#we all know what i meant when i said bow now be so serious

[elliespeach]

i hate u bitches for real

[letoasai]

Will work for food

DP x DC An idea that's probably been done before but... here it is again.

~~

It was not an ideal setting for this. Out in the open, debris being their only cover. An unnatural storm closing in. The area had been evacuated but there was still no telling how many civilian eyes could be on them at this very moment. 

The League was scattered, making this current group a touch at odds while away from the majority of their normal teams. 

Batman stood with Red Robin, Flash, Superboy, and Raven. It wasn’t a bad lineup, but things were getting dicy. 

A monster had appeared, a creature foreign to most of them. With it came storms of all kinds, winds, hail, rain. It was a mess but there was nothing natural about it. The hail shattered the pavement. The winds were picking buildings up off their foundations. The blue lightning went without saying. The ice was changing the terrain. The temperature changes were disorienting to most of the heroes.  

Worse was the fact that this creature seemed to be able to duplicate itself, spreading the chaos out to a much wider area. They were having trouble even touching the thing let alone capturing it. 

“Are you sure about this?” Batman asked, a deep frown etched into his face as he watched Raven mark out a summoning circle. 

“It’s the only idea i have.” She said bluntly, shivering from the sudden chill. “That thing is not of this realm. We need something else not of this realm to subdue it.” 

“I hear what you’re saying but summoning a demon to deal with a demon still leaves us with a demon.” Flash said, seeing the flaw in this plan. 

“Unless you know this one personally or something.” Red Robin offered, his voice exhausted. 

“It’s not a demon.” Raven said, tone irritated but it wasn’t like any of them were having a good day. “Depending on how you want to look at it, it’s far worse than a demon. That thing came from the Infinite Realm.” 

Superboy just grunted once, watching her put the finishing touches on her spell circle. “You said that in a tone that said it was in capital letters. What’s the Infinite Realm?” 

“Bad news and something we shouldn’t freaking touch.” Raven answered swiftly. She stood, eyes going over her work. 

“Then what the hell are we doing?” Flash asked quickly, all of them tensed as the wind started to pick up again. If a hurricane was thrown at them, there was little they’d be able to do about it. 

“Raven.” Batman’s voice was serious. “You’re sure?” 

“It’s all i’ve got.” She repeated. “This is not a problem this realm was meant to handle on short notice. We need help.” 

There were several things in that one statement he didn’t like. “Who are you summoning?” 

Raven was looking rather pale herself. “The Ghost King. The King of the Infinite Realm. I’ve heard word that he can be bargained with so… we’re gonna give it a shot.” 

She didn’t wait for permission from anyone else to throw in their two cents on the matter. She threw her hands out, alien words no one else understood on her lips. The chant repeated and the summoning circle began to glow a green that the present Bats didn’t care for. 

It crept up the walls of the summoning circle in oddly pretty patterns before a gaping void opened on the ground. Silently, a figure rose into the circle from that same void. The king was smaller than they’d been imagining the last minute or two. He was human shaped and sized, a black crown floating several inches over his head. He was a wispy figure, face hidden by a large hood but there were strands of white hair floating around their shadowed face. He’d had nothing but a smoky looking tail when he’d first appeared but that had now split into solid looking legs. 

Given his size, he seems like a young adult, but it was hard to say for certain without seeing his face. 

“Woah.” Red Robin muttered, Superboy agreeing with the sentiment. 

“Heroes?” The Ghost King wondered, voice soft and lethargic. “Interesting.” 

Raven bowed her head in a show of respect. “Your Majesty. I apologize for the abrupt summons. We have a dire situation and are willing to make a deal for your help.” 

“A deal…” His voice echoed gently. He spoke as if raising his voice would shatter the very air around them. “That’s not something to choose lightly. What do you want from me?” 

Raven swallowed, her body rigid with nerves. She was almost relieved when Batman took over. 

“As i understand it, we have a being from your realm here in ours. We are underprepared to deal with such destruction and-” 

“Of my realm?” The King interrupted softly, head tipped a little as his attention turned to Batman. “Who?” 

Flash laughed nervously. “We’re not on a first name basis or anything but the guy seems to control the weather.” He pointed up and the sky above them was darkening the longer they spoke. 

The King made a noise like he’d clucked his tongue and it struck all of them as a very human kind of gesture despite his title. 

“I can handle that. Your deal?” 

Raven inhaled again, this obviously being the part she was dreading. “Blood, i have the blood of the Demon Lord Trigon-” 

“Pass.” 

That drew everyone up short. The others didn’t exactly understand the significance of Raven offering her blood but it clearly wasn’t something she’d expected to be declined so quickly. 

“My soul then….” Raven muttered. 

“Raven, no!” Superboy hissed. “The fuck!” 

Batman was also eyeing her unhappily. “Absolutely not. You are not Constantine.” 

Fortunately for the heroes, each of which was ready to revolt for such a barter, the Ghost King waved the thought away. 

“Nah.” He tugged on his hood a little and Batman realized he was likely brushing away one of those white strands of hair from his face. “That’s the thing about being the King of the Infinite Realm. Souls come to me one way or another in time. No need to preorder them.” 

Raven’s shoulders sagged, eyes shifting as she rapidly tried to think of something else she could offer. 

“What do you want?” Red Robin asked before anyone else could say something stupid. “You’re the one that’s going to fight this threat for us. What’s a good deal?” 

The King turned to him and stared. They could only assume he was contemplating his answer when he hummed quietly. “Food.” 

“Wha…” Flash muttered. 

The Ghost King just nodded. “Food from your realm. It’s been…a long time since i’ve eaten.” 

“Really? Like we could go grab you a burger and that would be cool?” Superboy asked, a touch suspicious, but the King just nodded.  

