as Zuko pulled the door open… and he groaned immediately at the sight of the woman standing right outside.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out at once. Sokka glanced as best he could, only making out a few details past Zuko's silhouette… enough details to bring him to suspect the identity of this visitor even before hearing her teasing voice.

"Well, now, my parents raised me to greet people properly before asking questions… especially asking them so harshly. How uncivilized of you, Zuzu."

"Oh, please," Zuko huffed, stepping aside and allowing Azula to march into the house, a devious smirk upon her face.

Sokka's heart jolted lightly at the sight of her: he was an idiot, of course, for having any manner of crush on his roommate's sister. It was a strange trope he wasn't sure he should be trying to live out, but curses, she was pretty. She was clever and devious, and the way she teased Zuko never failed to make Sokka laugh. His lips instinctively curved into a smile as he waved like a fool in her direction.

"Ah, see? Sokka's much wiser than you," Azula smirked, nodding in Sokka's direction.

"Good to see you," Sokka grinned – happy tingles in his stomach urged him to talk to her more, to make the most of any opportunity to spend time with her…

"Hi, Azula!" Aang smiled too, waving at her, and Azula sighed happily.

"Ah, thank you. You all prove my point marvelously," she said, turning towards Zuko with her mischievous grin.

"They're not your brothers, and they don't realize you're only here because you want something," Zuko grumbled, glaring at her… and then allowing his eyes to drift down to the laptop bag she carried with her. "You broke your computer again?"

"I… did nothing. The updates are at fault here," Azula said, raising a finger pointedly in Zuko's direction.

"And now I have to backtrack them for you, as usual," Zuko huffed, shaking his head. "Well, I don't have my stuff here, if it's too serious I won't be able to fix it right now."

"Heh. I did go to Suki's place first, seeing as you've basically moved there, but she told me you were here," Azula said, with a shrug. "And I wasn't about to pretend that I could leave my laptop at your apartment without personally requesting that you fixed it, you were bound to ignore it if I wasn't there needling you about it the whole time, so…"

"You do realize me specializing in computer science doesn't mean I'm your go-to IT guy, don't you?" Zuko grunted. Azula huffed, shaking her head.

"You're my brother, and you picked your career as you pleased. How is it my fault that you wanted to be an IT guy?"

"I'm not an IT guy!" Zuko squealed, as Azula sank in the couch, right next to Sokka. He tried not to react, but yet again, his idiot heart fluttered over her closeness.

"If you were studying to be a mechanic, I'd come to you for car trouble," Azula continued, nonchalantly. "If you were studying to be a doctor, I'd ask you about every single potentially alarming health sign I find, if I found any. Therefore…"

"That's just…! Ugh, at the very least pay me for my efforts!" Zuko huffed. Azula gasped, affronted.

"That's… you've gone too far. You'd charge me for your services? Me, your own sister?" Azula said, dramatically. Zuko groaned, his hands on his head while he heard Aang and Sokka chuckling at Azula's wicked teasing. "Oh, but you're so cruel…"

"Okay, now, not to brag but I've beaten your brother at grades every semester," Sokka smiled, folding his arms over his chest. "If you really need that fixed, I can do it for you."

Azula blinked blankly, turning her head towards him with undisguised delight… and Sokka saw the spark of mischief in her beautiful golden eyes well before she spoke anew.

"Why… such a generous offer," she said, showing him what she no doubt believed was an angelical smile – the deviousness was nowhere near gone, however. "I couldn't possibly impose on you, though…! How much should I pay you for fixing it?"

"Oh, so you would pay Sokka but not me?!" Zuko squealed: Sokka covered his face with his hands as Azula smiled brightly, her latest stunt to irk her brother achieving the expected effect. "You're just…! Ugh!"

"You're my brother. Different rules apply there," Azula said, smirking. Sokka chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm not charging you, Azula, so different rules don't have to apply at all," Sokka said. Azula's teasing intent dwindled then, as she eyed him with curiosity.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I have no idea how tricky this is…"

"Rolling back an update isn't a big deal, I can do it right away. I'll do that and throw in a few security checks too to make sure things are running smoothly," Sokka offered. Azula smiled and shrugged.

"Well… be my guest, if you're serious. Thank you," she said. Sokka grinned proudly, hoping he wasn't blushing like the idiot he felt he was…

"Wait, so you're going to focus on that now?" Zuko huffed. "We were talking about the campaign, it's the whole reason why I dropped by…"

"We can take a break for now," Aang said, with a shrug. "And we can use the break to brainstorm ideas for how to get new players to join us!"

"Campaign? Players?" Azula repeated, eyeing Aang and Zuko with a dismissive sneer. "Oh, goodness. Another of your, uh, Rooms and Roaches game, I suppose…"

"Dungeons and Dragons! Seriously, could you be more of a textbook annoying younger sister?" Zuko groaned, dropping on his seat as Azula smirked deviously, shaking her head.

"Ah, he just makes it too easy, doesn't he?" Azula said, nudging Sokka gently with her elbow. "I imagine your sister torments you as often as I torment Zuko and you don't whine about it half as much, do you?"

"Oh, yeah. I've accepted my fate as her favorite source of entertainment," Sokka admitted. "Though Katara's very easy to annoy right back, you know? We get even sometimes. Zuko, though…"

"Anything I say can and will be used against me," Zuko growled, glaring at Azula, who smiled brightly at him.

"You know your fundamental rights, at the very least. Good on you," Azula said, nodding sagely. "Anyway, I had no idea the three of you were playing Prisons and Penguins. Did Zuko scare away the rest of your team's players with his temper, or…?"

"The right term is 'party', and no. It's always been just the three of us," Zuko said, bluntly. Azula hummed.

"Aang and I thought we should get more people on board, but Zuko says it's not going to work… and after hearing you call Dungeons and Dragons literally anything other than Dungeons and Dragons, I can't say that I'm surprised by his refusal to look for more players anymore," Sokka smiled. Azula offered him a devious grin of her own.

"Well, you see, if Zuko could explain reasonably how the game works, perhaps I would be interested in it. But every single time I asked him, he started talking about stats or whatever number of sides a functioning dice can have, and how 'the dice tell the story', which happens to be a concept I still can't pretend to understand… he makes it sound as entertaining and appealing as a visit to the dentist, in short."

"I… that's not true!" Zuko huffed, though his cheeks lit up – he had definitely tried to teach Suki how to play, only for his girlfriend to decide to stick with her favorite videogames instead. While he knew Azula made a sport of making fun of him, perhaps she wasn't entirely off-base with that assessment…

"Well, then, maybe Aang and I can do better," Sokka chuckled. "It's a roleplaying game, Azula."

Her eyebrows rode surprisingly high upon hearing those words. She stared at Sokka with a slowly growing grin, and Sokka blinked blankly.

"What?" he said. She bit her lip before leaning closer, covering her mouth as she spoke into his ear.

"Roleplaying, as in… sexual stuff?"

Sokka nearly jumped out of his seat upon hearing that: his cheeks lit up fully, much as Azula blushed as well while laughing at his reaction. Sokka's jaw dropped, he gasped, and then he shook his head quickly.

"N-no. No. Absolutely not. RPGs… have you never heard of them? Really?" Sokka asked, still flustered as Azula laughed against the backrest of her couch. "You… you're trolling me too. Just like you troll your brother all the time. You're a menace… a wonderful menace, but a menace anyway."

"The look on your face…!" Azula chuckled, covering her face with her hands as Aang and Zuko reached their own conclusions regarding what Azula had just whispered into Sokka's ear.

"Well… romance can be a thing in Dungeons and Dragons?" Aang clarified, with an awkward smile. "If that's what you meant…"

"Azula, seriously…" Zuko grimaced, shaking his head as he rose back to his feet. "I suppose I take it as a victory that you're choosing to mess with someone other than me for once…"

"Don't worry, you'll do something silly for me to ridicule any moment now. I'll just be patient until you do," Azula smiled. Zuko sighed.

"Well, then, at least hold back the ridiculing until I finish ordering pizza. Or else I'm not asking for pepperoni just to annoy you," Zuko huffed, pulling up his phone. Azula gasped.

"You wouldn't dare!" she said, dramatically. Sokka, beside her, yelped as well.

"Seriously, don't you dare!" he said, far more seriously than Azula had.

"Make sure mine's got none…" Aang, the sole vegetarian in the house, smiled awkwardly.

As Zuko busied himself with picking a delivery option, with Aang glancing over his shoulder to make him choose his favorite pizza restaurant, Sokka took it upon himself to begin patching up Azula's laptop – he sighed at the blue screen error that greeted him moments after powering up the computer, but he took to repairing the software quickly with the expertise he had developed over three years of studies. And as he worked, unless he had to ask any questions about the computer, Sokka explained more about Dungeons and Dragons to a surprisingly receptive Azula.

"… So, basically I'm the Dungeon Master, I come up with the story, the non-playable characters, the setting, all that stuff. The rules can be the ones established by the original game, or you can come up with a few new ones depending on whatever you feel like doing," Sokka said. "Basically, Dungeons and Dragons' system is more of a means to tell a story, you see? The idea that the dice tell the story isn't completely wrong, but without further context it probably sounds pretty weird…"

"Zuko never bothered providing any context, but I think I understand better now," Azula said. "You, the so-called Dungeon Master, build an adventure, you help your players build their characters too, then you have to be ready to either improvise with whatever their choices are, or plan so extensively to be prepared for anything they choose to do…? It seems a rather complicated way to play a game, frankly. Almost sounds like the Dungeon Master doesn't have as much fun as everyone else does."

"Oh, don't worry, that's not the case at all. Not once you get to the fun stuff of being the DM," Sokka chuckled: the computer booted up again, and this time, everything flowed perfectly. "Alright! It's running now."

"Ah, so quickly, too. Zuko would've kept me waiting for three days," Azula sighed, shaking her head.

"You're his sister, that's his revenge for all your teasing," Sokka said. Azula groaned.

"I know, but he's just so easy to annoy…" she sighed, before smiling at him again. "Thank you for your work, though. As for what Aang said before, though… romance is allowed in these games too? Is that how broad their scope is, truly?"

"Oh, yeah. Some people even livestream their games, get huge fanbases, their fans fall in love with their characters and with the relationships between those characters…" Sokka explained, with an awkward smile. "I mean, sure, it's a little crazy to roleplay being in love with a friend, I imagine, but if you're doing it right, I'm sure it can be lots of fun."

"Huh. Has Aang ever fallen in love with Zuko, then?" Azula asked, amused. Sokka snorted.

"Well, no. Though I had to play Aang's wife in one of our first campaigns," Sokka chuckled. "But that's what I get for being the DM, always got to play every other character in our D&D world. Anyway, I think as long as the players and DM are in agreement about romance, it's doable."

"Hmm… if so, I don't see why it's so hard for you to get Suki to play with you, Zuko," Azula said, raising her voice so her brother, finished placing his order, would hear her.

"Say what?" Zuko raised an eyebrow.

"Sokka says romance is a thing. Tell her that, and that you're at risk of being romanced by Aang… might make her jealous enough to join in just to make sure she keeps you to herself," Azula smirked. Zuko scoffed.

"We're not teenagers, she doesn't think Aang's going to steal me away," Zuko huffed. Aang chuckled.

"The characters are the ones who tell the story, though. If you happen to build a character that my character finds appealing…" Aang said, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly: Zuko scoffed in disgust.

"Maybe mine won't find yours appealing, then," he said. Aang whimpered, a hand on his chest.

"Unrequited love? Oh, no! Whatever shall I do?"

"Are you three in league today to pick on me or something?" Zuko huffed, glaring at his two friends and his sister, who laughed at his irate reaction.

"Oh, lighten up, Zuzu," Azula chuckled, shaking her head. "Anyway, I think you really ought to try recruiting Suki. She likes videogames, I bet she'd enjoy this if she gets the hang of it eventually. If she's too difficult to coax into it, though… hmm. Maybe not Aang, then. Maybe you should invite Mai to join in, too."

"No. I… no!" Zuko whimpered, cheeks flushing. "You're not getting my ex entangled in this just to amuse yourself, damn it!"

"Well, it would be amusing, but I'm not just trying to tease you," Azula chuckled. "Seriously, the way Sokka puts it, he wants to tell a big story, right? The more…"

"The merrier! That's what I said!" Sokka exclaimed, beaming. Azula smiled at his reaction too.

"For that matter, instead of pushing other people to join in, maybe you should consider doing it yourself," Zuko huffed. "How about it, Azula? Want to play a game of Jails and J-… J-…"

"Jellyfish," Azula supplied, helpfully, and Zuko huffed in irritation at her response. "What? Perfectly valid animal…"

"It sounds like you have a set for every possible synonym and word you can use for this joke of yours…" Sokka smirked. Azula blinked blankly, a hand on her chest as she acted utterly shocked by his apparent accusation.

"What, innocent old me, coming up with a whole reservoir of names for Chambers and Chameleons? Vaults and Voles? Oubliettes and Owls?"

Sokka couldn't hold back the laughter anymore. Azula smiled with undisguised satisfaction as Zuko rolled his eyes at her.

"Anyway… sure," she said, with a shrug. "I will require some thorough coaching so I won't mess up, as well as a copy of this rulebook and whatnot, but…"

"Wait, what?" Zuko's dismissiveness froze… transformed now into sheer terror. Azula blinked blankly, gazing at him questioningly.

"What? You just said I should join in, and I said I'm perfectly happy to attempt it," Azula said. Zuko's face paled. "Oh? Is this not the outcome you were looking for?"

"Well… maybe Zuko wasn't, but Aang and I? Absolutely!" Sokka grinned, turning towards her in amazement. "Welcome to the party!"

"Heh. Sounds even more fun when you say it that way," Azula grinned in a rather devious way at Sokka. Zuko winced. "Have something to say now, Zuzu?"

Zuko's jaw had dropped in sheer horror: it was one thing for Azula to visit once in a while over computer trouble. It was a very different one for her to do so on a weekly basis for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign… especially with his two friends basically enabling her constantly, laughing at her jokes and encouraging her to poke fun at him left and right.

He couldn't refuse her now, though: she was bound to show up every week even if he did, and Sokka and Aang would welcome her without a hitch. No… what he needed was backup. Strength in numbers. More people to help him keep her in check…

Which was exactly what he hadn't wanted to do, but damn, Azula left him no choice.

"I… will convince Suki," Zuko grimaced. Aang gasped happily. "Sokka… get Katara too. And someone should get Toph. Maybe Jet…"

"I'll tell Mai and Ty Lee, then," Azula grinned. Zuko grimaced but sighed: at this point, he'd gladly endure the awkwardness of being around Mai if it meant Azula might have someone else to bicker with at some point or another.

"See? That's better payback for computer repairs than money," Sokka chuckled, smiling brightly at Azula. "You convinced him all on your own! I'll finally get the big party I was looking for…"

"You needn't mention it, though… I do need that rulebook, don't I?" Azula asked. Sokka chuckled.

"We'll get you one. You might need help with setting up your character, but I can give you a hand, maybe on videocall if that's easier for you than coming here," Sokka said. Azula huffed.

"It's not that hard, my own house is barely a few blocks away," Azula said. "Technically, I would have been staying in the same place as my brother if only Zuzu hadn't been so adamant about finding a roommate so he could have an excuse to stop living with his wicked sister…"

"Well, he's bound to move out sooner than later. He barely comes here anymore," Sokka said, with a shrug. "Anyway, if you'd rather drop by, that's fine by me. No idea if you have a lot of work to do for your classes, so…"

"My semester shouldn't be that heavy. I'll be able to spare a couple of evenings to come here, be it for building characters or whatever you need," Azula said. "Just let me know when you're available and I'll swing by."

"Awesome," Sokka smiled – he wasn't stupidly misunderstanding this as a date of some sort, was he? No one had dates over Dungeons and Dragons… but that she'd be willing to visit even if Zuko was absent was a surprisingly agreeable sign. One that, of course, didn't have to mean anything, but he'd always welcome spending more time with Azula and her delightfully devious wit.

After comparing schedules – both, it seemed, were rather oriented towards planning their schedules to the utmost detail, something rather convenient for people who would play Dungeons and Dragons –, they chose to hold their character-building session four days later. Azula asked many questions about the game that night, while also reiterating her gratitude towards Sokka after he finished all checkups of her computer, confirming it was functional and that it would stay that way – at least, until future updates crashed it. Her numerous queries about Dungeons and Dragons were hilarious, especially the ones she blurted out carelessly while they ate, and Zuko groaned in despair at every devious concept Azula ran by Aang and Sokka, who seemed to find her ideas hilarious instead of painful.

By the next day, the four of them contacted the rest of their potential party and confirmed that their player group would increase in size considerably. Jet even offered to bring his younger brother, a faithful Dungeons and Dragons enthusiast who, while still in high school, was as experienced a player as Aang, Sokka and Zuko were. The kid in question agreed to help his brother with building his character sheet, and Sokka took care of helping Katara and Azula while Aang handled Mai, Ty Lee and Toph. Zuko's sole assignment was Suki, who still hardly understood the point or how to play the game, but she agreed to join it if just for her boyfriend's peace of mind.

As much as preparing a big campaign was the greatest highlight of his career as a Dungeon Master, Sokka looked forward to building Azula's character more than anything else. He welcomed her in his house, offering her refreshments, making the most of the opportunity to talk about their respective careers – it was rather amusing that Azula's demeanor changed so starkly once Zuko wasn't around, for while she snuck in a few barbs here and there to tease him, it was nothing compared to how she acted when her brother was present. Her attention was on Sokka constantly, even helping him in the kitchen when she noticed he was struggling with their dinner, and they ate together while exchanging ideas on the very first character Azula had ever created for a tabletop roleplaying game:

"So… I've decided I shall be a tiefling," Azula declared, with a proud grin. Sokka bit his lip and shrugged.

"They're a pretty popular choice for players… unpopular in-world, though. You're sure?" he asked. Azula nodded sagely, and Sokka smiled. "Alright, then. You'll get some intelligence and charisma bonus which, I suppose, is quite fitting…"

"Is it, now?" Azula smirked. Sokka chuckled.

"Not going to pretend you're not smarter than everyone in any room you're in, are you?"

"Well… I mean, I'd love to say that, but you're in this room too and that makes it rather difficult to sustain such a claim," Azula said. Sokka blinked blankly and glanced at her in perplexity. "What? You're not going to pretend someone as competent as you, with such an ability to grasp this crazy game and build an entire, massive narrative the way you seemingly have, isn't basically a genius, are you?"

"I'm not…!" Sokka snorted, cheeks flushing as he shook his head. "No, no, no. I'm not a genius at all, Azula, I… I mean, it's flattering that you'd say so, but I'm not."

"Suit yourself…" Azula said, smirking as she focused on her character sheet, as well as the many notes she'd made about her plans, some of which she had already discussed with Sokka and discarded. "I've thought about it a lot… and the Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer sounds perfect for my character. Do you agree?"

"For someone who thrives in mocking the 'dragon' in Dungeons and Dragons, you sure seem to be a fan of them," Sokka smirked. Azula chuckled.

"Oh, that's just what my contract as a younger sibling entails, nothing more. I've always liked dragons. I've even wanted a tattoo of one, but I suppose maybe in the future…" she said, offhandedly. Sokka blinked blankly as Azula smirked at him. "What? Think it wouldn't suit me?"

"Might suit you too well, I'd say," Sokka smiled awkwardly. "Where…? Uh, where were we?"

No, he was not about to ask her where she wanted the tattoo, damn it. He had to focus.

"I'm a sorcerer," Azula repeated, smiling. "As for my personal storyline…"

They continued to discuss the details of her character, whom she named Fyrelith Krylla, the female tiefling who traveled the world on a quest to find a purpose in her life as an outsider to society. Once their main work was done, though, Azula continued asking questions about the campaign and, most of all, about Sokka's work as the Dungeon Master. He was surprised that she'd be so intrigued by it, but she wasn't secretive as to why:

"It's just… odd to me that it sounds like the Dungeon Master is the one who puts the most work into it while the rest of the players have lots of fun navigating the storyline you'd be creating," Azula said, raising her eyebrows. "Have you never wished to be a player instead?"

"Oh? Heh, I've done it and it's not as fun for me, honestly," Sokka laughed. "I mean, I'm not going to pretend I'm the greatest storyteller there was or so, but I love seeing the way people react to the twists and turns a story can take. I love improvising when things don't go as I planned… and honestly? My dice rolls are way better when I'm a DM. Or maybe I don't mind much when I roll poorly as a DM? Unless it's a big character, you know, by then it's unnerving to get lots of natural ones in a row, or so…"

"Well, then… I suppose I must ask you to forgive me for being judgmental, but this sounds like you're a bit of a control freak," Azula smirked. Sokka blinked blankly. "Not that it's too outrageous if you're one, I am one myself, but…"

"I wouldn't… say it's a matter of control, no," Sokka chuckled.

"Then you're just a self-sacrificial guy who wants his friends to have fun and doesn't care if he has to be the bad guy in order to help them do so?" Azula asked, her elbows on the table. She leaned in slightly, as if studying Sokka's true motives… and his heart raced far faster than it should have because of it. "It's very noble if that's how it is… but it feels unfair, too."