“Deal.” Raven said before anyone would make it worse. “A meal for returning this threat back to your realm.” 

The King nodded again, and each of them backed up several paces when the walls to the summoning circle broke apart and the King stepped out. For the briefest of moments he seemed to nearly stumble under the gravity of actually ‘walking’ but he got over it quickly enough. 

“Can we offer you any assistance?” Batman asked. 

The King shook his head. “No.” He wandered off towards the storm, the floating crown on top of his head seeming a little larger. He moved confidently and with purpose. “Oh Vortex…” He called, walking into the winds. 

He sounded young, but all of them agreed immediately that they never wanted to hear him beckoning them the same way. His tone was dangerous, and he walked right through a car that had been flung in his direction. 

“Cool.” Red Robin muttered. 

“Simmer down, Red.” Superboy muttered. All of them wanted to follow, but with the unstable weather and a literal Ghost King wandering about, staying out of the way felt like the best option. Of course that didn’t mean they weren’t dying of curiosity. 

Flash moved to stand beside Raven, making sure she wasn’t about to topple over because of the power it must have taken to summon a king from another dimension. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” she breathed out a sigh. “Honestly, this was an unforeseen best case scenario. You should really go get that food for him.” 

Batman moved to her otherside, hearing the voices over comms noticing a shift in what was happening. “You think it will be over that fast?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well-” Flash looked up at the sky that was rapidly clearing. “Yep. I’ll be right back.” He was gone in a blur but it was hard to believe a change was happening so quickly. 

“Has it even been a full minute?” Superboy asked. “I mean, damn…” 

“Someone better have been recording visuals.” Red Robin muttered. “We are absolutely missing something amazing.” 

“He’s the King of the infinite Realm.” Raven said. “It’s the realm that connects every other realm and it is as the name implies… infinite. He rules it. I don’t even think Trigon would dare mess with him.” 

Batman had his arms crossed, still listening to the amazed chatter over comms. “Should it be suspicious that all he wants is food?” 

“He made the deal.” Raven shrugged. “He could have asked for anything. Literally.” She stopped speaking when the hooded king returned. He was floating this time though only a foot or two off the ground. He didn’t look tired or dirty or anything. 

Just the same ethereal otherness he’d arrived with. “Done.” He announced. 

“What uh- happened to the guy?” Superboy asked, pointing vaguely at where the storm had been raging. 

The Ghost King just dug into his cape and pulled out…a thermos. “Souped him. He’s gonna have a little time out.” 

“Oh my god, i have so many questions.” Red Robin whispered. 

The thermos was put away and Batman was suppressing his own urge to ask a dozen questions over what just occurred. They’d been struggling with the Infinite creature for hours and countless lives had no doubt been altered. Clean up would take weeks if not months and this Ghost King handled it in minutes. 

“My food?” 

“On the way.” Raven said immediately. “Flash is one of the fastest men on the planet. He’ll be right back.” 

The King nodded and looked around before moving to a pile of bricks that had once been a fence. He sat down and waited, somehow looking regal among the wreckage. 

“So… I’m Red Robin.” Batman looked up again when his son was sliding closer to introduce himself. “Superboy, Raven, Batman.” He gestured and the King’s hood shifted as he followed Red Robin’s introduction of them. “Is there something we can call you or is your Majesty the most appropriate?” 

The Ghost King sat in silence for a moment before reaching up to lower his hood. The shadows that had hidden his face disappeared revealing a young man only a little older than Tim. Maybe around Jason’s age. His hair was indeed white, and was braided down the nape of his neck save for the tufts of hair that floated around his face. 

His skin was pale, and Batman thought it might have been gray or even blue in different light. His ears were pointed and his eyes were a haunting green. 

With the hood out of the way, the crown lowered to sit on his head. 

“Phantom.” He finally answered. “You can call me Phantom.” 

Raven bowed her head again and Red Robin beamed. “Thank you for helping us! We literally couldn’t have done it without you.”

Phantom nodded again but without his hood to shield him there was something shy about the action. 

The Flash reappeared in a cloud of dust, two bags of fast food in one hand and a collection of drinks under the other arm. “I got a little of everything!” He announced. “Got some burgers and some chicken nuggets and fries and onion rings. There’s one of those little apple pies in here somewhere too.

Phantom took the bags with a small smile and set them beside him so he could go through them. Superboy helped with the drinks, setting everything down so Phantom could have his pick. There were three different sodas, a lemonade, and a water. 

It wasn’t fancy and probably wasn’t a fair trade of a meal for his services but he didn’t seem disappointed. 

In a flash of rings made of light, Phantom transformed. The otherness of him was still there, but instead of a noble king of a realm, a young…very living human was in his place. Black hair instead of white was still braided down his neck and the strands around his face hung limp instead of floating. 

Those eerie green eyes were now blue but that– oddly enough– was not the most startling thing about his transformation. He wore a large hoodie and jeans but his feet were bare. 

His hands and feet were almost skeletal, and his face was gaunt and starved looking. His eyes were slightly sunken and his skin was a sickly kind of pale. 

He looked emaciated, but there was the smallest of smiles on his face when he ate one fry and then another. He took a sip from every drink offered to him and then took a bite out of the burger. 

They couldn’t help but stand there and watch, all of them transfixed over what they were seeing. 

Phantom took two more bites before wrapping up the rest of his burger and placing it back in the bag. 

“Not to your liking?” Flash asked, voice small. 

Phantom licked his fingers and shook his head. “No, it was good. I’m just full. I’ll take it with me and eat it later when i’m hungry again.” 

Batman could only imagine the size of his stomach. Stopping now was probably the healthiest thing he could have done if he wanted to keep the food down. He cleared his throat. “Are you alright?” 