"Unfair because… what, you think I never win?" Sokka asked, amused, leaning slightly as well. Azula shrugged. "Zuko does say you're terribly ambitious and try to win at every game…"

"Suki's utterly frustrating in Mario Kart. I've probably only beaten her twice at it for as long as she's been dating Zuko," Azula said, an eyebrow twitching as Sokka chuckled at her confession. "But that's neither here nor there…"

"No, I'm sure it's not," Sokka said. Azula scoffed, though she smiled at his response.

"I'm just saying… it's very noble, but I wonder if I'm overthinking things," she said: her eyes wouldn't leave his, as if defying him, and Sokka refused to back down from the challenge she was offering him. "You deserve to live out your own epic story yourself, I'd say, rather than always building them for other people. Perhaps you're particularly good at that, but… aren't you curious about what might happen if you were a player instead?"

"I…" Sokka blinked blankly. Azula raised her eyebrows: she was trying to get at something that was absolutely going over his head… and that was her fault entirely.

She was so close. He was so close to her. The table was too big suddenly, no matter if they were that close indeed… he could push himself up slightly, lean in fully, catch her by surprise with a kiss, but would it even surprise her? The way she looked at him now, it was as though that was exactly what she wanted him to…

The sound of keys in the front door caused Sokka to gasp and jump to his feet, as if he had been caught by his mother or a schoolteacher doing something out of bounds. Oh, he was an idiot. A total idiot. His heart was racing and it wouldn't calm down – he hadn't really been about to kiss Azula, had he? And he hadn't just blown his first and only chance to do so, had he…?

"Guess it's Zuko?" Azula said as she pulled back too: Sokka's chest almost collapsed upon itself as he heard the front door swinging open.

"Sorry for barging in without warning," Zuko's voice echoed in the house, and Azula grimaced. Sokka smiled awkwardly as he stepped out of the kitchen: Zuko had a rucksack with him, and Sokka raised an eyebrow at the sight of it. "No, she didn't kick me out: she's spending a couple of days at her parents' place, and…"

"And you need someone to cook for you or else you'll order takeout for every meal?" Sokka asked, curtly. Zuko scoffed.

"I mean, if you don't want to cook enough for two…!"

"Three, actually," Azula announced: Zuko's face paled upon hearing her voice. Azula rose to her feet, stepping past the kitchen's threshold and smirking deviously at her brother. "How rude of you to interrupt us, Zuzu."

"I-interrupt… what?" Zuko said. Sokka's face flushed again and Zuko's paled just as much. "Sokka. Sokka. I don't… I don't want to be the Ross to your Chandler. So please tell me this isn't…"

"We were building her character for the campaign. That's all," Sokka said, with a dry grin, a hand on his face as Azula laughed deviously at her brother's utter horror.

"Azula!" Zuko roared, and she couldn't seem to stop laughing as she wrapped an arm around her stomach, bending over forward at his wild reaction.

Sokka couldn't help but smile as he watched her, no matter how flustered he was by her insinuation – it genuinely made him think he hadn't misread things at all before. Oh, he liked her a lot, and she was smart enough to realize it, Sokka guessed… he'd have to talk things over with Zuko if it looked like dating Azula was an actual possibility in his future. Zuko was bound to reject the notion completely, Sokka guessed… but Sokka couldn't help but be delighted by the sight of Azula's genuine laughter. She was beautiful when she smirked, of course… but her honest smiles were the best of them all.

Zuko wound up eating from the leftovers from their meal while Azula gathered her things, keeping all information about her character secret from her brother for the time being. Zuko seemed genuinely shocked that Azula would be taking the campaign so seriously, but he still eyed her warily constantly, until Sokka accompanied her to the front door while Zuko remained in the kitchen, eating to his heart's content.

"Is this it, then?" Azula asked, smiling at him as they stood at the front door. Sokka's heart was back to racing wildly just upon being alone with her. "I mean… I don't have to do anything else in preparation for the campaign?"

"Oh, uh, not really. I'll be painting the minis next week, but…"

"The… what?" Azula blinked blankly. Sokka smiled shyly.

"The stuff that makes us nerdier still, I guess. We make figures of our characters in Dungeons and Dragons, see? They help us keep up with what's going on during battle sequences. As the Dungeon Master, I place the minis on the maps where the fights are happening, that way I know how far anyone can move, the range of attacks and so on…"

"Ah… and you'll be painting my character?" Azula asked, amused. Sokka smiled.

"Everyone's characters, actually?" he said. "I'll ask for occasional input, send pictures to each of you of what it's looking like and what colors to pick, but…"

"Pictures? And how do I know you won't mess up Fyrelith by, I don't know, giving her a huge wart somewhere?" Azula asked. Sokka laughed, covering his face with his hands. "No, no, no. I can't trust you with this. You're too dangerous with all this power, Dungeon Master…"

"What are you saying? That you'll come by to help me?" Sokka chuckled.

Azula grinned.

Sokka's heart raced even faster.

He returned to the kitchen with wide eyes after Azula took off. Zuko continued eating, though he noticed Sokka's daze as his roommate sank in an empty seat. He bumped Sokka's knee with his own, grunting as though to make Sokka speak his mind.

"Zuko…" Sokka blinked blankly.

"The heck is the matter with you? Did she say something that drained all your happiness, or something?" Zuko asked. Sokka swallowed hard.

"I swear… there's nothing going on between me and your sister," he said. Zuko frowned. "But… would you kill me if I told you that I wish something was?"

Zuko stayed silent for a moment. He set down his fork after a moment. His face twisted slowly into a grimace… and then he dropped his head heavily on the table.

"My best friend and my sister…?"

The quote, spoken in an unusually soft, shrill voice for Zuko's standards, actually brought a burst of laughter from Sokka. He covered his face with his hands while Zuko groaned in frustration over the apparent, inevitable match that was bound to happen between Azula and Sokka…

A match that had another chance of cementing itself the next weekend: Azula was ready to exert her artistic chops and prove herself capable of painting minis along with Sokka. It was, without a doubt, the nerdiest thing she'd done, but she enjoyed herself thoroughly with it while Sokka's dumb, stupid heart continued to pound faster… she didn't really like him. She was just having fun, right? And that was great! He wanted her to have fun. But she couldn't possibly fancy him on any level, not necessarily because he thought himself lacking in appeal in any way… no, it was simply too lucky. He wasn't that lucky, was he? Unrequited love was typical, expected… he couldn't possibly have bottled up a crush on her since their very first encounter, when she had visited Zuko on campus once, only to discover years later that perhaps she felt the same way about him…

"Hmm… who's this?" Azula said, eyeing one of the characters she was painting with disapproving eyes. Sokka chuckled. "It looks like a plain, boring human…"

"That's Jet's character, actually. I won't go into details, though. You really shouldn't be here, you're getting spoiled, to a fault…" Sokka smirked. Azula raised her eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean I, by some chance, am your favorite player already?" Azula asked. Sokka snorted. "It's quite alright to have some biases, I'd say. Better, even. As long as it means you favor me, of course, favor someone else and I'll decry it as utterly unfair…"

"Of course you would," Sokka chuckled, shaking his head. "You're the one who asked to be here, you said you couldn't stand letting me and my clumsy computer nerd hands handle your character, so…"

"Oh, I didn't say anything about your hands. They're not clumsy, I'm sure," Azula said. "As a computer nerd, I'm sure you have to work with some very… delicate parts, don't you?"

Her wording might not have been odd if it weren't for the inflection of her voice upon speaking them. Sokka didn't respond, eyeing her again as she smirked deviously.

"You… are really a menace," Sokka chuckled, and Azula laughed too. "Honestly…"

"Computer parts, of course! Goodness, Sokka, really… everything is an innuendo with you," she said, shaking her head. Sokka raised his eyebrows.

"Right. It's me. Of course it's me," he said, face red as Azula laughed again.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop if you're uncomfortable…"

"I'm… not that uncomfortable. But I admit it's kind of surprising that you'd poke fun at me with this sort of stuff," Sokka said. "I suppose Zuko will be grateful if you decide I'm your new target for teasing…"

"Oh, he'll never get out of being tormented by me. Sibling contract, remember? Lasts forever," Azula said, smirking. "But you're… fun to tease, in your own way, for sure. Still, it's just… I'm afraid my character is the prettiest of the bunch, you know?"

"Probably," Sokka admitted. Azula smirked at him.

"See? Of course she is. No wonder she's your favorite…"

"Yes, no wonder," Sokka chuckled: he'd do best to focus on the next figurine he had to work on, or else he'd never get anything done if he solely paid attention to Azula.

"Whereas the rest of them look lame," Azula sighed, shaking her head. "How could I possibly romance any of them?"

"Oh? That's the problem?" Sokka asked, amused. Azula nodded, feigning genuine consternation as she closed her eyes. "You might like their personalities, though…"

"Say that I don't…" Azula said, eyeing Sokka warily. "I suppose I'm just trying to set the record straight here… you play lots of NPCs, right? Non-playable characters?"

"I do," Sokka blinked blankly.

"Romance… isn't restricted to player characters, is it?" Azula asked, with a slowly growing grin.

Sokka's heart jolted. Azula raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer as Sokka seemed to forget how to speak altogether. His lips parted, but no words came out as Azula chuckled, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"Oh, my: your blue eyes are flashing some weird code… it's a blue screen of death! Damn it. I guess I might need that USB stick to fix you, don't I? Where did you put it, I wonder…?"

"N-n-no need. I'm… here. Somehow. I think," Sokka swallowed hard. Azula chuckled, biting her lip as she eyed him questioningly.

"You played Aang's wife once, you said? Is it that much worse to come up with a character I could romance?" she asked. "A way prettier one than this lot, too…"

"Heh. I mean… I could, but, uh… probably not right away?" Sokka said, with an awkward smile. "I mean, I do have the whole campaign planned and all, so… might be better to save it for when we're close to the end, heh. T-that way… Fyrelith could even have a happy ending with someone. Right? Could be… that's the purpose she wants in life? Well, if we end up playing things and it feels right, of course…"

"Hmm," Azula said, frowning. "It's a little strange to plan the ending, though. I mean, you could, but I shouldn't be involved in preparing for that… no matter how much of a DM's pet I may be, right?"

"Uh, right," Sokka said, cheeks flushed as she pointed out he was being terribly unprofessional, quite accurately too. "You should roleplay, that's the point, heh. Just… roleplay with whatever feels right for your character."

"Whatever feels right?" Azula repeated. Sokka nodded promptly. "And… what about you? Would you set any boundaries, as a DM? You really should…"

"Well, if someone ever went out of line I'd definitely try to reel them back in," Sokka said. Azula hummed. "I don't think anything like that has ever happened… but I guess with so many new players, things might be different. Still… I think if anything makes me too uncomfortable I'd just say it, yeah."

"Hmm. I suppose that's how it is," Azula said, with a slow smile. "Well, then… I think my questions have been answered now. Fyrelith might be lucky, or perhaps not so much… we'll see depending on if you can come up with NPCs up to her standards, of course."

"That's not a lot of pressure, no…" Sokka chuckled, focusing on working on the minis once more now: his heart was still racing, but he felt slightly better now that Azula's curiosity appeared to be sated.

He really wasn't crazy for thinking there was a strange kind of energy between them, was he? It was an attraction he wasn't sure he had experienced in such a way ever before. Zuko nearly had a meltdown over the concept of Sokka and Azula dating, it was true, but he seemed to be over it by now – that was, as long as texting him links to the 'MY BEST FRIEND AND MY SISTER?' scene from Friends every two days meant he was over it – and his opposition to the concept appeared to be mostly over the realization that Azula would be the most obnoxious girlfriend to Sokka solely to make her brother uncomfortable… but that didn't mean this was a certain thing. Sokka liked her… he really did and he wasn't going to pretend otherwise. Sometimes, he couldn't help but imagine she felt the same way… but did she? Her satisfied smirk as she worked on Jet's character suggested she was up to something… and Sokka couldn't help but want to learn exactly what it was.

He didn't on that day, of course: before they could get too comfortable, before they could even hope to discuss whatever was going on between them, the doorbell rang and Sokka had to open the door to his sister, who was bringing a food parcel their parents had left her with… and upon finding Azula and Sokka were deep in the process of perfecting the minis, Katara rushed in to join them, delighted by the chance to work on her character as well. Thus, once again, their privacy was no more… but judging by Azula's pleasant mood that afternoon, she was genuinely unbothered by that. She and Katara had plenty of conversations about their expectations from the campaign, and Sokka laughed at their assumptions while clearing up his sister's questions and fielding off Azula's relentless, clever teasing.

By then, Sokka only had a few more preparations left before the campaign could begin, and he handled them as quickly as possible: the whole party agreed upon a regular schedule, and they would attempt to make their encounters a weekly appointment, if possible. Once Sokka was done with his final tweaks to the story, as well as with building the maps he expected he'd need, at least for the initial adventures, he texted the group chat to inform them of the date on which their campaign would begin, and he received full approval from everyone.

Thus, on the appointed day, Sokka's biggest campaign as a Dungeon Master was finally ready to begin.

Some introductions were in order, as several members of the group hadn't met before: Jet's little brother was adamant about being called The Duke, and he was entirely into his roleplaying from the moment he arrived. His character was a dwarven noble called Dain, an artificer with magical aptitudes. His brother, Jet, chose the most straightforward and simple character, a human fighter, only to irritate his brother by how utterly basic he was – and to top it off, he called the character Jet, too. Toph, on her part, chose to play as a male half-orc barbarian called Stout, and she warned everyone that she'd go all out with this game, seeing as it was finally a game where being blind wasn't much of a detriment, for she had Braille dice and she would be able to feel her rolls directly. Katara had chosen to be an elven wizard called Ilyrana, Ty Lee was a monk Air Genasi whom she had named, Aerya, Mai was a rogue aasimar with the name Andril, while Suki had chosen to be a gnome ranger called Selwyn. Aang's halfling druid was called Anrin, and Zuko had picked the name Ixuus for his dragonborn warlock.

Once everyone sat at the long table with their respective gear fully ready, the game finally began. Sokka weaved his storytelling wonders upon the group gradually, hoping to ease the process of introduction into the game for those who had never played Dungeons and Dragons before. He encouraged them to interact among themselves, Zuko and Aang helped him in teaching the others how to roleplay by example, though they hadn't needed to do so for the Duke, the only other experienced player at the table.

While things started slow, they picked up speed quickly: a set of missions gone wrong had caused all their characters, mercenaries attempting to make a living, to converge at a suspicious tavern that all leads had pointed them towards. A perfectly innocent innkeeper had provided them with no further information, though, as well as no means through which to investigate the inn's room where the suspicions were leading them.

"This guy's not going to crack easily, huh?" Jet said, raising an eyebrow.

"Not if we keep rolling so poorly," Aang groaned, glaring at the natural one on his dice tray.

"How about we just go upstairs, bust the door open and get this over with?" Toph growled, in-character, and the others shut her down immediately. "What? It'd make it way easier! Aren't we a bunch of scary mercenaries or whatever?"

"That doesn't mean we have to pick fights everywhere we go," Katara said, with a dry grin. "We could, uh, sneak in from the window, maybe? I don't know, I suppose Andril and Aerya might be able to do that…"

"What we require…" Azula cut in, her voice ringing with authority and a sultriness that Sokka shouldn't have found as appealing as he did… "Is a distraction, is it not?"

"A distraction?" Zuko replied. "Uh… okay? We're listening."

"If I can distract the innkeeper, you lot can, perhaps, find a spare key and head upstairs. Find whatever leads you can while I ensure the innkeeper is properly occupied…" Azula said, with a shrug. "And that way we'll finally make some progress."

"I think that sounds reasonable," The Duke said, firmly. "Let's listen to the tiefling, though I warn all of you, tieflings can be tricky, but…"

"Oh, please. What would I have to gain from tricking any of you?" Azula said, rolling her eyes. "I'm only in this for… uh, well, that's my business, isn't it?"

"That doesn't make you any more trustworthy, you know?" The Duke hissed. "But… we could use your abilities. So… do your best, tiefling."

"I have a name," Azula said. "But… to be entirely fair, I can't pretend I'd care if you use it. Anyway…"

She turned towards Sokka, smiling deviously. He chuckled and shrugged.

"You walk up to the innkeeper," Sokka said. Azula nodded.

"What does he look like?"

"Oh, uh… human, about mid-thirties? Dark hair, tan skin, not too bulky but not weak either, his duties at the inn keep him in alright shape," Sokka reasoned. Azula hummed.

"Good sir… may I ask for your name?" she smiled. Sokka slipped into character immediately and smiled.

"I'm Goldric, my lady. May I help you?" he said. Azula's smile widened.

"Oh, you may indeed," she said. Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"Is there, um, a drink I could bring you, or…?"

"Perhaps instead of bringing a drink here, you could, uh… bring me into your cellar instead? I have a good eye for the best wine vintages, you see," Azula said, with a wicked smile. "Perhaps we could even… share a bottle in private, if you would be so inclined?"

The whole table fell silent as Azula smirked at Sokka. He blinked once, then twice… then he cleared his throat, hoping not to blush too profusely.

"Okay, then… roll a d20 for persuasion?" Sokka blinked blankly – he had thought the innkeeper might have been a family man, with young children… but if that roll was too high, he'd scrap that notion immediately. Azula didn't need him to cause unnecessary drama for her character on the first time she had taken the initiative in the campaign, so…

Azula picked out the dice of twenty sides from her set, and she rolled into her dice tray. Aang, sitting beside her, gasped when the dice stopped…

"Natural twenty?!"

Sokka's jaw dropped. The entire table broke out in laughter as Azula stretched her arms out in a most arrogant gesture, clapping her hands as if to say her job was complete. Sokka, still shocked, blinked himself out of his amazement and smiled at Azula.

"Well, then. Heh. Okay," he said, swallowing hard before getting into character. "O-oh, uh… sure! That sounds lovely. I… gladly. Come, come. This way…"

"How very generous of you. I assure you, you shall be rewarded with sufficient generosity as well," Azula smirked. Sokka broke out of character with laughter as he shook his head.

"Congratulations: you seduced the innkeeper."

Azula raised a fist in the air in proud celebration while the others laughed at her unexpected solution for their predicament. Sokka chuckled too as he continued the story: the group took to rummaging through the innkeeper's things, found a master key and opened the door to their suspect's room. The man they were looking for was there… but not in good shape: a Shadow was sucking the life out of him, it seemed, and the party had to attempt to save the man in order to learn what his true purpose and intent were.

"Okay, so… roll for initiative! Roll your d20s and add your dexterity modifier," Sokka smiled. Azula frowned.

"Uh… this is to determine the order of combat, is it?" she asked. Sokka nodded. "I see."

"It is, so… why aren't you rolling?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow as the others began announcing their initiative numbers. Sokka ignored them, though, as Azula smirked at him.

"Because I'm not in combat, am I?"

"You… wait, what?" Sokka smiled awkwardly.

"A natural twenty means… a critical success, doesn't it?" Azula said, arms folded over her chest. "If I was that successful at persuading and seducing that guy… well, it's pretty obvious I'm going to be busy for at least the next, uh, fifteen minutes, give or take."

"Azula…?" Zuko blinked blankly, staring at her from across the table. Beside him, Suki snorted in amusement.

"You're actually fucking the innkeeper while the rest of us are in the middle of a fight?" she asked.

Azula's response was a perfectly shameless shrug: the whole room rang with laughter as she smirked proudly at an utterly flustered Sokka. His face probably had never been as red… for he had never allowed himself to picture, not truly, the notion of himself and Azula engaging in any manner of sexual activity. Nope. And he wasn't about to start thinking about it now. He wasn't going to. He wouldn't…

Oh, well. Why deny it? He'd pictured it now, and it was more than enough to send his brain into overdrive.

The combat scene was difficult to focus on, especially with the relentless teasing of the rest of the players, asking Azula to make performance rolls to find out just how well things were going for her and the innkeeper. Sokka told her not to bother – she still tried, scoring a 17 and a 15 on the first rounds, and Sokka's flustered face spoke for itself regarding what a successful result that was. Still, the battle against the Shadow resulted in victory for the party, Azula apparently was quite satisfied with her cellar adventures with the innkeeper, and their first session ended in utter triumph for the whole party.

"I know it caught you by surprise, but it was my very first idea on how to resolve the situation," Azula laughed that night as Sokka walked her to her car, parked right outside his house. "Did I go too far?"

"Well… I don't know. Depends on how you went about fucking the innkeeper, I suppose," Sokka said, with an awkward smile. Azula laughed, shaking her head.

"More like how he went about fucking me, I suppose, but…"

"Don't play coy now: your tiefling's got to be some sort of incredible dominatrix, accept the truth already," Sokka said, and Azula's laughter seemed to ring across the neighborhood at his accusations.

"Fine, then, fine," she smiled, pulling her car's door open. "You're sure it's okay, though?"

"It is," Sokka nodded, smiling at her. "I'll put my foot down if I change my mind, alright?"

"Sounds about right. I'll play nice if you do. And I'll keep playing naughty in the meantime," Azula smirked, winking at him before slipping into the driver's seat.

Sokka swallowed hard, struggling to suppress the shudder of delight that had rushed through his body over her words and gesture. Maybe he shouldn't be so thrilled about their next session merely for the sake of seeing Azula again, of being the target of her wicked teasing, as he had been today, but he couldn't quite help but look forward to it for that reason all the same…

On the next week, Sokka prepared himself as best he could for a wholly different adventure: the party's investigations into the previous session's events resulted in a journey that took them out of the city and into the wild forests beyond it. Sokka had a few plans for what they'd find… but first off, he wanted to cause some chaos by featuring a few surprise combat encounters along the way. The first ones weren't all that tricky to handle, but then he released his grand threat upon the party…

"Everyone: roll initiative!" Sokka declared, setting the large orc's mini on the map he'd prepared as everyone gaped at him in horror.

"Shit! I didn't think we'd get attacked by anything right before we got to the summit…" Katara winced, looking at Sokka in horror. "You're mean, Sokka! We're almost there, you said…!"

"Hey, it's the way the game works. Take it or leave it," Sokka smirked: everyone rolled, and everyone offered Sokka their respective initiative results as the battle against the terrifying orc began.

Of course, all was going well right until Azula's character stepped up to the orc Sokka had placed on the battlefield. The orc's turn came right after hers, he had already taken a few blows by the other players – ranged blows, mostly – and her choice to be in such proximity with the orc seemed a rather wild one to make…

"It's pretty unsafe to be in close quarters with this guy. He'll get an attack of opportunity…" Sokka pointed out, and Azula huffed, brushing through the rulebook.

"From what I understand, even if we leveled up to second level last week, I actually cannot use second-level spells yet?"

"Uh, you can't yet, no," Sokka said. Azula huffed, shaking her head.

"Well, that's too bad but I suppose Charm Person will do?"

Sokka's jaw dropped. The others let out a deep 'ooooh' while eyeing Sokka deviously, since that wasn't something he'd planned for at all. Azula smiled wickedly again, closing the book and shrugging.

"Mind making a wisdom saving throw for me, mighty orc?" she asked. Sokka huffed, shaking his head before rolling the dice.

"What's the DC?" he asked. Azula hummed before finding the right stat for Sokka to measure himself against.

"That would be a fourteen, yes," she said. The Duke, Aang and Zuko hummed at the surprisingly high number while at such a low level. "Indeed, my charisma is quite high. You're most unfortunate for that, my lovely orc."

"Well… the lovely orc has rolled a fifteen, so I'm afraid your spell didn't take hold," Sokka smiled. Azula gasped in horror as the table groaned.

"That's not fair," she said, huffing. Sokka shrugged. "And here I was thinking we could have so much fun…"

"Wait, what?" Jet snorted. "Again?"

"Are you slutshaming Fyrelith? Are you?" Azula asked, glaring at him playfully from over Aang's head. Jet cackled, covering his face with a hand as Ty Lee's jaw dropped.

"Azula! I didn't know you had this in you!" she said. Azula scoffed.

"Me? It's what Fyrelith wants, I'm only channeling what the character requires. Simple," Azula said, with a bright grin.

"Well, I'm afraid you're not going to bang an orc that's hellbent on trying to kill you for trespassing on his territory," Sokka said, with a sarcastic smile. Azula scoffed.

"I can still try again…"

"Don't waste all your spell slots on this nonsense!" Zuko squealed: Azula groaned, waving a dismissive hand at him. "Azula!"

The fight continued once her turn was over – and of course, Azula took damage from the orc once his turn arrived. He roared before delivering a sharp slap across her face: Azula dignified that with a whimper of pain… and then a devious smile.

"I see you like it rough, do you? How delightful…" she said, and the others laughed again as Sokka groaned, looking at her in disbelief.

"He attacked you! This is an unhealthy fixation you're developing with this guy!" Sokka said. "Don't try to bang people who hurt you, Azula!"

"Oh, now, I wouldn't! But Fyrelith is a whole other story, you see…"

"He's a hideous-looking orc! Look!" Sokka's voice cracked as he picked up the mini, showing it closely at Azula while the rest of the table roared with laughter. She tilted her head to the side, smirking and biting her lower lip.

"There's just this rugged handsomeness about him, though…"

"Holy crap, you're completely incorrigible," Sokka surrendered, setting the mini in place again as he smiled in disbelief at her. "I really hope you guys go to a temple soon. I feel like someone has to exorcize Fyrelith…"

"If only one of us were a cleric…" sighed The Duke, shooting a glare at his brother, who stuck a tongue out at him.

"Why should I be the cleric? You be the cleric…"

The sibling argument unfolded carelessly then as the fight carried forward: a full round was done, and the orc was not in the best of shapes once Azula's turn came around anew. Sokka shot her a wary look. She responded with a devious smirk. Sokka raised a menacing hand.

"Azula…"

"I… would like to persuade him," she said. Sokka's jaw dropped. "Regular, plain persuasion. No spells, or Zuzu won't let me live it down. So…"

"Right. Well, then. Go on and try!" Sokka said, with a disbelieving smirk. "Disadvantage, because you're talking to a dude who's bleeding pretty profusely after the rest of your party hacked away at him like nobody's business…"

"Disadvantage, then. I see," Azula nodded before breathing in and getting into character once again, eyeing Sokka luridly. "Please, now, we can resolve this in an agreeable way, can we not? A specimen as strong and sturdy as you… I'm sure I could heal your wounds from this fight and, I don't know, learn a thing or two about orc anatomy while we're at it?"

She wiggled her eyebrows and Sokka shot her a defiant glare. He gestured with his chin, and Azula picked up her twenty-sided dice: the first result was a fifteen… and the second, an eight.

"Well, then, disadvantage says you failed," Sokka smiled in relief… only for The Duke to hum, eyeing him questioningly.

"I'm not sure about that, you know? Because you probably should do an Insight check yourself," The Duke said. Sokka froze, glaring at one of the more experienced players at the table. "I mean, I don't know how smart you want to make this guy sound, but…"

"That's a good point. He doesn't sound all that smart to me," Aang laughed.

"This could work? You could actually seduce an orc with a roll as low as eight?" Mai asked, skeptical. Azula shrugged carelessly.

"I was about to accept my failure but if that sounds reasonable…" Azula said, smiling at Sokka again: his eyebrow twitched as he glared at Aang. "Oh, come on, it's an eight, isn't it? Hardly like you're bound to fail it."

"Well… the orc's wisdom modifier is minus two," Sokka revealed, and the whole table gasped in amazement. Azula blinked blankly, a slow smile spreading over her face. "And that's what affects insight. So… as long as I get ten or higher, sure, I'm fine, but… fuck."

He hadn't thought to do an insight check himself – it seemed to him that this orc could very well just be a violent asshole who was uninterested in a seductive tiefling. But it might be entertaining to roll against Azula's roll…

His d20 rolled in his dice tray before settling on a seven.

Sokka yelped. Azula gasped happily, even if she hadn't seen the number directly.

"Did it work?! Did it work?!" Ty Lee exclaimed: Sokka covered his face in his hands as a response…

And the entire table erupted in a spree of wild cheers. Azula laughed harder than anyone – she had assumed it wouldn't pay off, she seemed resigned to an adverse result… oh, but seeing her laugh that way was more than enough for Sokka. Even if it meant his orc was a smitten fool now, of course.

"U-uh, I, uh… What? What? You're, um… pretty," he said, roleplaying as the orc again. Azula laughed and nodded.

"Aren't I? That's wonderful of you to say. But now I'd very much like it if you would stop fighting my comrades?" Azula said, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. Sokka groaned.

"I… fight them. You're my snack for later," he decided, turning his focus on the others again: the whole table gasped at the way he had circumvented the situation, preventing a strange, diplomatic solution just when it seemed to be at hand.

"Wait, what?!" Suki gasped. "You can't just ignore her, she persuaded you!"

"She persuaded him of her value as a healer and as a snack, I suppose," Sokka smiled. "But you lot? You didn't persuade him of anything, he's not very bright, so he won't decide you're all harmless just because he thinks she is. See?"

"Let me at him, I'll tear that orc a new one…" Toph said, cracking her knuckles. "It's my turn after he's done with his, right? I'll finish him off…!"

"Wait… I have a bonus action, don't I?" Azula said, stopping Toph on her tracks.

"Sure…?" Sokka blinked blankly.

"I didn't really attack, so I'm not sure if this whole thing about offhand action is plausible?" Azula said. Sokka raised an eyebrow. "Can I bargain with you to make, uh, a manner of attack, I'd say?"

"A manner of attack?" Sokka asked. "What, you're going to smack the orc with your staff? Kind of a little too much if that's what you…"

"No, no, no… I'm going to flash him."

"You're…" Sokka started… then he froze on his tracks. His jaw dropped as the table fell utterly silent. Azula blinked blankly a few times, as if waiting for him to speak. "You're… going to flash him. Like… pull your corset open and…?"

"Exactly."

The table roared with laughter again at Sokka's utter perplexity. Azula shrugged, mimicking the potential action with one hand hovering by her chest.

"See, tugging the binding loose quickly isn't going to be that hard, then Fyrelith just has to push her chest out and…"

"Okay! That's a visual!" Sokka exclaimed, face red as he huffed, eyes wide in horror. Azula laughed, and even she was slightly flustered now.

"Too much for a bonus action? Damn. Guess Toph might have to finish him off, then," she chuckled.

"Azula… roll two d8s," Sokka sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Yep. One for each breast," Sokka snorted: a gasp, and another spree of laughter overtook the table as Azula chuckled, rolling the two dice.

"What exactly is this roll supposed to even be?" Katara asked, eyeing her brother in utter confusion.

"If you must know… psychic damage," Sokka said, bluntly, and the others laughed again at his earnest answer. Azula chuckled.

"I wonder if you'd have picked a die with more sides if her rack was any bigger," Azula said. "I got a 12, by the way."

"Twelve?" Sokka asked, with a widening smirk as he eyed his creature's remaining ten hit points. "Azula… you did a great job! You killed a guy by flashing him!"

"What?!" Azula gasped, horrified as the others laughed and cheered her on. "B-but…no! I was trying to…!"

"You could definitely call it a killer rack now, I have to say…" Sokka smirked, as the others laughed even harder. "Nice move. Never knew it was a doable one, but hey! That was pretty damn clever of you. See how great roleplaying can be? You let the dice tell the story…!"

"Even if it results in death by tits," Toph smirked.

"Curses… this isn't over, DM," Azula hissed, raising a menacing finger in his direction. "One way or another… I will have my revenge."

"Well, be my guest and continue to attempt it," Sokka smirked, shaking his head. "You know, I thought your character was seeking a purpose in life…?"

"Apparently that purpose is banging every eligible individual in the realm," Mai said. Azula smiled deviously at her.

"Well, not every eligible one. As far as I can tell, you lot are single, ready to mingle and yet…"

She eyed everyone in the table with distaste and judgment, resulting in another spree of laughter by them all. She waved a hand dismissively in their direction as Jet, the more affronted of the group, cleared his throat.

"And what if I try to romance you?" he asked – Sokka scolded himself for feeling any manner of jealous pangs at the notion of Jet hitting on Azula, even if just her character. "I'm a human and, while my brother thinks that's the most boring thing in the world…"

"It is!"

"I'm perfectly handsome too," Jet grinned. "And, uh, I suppose technically my guy is still looking at your rack…"

"Oh, is he?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. "Azula, roll another two d8…"

"Okay no! Okay, stop, I'm a decent guy! I'm not looking!" Jet squealed, as the table laughed again – it wasn't likely that he'd die over the result of that roll, but he wasn't willing to risk it.

"Ah, how unfortunate. How will I ever find anyone who can withstand looking at my chest without dying in the process?" Azula sighed dramatically, before nodding at Sokka. "And so, I tied up my corset again and my, uh, C-cups are properly hidden once more."

"Ah, and they're C-cups?" Katara asked, amused. Azula nodded sagely.

"You see, I'm theorizing that it'd be a d4 of psychic damage if it were an A-cup, a d6 if it's a B-cup so a d8 if it's a C-cup, I'm assuming, d10 for a D-cup, so…"

"Are you seriously coming up with homebrew rules for the psychic damage in terms of bra sizes?" Sokka asked, gawking at Azula in disbelief. She nodded sagely.

"Well, why not? The other girls might need to do this sometimes to get out of trouble, I'm just offering some helpful resources…"

"Yeah, you know what? I'm writing that down, definitely going to keep that damage chart handy for the future…" Suki declared, making notes of Azula's new ideas while Sokka struggled with his own laughter.

"This… is either the best campaign of all time or the worst. Still too soon to tell," he said. Azula chuckled, and Sokka was delighted to find her eyes seemed even sympathetic and slightly apologetic over the utter embarrassment she had subjected him to with her relentless teasing.

They talked matters over again afterwards, with Azula confessing she had worried that her latest idea was slightly too bold, but Sokka reassured her: this strange tug of war they were holding in the game was thoroughly entertaining for the two of them, as well as the rest of their friends.

So, after confirming yet again that no worrisome boundaries had been breached, their amusing clashing continued in the next sessions: every new character Sokka introduced was immediately a potential target for Azula's wicked ideas. Sometimes her checks succeeded, just as sometimes they failed: on occasion, Sokka would make up new, appealing characters on the fly just to mess with her whenever she was trying to have her way with another one, but sometimes Azula would improvise upon his choices, down to even having her character engage in a rather wild situation with a pair of elves, both too naïve to understand what she was up to as she dragged them into a private room. Her deviousness knew no boundaries, and the people at the table seemed to find her character's antics a grand highlight of each session: they'd even start placing their bets on which newly-introduced character Fyrelith might attempt to sleep with, while also even making their own attempts at bonding with each other as well as her character – Jet continued to attempt to flirt with her, and her deadpan responses caused everyone to roar with laughter as he continued to wonder what, exactly, was so unappealing about his human fighter.

It was a genuine miracle that their group managed to stick to their schedule almost flawlessly, and their campaign flowed quite successfully because of that. New friendships and bonds had been built between everyone, both within the story and outside it, and their genuine enjoyment of the campaign was palpable as their characters gained further strength, now having reached level seven and finally becoming a proper adventuring group, according to the more experienced players.

But something carried over from the first session until the fifteenth: Azula smirked in a telling way as soon as Sokka finished introducing a new character…

"Hey. Hey!" Sokka glared at her menacingly. "Careful where you tread, young lady!"

"What? I'm just thinking… a blacksmith? That's… interesting," Azula laughed as Sokka huffed, shaking his head.

"She's a married woman, damn it!" Sokka squeaked. "And besides… she's straight!"

"Oh, really? As if seeing a lady as hot as Fyrelith wouldn't cause her to question her sexuality at least a little bit…?" Azula said, smirking deviously at Sokka. He huffed. "Come on. Just let me roll for it. I swear I'll leave her alone if I fail."

"So… you're saying you don't mind that she's married?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.

"Well, I don't think Fyrelith would, no. She's terribly amoral, remember? Chaotic neutral," Azula grinned, with a careless shrug.

"If you become a homewrecker after this, you might actually be chaotic evil," Katara smirked. Azula rolled her eyes.

"Semantics…" she said, dismissively, and everyone at the table laughed. Sokka huffed, glaring at her meaningfully.

"You insist on giving it a shot?" he asked. Azula smirked.

"You do realize you're supposed to be the boss here? If you want to put your foot down and say this lady's days of experimentation are behind her, go for it. But if you think she'd be even slightly curious…"

Sokka held her gaze, and Azula's smirk didn't dwindle at all. He breathed deeply… before giving her his verdict:

"Roll for persuasion with disadvantage," he hissed. Azula laughed deviously.

"Oh, I don't know about this blacksmith but you, DM, have a soft spot for Fyrelith for sure…" Azula snickered, rolling two twenty-sided dice, as commanded…

Aang, beside her, gasped. Azula raised her eyebrows upon looking at the numbers on the pair of dice…

"What? What?!" Sokka whimpered. Azula smirked again, though there was a smidge of remorse as well.

"Natural twenty… and natural nineteen."

Sokka's eyes widened. His face paled. Azula couldn't muffle her laughter as the rest of the table broke out in laughter as well: Sokka groaned, shaking his head in horror before taking his own dice: he could do this, he could do this, if he rolled high enough he might counter her roll…

A nine, of course, wasn't going to be a high enough number to defeat her.

"Ugh. Fine. Fine. You win," Sokka groaned. Azula giggled wickedly.

"You could say I have a… weakness for strong arms. I'd never seen any quite so strong in a lady before, too," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Mine are pretty strong, though!" Ty Lee exclaimed, beaming: Azula shot her a deadpan glare, like the ones she typically shot Jet. "I mean, I'm not saying I'm interested, but…"

"I… found a much better offer right here. A delightfully strong woman, right? Right?" Azula said, teasing Sokka into roleplaying. His tense smile spoke for itself.

"I… I must say, I don't really know what you mean…" he said, trying to sound as feminine as possible while everyone laughed. Azula chuckled, gazing at him with teasing affection.

"Now, now, don't be so modest… though if you'd truly like to know what I meant, dear, there's one rather interesting way of going about it," she said, biting her lip. "Mind introducing me to your… forge?"

"Uh… sure! You'd like to see it? Perfect!" Sokka grinned awkwardly before letting out a deep sigh. "And so, Fyrelith has gotten laid, officially, six times."

The table erupted in cheers as Azula cackled with deviousness, clapping as well at Sokka's declaration.

"Does that include the two elves?" asked Toph, smirking.

"Six times, seven partners. The distinction is worth pointing out, I suppose," Azula laughed. "Ah, it could be more, but you have been terribly stingy with some characters, Sokka. Like that wonderful orc. He might have been Fyrelith's soulmate and yet…"

"Fyrelith killed him herself, so don't guilt me about it," Sokka chuckled, shaking his head.

"Come to think of it, shouldn't you roll the damage against the blacksmith lady?" Mai smirked. "Probably against all the people who've seen your breasts by now, Fyrelith…"

"Oh, well, it's not a combat situation, so I don't think it'll be necessarily damaging then…" Sokka said. Azula let out a happy sigh.

"Ah, I did worry about that, but it's good to know that's your verdict, Sokka," she said.

"You should do some sort of performance check to make sure it doesn't do damage, though," chuckled The Duke. "I mean, the lady's never been with a female tiefling before, right?"

"So, you think… what, that a low roll would mean she'd faint as soon as I take off my clothes?" Azula scoffed. The Duke shrugged, and Sokka grinned.

"Hey! That's a good idea! Performance checks to find out how this tryst turned out!" he said. "Come on, Azula, it's a performance check…!"

"Well, I suppose at least performance works with the charisma modifier, better than athletics for someone like me…" Azula said, raising her eyebrows as she picked up her dice and rolled it… and she snorted, throwing her head back in amusement. "Why can't I roll this well for initiative calls? Got a sixteen, my charisma modifier is plus four, so…"

"Another twenty?" Sokka's eyebrow twitched. "Well… I got a fifteen here. So… ehem. You guys are just waiting for Fyrelith to be done with her business which, I suppose, means that you'll get all your equipment repairs for free since a performance check that high would get you that much of a discount…"

"Hell yeah!" The Duke laughed.

"Okay, Azula: you're banging the clerk of the potions shops next time," Zuko said, smirking. "I wouldn't be encouraging you to do this, normally, but…"

"Ah, finally accepting my life's choices, brother: thank you. I've always waited for this moment…" Azula responded, dramatically: even though he was usually quite irritated by Azula's antics, it seemed her primary focus on Sokka during these games had eased up Zuko's tension and irritable behavior at his sister.

"After about thirty minutes or so," Sokka continued. "You see Fyrelith is leaving the forge room, looking… eh, like she usually does. Meanwhile, the blacksmith is following her with lovestruck eyes and trembling hands…"

"Oh, no!" Katara snorted, covering her mouth with a hand as Azula's eyes widened. Sokka smiled deviously at Azula.

"Oh, my lady! T-that was incredible! Where did you learn such techniques? I… I am, uh, of course, talking about forging techniques, haha! Yes, yes, do not judge me, please…!" Sokka roleplayed, acting bashful and shameless all at once as the rest of the table broke into laughter while Azula, for once, dropped her face in her hand. "My lady, would you like to stay? For a day, maybe! The night! Surely you need a place to stay! My husband, oh, he'll be delighted to meet you as well…!"

"I… don't think so," Azula said, with a weak smile. "Goodness, if you're this thrilled about my performance, I sincerely doubt he's any good in bed himself…"

"Oh, he's not! But you, my lady…!" Sokka said, his voice as greedy as could be. Azula couldn't keep a straight face anymore as she closed her eyes in laughter. "I'm sure you could teach him so much if you stay and…!"

"We… have a journey to continue!" Zuko cut in, with a dry grin. Sokka scoffed at him. "I'm afraid we cannot stay any longer than we have."

"I can get you some food! Some drinks, too…!"

"Hell, yeah!" Toph roared.

"Toph!" the others rebuffed her, and she shrugged carelessly in their direction.