“Mhmm.” Phantom nodded, the rings of light appearing again. He was back in his healthier looking ghostly form. That was an oxymoron, wasn’t it? A healthy ghost form… 

“You’re still alive.” Raven whispered, stuck in her shock. “The living shouldn’t… The Infinite Realm isn’t…” 

Phantom’s lips tipped up in a smile. “You’re right, but wrong. I’m both. I’m dead. I’m alive. I’m balance.” He paused for a moment. “I haven’t been in a living realm for a while… guess i’ve been neglecting that side of me. Thanks for the food, it was a good deal.” 

He was gathering up the bags he clearly planned to take with him. 

“You should come back.” Red Robin spat the words out, likely before giving them any real thought. “I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll take you like… all the time. I am not going to pretend to know what you have going on but… shit, Agent A would disown me if i did not offer to feed you.” 

Phantom looked cold briefly. “Agent… A…?” 

Red Robin winced, “Code name for my grandfather. He’s an amazing cook.” 

“Red Robin.” Batman scowled at him. 

“Oh, what? He’s gonna give you the look for you not being the one to offer.” Red Robin said unapologetically, but the explanation had Phantom softening again. “What do you say? Lunch? Do i have to summon you?” 

“Jesus, Red. Let him actually decline or accept.” Superboy was snickering. 

Phantom looked between them, the confusion on his face clearing up after a beat. A piece of paper appeared between his fingers. It had some kind of squiggle on it none of them could read at a glance. He handed it over to Red Robin. 

“Have that on you, say my name. I’ll find you.” Phantom said. “I should…eat again.” 

“We…appreciate you helping us.” Raven added quickly, determined that they make a good impression. 

Phantom’s look grew warmer again. “It was fun.” With his bags and drinks in his arms, he wandered back over to the summoning circle. “I don’t mind helping when the trouble is severe and you were right. This particular problem was mine to clean up. Sorry about him, by the way. Vortex is an asshole.” 

Superboy and Flash both snorted. “Thanks anyway.” 

Phantom nodded at them again, floating in the middle of the circle before his eyes glowed that bright, toxic green again. He slipped inside the void and disappeared as quickly as he arrived, the remains of the summoning circle erasing itself. 

“So… That happened.” Flash muttered, not sure how they were gonna put this in a report to the rest of the League members. Batman wasn’t so sure either. 

“I can’t believe you were just hitting on the Ghost King, Red.” Superboy laughed. “I mean… Lunches?”

“What?” 

Raven was on her phone. “I am already telling Nightwing.” 

“What!? Hey!” Red Robin was looking between them. “I wasn’t hitting on him. You leave Wing out of this!” 

“No way.” 

“You asked him on a date, man!” Superboy grinned. “All the titans are going to know about this in the next hour.” 

“You guys suck!” Red Robin growled, his face a flame. 

Batman just sighed. “There’s clean up to do. Get to work.” 

He definitely did not need to think about his son’s audacity, coming onto a King of an entire realm. Where did he even learn that kind of behavior?

~~

Masterlist

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared. 

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

[darknight3904]

Blank Space

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ���ᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!

You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.

It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.

"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.

"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.

"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.

One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.

"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.

You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.

"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed

"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out

" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth

"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.

"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"

He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him

"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile

"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.

"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.

"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side

"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.

Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.

"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you

"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.

Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.

"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.

"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks

"You love it." He sighed into your skin.

Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games

You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?

It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.

"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly

"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat

"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said

"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.

"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say

"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies

"So you were just comforting her?" You ask

"Yes. Nothing more." He says

Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?

"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.

You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.

"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.

"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended

"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh

"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed

"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say

"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage

"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says

"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter

"That wasn't cheating." He says

"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask

"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says

"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."

"She'll win." He assures himself

"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.

"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer

"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."

"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently

"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly

"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you

"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh

"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."

You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.

"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."

Part 2

In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.

The teaser for Part Two can be found here

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

[atlabeth]

leave the door open - anthony lockwood

summary: no matter what happens, there's always the light underneath the door. the sign that, when you're ready, he'll let you back in with open arms.

a/n: obviously inspired by leave the door open by silk sonic because i could (and have) listen to it on repeat for hours. this spiraled way out of control but im honestly really happy with it and i hope you all are too!

wc: 8.2k

warning(s): mild angst, arguing, hurt/comfort, mildly serious injury, short scene with a gun/gunshot wound, but the whole first half of the fic is fluff and it is all wrapped up w a fluffy ending

127.

128.

129.

13–

Your focus was broken as police sirens blared past your window, and you let out a long-lasting sigh. This was the fifth time your count had been interrupted, and you weren’t starting over again. 

Trying to sleep was a fruitless endeavor at this point, and that wasn’t going to change no matter how many notches in the wall you counted—you might as well accept it.

You’d never been much for sleeping through the night, but your new home boded worse for it all. A new room, a new house, a new city, a new agency. Being in the thick of it all after what felt like so long on your own was overwhelming, and it still felt like it could all fall apart. Being given the job all because you passed a few tests in the living room didn’t exactly feel like security. 

You sighed as you slipped on a sweatshirt and walked out of the attic— your room, at least for now— carefully moving down the steps in an effort to not make much noise. 

35 Portland Row was filled with warmth, that much was obvious from your short time here, but that warmth had not yet penetrated your skin. It was all too foreign. 

You meant to go to the kitchen and make a midnight cup of tea, but your eyes were drawn to a slightly open door, light spilling out in the cracks. The library, if you remembered correctly from Lockwood’s tour.

It must have been George. You didn’t know much about him, but the way Lockwood described him certainly made him seem like the type to be up pouring over books until the early hours of the morning.

It wouldn’t hurt to say hi. Let him know that they’d added another restless soul into their agency.

You pushed the door open a bit more, knocking on the wall as you leaned against the door frame, and your eyebrows rose slightly when the boy looked up. 