It was yet another victory for Azula, then, as the dice had favored her this time… but a week later, Sokka ensured to turn the tables. He knew Azula had boundaries of her own, there was no way that wouldn't be the case… and after leading the party into a large swamp, filled with festering corpses he introduced that day's main non-playable character…

"You come across a dark-haired, blue-eyed humanoid," Sokka said: Azula's knowing smile tickled him, as he knew what was going through her mind already… and he smirked before delivering the final blow that would freeze Azula on the spot. "He is eight-years-old."

A collective gasp by the entire party. Azula's smile dwindled at once. Sokka smirked at her, proudly.

"He is… a stable boy of some sort, going by the appearance of his filthy attire, but he may have gotten lost during his journey," he said "And just as it has happened with many people you've met, the child has been haunted by Shadows, pushed away from home. He's nervous, downcast… but he smiles at once when your group approaches."

Sokka cleared his throat, and he hitched his voice purposefully, for the sake of impressing further childishness into his upcoming act.

"G-good day…" he said, shyly. "Are you travelers? I… I'm lost. I don't know where I am, I don't know what happened, I…"

"Child," Katara said, offering Sokka a sympathetic smile. "Don't fret. We'll help you, for sure. Are you alone out here?"

"Uh-huh…" Sokka nodded, making his best impression of an innocent child. Azula grimaced, a hand on her face.

"Really? No friends, no family out here with you?" Ty Lee asked.

"How did you wind up here, then?" Suki said. Sokka shrugged.

"I… I don't know. T-these spooky things, t-they scared me and I just ran. And then I woke up… here," he said, glancing around himself warily. "P-please… I just want to go back to the farm…"

"The farm… owned by your parents?" Azula asked. Sokka's eyes narrowed.

"My parents died," he said, curtly, his voice no longer as emotional, though still as shrill. Azula's eyebrow twitched.

"How about… an older sibling?" Azula asked.

"I have no one," Sokka said, bluntly. "I'm alone. It's just little old me."

"Little… as in, how old are you?" Azula asked, swallowing hard. "J-just… to be sure. A human child, right? That's what you are…?"

"I'm a human child and I'm eight-years-old," Sokka repeated.

For the first time, Azula groaned and dropped heavily on the table in a sign of defeat: the entire group gasped in shock, as Sokka raised his head proudly.

"Fine! Fine! I get the picture! It's over!" Azula exclaimed, as everyone laughed at her surrender. "You win, I lose! I cannot seduce a character, or attempt to, on every single session! I accept your judgment!"

"I mean… you can certainly try next week, but not this time," Sokka chuckled, but Azula scoffed in his direction.

"Don't play innocent now. You knew exactly what you were setting me up for here… and I respect it. I accept it. I… will rethink my life choices. Fyrelith shall do the same. From here on out, I shall become the most reasonable, goal-oriented sorcerer you've met. Though… I have no idea what my goal is yet, but I suppose the immediate goal should be coming up with a greater goal, yes…"

"So, you're going to stop seducing everything we come across?" Suki smiled sadly. "I mean, everything eligible, I suppose…"

"I fear your days of entertainment over my conquests are now over," Azula said: the whole table groaned in disappointment, and as much as she seemed resolute about her decision, Azula couldn't help but laugh at their reaction.

"Well, come on, I just wanted to tease you into not doing it all the time…" Sokka said, but Azula huffed in his direction.

"I can acknowledge it when I've been beaten. So… I accept this fate you've bestowed upon me. Rethinking my life, right now," she said, shaking her head. "Do not try to break my resolve, for it will be futile…"

"Oh, really?" Sokka smirked.

The fact that her resolve was, indeed, unbreakable, took Sokka by surprise on the next session: a couple of characters were introduced, and Azula made no move to hit on them or flirt with them at all.

"Oh, wow. Looks like she meant it," Aang blinked blankly as Azula behaved aloofly, shaking her head dismissively at everyone's confused stares.

"I feel like I'm being judged more harshly over not being promiscuous anymore than I ever was over my promiscuity," she pointed out, prompting some of the others to laugh. "Truly…"

"Well, we're worried about you, Fyrelith!" Katara laughed, in character once more. "Are you sure you're okay? That guy was okay-looking…"

"Oh, he was… but I have to be more responsible," Azula said, shaking her head. "In all this time I've sought a purpose… and meaningless, careless romps with random people felt like one, for a time. I fear I may need something greater, though."

"A real relationship!" Ty Lee suggested. Azula's eyebrow twitched.

"Not with any of you lot, I don't," she said, and as ever, everyone laughed at her rejection.

"Well, then, how about friendship?" Aang suggested, with a careless smile. "That can be its own kind of fulfillment… you'll see!"

Azula sighed, but she shrugged and complied: Sokka eyed her with a raised eyebrow, and she stared back challengingly. Did she mean he had to try harder to appeal to her? Was that what she was getting at?

But where nothing could scare her away before, now it seemed nothing interested her, instead. She started taking her character building far more seriously, interacting more with the other player characters, and while Sokka thought the direction she was taking her character in would be nice, she still constantly dropped hints that she hadn't found the fulfillment she sought yet. Multiple sessions went by, and nothing Sokka did got a rise out of her… but the way she eyed him sometimes thoroughly convinced him that she wanted him to try harder. Maybe he was wrong… but what if he wasn't?

The campaign carried on, and the other characters got away with having fun antics of their own, amusing storylines that had everyone at the table laughing often. Their characters continued to seek the true source of the Shadows plaguing the realm, ever hoping to put an end to the threat that constantly appeared to rise with further strength. Their team, too, grew stronger and wiser, enough to finally investigate deeply enough to track down their final foe… as well as to defy him in the opulent castle ruins in which he dwelled.

"I raise my staff and say: who are you? And why are you here?" Zuko growled.

Sokka closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again: he seemed to be fully in-character as the villainous entity they had been chasing for around half a year by now.

"Ixuus, the warlock," Sokka said, eyes drifting across the party members, one by one, in clockwise order starting with Zuko. "Selwyn, the ranger. Andril, the rogue. Ilyrana, the wizard. Stout, the barbarian. Dain, the artificer. Jet, the fighter. Aerya, the monk. Anrin, the druid. Fyrelith, the sorcerer. I see you have come to pay me a visit."

"We had something a little less friendly in mind," Jet said, with a smirk. "We don't know what you're trying to pull here, whoever you are… but the gig is up. We're here to take you down."

"Is that so?" Sokka said, his voice deep and menacing. "Just as you take down everything on your path, of course?"

"Hell, yeah!" Toph exclaimed, tossing a fist into the air.

Sokka sighed, shaking his head condescendingly. A few of the players eyed him skeptically as he relaxed on his chair, a strange air of authority and arrogance to him.

"You solely prove me correct in my choices. Every move you've made, every step forward into this violent world… made violent by your choices, not my own," Sokka said, a hint of mournfulness in his voice.

"Say what? You keep sending those Shadows to kill everything!" Suki scoffed.

"We've saved lots of people from them, you send them to kill us…" Katara said, shaking her head. "If anything, you're the one who's being violent! We were happy to be…!"

"Mercenaries. Murderers for hire," Sokka said, and the others froze. "You pretend to have morals, to fight for what's right and true… but what is right and true? It matters little to the likes of you, of course… to the likes of nature altogether. Of mortals, not solely your group of miscreants."

"Uh… I'm a little confused now," Aang said, smiling awkwardly at Sokka. "Are you trying to say that you hate us for being murderers? You hate… nature altogether?"

"When all began… the first speck of life was but a gift bestowed upon a world deemed beautiful, meant to be shared with others," Sokka sighed. "But as life thrived and grew, cruelty became the default choice by those whose hearts were conquered by greed, by hatred… by the need to covet more than they have earned. Satisfaction? It is beyond the likes of you… of all living, breathing beings across our world. It is not solely the sentient, for it's in the very instincts of all creatures in existence. The world is rotten. Life is rotten. It needs… to be purged."

"Well, I heard enough: let's wreck him!" Toph roared. Aang grimaced.

"But if we just fight him we'll prove him right, won't we? We should… go about it differently!" he said, nodding promptly. "Let's talk things over and convince him that life is worth fighting for."

"Uh, I don't think this was designed to be a situation where we can win through persuasion…" Zuko pointed out, and Aang pouted.

"It could be interesting if it were possible, though…" Azula said: the others eyed her skeptically. "What? I'm only saying, it's entirely possible to attempt it, though it probably will fail, but still…"

"Well, you're the one with the insanely high charisma stat… and a longer history of seduction than anyone else in this world, I presume," Mai smirked skeptically. "Hit on him. Maybe flash him, get that 2d8 damage…"

"You know, that's not a totally awful idea," Katara said, with a smile. "Technically, you were the one least inclined to pick fights because you preferred to sleep with everyone, so… how about it? You should totally talk this guy down!"

"I… am slightly out of practice," Azula said, raising her eyebrows and glancing at Sokka, who stared at her intently. "But I suppose it won't hurt to try?"

"I don't think I trust that guy… though I don't trust the tiefling much more than I trust him, honestly," The Duke said, with a grimace.

"She's pulled off some really incredible feats with her, uh, assets. I'm sure she can do something now," Jet grinned. "Go on, Fyrelith! Convince that guy that we don't just kill everything, we bed everything we can, too!"

"A respectable motto, yes," Azula agreed, nodding as the others laughed at Jet's words.

She breathed deeply then, turning towards Sokka. He stared her down defiantly, much as he had in the past.

"Well, I haven't done this in a while…" Azula said, biting her lip. "Yes, well, a few months, technically, but that's still a long time for me. At any rate… you have yet to answer our main question. Who are you?"

Sokka closed his eyes again, and he kept silent long enough to make them think he might not answer…

"I am Hessik. And I… am the mind from which this world first spawned."

Their jaws dropped. Everyone glanced among each other in confusion: a few non-playable clerics they'd met had mentioned Hessik's name here and there as some old entity, long-forgotten but recently rediscovered... even so, he had been revered as a deity, a god. An intangible, distant entity…

"This world… was my creation," he said. "And I have seen it grow corrupted with the cruelty in the hearts of all who cannot seem to stop reaching for more than they deserve. It is vile, it is vicious… and it is my wish to see it undone."

"Undone? You… intend to destroy this world, do you?" Azula asked. "And, perhaps, create a new one where such cruelty is needless? Yet… life is brittle, fragile. We cannot survive by doing nothing. By watching sunsets and sunrises, by breathing in flowers… for flowers, too, must drain water and nourishment from the earth. In doing so, they may overstep themselves, take more than they should, kill other flowers by stealing what the others need…"

"It is a flawed world, is it not?" Sokka said, bitterly. "I was young… I was foolish and I failed to predict an outcome that, after so many years, seems so obvious. But nothing will change for the better. There is nothing but cruelty and darkness awaiting… nothing but oblivion for the likes of your friends. But you…"

"Oh? What about me?" Azula blinked blankly: his eyes changed, softening slightly.

"You sought to resolve conflicts in unforeseen ways," he said. "I cannot say… that you sought to create life by doing so, no, certainly not… but you sought a higher purpose. Simple-minded mercenaries like your friends could never understand such a calling. You wanted more, did you not? So much more than traveling endlessly with buffoons who cannot appreciate your true qualities, your talents… your boundless wisdom."

"Boundless what? She flashed an orc!" Zuko squealed, as the rest of the table laughed at his intervention. Azula couldn't hold back a smile, though Sokka remained as serious as before. "That's wisdom?"

"Technically, it killed the orc, so…" Suki said, grabbing Zuko's hand reassuringly as he shook his head in disbelief.

"I… suppose my methods did not displease the creator of this world," Azula said, with a slow smirk. "However unethical as they may have been, at times."

"Unethical?" Sokka said, breathing deeply. "A young man in a tavern found his days monotonous and bleak… until you lured him into his cellar and provided him with a most delightful memory that sustains him to this day. An orc died… after you generously provided him, a creature with nothing but suffering and pain to sustain his existence, with the most beautiful vision he had ever seen: that of your bare breasts."

The fact that he managed to speak those words without breaking out into laughter certainly spoke well of his self-control: the rest of the table, of course, erupted in laughter at the surprising spin on Azula's choices.

"Two lonely elves had not known how to admit their affection for each other until you taught them how," Sokka continued. "As for the blacksmith… she enjoys a much more fulfilling life after you showed her the pleasures she had never experienced before. Her husband has learned from what she learned, too, and their marriage has improved vastly for it."

"Wow. See? Being promiscuous pays off!" Azula said at the rest of the table, who continued to laugh at the shocking outcome of the situation. She turned to Sokka again, a bright grin on her face. "Well, I had no idea I'd had such a positive impact on so many things, but I'm thrilled to learn as much…"

"What if he's lying?" The Duke asked.

"He's the creator of this world, so… one would think he has some level of omniscience?" asked Aang. "He knew all our names already, so…"

"I know more than enough. I know everything about everything… and in all the miserable years of being trapped within this world of my creation, a world I have sought to destroy so that I may finally set myself free by doing so, no one has ever impressed me in the way you have, Fyrelith Krylla."

"Wait… wait. Doesn't this mean that the persuasion idea actually might work?!" Suki gasped: the whole table stared at Sokka intently now, and he offered them a simple shrug in response.

"Holy shit," Zuko's eyes widened.

"Azula's going to bang a god!" Ty Lee laughed, clapping happily. "That's so wild!"

"I… might. But it depends on his willingness, of course," Azula said, smirking as she turned towards Sokka.

"Go on and convince me, why don't you?" Sokka smirked. Azula laughed and nodded.

"Well, then, Hessik, creator of this world… I have my own understanding of life and death, of cruelty and kindness, and I believe we may be better served by enlightening each other further in a more… private capacity. I cannot say for certain that I will be up to your standards… you are a deity, of course. But if this is our final attempt to resolve this matter without violence… then I give myself to you, creator. My body shall be yours to do with as you see fit."

"Fyrelith Krylla…" Sokka said, his voice deep and earnest. "Your body… is a generous offer. Perhaps I shall make, then, an offer of my own: the purpose you have sought, the unsatisfaction you have been ailed by all your life, will be quenched. I shall see to it."

Azula blinked blankly. She eyed Sokka skeptically for a moment, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Um… is this supposed to be some sort of mutual persuasion?" she asked. "Do I need to roll, or…?"

Sokka smiled before shaking his head. Everyone gasped as he spread his arms.

"Hessik… has always wanted to bang Fyrelith Krylla, so no persuasion roll was necessary," he announced: the entire table roared with cheers and laughter now as Azula threw her head back, covering her face with her hands. "And that's where tonight's session ends!"

"What?! Wait, no! You can't just leave it off there!" The Duke groaned, looking at Sokka hopelessly.

"He's right! How do we prepare for next week if we have no idea what's going to happen with them?" Toph asked, huffing.

"Well, you won't prepare much, I suppose," Sokka chuckled. "Let's just say, for the purposes of the game… the whole party gets a long rest now. Fyrelith and Hessik shall be alone for… I suppose, a day and a night in order to ensure she, too, gets a full rest, but…"

"Will she? I wonder if this horny god won't demand too much from her…" Azula sighed, shaking her head dramatically.

"He's a very generous god, he'll let her sleep sometimes. Sometimes," Sokka smirked. Azula chuckled, shaking her head – if she was flustered, she certainly was masking it perfectly through amusement.

Even if the rest of the party protested at first, it was getting late by then, and everyone had to go home. Laughter continued to spread in the group as everyone encouraged Azula to do her best and go all out with her performance once she slept with the dangerous deity they'd come across, and she thanked them for it every time. Little by little, the members of their group took off to their respective homes… yet Azula didn't get going as fast as everyone else. She lagged behind, staring at the minis on the table as Sokka began setting aside all his Dungeon Master tools.

"You have a mini of this god yet?" Azula asked. Sokka smiled and shrugged. "I'm just curious…"

"Want to know if he's Fyrelith's type?" Sokka asked. Azula chuckled. "Not sure what her type is, to be honest. I feel like she went for so many different kinds of characters so far that…"

"Ah, so you don't know for sure? And here I thought the creator god knew everything," Azula smirked. Sokka laughed, shaking his head. "I admit… I didn't see that twist coming. A rather interesting one, too. He's trapped, you said?"

"Oh, yes," Sokka nodded, sagely. "He was a being of seemingly boundless power… but loneliness took hold of him eventually. The idea of creating other living entities came to mind, so he decided to create a world with countless others, people, plants, animals, beasts… all so he could have all the companionship he craved. But the cruelty of mortal life got to him quickly… but he had spent too much of his power in creating this world and lacked the strength to change things. Thus, Hessik has spent hundreds, thousands of years amassing as much power as he can, all be it to become strong enough to break this world apart once more, and to create a new, better one in its stead."

"But then… the crux of the matter is loneliness?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. Sokka smiled and nodded.

"He is a loner, yes. The other deities exist in their own planes, he has no access to them, and they never truly knew of him… they were drawn to mortals, and they're enablers of the sins of mortals, you could say. They encourage them, even… so Hessik is not interested in befriending them," Sokka said, shaking his head. "Anyway… yep, he's lonely and fears no one will ever understand him, but…"

"But now he thinks Fyrelith might?" Azula asked, amused, stepping closer to him. Sokka chuckled, shrugging slightly.

"I admit, I had too much fun with your inappropriate antics at the beginning of the campaign. I don't know if I shut you down too hard when I did…" Sokka said. Azula laughed, shaking her head.

"Oh, please, it was hilarious, don't feel bad about it now," she smiled.

"Either way, it's not like I really wanted you to stop altogether. The whole struggle to see if any characters could resist you was pretty funny," Sokka admitted, smiling fondly at her.

"It was our own personal little war in the middle of the campaign, felt like," Azula said. "Though… I suppose this truly would be the final battle, if so. Is Fyrelith powerful enough to seduce a mighty god?"

"I suppose we'll find out… though we could find out right now," Sokka said. Azula raised her eyebrows. "I… I mean by rolling a performance check! We could very well just leave it for the next session, but I figured it'd be a good idea for me to start building the direction of things for the next session… it's probably going to be the end of the campaign, whether Hessik wins or loses, so…"

"So… you want us to roll a performance check," Azula smiled. "That was it."

"That… was it," Sokka swallowed hard, eyeing her with uncertainty. Azula bit her lip and nodded.

"Very well, then. Very well."

She stepped up to the table, where her dice tray remained untouched. She picked out her favorite twenty-sided dice, and then looked through Sokka's own dice to pick one of his, too: she handed him her own dice, and she took his for herself. Sokka smiled approvingly, stepping up to Azula's cleared dice tray, standing right beside her.

"I suppose you have endless charisma…" Azula said. Sokka chuckled.

"You almost have endless charisma yourself, with a plus six modifier by now…"

"Well, I suppose so," Azula smiled. "Either way… whatever the outcome of our battle may be, you were a worthy opponent and challenger. And if you would have me in your next campaign as well, I shall be delighted to sleep with you constantly through that one, too."

"I shall be even more delighted than you about it, I suspect," Sokka chuckled. Azula smirked proudly at him. "Alright then… moment of truth."

Azula nodded, preparing herself to roll: they stood right before each other, neither one looking at the tray, or the dice… only into each other's eyes.

"Three… two… one…" Sokka counted: Azula smiled as they released their dice at the same time.

Neither one broke the eye contact. Neither one looked at the dice to find out whether this dalliance between their characters had paid off or failed. Sokka swallowed hard, smiling slightly.

"We… should look," he said. Azula smiled and nodded.

"Then why don't you?" she asked.

"Because I'll be really disappointed if I rolled badly," he admitted: Azula laughed, shaking her head.

"Poor godly entity… he wishes to impress a perfectly ordinary woman that badly, does he?" she asked. Sokka huffed.

"Azula… you're beyond extraordinary."

That he hadn't even tried to mask things behind their characters didn't register with him, but by the expression on her face, it did with her: a spark of mischief, and yet of hope as well, lit up in her eyes…

Her hand reached up to fist his shirt: Sokka's hands fell upon her waist by sheer instinct before their lips crashed together in an impulsive, teased, long-awaited kiss.

Her arms locked around his neck, her body leaning fully into his: he didn't lose his grip on her, or his footing, recklessly allowing his hands to caress her flanks. His desperate need for her had only risen constantly, even if he had been perfectly willing not to obey it… but ever since this campaign's preparation had begun, he started to wonder if she was interested too. He had tried to convince himself that it was all in his head… but as he picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips while continuing to kiss him deeply, moaning into each exchange, he was happy to let all his uncertainties fade into nothingness.

Azula didn't go home that night, much as Fyrelith would have spent the night with Hessik, in the campaign: it was easy to imagine that their characters could have had just as much fun as they did, that the feelings of loneliness and lack of purpose could have been swept away so quickly in the wake of so much shared pleasure, laughter and bliss. By morning, they climbed out of bed together and cleaned up, with Sokka handing Azula his bathrobe afterwards while he simply fastened a towel around his waist. She had to attend class later that day, so she would have the chance to enjoy his company at least for a couple more hours – and she intended to do just that.

But before they could eat, before they could reprise their nightly fun too, before they could have any genuine conversations regarding the direction of their relationship, the pair stepped up to the table, where Sokka's half-collected dungeon master's tools still sat… where Azula's dice tray still bore the results of the roll that had finally sent them into bed together.