“Lockwood,” you said, tamping down on your surprise.

He said your name with a slight smile and a bow of his head. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You nodded. “Have you got room for one more?”

“Always,” he said with a gesture at the seat across from him. 

You closed the door behind you and took the offered chair, glancing down at the papers in front of him. “What’s got you up?”

“Bills,” he said dryly. “The mortgage, the utilities, our certification, and now—” he looked at you— “another agent on the payroll.”

“I’ll be sure to try and bring in more than you spend on me,” you said, and he smiled as he set his pen down. 

“How thoughtful.” Lockwood laced his fingers together before he leveled his gaze fully at you. “And what’s got you up?”

“Just what I said,” you answered with a shrug. “I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t gotten used to this place yet.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t take too long, because you’re going to hit the ground running,” Lockwood said. “We’ve got a meeting tomorrow with a client, and if all goes well we’ll be having tea with a Visitor by noon.”

“Honestly, that would make me feel like I fit in more,” you said. “I’m much better with the ‘nearly dying’ part of this job than the settling in part.”

He cracked a small smile. “I’m hoping we’ll avoid that part, especially with your help.”

Your eyebrows rose. “You’ve got that much faith in me?”

“I assumed you knew the amount of faith I have in you when I hired you,” Lockwood joked. “Your Touch is just what we’ve been missing.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me,” you said. “There’s always uncertainty about freelance agents because we work on our own, but I promise I’ll try my best to merge back into a group.”

“Like I said,” Lockwood’s eyes twinkled, “I’ve got full faith in you.”

You chuckled and nodded, and you tapped the desk before you stood up. “I’ll leave you to your devices. Thank you for the talk, Lockwood.”

“Try and get some sleep,” Lockwood said. “After all, tomorrow is when you prove yourself.”

“Ah,” you said sagely. “Tomorrow will determine whether I have a job or I’m back on the streets.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he said, and he looked wholly genuine. “You’re part of Lockwood & Co now, and we take care of our own.”

You nodded, your lips quirking into a small smile. It had been a long time since someone had so clearly said to you that they would watch out for you— that they saw you as more than just your Touch. 

“Thank you,” you said softly. 

Lockwood nodded, his expression turning slightly wry. “Besides, the only real reason I think I’d fire you is if you got us all killed.”

“You can’t fire me if we’re all dead.”

“I suppose that means you’re thoroughly employed,” Lockwood said with a smile. 

You chuckled. “Good to know.”

“Truly, though, try and get some sleep.” He picked up his pen again, clicking it a few times. “We might be London’s smallest agency, but we take cases the likes of Fittes would handle.”

“As long as you try and get some too,” you said.

Lockwood smiled, but there was a notable absence of a promise. “Goodnight.”

“Are you always in the library?” you asked suddenly. “Because I— I find myself awake a lot at night. It would be nice to know when you’re open to chat and when you just want to be alone.” 

He nodded. “I’ll leave the door open for you. Just like tonight.” 

You stared at him for a moment more, taking in his slightly ruffled hair, his undone tie and rolled up sleeves. The dark circles under his eyes. 

“Perfect,” you responded softly. “Goodnight, Lockwood.”

"Goodnight," he repeated, that same small smile on his lips.

You closed the door behind you.

You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. 

-

It was another two weeks until your next sleepless night. 

Kept busy with countless cases, you were exhausted near every time you stumbled back through the doors of Portland Row. Part of it was from adjusting back into an agency after being on your own for so long, the other part was the seriously intense jobs that Lockwood kept taking. 

And you did adjust, that was true. 

You didn’t know if you and George were exactly friends, but he allowed you to help when he cleaned up in the kitchen, and you’d already spent a few afternoons in the archives together—today had been the best, him sharing all the material he found with you and willing to listen to your theories and look at your notes. He was warming up to you, at least. 

Lockwood was completely different. He exuded charm, all easy smiles and plying words meant to get someone’s guard down. It was how he operated, how he had to live—everyone underestimated him so he took it upon himself to prove everyone wrong. His name was on the door, after all, as he liked to remind you all. 

Maybe that was why he was always up, you thought, because as you slowly moved down the stairs, rubbing grogginess out of your eyes, you noticed that the light was on in the library again. Door slightly cracked open. 

You huffed a laugh before you knocked on the frame again, pushing it open to see Lockwood in almost the exact same position as last time. Instead of a variety of papers, though, he was hunched over a map. 

He said your name, a small smile already pulling at his lips. “So we meet again.” 

“We live in the same house,” you said wryly, “and we work together.” 

“All the more reason to be thankful that you put up with me past billing hours,” Lockwood said. You chuckled, and he gestured at the chair across from him. “Take a seat.” 

You did, and you tapped your fingers on the table before you took a look at the map. “What’s got you up so late?” 

“I’m scouting out a potential job,” he said. “A very old, very haunted mansion owned by a very rich family.” 

“I like the sound of that,” you mused. 

“So do I.” That spark was in his eye again, and you found yourself watching him as he talked. “The patriarch called me last night, and I met with him and his wife while you and George were at the archives today. He offered the job of clearing his ancestral home, and I told him I would get back to him after I consulted my colleagues.” 

“Colleagues,” you hummed. “I like the sound of that too.” 

Lockwood chuckled. “I thought after freelancing for so long you would be against working so closely with a team.” 

You shrugged. “I needed a change. You lot have been a pretty good one.” 

“It’s certainly an honor,” Lockwood said with mock austerity, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh. 

“Just get on with it, Lockwood.” 

He nodded, and he pushed the map over to you. “I was going to lay it all out for you two tomorrow morning, but since you’re here, I might as well get your opinion on it.” 

You took a moment to fully examine it. “Well, it’s certainly very big.” You glanced back up at Lockwood. “How much are they willing to pay?” 

He smiled. “Fifty thousand pounds.” 

Your eyes about burst out of your head, and you slid the map back over to him. “That’s all I need to hear. I’m in.” 

Lockwood laughed and he took it back from you. “You don’t even know anything else about it. You could be walking into a death trap.” 

“Every job I did on my own was a possible death trap, and none of them were for fifty thousand pounds,” you said. “I’m in—I don’t care if half of England is haunting that house.” 

His smile faded a bit, and he cleared his throat as he looked you in the eye. “You know, you haven't talked much about why you were a freelance agent. Even during the interview.”

Your brows furrowed at the sudden question and you shrugged. “I wanted to be.” 

“Everyone knows it’s a lot more dangerous than being in an agency,” Lockwood said. “Ghosts are hard enough to deal with in a group— going on your own is asking for trouble.” 

“Before I came in, it was just you and George,” you countered. “You’ve got no supervisors, just the two of you hoping for the best. I’d say that’s asking for trouble.” 

“You’re deflecting,” Lockwood said. 

You glanced away, finally letting out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair.

“You don’t have to—” 

“Because from the moment I discovered my Talent, I’ve heard horror stories from agencies. Entire teams going down on doomed missions, sole survivors left to live with the guilt for the rest of their lives. It happened to one of the teams in my agency, and I knew I wasn’t going to wait for it to happen to me.”

Lockwood’s eyes softened, and he stayed silent as you continued. 

“I have no team, I have no roommates—when I’m on my own, no one has to worry about me,” you said quietly. “If something goes wrong, and I die, that’s it. No guilt, no problems, no legal trouble. No mourners.”

Lockwood frowned. “That’s not a very good way to look at it.”

“Never said it was,” you said wryly. “It’s just the way I look at it.” 

“Your family would care.” 

You shook your head. “They wouldn’t.”

He was silent for a good moment, and then he reached over and took your hand. It was a shock at first, your eyes widening slightly as they darted up to meet his, but he was calm as ever. 

“You’ve got us now,” he said. “Lockwood & Co. Me and George. And we’d care very much if you were to die, so I’d appreciate it if you refrained from that.” 

That got a watery laugh out of you, and you felt the beginnings of tears behind your eyes for some reason. “I don’t think that was in my contract.” 

“It was in the fine print,” Lockwood assured. He looked so much younger when he smiled, like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.  

“That changes everything then.” Your voice was slightly stilted as you pulled away, and you turned slightly as you wiped at your eyes so he couldn’t see. If Lockwood noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

“Try and get some sleep,” he murmured. “If George is on board, we’ve got a very long day tomorrow.” 

You nodded, clearing your throat as you stood up. “You too. Can’t go into battle without our fearless leader.” 

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes never leaving you as you walked to the door. You paused, setting your hand on the frame, and turned around. 

“Thank you, Lockwood,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I mean it.” 

He smiled, and you found yourself lost in it for a moment. He really was beautiful. “Any time.” 

-

And so your days continued on as a certified member of Lockwood & Co, becoming more integrated by the hour. 

It wasn’t much longer before George took to you, and when you found a break in a case that saved you hours of potential digging through the archives, your spot as ‘respected colleague and potential friend’ was cemented. 

Lockwood already knew more about you than most, putting him in the ‘weird friend, weird boss’ category. The man literally never slept, and all the information he knew about you was willingly given to him through late night vulnerability. You needed to start forcing yourself to stay in bed, if not solely to keep some secrets between you. 

But— yeah, he was nice. Easy to joke around with, easy to work with, easy on the eyes. You’d smiled and laughed more in a single month at Portland Row than you had in three years as a freelance agent. Far better than the lonely studio apartment you holed up in between cases. 

The warmth was beginning to penetrate your skin, you thought with a slight smile. 

“What in the world are you doing?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice. You looked up from the baking sheet to see Lockwood waiting in the doorway with a small smile.

“Stress baking,” you said with a slight chuckle as you continued scooping dough onto the tray.

“At two in the morning?”

You shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and extra research wasn’t doing me any good. I had to get the nerves out somehow, and unless I fancied a nice bout with a Visitor, I couldn’t exactly go for a run.”

“So you decided on cookies instead,” he said wryly. “You know, you really should try and get more sleep.”

“Says you.” You finished filling up the tray and you picked it up, glancing at Lockwood as you walked over to the oven. “Every night that I’m up, you’re up too. That’s got to be unhealthy.”

“I’m a busy man,” he responded. “I can’t have half of my employees running around sleep deprived.”

You chuckled. “Good to know you care.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Always.” 

“But you have to care about yourself, too.” You shut the oven and set a timer on your watch, then gestured at the counter where an already finished tray sat. “Try one.”

“Sugar so close to bed?” he joked.

“Oh, please,” you brushed your hand through the air, “we both know you’re not falling asleep any time soon.”

Lockwood cracked a smile as he walked over, picking up a cookie from the sheet. “Chocolate chip?”

“The best,” you confirmed.

He took a bite and he hummed as his eyebrows rose. “Surprisingly good,” he said after he swallowed.

“‘Surprisingly’?” you repeated. “Why can’t they just be normally good?”

“You may have noticed, but George is our resident chef.” Lockwood finished the rest of the cookie, much to your silent delight, and he went to the fridge. “I’m just surprised we’ve got two culinary experts on the team now.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “I’m not anywhere near an expert. I’m much better at baking than cooking, so George has that market cornered.”

Lockwood smiled, and he finished his cup of water. “He’ll be happy to know that. He’d probably love to share some of his recipes with you.”

“I’d love that more,” you said. “His halva the other day was incredible.”