"We… we really need to take a picture of that," Sokka laughed, running a hand over his loose hair. Azula covered her mouth with a hand, unable to muffle her own chuckles.

"Good thing we have a week left before the next session… because I have a few ideas," Azula said. Sokka raised his eyebrows. "I… think you might appreciate them. That is, as long as it's within the realm of reason in Dungeons and Dragons?"

"Well, if it's anything regarding what our characters did in bed… I'm sure it'll be fine," Sokka snickered. Azula smirked deviously. "But if you mean the direction things will take, going forward…?"

Azula nodded slowly, and Sokka bit his lip.

"I suppose you're not used to having any manner of… co-DM?" Azula asked, smiling slightly.

"I don't think that's exactly common," Sokka admitted, wrapping an arm around her waist. "But I admit, my curiosity has been stoked. What's your plan, huh?"

Azula smirked, hands caressing Sokka's chest again before she kissed him willfully anew. Once they parted, she conveyed her most devious ideas to her new lover.

"Okay… okay. We've been waiting all week… it's time to find out what happened," Aang said, biting his lip once everyone had taken their seats by the table.

"Let's hope the psychic damage was something else this time," Mai sighed, and Azula laughed as she shook her head.

Sokka cleared his throat, and everyone's attention fell to him. He felt rather nervous, of course, even slightly anxious… not so much about the game, but about the fact that nobody at this table had the slightest clue that he and Azula had been a little too enthusiastic about playing out the outcome of the night their characters had shared. Along with that, Azula had spent almost every night with Sokka since the last session, only failing to do so when she had a project to finish for a class, and on one day when Suki and Zuko dropped by for dinner with Sokka – he had asked her if she was ready to reveal their relationship then, but his devious girlfriend had decided that holding back until the next game would be far more impactful.

And so, he wondered what her plan would be. Perhaps she simply wanted to wait until the session was over… or she'd outright try to kiss him in the middle of the fight, taking everyone by surprise once she did.

But that wasn't what he should be focusing on right now. No… his true focus had to be the campaign, and the final battle was about to commence.

"As you recall, you have met Hessik, the god who created your world and now spreads chaos and catastrophes across it," Sokka said. "After claiming to be dismissive of violence and the way mortals seek to destroy each other for advancement and greed, Fyrelith, your party's sorcerer, tried to persuade and reach an understanding with Hessik. He took an interest in her… he had an interest in her all along, in fact. Thus, Fyrelith propositioned Hessik, and Hessik propositioned Fyrelith right back. This is where we left off…"

"And?!" The Duke huffed, eagerly. "Did you kill him in bed, Azula?!"

"Pfft. How uncivilized of you to say something like that," Azula said, shaking her head haughtily. Sokka laughed.

"The rest of you wait for one full day, getting proper rest after your latest, complicated adventures to reach Hessik's dwelling. If you wish to do anything before…"

"No, no, no, move forward now!" Zuko said, grimacing.

"Are you so eager because you're worried that he might have killed me? Ah, brother! So concerned for my fate… I'm truly touched," Azula sighed dramatically. Zuko scoffed.

"I'm not your brother in the game, and I just really want to get to finding out whatever the hell happened! You've kept us on edge for a week, Sokka!"

"And I will keep you there longer unless all of you agree that you don't want to prepare traps or plan ambushes or… anything, really. No preparations? None?" Sokka asked.

The others exchanged glances before smiling somewhat innocently at him.

"We would like to think that Fyrelith will succeed," Aang said, firmly.

"And that we can persuade Hessik not to destroy the world. I mean… technically, there's no amount of preparation that can help us kill a god, is there?" Katara asked.

Sokka blinked blankly before shrugging.

"Okay, then. Suit yourselves…"

"Wait, what does that mean?!"

"Sokka…!"

He laughed, and in the end, he gave the others time to plan strategic moves in case something failed: about thirty minutes later, all their impulsive plans were finished, and it was time to reveal the outcome of Hessik and Fyrelith's tryst.

"You see Fyrelith walking back to where you are… Hessik stands behind her," Sokka said. Azula cleared her throat.

"Worth mentioning… that Fyrelith's walking kind of funny," she said: the table split between groaning and laughing at her clarification. Sokka chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, he's a god! Be realistic here, that she's still standing is quite an impressive feat already…"

"Let's just say Hessik is a very generous lover and ensured to boost your health with his powers if you needed it," Sokka chuckled. Azula smiled warmly at him.

"How very nice of him," she said. Sokka let out a deep breath before raising a hand in her direction.

"So… Fyrelith. What would you like to do?"

Azula breathed deeply, turning towards the rest of the party. They eyed her expectantly as she smiled slowly.

"Guys… I think I'm in love."

"WHAT?!"

Zuko's voice rose above the gasps and the snorts by the others as Azula giggled in a most foolish way while in character as Fyrelith. The others eyed Sokka warily as he shrugged in their direction.

"I mean, he's just so good in bed. Like, you have no idea how good!" Azula sighed happily, running a hand over her hair. "The places he took me… I'd never thought that was possible! So, well…"

"Fyrelith… Fyrelith," Zuko growled, eyeing her warily. "That's all fine and good… but you're saying he was as happy with you as you were with him? T-that… he's satisfied and thinks mortal lives aren't that despicable because you, well…"

"Because she's great in bed!" Jet announced. Azula laughed and shrugged, glancing at Sokka.

"Well, I don't know. What do you have to say about my prowess, Hessik?"

Sokka hummed, eyeing her with narrow eyes.

"She… is the most unique, special being this world has ever created. Perhaps the cruelty and horrors of this world were not without value, if they were necessary for her existence."

A happy gasp spread in the group as Azula smiled warmly at him: she reached out to clasp Sokka's hand, and he didn't reject her touch at all. They exchanged a tender gaze, their smiles as dreamy as could be…

"And that's why I shall keep her with me, once I destroy everything else."

Sokka's conclusion startled everyone. Their jaws dropped. All their excitement faded when the unexpected revelation hit them at once.

"Woah… woah. What's that supposed to mean?!" Zuko huffed.

"I mean, we are getting a fight, aren't we?" Toph smirked. "That's enough for me!"

"But… wait a minute. Wait a second," Katara said, staring at Azula pointedly: she was still holding hands with Sokka. "If you're going to destroy the world anyhow, just, not her… does that mean…?"

"Well, you see…" Sokka sighed, gazing at Azula with heartfelt affection. Azula let out a soft laugh. "We've had a whole day to discuss matters, and to reach a conclusion. Multiple conclusions, in a sense, but still…"

"Ew," Zuko grimaced. Azula laughed and shrugged.

"He is just… quite persuasive," Azula admitted. "And I mean, he has a point, so…"

"What?! He doesn't have a point!" Aang gasped, horrified. "Azula…!"

"But he does, though! He wanted to make a much kinder world than what turned out to be the case, he's terribly lonely and he needs a companion, I'm perfectly willing, and…"

"And this means we're all going to die?!" exclaimed Ty Lee. Azula raised a hand.

"All of you, yes. Not me, though," she said. Their jaws dropped until the Duke slammed a fist on the table.

"I said not to trust the tiefling since the first session…!"

"Fyrelith, please be reasonable!" Katara said.

"You're just going to stand aside while he destroys us?!" Suki asked. Azula blinked blankly.

"Well… no," Azula said, with a shrug. "I'm going to help him."

Another group gasp shook the room: the betrayal took them by surprise to such an extent that Sokka couldn't even hold back a cackle of evil laughter, one that didn't suit his character all that well, but that he indulged in all the same.

"You two… how the hell is this happening?!" Zuko huffed, glaring at them. "And I mean, out of character: what the hell was your preparation session for this evening supposed to be? I thought you'd sort out…!"

"Well, we did sort out what happened during our happy day together, evidently," Azula chuckled. "But you see…"

Sokka swallowed hard as he pulled up his smartphone: he sent a message to their group chat, and everyone opened the picture attached to it…

Two natural twenties, one in Sokka's dice, one in Azula's.

"What's… what's this roll?" asked Suki, with an awkward smile.

"Performance check, of course. If his roll had been any lower, Fyrelith would have definitely required another persuasion roll on his part in order to join him in his quest…" Azula said, with a dramatic sigh. "And if hers had been any lower, he would have decided against recruiting her permanently. As it happens…"

"This outcome is simply the mandate of the dice," Sokka smiled, with a shrug as everyone gaped at them in horror. "I know, it's shocking even for me, but…"

"Oh, you pair of assholes," Zuko said, shaking his head and cracking his knuckles. "Well, fine, then! We'll kill the both of you, and we'll save the world!"

"Yeah!"

A chorus of cheers and agreement rang in the room as the party took to planning their strategy to defeat Azula and Sokka. Those two only laughed, chatting amicably and quietly while holding hands only for another moment before focusing fully on the battle…

A battle of which the outcome was nothing like what Zuko had hoped it would be.

"For the next campaign…" Sokka announced, five hours later, as everyone sat in utter shock, frozen at the table. "I advise that someone plays a cleric."

Azula snorted and laughed, covering her face with her hands at the horrified faces of their friends. They weren't quite tearful, but they certainly were affronted by the multitude of minis on the board… minis that had been tilted down every time one of them was out of combat. The first to fall was Mai. The second, Jet. The Duke had followed, and then Zuko. Katara, Suki and Aang had fallen to an area-of-effect spell, and Toph had been the very last one left, but even with her barbarian strength and endurance, she failed to counter the godly resistances and legendary actions of Hessik, paired with the remarkable power of Fyrelith, the sorceress who took flight with her brand-new draconic wings, too.

"You frigging… you TPK'd us. You did," Zuko said, with a dangerous smile.

"What does that mean?" Katara said, her voice small.

"Total Party Kill," The Duke and Aang recited together. Suki dropped her head in her hands, Ty Lee's jaw dropped, Mai grimaced, Jet scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and Sokka sighed happily.

"Well, then! That was great. The world shall be torn apart, rebuilt into something different…"

Cries of protest immediately took off after his announcement as everyone took to lashing out at him for the outcome of the game – frankly, had the dice been any less favorable, it could have been a victory for the party, but luck was not on their side, much as Azula wasn't.

"Calm down, calm down," Sokka chuckled, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "We can do another campaign, you can even reuse the characters and we'll have other adventures this time. Oh, I'm sorry it ended up as badly as it did, but it was kind of hilarious…"

"You're a shithead, that's what you are," Toph growled. "I was having a blast! And I'm not going to play a cleric! Katara, you do it!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Oh, unreal. They never learn, do they?" Azula said, smiling at Sokka. "Perhaps I should be the DM next time, and you should be the team cleric so they stop being so ridiculous…"

"Wait, what? No! You'd be a sadistic DM, way worse than Sokka!" Zuko huffed, shaking his head. "Not a chance, Azula!"

"Well, he doesn't have a point and yet he kind of does," Sokka said, smiling at Azula. "You've always been telling me I ought to try being a player, and while I wouldn't mind playing with you as the DM…"

"Would be more fun for us to romance each other as players next time? Hmm… yes, that is a good point," she said, nodding as Sokka smiled, face flushing slightly at her not-so-subtle declaration.

"Romance each other? What, you'll do this madness again?" Zuko growled, grimacing. "You won't get away with playing some god-like character in a proper campaign, Sokka, you hear me?"

"He doesn't have to do that to capture my future character's interest," Azula stated, proudly. "In fact? We should play an already-married couple. That would be unusual."

"Oh? Bold, but�� heh. That's an interesting thought," Sokka chuckled: everyone else at the table eyed them with confusion by then.

"Wait, but… why?" Aang asked, with an awkward smile as he drank some water. "Isn't the fun of in-game romance to… play out the romance?"

"Oh, no. Performance rolls to find out if the sex was good or terrible is where the real fun is at," Azula declared, and Aang nearly snorted his drink through his nose. "Good thing it's not up to dice in real life, isn't it?"

"Heh, yeah, it sure… isn't," Katara said, as Azula's words sank in. As the strangeness in her behavior with Sokka also sank in.

Azula smiled proudly at Sokka, who eyed her with a blush and a much shyer grin. The rest of the group at the table gauged the situation slowly, gradually, until…

"You fucks were actually boning in real life too, weren't you?"

Toph's blunt declaration actually got a reaction from them in the form of a spree of guilty laughter: shy in Sokka's case, much bolder and open in Azula's. The Duke blushed, covering his mouth with a hand while Jet groaned, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Guess I had no chance after all, did I?" he said, with a sad smile.

"You actually got away with it?" Mai blurted out, staring at Azula judgmentally. "Well, good for you. Spent ages pining over him and…"

"Mai!" Azula huffed.

"Wait, ages?! You too?!" Sokka gasped, happily. "You didn't tell me that!"

"Oh, she sure did!" Ty Lee confirmed, with giggles. "I mean, I'm still mad that my character died, but oh my gosh, I'm so glad! You two are finally a thing! Yes!"

"Well, Sokka's not going to DM next time for sure! He's just going to keep favoring her because she got into his pants!" Toph huffed, shaking her head dismissively.

"I'm not that biased…! Well, okay, maybe I am," Sokka admitted, with a guilty smile.

"Katara?" Aang asked, smiling awkward at the frozen young woman. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… speechless. I might… stop being speechless eventually. But for now, I'm just… speechless," was her eloquent response, to which everyone laughed too.

"Well, way to go, Azula. I suppose, if all of us had to die, at least it was for a good cause," Suki smiled at her sister-in-law, who smiled and nodded in gratitude for her words.

Naturally, though, Zuko was the last one to react. He had further warning than most everyone at the table, he had already been confronted by the possibility before, and yet he stared at Sokka and Azula, eyes wide before saying:

"My best friend and my sister?"

The whole table erupted in laughter yet again, and if any hard feelings remained after the full party kill from earlier, they seemed to have been swept away in the wake of the revelation of the relationship between Azula and Sokka. The whole group still had much to talk about, much to laugh about, and those two, in particular, had lots of things to discuss regarding their relationship still… and also regarding their next campaign: as he was experienced enough with the game, Aang offered to be the next Dungeon Master. Sokka continued to question his own ability to be a good player, but just one glance at Azula and her devious but heartwarming smiles encouraged him to go forward and live out his own story in the flesh, rather than solely building one for the others: whether in a campaign of Dungeons and Dragons, or in real life, Sokka was ready to indulge in wild, fun adventures beyond his reckoning, adventures he'd be delighted to share with the woman he had fallen in love with.

A/N:

Shoutout to PurplePlatypusBear21 for brainstorming this one with me like... a year ago or however long it was, haha! Thank you so much for encouraging me to write this wild comedy D&D ride!

[yandere-sins]

Hello friend!❤️ I absolutely adore your Miya Twins works. Every time you post something for one of them or both of them I’m so elated and excited to read what you’ve come up with! If your requests are open (your bio says they are) I was wondering if you could write something where the reader almost successfully escapes or calls for help? What are the twins reactions? What would they do? I love how you write their dynamic and would love to see this idea explored! If you don’t want to write for both of them, maybe Atsumu’s perspective? Personally he is my favorite twin! I hope you are well thank you❤️

Hey friendo! ♥ We actually talked about escaping them before, so this might be interesting for you! Thanks for requesting, I hope this is close to what you wanted! I needed a reason to just make it ‘almost’ ^^’

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Keep it down, 'Tsumu."

His brother's warning only frustrated Atsumu more, but he grit his teeth in response, the last remnants of his voice fading through the hallway of the apartment complex. Maybe he had been a little loud as he tried to voice his anger, frustration, and fear, but how else was he supposed to come to terms with this situation? Not only had their darling found a way to crack the lock on the front door open, no, they also successfully slipped out of his grasp and outran him in the moment of surprise - HIM, a professional athlete.

It was almost too bad that they missed a step on the second to last staircase, making them fall right into the opposing wall. The twins' screams as they heard the maddening crack when their head hit the cement must have echoed throughout the whole house. Luckily, the twins weren't the only shady people renting an apartment here, and most were empty anyway. No one came to see what the ruckus was all about.

Their darling was anything but weightless as they were slumped against his back, Atsumu giving them a piggyback ride back to their home. Luckily, his muscles were good enough to easily carry them around, but taking three staircases with an extra person on his back wasn't the most comfortable task even for him.

"It's your responsibility. You let them get away," had been Osamu's reasoning as to why they wouldn't alternate carrying them. "Asshole," Atsumu grumbled, Osamu giving him a glare back over his shoulder. He knew just as well that Atsumu wasn't lashing out at him, both of them going through the same state of shock and frustration. But now, with the blood of their darling's head wound dripping onto Atsumu's shirt, they also had their hands full with worrying.

"Stop making a scene. It could be worse," Osamu reminded him, but despite the harsh words, Atsumu felt the same kind of relief. At least they didn't make it out. But at what price?

"Ya think they'll recover from that?" Atsumu asked quietly as Osamu opened the door for him, both of them frowning at the busted door lock. It was crazy to think that their sweet, docile darling was able to do such a thing. However, when their darling realized that their plan failed to pick the lock, they must have panicked so much they ended up opening it this way. "From their failed escape? Probably. That wound is a different thing."

Both of them were tense as Osamu spoke out what they wished didn't have to be voiced. They were no doctors. They could patch up a cut or put ointment on a bruise, but if anything was wrong inside of their brain, they'd be screwed. Bringing them to a hospital was out of the question. Less their darling might be taken away from them. Atsumu didn't even want to start thinking about all the people that would be all over his sweetheart, touching and caring for them while he couldn't. A stupid moment to get jealous, but who could blame him?

"Put them down in their room; it's the safest spot at the moment. Close the door just in case," Osamu instructed, opening the door for Atsumu before disappearing into his own bedroom. "Bring tissues!" Atsumu called after him as he carried their darling inside, trying to slide them off his back as gently as possible and laying them on their bed. His t-shirt was already ruined as he pulled it off, gently dabbing the fabric against the wound on their forehead, waiting for his brother to bring some bandages and ointment. "Shit," he mumbled, biting his own lip in frustration.

The person he was most frustrated with was himself. Yes, he knew about what kind of power balance reigned in their house. Yes, he knew that not all he did to his darling was in their best interest. But he didn't want it to end... like this. That's not what he wanted. Pressing the shirt to their wound, he lifted their hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips. They had done something bad. Something really, really bad. But at the same time, they were so vulnerable, so dependant, and they didn't even know it. They shouldn’t have run from them, it was their darling’s fault in the first place. But how could he be mad at them when they were in this heartbreaking state? Punishment was nothing he could even think about in that moment. What if they didn’t wake up again? Even with the blood dripping from their face, they were the most wonderful person he knew, and Atsumu feared to have told them that less than he should have when he had the chance.

"Move." Giving him an ungentle kick in the waist, Osamu made Atsumu free up the space directly next to their darling's head. He wished he could have his brother's place, but Osamu was just a bit better when it came to fixing stuff. So maybe, he could fix this too?

Pushing away Atsumu and his shirt, Osamu leaned over their darling, checking again if they were still breathing before taking a closer look at the wound. "Ya know how to do stitches?" Osamu mumbled as he looked at it from every side possible. "Are you crazy?" Atsumu hissed back. "Neither of us can do that!"

"And your better idea is...?"

Fuck. His stomach twisted and churned as Atsumu thought about this.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You do it," Atsumu spoke monotonously. Trying to hide his fear and the shaking hands in his lap.

"Your hands are more steady," Osamu hissed back at him, not noticing that they currently were out of control, only trusting logic in this situation.

"Are you kidding?" Atsumu barked, ready to hit his brother if not for both of Osamu's hands being around their darling's face to steady it.

"One of us has to, and it ain't me! I just cook! You have finger coordination!"

"But..." Atsumu's voice cracked, his eyes falling onto their darling's almost peaceful face if not for the bloody mess at the side of their forehead. Osamu sighed. He pulled his hands away, fingers covered in red smears as he brushed back his hair. "They're bleeding, 'Tsumu," he whispered, and Atsumu heard the same damn fear in his brother's voice that he was fighting with. The struggle, the uncertainty. Fear of losing their darling and guilt of letting it come so far. Osamu had been farther away from their darling than Atsumu, but he was blaming himself just as much. "What do we do?" Osamu's voice was strained with the burden of a person's life on his shoulders as well.

That's right. Atsumu wasn't the only one hurting.

"Then the hospital--" Osamu sighed, catching his composure as quickly as possible, or he might have started to cry. Instead, he pulled out his phone. He hesitated before his lock screen flashed up, ready to call the emergency hotline. By now, time was of the essence.

"No," Atsumu decided right as his eyes caught the light coming from the display. "I'll do it," he stated, determined with an unknown strength.

"I will," he emphasized again, this time, trying to hide the slight shake of uncertainty in his voice. All their work, all this time they put into keeping their darling with them - it couldn't be in vain. Their love was not so shallow. "But..." Osamu mumbled, unsure if this was the right decision.

"I'm the older twin. Trust me."

"Debatable..." Osamu mumbled, glancing back at their hurting darling. "But I trust you."