“I’ll let him know. Of course,” his eyes twinkled, “he’d probably be more flattered if you told him yourself. If there’s one thing he’s prouder of than his work in the archives, it’s his work in the kitchen.” 

“I’ll be sure to,” you agreed. 

“Are you going to sleep anytime soon?” Lockwood asked as usual. 

As usual, you rolled your eyes, bit back your smile. “I’ve got two more trays worth of dough. I promise I’ll go after they’re done.” 

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Do you also promise to leave some for us?” 

You laughed. “Of course. I didn’t make them just for stress relief, you know.” 

“Good,” Lockwood repeated. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. The later morning, rather.” 

“You get some sleep too,” you said, pointing your spatula at him, “or else all of these are going to George.” 

He placed his fist over his chest. “Cross my heart.” 

“Good. Now get out of here.” 

Lockwood chuckled as he walked out, spurring a smile of your own. You picked up a cookie and took a bite, humming in approval at the taste. 

“Normally good,” you murmured to yourself as you watched the oven. “Not surprisingly good.” 

-

(When Lockwood came down the next morning, there were two plates of cookies sitting on the counter. He moved to take one, but then he noticed the Post-its. 

One read GEORGE and one read LOCKWOOD, each in front of their own separate plates. There was another at the top—NO STEALING :) or I will never make cookies again 

He chuckled, his mind wandering to you as he finally took one—from his plate, of course—and bit into it. 

Normally good, he thought with a slight smile. 

A fine addition to the team indeed.)

-

You yawned as you walked down the hallway, rubbing at your groggy eyes. You couldn’t sleep, as was per usual when you were working on such a big case, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. 

Your mind ran a thousand kilometers a minute any time you even tried to close your eyes. Truly, you had no idea how George functioned with a brain like his. 

You were about to go into the kitchen to make yourself your usual midnight cup of tea, hoping it would work its usual magic, when you saw the door to the library cracked open. 

You couldn’t help but smile. He’d told you and George to go to bed early to make sure you were all ready for the job the next day, and here he was. Restless as ever and still a liar. 

You pushed the door the rest of the way open, blinking a bit at the lights as you leaned against the frame. “Up late again, Lockwood?” you asked, and he started when he turned to you and said your name. 

“You should be asleep,” he said.

“So should you.” 

“I’m looking over the floorplans one last time,” Lockwood said. “This place is huge, and I want to make sure I know every part of it.” 

“We’ve drilled the exits a thousand times,” you said. “We already know the mansion inside out—cramming at midnight isn’t going to help anyone. Actually being rested for once will.” 

Lockwood gave you a wry look. “Awfully strong words coming from you.” 

“I was going to the kitchen to make some tea,” you defended. “And then I was going to go right back to sleep.” 

He smiled as he looked at you, and then he nodded and stood up. “Alright. Come on.” 

You raised your eyebrows as Lockwood started walking, and then he took your hand and started pulling you along. 

“Oh my god,” you said with a laugh, “I can walk on my own.” 

All he said was, “I know,” in that annoyingly cocky tone of his, and you continued following him as you went up the stairs. When he pulled open the door of his room, you 

“Neither of us are very good at staying asleep,” Lockwood said wryly, “and I really don’t trust you to get enough in the face of tomorrow. So…” 

“You think sleeping in the same bed will help,” you surmised. 

He shrugged. “At the very least, I’ll be able to make sure you do fall asleep.” 

“Then the same goes for you.” 

“Obviously.” 

You stared at him for a moment. You didn’t exactly… know what to do. 

The words rushed out of his mouth. “Of course if you don’t want to—” 

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “No, it’s alright. I want to.” 

His lips quirked into a smile. “Alright.” 

You pulled back the covers, clearing your throat as you took your side and Lockwood took his after turning the lamp off. You didn’t know why this was so awkward, sharing a bed with the boy you’d worked with for the past few months, but it was. You’d faced down countless ghosts together, but this was apparently too much. 

“Your bed’s comfortable,” you said, desperate to break the silence. You stared at his wall, your back turned to him, Lockwood in the same position. 

“Thanks.”

“I don’t know how you’re ever not sleeping through the night with a mattress like this.” 

Lockwood chuckled. “Sight isn’t my only talent.” 

You smiled. “Very true.” 

“Why are you always up?” he asked. “I know my old bed isn’t the most comfortable, but it seems you’re always up.” 

“It seems you’re always up.” 

“Deflecting,” he said. Your mind flashed back to the first night in the library. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’ve always been a restless person, but being an agent has just… worsened it. I had a couple of bad months working on my own and I don’t think I’ve fully recovered.” 

“Ah.” You could feel his breathing in the slight shifts of the bed, and it was oddly comforting. “I hope that we haven’t made it worse.” 

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “If anything, you’ve made it better. Portland Row is the embodiment of warmth, and you two are fantastic.” 

“Well, we aren’t going anywhere,” Lockwood assured. “...I’m not going anywhere. So if you ever need anything, please tell us.”  

Your voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Thank you.” 

“Always.” 

-

Your sleepless nights varied in frequency as the months went on. 

Sometimes you were so exhausted when you staggered through the doors of Portland Row that you felt as if you could sleep the night away on the couch. Other times, despite being worked to the bone from a difficult job, you would find yourself staring up at the ceiling of your room, unable to get the visions from the day out of your head. 

That was the lovely thing about Touch. The way you saw it, you gave a small part of yourself over each time you used it, and once you got it back, the things you’d seen were embedded in it—in you. It was awfully difficult to separate yourself from your jobs when you threw yourself so fully into it, when you had no other choice but to do so. 

Lockwood and George had become accustomed to how deep you felt things. When you needed to be alone after a job, when you needed one of them to talk nonstop to keep you distracted, when you just needed to sit with them in silence and be assured that this too would pass, no matter how slow. That was the nicest thing about being part of the group—you didn’t have to lick your wounds on your own.  

When it got really bad—and sometimes it did—you and Lockwood would share his room. His presence was unparalleled in bringing you comfort, and whispered conversations in the dark made you feel some sort of way. He was practically your savior. 

When he wasn’t helping you through the night, more often than not, Lockwood would be up at the same hour as you. It was concerning, though you couldn’t say anything about it. He would just throw it back at you, claiming you should be asleep as well. At least George was exempt from the criticism. Bless him. 

He found you in a lot of positions. Sitting on the floor of the kitchen scrubbing furiously at the plasm stains on your boots. Sitting on the floor of their living room, one of their case files in your lap as you recounted a previous case. Sitting on the floor of the basement, measuring out salt for bombs and ensuring their flares were stocked. You liked sitting on the floor while you did things, apparently—Lockwood had figured that out after a few weeks of sleepless nights. It was strange. 

And of course, the occasional bout of stress baking, ranging from cookies to brownies to pastries and more. You once even baked an entire cake in the middle of the night out of pure anger, the result of a frustrating loss to a Fittes team. Not getting the case hurt a little bit less the next morning when you all had cake to dull the pain. 

You found him just as many times. Sometimes getting his own cups of tea in the kitchen, sometimes reading those gossip magazines he was fond of, sometimes doing his own restocks of your supplies. Usually, though, he was just sitting in the library stressed over one thing or another.

You noticed he always tried to hide it from you, covering it with his easy smiles and well-placed jokes. It couldn’t be easy to run an agency as a teenager, no matter how small—you wondered how many restless evenings you would have to share together for him to drop the mask. 

Eventually, though, it was decided that another agent was needed. Lockwood and his Sight, you and your Touch, George as an all-arounder—he was your only source for Listening, but it had never been his strong suit. After you nearly got ghost-touched because of that blatant lack of Listening, Lockwood put his foot down and put out an ad. 

Enter one Lucy Carlyle: excellent Listener, skilled in Touch, a myriad of opinions. You liked her the moment you met her, her image only sullied by her taking two biscuits. You could hardly blame her though, the way George pushed her. He loved to push. 

Due to a lack of rooms but an imminent need for Talent, it was decided that Lucy would room in the attic with you. You were able to get one of the spare beds all the way up to the attic between the four of you, and when you all promptly collapsed on the ground together, it was agreed upon that Lockwood & Company would stick to ghosts. Very good for team bonding, though. 

It took Lucy a bit to get used to you, especially in such close quarters, but soon enough you were joking around and talking like you’d known each other for years. You knew she was good, but witnessing her listening was awe-inspiring. You almost couldn’t believe you’d gotten her over Fittes or Atkinson and Armstrong, but you weren’t going to complain. You felt as if your motley crew could do anything. 

“I can’t believe he did this,” you seethed. 

Well, there were certain things your motley crew did not need to do. Especially your leader. 

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Lucy said. 

“I can’t believe he did this!” you repeated, louder and more annoyed as you threw yourself against the wall. “How stupid can one boy be?” 

“He was trying to save you, y’know,” Lucy said dryly. 

“I didn’t need to be saved,” you grumbled. “He did it because he’s reckless and stupid.” 

“...That’s fair,” Lucy said after a moment. “He is quite reckless.” 

“Don’t forget stupid.” 

Her lips twitched for a moment. “Perhaps you shouldn’t speak ill of the injured.” 

“That’s just the dead,” you muttered. “And we speak plenty of ill of them.” 

This was all because of a job that went wrong. And you were certain it wouldn’t have gone wrong if Lockwood could hold himself back for a moment. 

-

“Are you sure that’s him?” you murmured, disguising your words with your cup of sparkling cider. 

“Positive,” Lockwood confirmed. “Arthur Torres, one of Sunrise Corporation’s many useless executives.” 

“Lovely.” You finished your drink. “I distract and you steal, right?” 

“Actually,” Lockwood said, and you didn’t like that at all, “you steal, I distract.” 

Your brows furrowed. “That wasn’t the plan.” 

“I make the plans,” he said, “I can change them.” 

“Not when we spend hours going over them to ensure they’re flawless,” you said tartly. 

“Relax.” He smiled at you, and somehow it managed to carve through your irritation. He slipped the keycard out of his pocket and pressed it into your hand. “I’m very good at improvising.” 

“Lockw—” You didn’t have the chance to chastise him the way he deserved before he slipped off, a very convenient waiter filling the space he left before you could dart after him. You scoffed as you placed your empty glass on their tray, your eyes narrowed as you glared at Lockwood from beyond. 

He paid no attention to you, not until he made the signal. He ‘accidentally’ bumped into Mr. Torres, spilling his wine all over his jacket, and before the first apology could fall from his lips, you were gone. 

You muttered curses under your breath the entire way, slipping past guards and security the best you could on the way to the stairwell. You took them two at a time as you hurried to the fourth floor, and though you were completely out of breath by the time you made it, you were pleased that there were no guards. George said he would have the security cameras disabled before you got there, so you just had to trust in him. 

You continued to take in and let out deep breaths as you walked up to the door, and they turned into a sigh of relief when you scanned the keycard and it opened. You heard footsteps behind you and whirled around, your hand flying on instinct for the rapier that wasn’t there, and your eyes widened yet again when you saw it was Lockwood. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed. 

He held up his hands in defense, as he stopped jogging, and then he brushed out the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “I came to help you.” 

“You’re meant to be distracting Mr. Torres,” you said incredulously. “Lockwood, do you even care for the sanctity of plans?” 

“I care about your safety,” he said, calm in the face of your anger. “That’s why I’m here.” 

“And where is he? Hopefully not in reach of his various guards that could ruin us and our careers at any second.” 