It all felt unreal. Their first aid kit wasn't just a normal, store-bought one as Atsumu always thought. Somehow, Osamu seemed to have predicted there could have been worse wounds to befall them, owning everything they could need. Chaos reigned in Atsumu's head as he watched one video after another of how to stitch wounds on Osamu's phone while washing his hands maniacally as if to wash off the sins crawling over his skin. The time was pressuring him. There was so much to note, he was barely able to remember the first step once he was done watching it. Avoiding blood poisoning seemed to be the slightest problem when he couldn't even remember how to close a stitch.

Both of them suited up for the occasion, Osamu silently bringing a new shirt into the bath before washing his hands next to his brother. "We said we'd do it together when we brought them here," he reminded Atsumu as he helped him into the gloves. "You're not alone in this."

"I know," Atsumu sighed. "We always did it together, but I have to do this alone. For them. For us."

"I'm always right behind you," Osamu encouraged Atsumu as they stepped up to their darling. A moment of silent prayers passed as they looked down at the biggest mistake of their life. Their darling.

"Let's get it over with," Atsumu mumbled. There was something in his brother's eyes that Osamu had never seen before. He could only recognize it as a point of no return. A breaking point. And yet, Osamu handed the needle to his brother, who immediately pointed it to where he wanted it to go. However, before he could stick it in, he hesitated, his will faltering instantly. What if he'd mess it up? What if he couldn't do it? They'd die. Either way, they'd die.

"On three," Osamu caught his brother, who was falling into despair. Atsumu had to do it. There was no turning back, they had long ignored the right things, and now they were too deep in to go back. He'd prove his love once and for all. Atsumu breathed in.

"Deep breath. One. Two..."

Atsumu breathed out.

"Three."

[ladyartemesia]

The Secret

◐ PART IV of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 3600

Author’s Note: This update literally made me sob because I edited it and formatted it and it just disappeared when I posted. I seriously felt my heart drop because it took so long to format... ANYWAYS I wonder if anyone guessed the secret.

”You can’t do this, Luna ... Come back inside.”

Your hand tightened on the doorknob.

“I was just going out for some air-”

Jin shook his head, letting his lanky frame collapse onto the overstuffed chair by the fireplace. 

“And after the air... then what?”

Your terse silence was confirmation enough. 

He sighed heavily, hating himself a little for what he had to do. 

“You cannot go to him. They’ll smell you on his skin and it could cost him... dearly.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

“I just wanted to see him...,” you whispered. “I wanted to talk to him just once before-”

A sob bubbled up in your throat and your hand flew up to cover it. 

The dawn would come in two hours. 

And then Park Jimin would be gone. 

Jin’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and you fell against him hopelessly. 

“They’re going to make me watch, Jin-ah. I-I have to watch him-”

Bitter tears overtook you, wracking your body with the violence of your despair. 

“I know...,” he murmured softly into your hair, “I know.” 

“Do you think he’ll really show up?”

The chief elder glared fiercely at the young man who dared voice such a question. 

The entire pack had jammed themselves into the clearing where the challenge was taking place and despite the solemnity of the occasion, the atmosphere buzzed with barely contained speculation. 

“Park Jimin was chosen by the goddess herself to be her champion or to be the divine test of her champion. Have some respect,” he hissed. 

The young pup had the decency to look abashed, but the chief elder was already ignoring him in favor of the newest arrival... 

A Luna wore only three ceremonial colors at any given time. 

Green for celebration and harvest was worn in times of laughter and gaiety. 

Blue for mourning and peaceful resolve was worn in times of trial and hardship. 

Red for passion and vengeance was worn in times of war and signified the sacred bonds that wove the pack together. 

Your mother laid out a blue cloak as it was the color chosen by every Luna who had ever faced down a provocatione ritual.

But you arrived in sumptuous Red. 

It was a stunning act of defiance, a wordless declaration of your fury. You were here to obey the goddess, but in a crimson cloak you would not embrace this challenge with peaceful resolve. 

An attack upon your mate, even under these circumstances, was an attack upon you. 

You had come dressed for war. 

Jimin heard the gasps echo around his meditation cell.  

He and Namjoon arrived at the sacred circle a full hour before dawn and sequestered themselves in the small, free-standing hovels on opposing sides of the the site. 

The tiny pods were spaces for an individual to commune with the goddess and center themselves before engaging in the typically life-altering events that brought them there. 

Sometimes it was marriage or celebration, sometimes it was acceptance to one of the guilds or a promotion to a higher rank within your family’s clan...

Today it was life and death and the future of the pack that weighed upon the combatants’ shoulders. 

The sudden swell of movement and sound pulled Jimin from his meditative state. 

What happened? 

He got his answer soon after an elder came to escort him into the circle. 

It was you. 

Your hands and feet were bound to the ornately carved chair they had seated you in. This was a typical precaution because it was natural for a wolf to defend their mate if they were in danger and the restraints kept the Luna from doing so. 

The pain in your gaze was agonizing, but in red, flowing down from your shoulders with fiery obstinance, you were every inch the warrior queen. 

Yet it was not your rebellious cloak or even your incredible beauty that caused his heart to pound and stutter in glorious shock...

It was the familiar praesidium bracelet wrapped around your wrist; an intimate message of devotion that he and he alone would understand. 

Pride and possessiveness roared to life in Jimin’s chest. 

She’s mine.

“You look... surprisingly calm.”

Taehyung jerked guiltily. 

“What? Me? I don’t know anything - I mean I’m not calm - I’m frantic. I - I don’t even understand the question.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised right up into his hairline. 

“Taehyung-ah? Did you put those special mushrooms in your broth this morning? You’re acting a bit strange-”

“No,” Taehyung’s voice cracked. “This is me - this is totally normal me. I’m not - there were no mushrooms-” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “So - uh - how’s Yoonji?”

“Oh my go- really?!” 

The chief elder began to recite his speech, reminding the pack of the profound significance this moment carried...

But Yunli could barely hear his words over the ringing in her ears. Her gaze fixed on Namjoon from the moment the elder brought him forward... yet he had not glanced toward her once. 

He looked so strong and confident. 

So capable of victory. 

A faint whimper of abject sorrow worked its way passed her lips and Namjoon’s eyes flew to her instantly. 

As if he had always known exactly where she was. 

Longing split his features for a fraction of a second. 

Then his gaze shuttered again and Yunli’s wolf howled in silent, mournful agony. 

Anticipation bore down upon the assembly as the chief elder uttered the last few sentences with reluctant finality. 

The moment had come.  

Both alphas stepped into the circle. 

You began to tug frantically - futilely - against the bonds. Jin’s hand gripped yours as a tear slipped heedlessly down his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered - to you - to Yunli - to Jimin -

To himself. 

Then his claws lengthened to a deadly point and he tore forward with a chilling snarl. 

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent. 

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and- 

———◐———

Last Night...

———◐———

“Wait - WHAT?!”

“It was... me. I broke the table.”

Taehyung drew back slowly. His eyebrows furrowed in profound confusion. 

“With what? A jackhammer!?”

Jimin tilted his head in amusement. 

“Hammerfist strike... actually.” He shrugged. “I lost my temper.”

“You - You lost your-“ Tae began shaking his head rapidly. “Is it a spell of some sort?! Goddess you know better than to get tangled up with witches! You let them give you a band aid and then they show up ten years later asking for your firstborn!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. 

“Of course not! No... it’s...” he bit his lip. “You remember that time I came to your house a little too early and... Yoonji had you tied to a bed...”

Tae paled. 

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

“And I haven’t - spoken of it - especially since Yoongi still thinks his precious baby cousin is unaware of big bad boy wolves and if he found out you were corrupting her-”

“Wait. You think I was corrupting her?!“

“The point is... it’s a secret. And I know you have your reasons for keeping it that way so... I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to tell you...”

———◐———

Fourteen Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin’s hands fidgeted nervously over the flyer that the human boy offered him. 

“But I’m only in Seoul for the summer.”

Just long enough to miss Alpha Camp entirely. 

“That’s perfect because it’s only a summer program. Seriously, you were so fast catching that jar I knocked over. Your reflexes are amazing and it looks like you’ve got the perfect build for it too.” He tapped the flyer for emphasis. “Think about it.”

No one had ever told Park Jimin that he would be good at anything like this. In fact most people told him he needed to be better...

Bigger. 

Stronger. 

His eyes traveled over the large letters printed at the top of the brochure. 

“Taekwondo...”

——◐——

“...so thank you all again for signing up and attending the orientation. I will see you tomorrow for our first class.”

A strange sense of anticipation hummed through Jimin as he gathered his coat. He was finally doing something for himself; something that had nothing to do with being an alpha-

“You’re a wolf, aren’t you...”

The young instructor who gave the initial demonstration and spoke for most of the orientation stood behind him with his arms crossed.

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock. 

“How did you know?”

The stranger tapped his nose. 

“My grandfather had a human mate and his pack exiled him for it. I’m mostly human, but this nose can pick up another wolf’s scent just as well as yours.”

Modern packs didn’t exile wolves with human mates anymore, but fifty years ago the practice was still unfortunately common. 

“I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

The young man smiled. 

“He lived a long happy life with his mate and his family. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He stretched out his hand. “Lee Taemin.”

“Park Jimin.”

They shook firmly, and Taemin continued to examine him with unconcealed interest. 

“Tell me, Park Jimin, what’s an alpha wolf doing all the way out in Seoul? The only pack around here married their last child into one of the mountain nations years ago.”

“That was my mother, actually... I’m here visiting my grandmother.”

Taemin tilted his head curiously. 

“I’ve never known wolves to be interested in human martial arts. You lot prefer to fight shifted... In fact, I doubt a mountain wolf could even throw a punch,” he snorted, “not that they’d need to with those fangs.”

Jimin’s shoulders fell a little. 

“So... you don’t think I’ll be good at it.”

“On the contrary, I think you could be incredible.”

The young wolf’s face brightened immediately. 

“Really?! Even if I’m not as strong as other wolves?”

“Taekwondo isn’t about strength. It’s about speed. Master the speed and the strength will follow.”

———◐———

“Relax your body. Focus your energy.”

Jimin drew in a deep breath as he moved  through the pattern Taemin taught him. 

“The power and speed of your wolf is constant, but most wolves do not bother channeling it in human form. Concentrate on your wolf and bring that power into your strike.” 

His hand came down on the thin press wood and-

It hurt. A lot. 

Taemin chuckled as Jimin cussed and swore, cradling his tender fist grouchily. 

“You’ll get it. Just keep practicing.”

“Are you sure I’ll be able to break the boards one day?”

The boy’s face was so round and adorably hopeful. Taemin nodded confidently and offered him some ice. 

“A human with training can break boards, but a wolf who harnessed his natural speed and strength could break much more than that.” 

———◐———

Twelve Years Ago...

———◐———

“You’ve improved a great deal since last summer. Were you finally able to find a teacher near your pack?”

“Yes - but... she’s not as good as you.”

Finding a local Taekwondo teacher had been the easy part. 

Constantly making up excuses to explain his habitual disappearances... 

That was trickier. 

His mother thought he was hunting with Taehyung, Taehyung thought he was sniffing around some human girl and needed a buddy to cover his tracks. 

Sneaking away to practice wasn’t too difficult, but he panicked when Yoongi caught him moving through forms in the woods once and pretended to be doing an interpretive dance. 

With no music.

Yoongi had looked at him a little funny since then. 

Taemin grinned. “Of course she’s not as good as me. I’m the best. Now take position and let’s see if you can finally land this kick.”

———◐———

Ten Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin glared at the thick oak board Taemin sent him home with this year. 

“It’s a 4x6 solid oak plank. I want you to break it before the winter solstice.”

He snorted, positioning the board between the makeshift vices he fashioned to hold it in place. 

“Sure, I’ll just get right on that.”

“...Who are you talking to?”

Jimin groaned internally.

Of course. 

“Hey guys,” he turned to greet Jungkook and Hoseok brightly (while completely ignoring the question). “Where - where are you two headed today?”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with excitement. 

“One of the elders is going to teach us how to build traps! He invited all the unmated alphas to go with him past the boundary lines to test whatever we make!”

A familiar embarrassment settled heavily in Jimin stomach. 

“Oh... I uh... I didn’t hear that.”

“I’m sure it was just a mistake that they didn’t call for you,” Hoseok rushed to reassure him. “You could come with us. I don’t think the elder would mind.”

The older boy’s gaze was filled with discomfort... and pity. 

Jimin cleared his throat and forced up a sunny smile. 

“No that’s fine - I have work to do anyways so...”

Jungkook nodded quickly, desperate to escape the unexpectedly awkward conversation. 

“Have fun!” he shouted, already beginning to jog away. 

Jimin watched quietly as their figures grew smaller, waiting till their clumsy steps no longer disturbed the stillness around him. 

He should be used to it by now... 

The passive rejection. 

It shouldn’t bother him anymore. There was no malicious intent... just casual dismissal again and again and again-

An angry roar tore past his lips as he brought his hand down on the board. 

It cracked in half. 

———◐———

Eight Years Ago...

———◐———

“It’s strange but - I feel like the better I become at this, the stronger my wolf is.”

“That isn’t strange at all. You and your wolf are two halves of a whole. The more you balance your energy, the more your strengths can be shared. Now - stop stalling and get to it.”

Jimin eyed Taemin’s latest idea with a reluctant groan.

“None of the other students have to break cinder block.”

“None of the other students are wolves. Besides, it’s been 6 years, you’ve broken stacks of boards. It’s time for a real challenge.”

“I’m lucky I haven’t broken a bone,” Jimin mumbled irritably. 

He did that day, but it was healed in a week and he broke his first cinderblock a month later.

———◐———

Five Years Ago...

———◐———

“Remember, timing is everything. Never let your opponent see what you’re going to do.”

“How many times do you think I’ve heard that over the last ten years?”

“Not enough, clearly. You’re still telegraphing with that right foot.”

Jimin’s left hand shot out and connected with Taemin’s jaw.

“Am I?”

Taemin blinked up at him from the floor. 

“Ok. I admit. That was pretty impressive.”

———◐———

Three Years Ago...

———◐———

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I was looking for Jin.”

Jimin scrambled to his feet, dumping the pile of pebbles he collected (for his mother’s garden) noisily to the ground.

“Luna...”

He took a discreet step backward as your gaze scanned the area in frustration. 

“You haven’t seen my cousin, have you?”

Jimin gulped. 

He had seen Kim Seokjin - leading a curvy beta girl (nose first no doubt) in the direction of the old wading pool. It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to laugh out loud each time Jin bashfully declared that he was a ‘good boy’ and to ‘be gentle with him,’ - after all, he’d given the same speech to two other she-wolves last week. 

Best not to scar her for life. Some things cannot be unseen.

His mind darted briefly to the scene he’d walked into at Taehyung’s house yesterday.

“I have no idea where Seokjin is, Luna.”

You sighed, gnawing absently at your lip while you considered his words, and Jimin felt a familiar hint of futile longing whisper through him. 

He’d never been so close to you, and now that he was, his wolf was making all sorts of insane suggestions to keep you near. 

Do a backflip. Climb a tree. Build her a house. 

Jimin bent quickly to gather his scattered stones, ashamed at the direction of his thoughts. 

You were so incredibly beautiful...

It was almost enough to make him forget that he would only ever be Park Jimin.  

He couldn’t blame the others for fighting and fawning over your attention like they did. You were the moon and every man around you was drawn in like the tide. 

“Today is my seventeenth birthday, you know.”

Jimin looked up to discover that you had moved much closer and were now looking down at him expectantly. 

He blinked. Twice. 

“I - yes. I did know.”

The entire pack was celebrating. He’d have to be comatose not to know.

“Should I save you a dance, Park Jimin?”

Up until that exact second, Jimin would have bet his life savings that you did not know his name. 

Yet here you were - so very close to him - gazing down into his eyes almost shyly.

He nodded because he couldn’t think of a single reason not to give you anything you wanted. And when you smiled so brilliantly -  he almost believed that you truly wanted to dance with him...

Almost. 

He never went to your party. 

He never danced with you.

Not that day. Not ever.

Because deep down he suspected that if he held you in his arms - even once - he would never truly let go. 

He was sure you wouldn’t notice his absence...  You wouldn’t remember talking to him by the time the evening rolled around. 

He never saw you search the crowds for his face right up until the midnight bell. 

He never saw you turn down dance after dance hoping that the beautiful boy from the forest would finally come and take your hand. 

He was your only wish that birthday. 

But he never knew. 

———◐———

One Year Ago...

———◐———

“I’ve never seen anything like your skill. You’ve long since surpassed me. I’m not sure what more I can teach you,” Taemin smiled, bumping Jimin on the shoulder, “Perhaps you should find a woman and spend a little less time practicing.”

An unwelcome flash of silver eyes and a laugh like sunshine danced through his mind. 

“No. I’m... not really the type wolf girls go for.” 

Taemin snorted. 

“I don’t believe that. Aren’t you an alpha?”

“Yes, but it’s... complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?”

Jimin laughed. 

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Silence settled comfortably between them as they nursed several bottles of soju on his grandmother’s porch. Taemin had charmed the old hellion quite thoroughly and he would often drop by for a visit even when Jimin was back home with his pack.

“So what will you do now?” he asked. “You can’t compete. I can barely withstand sparring with you, and you’d kill a human - even if you landed a blow at half strength.”

Jimin ran his fingers absently through his hair while he pondered his mentor’s words. 

“I learned to fight because I was searching for something that would help me sort out who I was.” He scoffed. “I don’t know that I’m any closer to that goal.”

Taemin shook his head. 

“No. I think you’ve got it all wrong, Park Jimin. No one achieves what you have without knowing who they are. You’ve always been a fighter and some part of you realizes that.” He sighed heavily and finished off the rest of his drink. “Now I think you’re just... waiting.”

“For what?” Jimin chuckled playfully. 

Taemin pulled out another bottle and met his gaze with a knowing grin. 

“Something worth fighting for.”

———◐———

Now...

———◐———

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent. 

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and- 

It was fast. 

So fast it almost seemed like magic. 

One moment the Kim alpha was the barest breath away from a swift and decisive victory-

Then he was crashing backwards onto the dirt. 

Those who watched carefully saw Park Jimin spin into a vicious kick, one that connected solidly with the middle of his opponent’s chest. 

Stunned silence pressed in from every side as Namjoon scrambled back to his feet, his expression wavering wildly between excruciating pain and monumental shock. 

Jimin smiled, letting his razor sharp canines lengthen menacingly as he flowed back into a perfect combat stance. 

“You didn’t think I’d just let you have her, did you?”

Please comment if you would like to be added to the taglist! If you have already asked, you will be tagged automatically in every update. 

Please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter! (*insert puppy face here*) I am so excited to hear what you think of everything that went down in this update and I savor each word of feedback like fine wine. Your theories and commentary have been such a gift. It truly keeps me writing. 

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥You Are Human, And Damn It, You Are An Important One!🔥

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back! It looks like my tags finally decided to sort themselves out so I wanted to (finally) post a new story! I’m still working on requests though, so don’t worry, those are coming soon! I just wanted to post this in the mean time while I edit those and test if my tags are really fixed on one of my originals so that any requested fics will actually be seen later should an error occur. Thank you so much for your continued support and patience, you guys are so amazing! I hope this makes up for my temporary hiatus! This one actually has a bit of a heavier tone to it but I think I’m finally happy with it! Thanks again for the support, and don’t be afraid to talk to me! Shoot me a message or just spew random bullshit and I’ll still respond 😂. Enjoy!

(Warning: themes of non-con & abuse. This is set in a brothel, but there’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned or implied. Just wanted to put it out there! Viewer discretion advised!)

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Gardener” By: Sarah Sparks 🐉

Word Count: ~7k

~~~

It was that time of year. The time of year that Levi hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It was the time of year in which merchants from all around would come down to the Underground City, away from the prying eyes of the Military Police, and sell anything and everything to the nobles who weren’t exactly looking for orthodox materials. The normally filthy, mostly empty streets would be filled with members of the wealthy, dripping in jewelry, cash, and lavish clothing as they paraded around the sorry excuse for a city, boasting of their wealth and privilege as they bought enough food and luxurious goods to feed three times the number of people in the Underground while sharing none of it.

The days were starting to blur together. Levi honestly couldn’t tell if it had been a day, a week, or a month as the drugs in his system continued to work just like the brothel owners wanted them to, rendering him practically inoperative and perfect for use. His head pounded, swimming with confused thoughts. His gaze was unfocused, warped, and his whole body felt suffocatingly hot despite his lack of cover, his legs shifting as his body instinctively searched for a relief he didn’t even want. But that was exactly how they wanted him.

The sound of his door being unlocked made him look up slowly, his eyes taking a few seconds to fully focus on the man standing in the entrance of his room, a wide, malicious grin on his face. Levi couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The man smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, and his unkempt appearance made Levi itch, even when drugged out of his mind.

“Oh, Levi…” the man cooed, making Levi shudder. “I have another customer for you.”

Even though Levi had been through this time and time again, even though he had been trapped in his filthy room since he was caught stealing from a merchant friend of the brothel owner at age twenty, even though the drugs in his system were making his body scream for what this new customer could give him, he still couldn’t help the wave of dread that washed through him, the fear. Levi didn’t fear much, having grown up on the streets of the Underground alone since he was abandoned by Kenny at the age of ten, but this? This he was scared of.

He thought back to the wretched old man that had abandoned him as a small child and wondered what he would think of him now. Would he be disgusted? Unsurprised? Angry? Not that it mattered. Levi knew he would never see him again. But even so, his brain couldn’t help itself from going down those roads, asking questions of “what if?” no matter how many times he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. He was just some bastard thug turned whore in the Underground. Nobody was going to even remember him, let alone care about who he was or who he may be in the future.

Levi was once again brought out of his daze when the pig in the doorway moved to the side, letting a noble woman saunter into the room. She had a wicked grin on her face as she approached him, ignoring the brothel owner as he slammed the door shut behind her, giving them some privacy. She was covered in glittering jewelry, and although the dress she wore was extravagant, it was very tight fitting and low cut, barely considered decent, her large breasts one breath away from spilling out over the top. Her hair was pinned up in a lavish braided style, twisting and coiling tightly, and held together with real gold pins that Levi knew must’ve cost a fortune.

“~Well, hello sexy,” the woman purred as she approached the raven-haired man.

Levi had to force himself not to grimace, even with the effect of the drugs, when she slithered her way over his thighs, her hands reaching up to cup his face. The smell of whatever custard perfume she had on was overwhelming, making his eyes water and his throat close up. Her hands felt clammy from all of the lotions and creams she had slathered over her skin to make it look shinier, making them feel like dead fish rubbing against his cheeks.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask my name?” The woman demanded in a sickly sweet voice, making Levi close his eyes in barely suppressed agony.

“What is your name?” Levi asked in a low voice. He felt the woman preen above him at the sound of his voice, knowing she thought his deep tone was for setting the mood rather than the effect of his despair.

“My name is Lady Clarissa! What’s your name, hmmm?”

“Levi,” He said quietly.

“Oooh, Leevviiii, I like that,” Lady Clarissa practically moaned. “Say, Levi, you were quite expensive. That must mean you're really good at what you do. I can already tell that you fulfill my personal tastes in terms of appearance, so why don’t you convince me of the rest and give me a good time. Don’t make me regret spending my good money on you. Don’t make me punish you.”

Levi gritted his teeth when she ground her hips into him, trying his hardest not to fight back. He knew it would be difficult, the drugs making his movements and mental processes much slower, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was shove her off of him. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Levi reached for her as she leaned down to force her tongue into his mouth.

It was that time of year. The time of year that (Y/N) hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It took everything in her to avoid groaning in annoyance as the people she was expected to call her friends dragged her down into the filthy Underground City for a day of “fun”. (Y/N) would much rather be back at home, reading a book in the library, or relaxing with the horses in the barn, or secretly practicing her sword fighting skills with the guards of their estate. But her father had forced her to go when her friends had shown up at the house, begging for her to come with them. He claimed she needed to get her priorities straight and actually present herself, show the honor and pride that came with being part of the (L/N) family. (Y/N) thought there was very little honor and pride in parading their wealth around like they owned the world, especially in front of people who constantly struggled to survive on a daily basis.

(Y/N) walked slowly down the worn cobblestone streets, suppressing the urge to gag at the sight of other nobles walking around, looking and acting as if they were rulers of the walls. She barely looked at anything, only stopping to occasionally buy food when she noticed the hungry children hanging around, looking for a scrap to steal. She could tell they were wary of her, but she never stopped trying, always offering them the food in some way, even if it meant leaving it in a secluded space for them to find later.

Her friends constantly tried to get her to engage, running up to her with crystal jewelry, silk clothing, and delectable foods, attempting to entice her, only to get pushed away. (Y/N) wanted no part in any of it. Even her attire spoke volumes about how little she wanted to be there. She knew that to the people of the Underground, the dress she wore would be considered something of utmost value, but when compared to the nobles around her, she looked underdressed and plain. She wore nothing more than a subtle red dress covered with a black leather jacket, paired with black combat boots and matching gloves, no jewelry to be found except for the simple white earrings she wore in her lobes.

Her father had been less than pleased with her appearance, but stopped arguing when she announced she was leaving, the lord just happy she had at least agreed to go to the festival. She knew he was disappointed in her, annoyed that she wasn’t like the other noble ladies who loved to flaunt their luxurious lifestyles and bend to the every whim of the lords around them, looking to marry early for money and power. (Y/N) wouldn’t be surprised if the entire reason her father wanted her here was so she could possibly win over the affections of a single lord milling about, one that was rich and influential. It was for that possibility alone that (Y/N) had originally thought to wear something that made her look underdressed, having to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at the prospect of catching some snobby noble’s attention.

“Yeah, her name is (Y/N)! She’s the one right over there, I think she could use a good time.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up when she heard her name, her eyes shooting over to where her friends were standing in a group in front of a large building. All of them were looking at her, covering their faces with their hands to hide their giggles. Dread filled her to the brim when she saw the sign in front of the building, her face paling in horror.

“That one, eh? I think we can arrange something like that,” the brothel owner said, a smug smile on his lips as he stared at her, his grin only widening as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “Don’t worry, I’ve got one in particular that could give you a good ride. He’s expensive since he’s my most popular, but he’s worth it.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, her cheeks on fire as her brain fought to think of something, anything to get her out of this situation. She didn’t want to fuck some random stranger for no reason, but she especially didn’t want to have sex in a brothel. She found them vulgar, repulsive, and horrible. The way they treated their “workers” was appalling. Just as the words finally reached the tip of her tongue, one of the girls she had come to the festival with cut off her impending argument.

“Damn, I’m jealous! If he’s that good I’m almost tempted to take him myself. But she needs this. She hasn’t loosened up the entire time we’ve been here and I think this might help. She’ll take him.”

The greasy man smiled and wrote her name down, happily accepting the roll of cash her friend handed him before getting up, supposedly to let the man know that he had another customer on the way. (Y/N) tried to escape when she could, but her friends rushed up and caught her before she could slip into the shadows, dragging her over to the brothel and shoving her towards an open door where the brothel owner stood, a creepy smile still plastered on his face.

“Guys! I don’t want this!” (Y/N) whispered frantically as she was dragged towards her doom.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it or not, you need it!” One of her friends said with a laugh. “Besides, you’re going to have a fun time. Don’t make us regret spending that money for you!”

(Y/N) was practically thrown into the room, stumbling as she fought to catch her balance, before the door was slammed shut behind her, the loud sound of the lock being latched reverberating around the room with the finality of a death toll. Huffing in anger, (Y/N) stood and brushed herself off, smoothing out her dress and straightening back up to her full height, fighting off the panic slithering up her spine.

A low groan of pain coming from behind her made her whirl around in surprise, her eyes landing on a shorter, pale skinned man with stunning silver eyes and raven black hair. Gods he looked pathetic. She could definitely tell he was attractive, it made sense now as to why he was a popular choice, but he looked sickly, his cheeks hollowed out, dark circles under his eyes, and a muscled yet neglected body starting to wear thin from years of hunger and constant overuse. The sight made her want to be sick. How could anybody be cruel enough to force themselves onto this obviously abused man? How could anyone willingly pay money to fuck him rather than help him?

“Um, hello,” (Y/N) said quietly. “W-What’s your name?”

The man raised an eyebrow, not used to the soft, kind, almost shy way she asked for his name. The women and occasional men he dealt with most of the time were demanding, controlling, and sadistic, knowing they paid for a man they could use, and their voices usually projected that. Yet, this woman looked as if she had been forced to do this, further supported by the way she had been nearly thrown into the room by whom he assumed was her friends.

“Levi,” he said quietly, waiting for the usual routine to start, no matter how much his gut twisted in disgust at the thought.

“Hi, Levi, I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)...” Levi murmured softly, training himself to memorize it despite his swimming brain, knowing she would want him to scream it out later. Whether in pain or in pleasure, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Um…” (Y/N) was about to speak, her mind scrambling for something to say when her eye caught sight of a large bruise on his neck. Her eyes widened and suddenly started scanning his entire body, her stomach roiling more and more the longer she stared. Now that she was really paying attention, (Y/N) could see painful bites, hickeys, and splotchy bruises littering his neck, jaw, chest, and thighs. Her eyes narrowed on the long, bloody scratches running down the length of his chest and back, and she noticed blooming red patches of skin all over him that were raw and aching from being slapped hard and rough over and over again. 

He was wearing a loose pair of worn boxers as his only cover, and (Y/N) could only imagine what other horrors the thin cloth was hiding. Glancing down, she saw him shift uncomfortably, his boxers tented by his arousal. The sight made her growl in anger, knowing that to keep him going after he had already had so many customers for the day, a drug was being used to make him insatiable, forcing him past the point of pain and probably clouding his judgement and mental process as well. It made her want to go cut up the brothel owner and serve him to a pig.

Without thinking, (Y/N) rushed to him, reaching out to him, only to freeze when he flinched. She heard him curse at the involuntary movement, knowing it was his job to appear as unaffected and sexually appealing as possible, and it made her heart clench even harder, her hatred for this place and the people who ran it increasing tenfold.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) immediately slowed her movements, trying to appear as calm and unhurried as possible. Her gaze softened and glazed with unshed tears when he closed his eyes, his arms reaching out as he prepared for her to sit on his lap and have her way with him like she knew every other man and woman who used him did. Gritting her teeth against the fury she felt, she carefully slid her way across his thighs. She felt him force himself to relax under her as he leaned forward to let her kiss him.

When he felt nothing, and heard something click, Levi cracked open his eyes in curiosity, only to have them fly open all the way when he felt something cool and wet against his neck. Looking down at the woman in his arms, his lips parted in shock, watching in confused awe as she leaned back and soaked a small cloth in some water from a bottle, rinsing the fresh blood from the fabric. Looking to the side, he saw a small first aid kit by her feet, the container open to reveal a variety of medical tools inside.

(Y/N) leaned forward again, raising the towel to his neck to dab at his abrasions, washing them carefully, reverently, almost... lovingly. Levi opened and closed his mouth but no words came out as she continued to work on him, delicately cleaning his jaw and neck before carefully moving on to his chest. Was this some kind of strange ritual she always performed during sex? Did she just find him dirty and want to clean him up before putting her lips or her pussy on his skin? His mind was running a million miles a minute as she worked on him in silence, only pausing when he hissed quietly at the feeling of his gashes being washed.

(Y/N) frowned as she gently swiped the cloth along the red gouges in his skin. They were deep, most likely caused by the long, sharp nail extensions some ladies liked to wear, or the dull blade of a man with violent tendencies. It didn’t surprise her, a lot of the men and women who used people like this did have sadistic qualities, but it didn’t help to quell the now roaring fire in her blood, wanting nothing more than to fight against the injustice of this man.

“W-What are you doing?” Levi finally managed to ask.

“Cleaning your wounds.”

“Why? Is this some kind of-”

“Preparation? No. We aren’t going to do anything. I just want to help your injuries heal.”

Levi felt like his brain was full of static, like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. He wasn’t complaining, far from it, but he couldn’t get a reading on this woman. Why would she, a noble from the surface, want to help him, a hopeless whore from the Underground?

“Wha-”

“Before you ask what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I didn’t even want to do this. I was forced to come to this festival because my father wants me to become more of a proper noble woman. But since I wasn’t too thrilled about having to be here, the people I came with thought I could use an opportunity to loosen up, and paid for me to do this with you in the hopes that I’d start having fun with them afterwards. But I have no intention of doing any of that. I hate how everyone in the Underground is treated like shit, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of someone who obviously isn’t in control of his situation. I just want to help.”

Levi closed his mouth, all of his protests dying on his tongue. He still had questions, a lot of them, but he decided those could wait, her explanation making him feel surprisingly relaxed for someone who had trained himself to never take the word of a noble at face value. He had never met anyone like her. Even before he was forced to whore himself out, all he had ever known of nobles was their complete lack of humility and egotistical sense of self-importance. 

It was silent for a moment, but this time, the silence was more comfortable, both of them starting to relax a little as (Y/N) continued to patch him up. Levi felt himself loosen up a bit, his muscles unwinding as his hands settled on her waist, keeping her securely balanced on his lap as she worked. Pride swirled in (Y/N)’s chest as she felt his tense muscles soften, her eyes sparkling as she started to work her way towards earning his trust.

“What’s your happiest memory?” (Y/N) asked suddenly.

Levi quirked an eyebrow in suspicion, “Why should I tell you, brat?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head and stifling a giggle at the nickname. “I only asked because I figured we may as well talk while we do this. Not only that, I feel like you could use some happiness right now. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you don’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to.”

Levi was silent for a minute, the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to make what he believed to be the right decision despite the fog clouding his judgement. Just as she had promised, (Y/N) waited patiently, not pressuring him to answer, or even bringing up another question. She merely sat in silence, her clear (e/c) eyes narrowed on his injuries as she worked to make him feel better.

“There was a time when I was with my friend Farlan, a few years back. We were doing a job, trying to get rid of a troublesome merchant for a client of ours when we found out the merchant had a cat. We were hiding around the corner, waiting to strike when that damn cat jumped up onto Farlan’s lap. I’m fine with cats, but that was the day we found out Farlan had some kind of allergy to them. He was trying to hold back his sneezes but finally lost control right when the merchant came around the corner, and Farlan ended up sneezing really violently in his face. That merchant got so scared he must’ve jumped at least three feet in the air, and even managed to piss himself before he took off. We still had to finish him off later, but in that moment, when Farlan was mortified and our target was running for the hills because of a cat induced sneeze, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.”

(Y/N) had paused in her work to listen to him, and couldn’t help but smile when he finished his story. Going back to work, (Y/N) didn’t ask what happened to Farlan, not wanting to drag him back down after she had finally gotten him to talk to her, about something so personal no less.

“What about you?” Levi asked.

“Hmm, I think I’d have to say when I got my horse for my birthday,” (Y/N) said. “I was never around the horses, wasn’t allowed to be in the barn because it wasn’t “proper for a lady”. But I loved them, loved seeing them on the streets when other nobles would come visit my father or when the soldiers from the Survey Corps would come back from a mission. I couldn’t stay away, so no matter how much my father tried to squash my love of them, it just wouldn’t happen. My mother eventually convinced him to let it go, and surprised me with a little chestnut filly that I named Sashay when I was about sixteen years old. Now, she’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s the only one who doesn’t try to force me to be something I’m not. Aside from the royal guards, I guess. They learned a long time ago to stop trying to get me to sit still and look pretty when I beat all of them in the sword fighting ring.”

Levi’s brows shot up into his hair at that, his lips parting in surprise. “You know how to sword fight?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh?”

“No,” Levi said. “I’ve never heard of a noble woman who could fight, let alone with a blade. Are you any good?”

“I tend to think so, but that all depends on who I’m up against,” (Y/N) said with a cheeky smile.

For some reason, Levi couldn’t help but smile back for the first time in years. His lips felt chapped and strained from disuse, but it felt good, a light feeling flooding his chest with warmth. “You said earlier that your horse’s name is Sashay,” Levi said, suddenly changing the topic.

“Mm hm.”

“That’s weird.”

(Y/N) giggled at his bluntness, making another fluttering feeling swirl in his chest. He had never met anyone other than Farlan who saw his language as something other than rude.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” (Y/N) said. “But I named her that because she is a sassy chestnut mare. I like to imagine that if she were human, she’d be someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but would do so with a spicy attitude. So I named her accordingly.”

Levi huffed a laugh at her response but almost immediately regretted it when the movement of his chest caused the rough gauze at her fingertips to brush against his injuries a little harder than before, the stinging sensation making him hiss in pain.

“Sorry!” (Y/N) said, quickly retracting her hands and holding them up, waiting for him to give her the signal to continue.

“Not your fault,” Levi mumbled, motioning that it was alright for her to get back to work. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said that before.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to do this.”

Levi wanted to ask her why but remembered what she had told him at the start of this and decided to trust her word, swallowing the question and instead changing topics. “Why do you even have this? Do you always just carry a first aid kit around?”

“Only when I come to the Underground. I want to have it available for those who really need it.”

“You do know that at least half of the people down here would kill you without a second thought to get to that medicine. Or they’d kill you if they thought you were pitying them.”

“I know, but I’d like to think I can handle myself a bit more than the average person. Even so, I usually keep it hidden unless I really want or need to use it on someone, and it’s only for quick patch-ups anyway. I can’t really fix anything major.”

(Y/N) finally finished with his front and carefully slid off of his thighs, moving slowly to begin working on his back. She made sure he was okay with everything she was doing before settling herself down onto the edge of the bed behind him, her hands reaching up to start her work once more.

Levi wanted to know more about her. He felt as if he could talk to her for hours, as if he had known her for years. He wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her cry, what her vision was for the future. It was insane, so much so that Levi idly wondered if he’d fallen off the deep end. But he couldn’t deny it. She was just too intriguing, so surprisingly kind, so genuine.

What was your childhood like? What are your favorite things to do? Do you come down here often? When will I see you again?

The questions continued to rattle around in Levi’s head as they once again lapsed into a comfortable silence but he forced all of them back, not wanting to seem either too desperate to get to know her, or be seen as coming on too strong.

After debating with himself for a while, Levi finally settled on, “You’ve mentioned your father a lot, and how he doesn’t want you to be yourself.”

(Y/N) tensed a little, her face twisted in a grimace behind Levi’s back. “Yeah… he used to be better about it, but ever since my mother died, he’s been like a tyrant. He’s upset he didn’t get a son in the first place, but now that he’s stuck with me for a daughter, he’s even more disappointed that I’m not someone he can easily make profits off of by marrying me off to someone. Not only have I been adamant about not allowing it, but no nobleman wants a woman who can think for herself. A woman who can ride a horse, go toe to toe with her soldiers, has an opinion, and is knowledgeable about current conflicts. They want someone who will dress up all pretty for them and be in bed, ready to satisfy them when they get home from gambling and drinking all day while sitting on their parents’ money.”

Levi scoffed and (Y/N) huffed in agreement. “I’m just not that kind of person. Every suitor that has ever met me has run away from my casual attire and sailor’s mouth.”

“Your father wasn’t like this when your mother was alive?” Levi asked.

“He was, but he wasn’t as bad. My parents were in an arranged marriage, but they got along alright. At least my father loved my mother enough to listen to her most of the time when she told him to lay off of me. I honestly think she’s the reason why I have such a strong fighting spirit.”

“I’m sorry she’s gone,” Levi said awkwardly, not used to providing words of comfort.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said genuinely, a warm smile gracing her beautiful features.

“I didn’t know my mother that well,” Levi said haltingly, still unsure why he felt comfortable telling her about things he hadn’t even talked to Farlan about. “She died of a disease when I was four years old. She was a prostitute, like me, so I never knew my father. When she died, I was picked up by a man named Kenny, who I thought might’ve been my father for a short while, but as I grew older, I realized he wasn’t. I don’t have any proof, I just know. When he abandoned me at ten, I was alone for a few years before I met Farlan.”

“So… you didn’t get stuck doing this because of your mother?” (Y/N) asked carefully, almost afraid to ask in case it made him shy away from her.

“No,” Levi said slowly. “I was twenty years old when I was caught stealing from a rich friend of this brothel owner. I had made a mistake and there was no way out. He figured out who I was, a thug who was known at the time for carrying out favors for people, whether that meant stealing or killing depended on how much they were willing to pay. Unfortunately, this led them to Farlan, and he gave me a choice. Me, or my best and only friend.”

“And you chose to save your friend at the expense of yourself,” (Y/N) finished for him in a hoarse whisper, filled with horror and unbridled fury at what this man had been through. She figured she should’ve been alarmed, he had just admitted that he had blood on his hands. He was a thief, a thug, a criminal, a murderer. But (Y/N) knew those things were nearly requirements for living in the Underground and no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t think of anything that would make this man deserve what he was going through.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something just as she put the last bandage in place when a loud pounding on the door startled them both. “Time’s up, you two!” The brothel owner shouted through the door.

(Y/N) shot up from the bed and rushed around to where the water and first aid kit sat, quickly packing up the little box of supplies and splashing her face with water, trying to make herself look sweaty enough to look convincing. Once everything had been packed away, (Y/N) stood and shrugged off her leather jacket, throwing it to him.

“Here, take this, it’ll keep your boss from seeing the bandages and trying to get rid of them. It’ll also give your injuries a little more protection from the bacteria in this room.”

Levi wanted to refuse, tell her he couldn’t accept a gift like this, even if it was temporary, but no words would come out as he watched the beautiful woman in front of him mess up her hair and swipe her fingers across her lips, trying to make herself look as wrecked as possible. When she finally looked the part enough to seem convincing, (Y/N) made her way to the door, turning one last time before she opened it to throw him a wink and a sweet smile.

“~Goodbye Levi, I hope we can see each other again soon.”

The lilt in her voice was fake, an act for anyone who may be listening on the other side of the door, meant to be taken as a sickly promise of more sexual endeavors to come, but he could feel the genuine emotion in her statement.

“I hope so too,” Levi said quietly after she had already left, the once comforting quiet of his room now making him feel lonely and empty.

The sound of pounding on his door woke Levi abruptly, making the raven-haired man growl in anger and annoyance. It was rare that the poor man got to sleep, not only because customers could come in at almost any time, day or night, but also because of the horrible insomnia that often plagued him. It made him even more irritable to be woken up, his body sore and his mind groggy as another round of pounding roused him further and prompted him to swing his legs over the side of the small cot he was provided when not busy fucking, and make his way to the door.

“What?” Levi snapped when he swung open the door, genuinely surprised that the pig who owned him hadn’t just burst into his room like he always did, raving about yet another customer for Levi.

“Get your shit, you’re going to the surface.”

Levi blinked. This had to be some kind of joke. The brothel owner never let anyone under his foot leave the brothel, let alone the Underground. Even the highest class noble women couldn’t request for him to come to them, the old man not trusting his prostitutes to be sent back. Especially Levi.

“Oi, your ears gone to shit now? Grab your pathetic bullshit and get out of my sight,” the man snarled, his small, watery eyes narrowed on Levi like he was the scum of the world.

Shaking himself out of it, Levi didn’t hesitate for another moment, rushing back into his room to grab the pitifully few things he had with him, including the leather jacket he had gotten from (Y/N), draping it over his shoulders to hide his healing injuries just in case it was a trick. The festival was still going on afterall, this could just be some ruse the old man set up to make the experience more interesting for the men and women who paid for him.

When Levi returned, the man pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and jerked his head, signaling Levi to follow him. Levi knew better than to risk running. In his full health he could’ve easily escaped from the man’s clutches, but with little more than a half hour of rest, his injured body, weak muscles, and the remnants of the drugs still working through his system, Levi didn’t trust himself to outrun a bullet, and knew the pig wouldn’t hesitate to fire, no matter how valuable Levi was to him. 

Even though Levi kept expecting the brothel owner to turn down a secluded street and lead him right into an ambush or trick of some sort, he never did, leading Levi right to the stairs exiting the Underground. When they reached the guards at the base of the stairs, the man took two slips of paper from the inner pocket of his worn brown coat and showed it to the guard. When he was cleared to continue on, the brothel owner turned and motioned for Levi to stay close as he stomped his way up the stairs, grumbling incoherently to himself all the while.

Breaching the surface, Levi brought an arm to his face, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the sun as it attacked his face with warm, bright light. He eventually got used to it, slowly lowering his arm and rushing to catch up with his boss, who was impatiently grunting for him to hurry up.

Passing through what appeared to be a busy market square, Levi followed the brothel owner along the lively cobblestone streets until they reached a quieter part of the town, stopping along the edge of a beautiful flower field, the grassy meadow filled with colorful blossoms that secretly took Levi’s breath away.

The sound of horse hooves caught his attention, and Levi looked up only to have the air fly from his lungs when (Y/N)’s bright face came into view, the stunning woman seated astride whom he assumed to be Sashay and flanked by two armed men.

“Right on time,” the brothel owner grumbled, his little pig eyes narrowing when he saw her passive aggressive smile.

“Of course I’m on time, this is my deal, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man growled. “Are you sure you want this one? He’s my most popular, I’d hate to lose him.”

“Yes, he’s the one I want. Besides, I believe the money I’ve paid you has far exceeded the profit you have earned from having him around. I’m sure you will be able to manage.”

The man sneered at her but didn’t respond, using the muzzle of the gun to push Levi forward and digging in his pocket to fish out the same pieces of paper he had shown the guards on the stairs, handing them to (Y/N).

“Thank you, sir. I believe we are done here.”

The brothel owner slunk off, casting dark looks at her but refusing to argue as he hunkered off to head back down to the Underground, where he would continue to rot like the rat he was. Levi watched him go before turning to (Y/N), surprised by the bright smile she flashed him when he met her gaze.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

(Y/N) smiled even wider and held up the pieces of paper she had been handed. One of them was the file labeling him as a slave to the brothel owner, keeping him from escaping, and the other was a bill of sale. His eyes widened when he saw her signature on the bottom of both pages, officially registering her as his new owner. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she took both pages in her hands and ripped them in half, letting the torn pages float onto the street below, forgotten, useless.

“There, you’re free now.”

Levi was at a loss for words, his mouth gaping open. “(Y/N)? What-”

“Before you ask me what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your life, your sacrifice, your pain, and I decided I could do something about it. You are human, and damn it, you are an important one! I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, you won’t have to work for anyone but yourself. You won’t have to cater to anyone else’s needs and you can fulfill whatever dreams you have.”

“But, that must’ve cost you a fortune, to cover more than the amount of money he’s made off of using me? What about-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Levi. I want to use my funds for good, put them towards the people who need it the most. That includes you. Especially you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to stay in that shit hole for even a second longer than necessary.”

“What do I do now, then?” Levi asked, trying to focus on keeping his voice steady.

“Well, you can do whatever you want now. You’re a free man, you can find a house and settle down somewhere, or you can go back to the Underground and pick up your life where you left off. You can join the military, or you can start a small business here in the square. It’s anything you want. You get to choose your life now.”

“And what if I don’t want to do any of those things?”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that flashed across her face then, her heart filling with warmth. “Like I said, it’s your choice, you can do whatever you want, carve your own path, but if you want to come with me, you’re always welcome to.”

Levi’s lip twitched and he took a step forward, reaching up to pat Sashay’s muzzle as he got closer. “Alright, I’ll follow you.”

(Y/N) beamed before turning around to nod at each one of her guards, dismissing them. When they had left, presumably returning to (Y/N)’s family estate, she reached down for him, her hand extended for him to take. Placing his rough palm into her warm hand, he allowed her to help him up into the saddle behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep himself secure as (Y/N) kicked Sashay into an easy canter. Sighing blissfully, Levi let himself relax, his chin coming down to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder as they made their way home, together.

Levi had never expected to see the day when he would willingly go with a noble, but then again, he never thought he’d ever meet a noble like (Y/N). Now, as he felt her warmth soak into his chest, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Levi finally felt the remnant effects of the drugs in his system fade away as the sun beams broke through the fluffy clouds in the sky, leaving his mind clear. He was making this decision all on his own, nothing left to impair his judgement, and no matter what, he knew he would never regret the path he chose to take just so long as (Y/N) stayed by his side.

[lisinfleur]

Memento Mori

The request:

Author’s Notes | This came out sadder than I thought. But it’s beautiful imo and I hope you like it. Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | requested by anon for 5CW Ivar II, posted for HTGI Event. Words | 1894 ⁑ Warnings: Triggering content: mentions of child loss (past), mentions to burns, deep angst. Caution is recommended, the following content may be triggering to some audiences.

She became my queen.

From a woman I couldn't handle looking at to the one I didn't want to take my eyes off, Y/N became the most precious of my treasures.

And perhaps it was the reason why finding that piece of metal hidden beneath her pillow was such a huge betrayal to me.

Perhaps it was for loving her too deeply that I let out raw screams of rage that woke up the whole Hall when I found that symbol of her lies.

I could remember every trace of our story.

The day I chose her from the line of our Saxon's slaves because she noticed I was in pain.

"I know how to care for these pains, my lord."

Her ointments, her treatments, how slowly she eased the pain of my body more than any healer was able to do. How, one night at a time, it brought her closer to me like a companion.

How it made me talk to her, be gentler, try to get her smiles.

How her presence became the easiest way to get mine.

My fingers pressed that piece of retorted metal, remembering how deep I'd fallen in love with her. How she promised she would leave her past for me. How I asked her to come home with me. To come into my life. To be mine, and no one else's.

Every single promise of hers was broken by that piece's presence.

How could I trust her when she was betraying me like that? Laying beside me with that symbol as if it wasn't a crime by itself against my trust, against my love.

Against everything.

"How could you?" I yelled when she came into our room, attracted by my screams. "How could you lie to me like this?"

The metal cross, made of gold and silver, hanging from my fingers for her major shock and surprise.

"Ivar..."

"No!" I yelled again.

My voice was as loud as the pain was big in my heart.

"I've been trusting you all these years, Y/N. I trusted your promises! I made you my wife!" I said, looking at her with fierce and sharp blues. "I made you my queen... I gave you everything and this... This is how you repay my love!"

"Ivar no!" she insisted, trying to approach. "It's not what you think..."

I pushed her away, watching as she fell near the fireplace.

"Don't come to me with more of your lies, woman!" I kept yelling, furious. "What more, Y/N?" I asked.

My eyes deep inside of hers.

"What more about you is a lie? What more did you tell me you would do that you're not doing, my dear wife? Uh? What more?!"

Her tears started rolling down her face, but I could see her eyes were focused on the piece in my hand, and it just made me angrier. She wasn't really feeling bad nor guilty about lying to me.

No.

Her major concern was that piece in my hands. That cross was so beloved that she could ignore my deepest wounds to look at it with all the fear of Midgard in her eyes.

She wasn't afraid of losing me the same way she was terrified by the idea of losing that scrap of meaningless metal I had in my hands.

I've seen it in red.

I didn't see when I threw that shit in the fire, hearing with contempt the yell of despair her voice converted into. Watching with deception while she burned her own fingers to pick that piece from the fire, hurting her hands I'd caressed so many times.

Everything just to have back that meaningless symbol of her treason.

The metal didn't even have time to get warm enough to be damaged, but she had marks from the burning wood she had touched fearlessly for that insignificant proof of her crime.

"Is it this strong?" I asked, looking at her with disdain. "Your faith in him is so..."

"It was my child's!" she cried out loud, cutting my voice.

Freezing me in place when her sobs broke her voice, and I saw her bringing that cross close to her heart, embracing it with her wounded hands as if it was the most precious thing in this world.

"It was my child's crucifix," she sobbed. "It was everything that's left from my baby boy. I didn't have time to pick up his clothes. I couldn't pick up anything. This is everything that's left."

My shock was maybe as big as my confusion.

"You... Had a child?" I asked, totally stunned by those words.

Still trembling, Y/N lifted her face, looking at me with thick tears in her eyes full of sorrow.

"My little Rafael..." she mumbled, making my face frown with all the love in the way she spoke his name.

I could remember hearing something about a Rafael from Bishop Heahmund, cycles ago. Something about an arch-angel or something like that.

"I named him after the archangel of healing, begging God to heal his awful pain. Begging anyone who could bless my hands to relieve his constant misery," she continued.

Crushing my heart with the sigh of my mother's eyes on hers.

She was speaking of her Rafael the same way mother used to speak about... Me.

"He was my everything. My one and only child my husband didn't want to accept. He left me because of Rafael's condition, saying I'd given birth to a demon. But My child wasn't a demon!" she yelled.

Defending her child... The same way mother would do to me...

"He's not a monster!"

I swallowed dry as she continued, making that knot in my throat almost suffocating.

"Rafael was just a child in pain. His legs were like yours," she cried.

Her burnt fingers caressing the jewel in her hands.

"Sometimes, I couldn't even hold my son without hurting him," she mumbled painfully. "Sometimes, even the minimum movement would break his little bones, so I was twice as careful when doing anything to my little angel. But..."

The pause in her voice filled my heart with sorrow.

I had never scratched that part of her story. I could imagine why.

I could imagine how it would end.

"First, I thought he was indeed a little angel God decided to take back to the sky. Then... Then the anger came. Why would God make such an innocent angel suffer like that? Why giving him to me if I would have to bury his little broken body with my bare hands? I yelled at God. I cried at him. But he never answered me. And then... I got revolted. My little Rafael wasn't with me anymore. And it was God's fault for doing him that way! It was God's fault for allowing my child to suffer. It was my fault for producing him imperfectly. It was everyone's fault!" she paused, swallowing her sobs for a moment. "And when your men came, when your faith came, and I've heard your words about yourself, I finally understood. It was no one's fault. It was his fate. It was my fate. And God didn't make him like that to suffer. No. The gods had given him to me as a gift so he could spend the most beautiful days of my life in my arms. The gods had cut the thread of his life to spare him from suffering cause his condition was worse than yours. And he wouldn't survive as long as you did."

Her words were killing me inside, softly.

She'd found relief in my faith. She'd found an answer to her questions in my gods. And there I was, hurting her because of a stupid necklace.

"The gods showed me their mercy bringing you into my life so I could understand my child's fate. And so..." Y/N looked at me. "So I thought they wouldn't be mad if I saved this little memento. It means nothing the faith it carries, Ivar. It's not Christ's cross anymore. This... This is my remembrance of my sweet Rafael. This doesn't turn me to the skies, Ivar. This makes me remember his tiny little fingers trying to catch this cross in my hands, or his giggles whenever it would shine for him to see."

Her voice broke. The sobs engulfed her. And I saw her embracing the necklace again as if she could embrace her child the gods had taken from her so soon.

How stupid I was. How unfair could I be?

I sat in my bed, taking off my braces and dragging myself closer to her, bringing my bandages and ointment I took from my nightstand. Slowly, I took the small piece from her hands, treating it with the proper respect when I placed it gently on her neck, carrying for her hands and bandaging the burns after spreading the ointment over them.

I kissed her fingers and cupped her face, kissing her forehead and wiping her tears.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking into her eyes. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did, my love. Forgive me, please." I asked.

No shame of showing my regret, gently caressing her cheeks.

She leaned into my hands, so mine. Her eyes closed as she felt my caresses, sighing as if they could soothe the pain in her heart.

"I didn't lie to you, my heart. I swear," she mumbled.

"Shhh..." I said, touching her lips gently. "I know. I was wrong," I mumbled, touching our foreheads, slowly nuzzling my nose to hers.

"He taught me how to take care of you, my love," she said, opening her eyes so deep into mine. "I've learned with my child how to soothe your pain. He was so important in my life... I would've never known how to care for you if it wasn't for his existence. He allowed us to exist. And I'm so grateful I had him, although it was for such little time, I'm grateful."

I held her in my arms, cradling her body against mine. And I stayed there a long time trying to compensate for my horrible behavior.

When she fell asleep that night, I went out of our house. I crawled up on the hill, and I gathered stones. I placed them all together, and marked them with runes, placing some flowers and small decorations around them.

I made it as if it was my own child. And I prayed for him, asking the gods he could hear me that single night.

"I don't know where you are. If with Hel or in heaven, as the Christians believe. But I want you to know I'll take care of her. I swear on my arm ring I'll never make her cry like this once again. And when your brothers and sisters come, I'll tell them about you. I'll tell them your story. So, you shall live through them. So, you shall live forever."

After that, I saw my dear Y/N with her precious cross here or there. She didn't have to hide it from me anymore, so, sometimes, I would see her holding the small jewel with tenderness. But now, it had a whole new meaning to me.

And I knew, somewhere in the afterlife, a child was very happy for the loving mother that brought him into this world someday.

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[emikadreams]

Right where you left me

A/N: Um yah, so this is sad, I’m sorry. A fic about Rhys during the months after acotar..posting again cuz my old one got deleted

MAIN MASTERLIST, ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Rhysand had been trying to get shitfaced every night to forget his aching heart but no matter how hard he tried to forget her, his thoughts drifted back to her. She had filled his thoughts without even trying and he could no longer fight it. He thought back to the way she had looked at him- with hatred, disgust, exhaustion and finally with a sense of friendship.

He angrily wiped his face, dragging his hand through his hair, he paced his room, his breaths, a shallow reminder of what he had left behind.

Feyre

Her name was like his masterpiece, a magnum opus of beauty. The answer to his prayers, a song he had been waiting to hear, a melody that has etched its way into his heart. She was a queen in all rights except a title. She made him weak, he would’ve done anything for her, from the minute their gazes locked, he knew that she had made all the other loves in his life irrelevant.

She was beyond smart, beautiful as the spirits on Starfall, graceful as the moon.

She was his salvation. Even as a human she had looked at him with a myriad of emotions, but never with fear.

She wasn’t afraid of him.

The thought cleaved through the air like an Illyrian blade and made him stop his furious pacing, rooting him to the spot, his knees gave out from under him, he collapsed to the ground. A strangled sob broke free, he brought his knees close to his chest, curling in on himself he finally cried. He hadn’t let himself break but he had waited too long.

His body shook with sobs that rocked his house, his grip on his power loosened, as the darkness spread around his room in a morbid display of his tattered heart he realised with a start that his darkness was grieving with him.

Grieving for something that wasn’t theirs, to begin with.

Rhysand was unworthy, tainted, a tarnished man with the blood of countless people on his hands- he didn’t deserve her. With his cries getting louder, he didn’t want to wake his family so he clamped a hand across his mouth and wept. His throat was tightened with emotion, his eyes felt tired, yet they still shed tears.

After what felt like an eternity of swimming in his own despair he sprawled on the ground, drawing his knees closer, he wrapped his arms around himself to soothe him to sleep. Like usual sleep evaded him, so he opted to cry till he made his own river of tears.

“Why?” he whispered to his room, not expecting an answer he continued with a scoff, “I have tried to be good, I have played by whatever sick twisted rules this damned court forced upon me, I’ve even had to hide most of myself from my very own family.”

He pulled himself up and towards his large windows to gaze at the stars. “Why me? Why are you letting me suffer? I asked for a miracle and you pointed her towards me, only to rip her away- to-to give her to,” his voice cracked but anger got the best of him as he said, “ The murderer!”

He slammed the windows hard enough to break, he screamed till his voice was hoarse. He slid down and rested his forehead against the glass, “ If you’re listening, please help me see her one last time. That’s all I want, to see her one last time and to say goodbye.”

He looked at the stars one more time before falling asleep, “Please.” his words were a prayer to the stars from a man deeply in love with a woman he can’t ever have.

The sun was shining brightly, its rays danced across his face, waking him up with a sense of urgency. He stretched and immediately locked up as he surveyed his surroundings, his heart sunk as he realised that he had slept through the night because it seemed that Feyre had been sending comforting images of the night sky to him.

He got up from his bedroom floor with a blanket draped over him. Someone must’ve checked in on him while he was asleep. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The sun was still shining with renewed vigour as he changed, almost as if it had been mocking him for being a Lord of Night without his equal.

He flipped off the sun, “Go to hell fucker.” he murmured to the innocent sun and went about his day, which included more drinking and shrieking his responsibilities for a while. He walked the streets of the artist’s corner, his thoughts on Feyre’s hand around a paintbrush filling his mind. He smiled at his joyous citizens, busing himself with mindless conversations he could’ve enjoyed were it not for the fact that he was screaming on the inside.

He walked home, opening another bottle, he started to drink and let his thoughts drift, allowing the drink to numb him.

It had been two months since he had returned home to Velaris, he should’ve felt lighter, the colour of his life should’ve painted itself over his bleak existence but alas! He was still seeing grey, it didn’t matter that his family- his court was safe. Everything in his life should’ve righted itself the minute he was able to sun his wings after fifty years of being trapped, yet darkness hounded him in a perpetual state of dismay.

His laughter was a forgotten sound, happiness- a faded memory. His family tries to coax him out of his shell, to laugh with them, to dance, to smile and have fun but he couldn’t bring himself to let loose. For them, he pasted a plastic smile on his face, he didn’t want them to worry, they had enough on their plate but- how could he be happy when his mate was not with him.

Rhysand was drowning in his misery and the inner circle knew it, but they couldn’t help him, for they were blind to the extent of his pain. As he took another sip of the amber coloured liquid in his hands, tears slipped free, he was coming undone and there was nothing his family could do about it.

Rhysand had returned home but he was broken.

He hated that he made them worried, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he felt her nightmares shake her awake. He wanted to soothe her, to hold her, to promise her that things would get better. His mind kept on replaying the moments between them as if they were frozen in time.

It was as if he was watching his happiness get stripped away from him. In his dreams, She was his and he was hers- this fantasy was enough to make him weep uncontrollably.

But he didn’t deserve her.

She was the only good thing in this miserable universe and he didn’t want her light to be corrupted by his damning darkness. He chugged back another gulp of the bitter drink, allowing his broken soul to pierce his skin, he felt like his skin was made of glass. His life was once a beautiful mural that has now been shattered beyond repair for Feyre was his melody and he was forced to forget the tune before he even got to hear it.

“Rhys- hey, hey, hey- Rhys” Cassian walked into the room and grabbed the bottle and glass away from him, “You’ve had enough Rhys,” Came Az's sombre reply. Rhys tried to swing at Cassian but his vision was doubled so he gave up, slumping in his chair. Cassian gave the booze to Az, together they helped him onto his bed, tucked the blanket around his close, laid him on his side and put a bucket under his bed. “I’ll get Mor”, Az whispered as Rhys’s eyes drifted close.

The next time he opened his eyes, his cousin’s sad smile greeted him, she held his hand gently and gave it a little squeeze, “How’re you doing?” Rhys’s throat felt like sandpaper but he unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and spoke softly, “I love her,” Mor nodded solemnly, “I know.”

Rhys’s tears had once again returned, “But I can’t have her,” his voice broke, despair took control of his body, sobs racked through him and he shivered, Mor hugged him tightly as he cried, she stroked his hair wishing she could take his pain away, for she knew that her cousin was a ghost all because of his human heart, “Why?” He didn’t have to finish his question for Mor already knew the answer, “Because sometimes the people we love tend to become the one’s that cause us the most pain.”

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

If u wanna cry more, you can read "She's my mate" by me, it's something that happened after the balcony scene in acotar

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