“I left him in the washroom,” Lockwood said. “How are you doing?” 

You set your jaw, and you sighed as you gestured with your head into the now-open office. “Let’s just find this source so we can get out of here.” 

Now came the not-so-legal part, that some may even call theft. Lockwood called it discreetly fixing mistakes, you called it your shoddy morals. Not that you were torn up about stealing from an executive businessman, you just didn’t particularly fancy losing your license over it. 

A rich family had hired Lockwood & Co to find and return a source that was important to their family, and of course it was housed by Mr. Torres of the Sunrise Corporation. You’d no idea what it was with wealthy people and their flaunting of sources, but you’d had enough of it. They paid handsomely for the risk though, hence your shoddy morals. 

This, honestly, was the easy part. You touched a few things, concentrated until your head hurt, and it led you right to it. Quite disappointing—you didn’t know why the Paladinos would keep a paperweight in the family, and more importantly how it came about to be a source, but that didn’t really matter. It sat on Torres’s desk, surrounded by Sunrise Corporation silver-glass, and just for extra measure Lockwood put it into a metal box of your own. You shoved it into your backpack, and the job was halfway done. 

The other half was getting out without being spotted. 

The two of you worked quickly to erase all traces of your being there, and soon enough you were hurrying through the halls together. 

“That was good work.” 

You ignored him. 

“The Paladinos’ money will do a lot of good for us.” 

You ignored him.

“Seriously. You work well on the fly.” 

“We shouldn’t have had to work on the fly,” you finally said bitterly. 

“Why are you so mad?” Lockwood asked with a slight laugh. God, his nerve. “It all worked out. We’ve got the source, we’ll get the payment, and we didn’t even have to deal with any Visitors. Torres is still clueless.” 

“That’s not the point, Lockwood,” you hissed. You forced your expression back into neutrality as you walked out of the stairwell and back into the midst of the party, and you and Lockwood moved at a normal pace. He offered occasional smiles and nods to people in the crowd, and you both nodded at the guards at the exit when you left. 

You couldn’t even relish in your victory, because once you’d gotten out of hearing distance, around the corner where no guards or partygoers could see or hear you, Lockwood stopped you. 

“What is the point then?” he asked. “If none of what I said is the point, then what is the point?” 

“The point is that you don’t trust me!” you exclaimed. 

He immediately frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Why did you even follow me in the first place?” you asked. “It was your decision to switch it up at the last moment, and you couldn’t even follow through with that?” 

Lockwood didn’t say anything, and you shook your head. 

“You don’t trust me,” you repeated quietly. 

He said your name then, a slightly wild look in his eyes as he turned to you. “That’s not it.” 

“It is.” A muscle worked in your jaw. “Because if you thought I could do it, you would have let me do it instead of risking both of our lives. You wouldn’t have switched our roles in the first place.” 

“Torres was suspicious,” he insisted. “He— he was saying things, talking about how he had to make his guards check on his office. He’s a paranoid man, and you could have been in much more danger if I hadn’t abandoned him.” 

“That is bullshit!” you exclaimed. “God, it was your bloody idea in the first place! Is it suddenly not good enough? Am I not good enough?” 

“That is not what this is about,” Lockwood snapped. 

“Then what is it about?” you marveled. “Why did you switch roles in the first place? You’ve told me I could talk my way out of anything, but when the time comes, you shake things up for no reason. For no reason, Lockwood.” 

“People know my face better than they know yours,” Lockwood said. “Torres was more willing to talk with the head of a rising agency, you were able to slip around easier because of who you are.” 

“Why didn’t you think of that before we were in the thick of it all?” you asked incredulously, and you laughed. “I’ve saved your life multiple times, Lockwood, and you’ve done the same for me. You talk me up all the time to my face, saying I’m what this agency was missing, that I’m part of your family, that— that you’ll never let me go. But that’s all it is, isn’t it?” A shaky smile formed for just a moment before it broke. “Just talk.” 

Lockwood said your name desperately, but you shook your head. “No. Justify it however you want, but you nearly sabotaged the entire job just because you didn’t have enough faith in me. That’s it.”

“I’m telling you, that’s not it.” He let out a ragged sigh, running a distressed hand through his hair, when he suddenly froze. 

“Good evening, sir!” he called, confident as ever, like your argument hadn’t just happened. “We’re just—” 

His voice broke off mid sentence, and then he yelled your name. You whirled around.  

It was a guard, and he was armed. He must have spotted you when you were leaving the office, or maybe George had missed a camera and he’d seen your thievery—there were about a thousand things that could have gone wrong. For a split second, you stared down the barrel of the gun. Funny how you’d stared down what felt like hundreds of ghosts, and a bit of metal was what had you frozen. 

The guard pulled the trigger. 

Lockwood lunged. 

You screamed. 

-

“He’s lucky DEPRAC didn’t find the source in my bag,” you muttered. “They already interrogated me to hell and back while he was in the hospital. Luckily, it usually doesn’t look too good when an adult shoots a teenager and can hardly defend himself against it.” 

“The bloke deserved to be fired,” Lucy said. “A paperweight is certainly not worth shooting someone over.” 

“And it’s certainly not worth getting shot for,” you added. 

“It’s kind of funny,” Lucy said offhandedly. “He’s the one that got shot for you, and yet he’s apologizing to you.” 

“Because it’s his fault that he got us in that situation in the first place!” you exclaimed. You winced as your words sunk in, and you looked over at Lucy. “That was too harsh, wasn’t it?” 

“...A bit,” she admitted. 

You sighed dramatically and hit your head against the side of the wall. “I’m acting like a child.” 

“A bit.” 

“I just don’t know how he expects me to face him,” you said. “I’ve been working with him for the better part of a year, and somehow he still doesn’t trust me.” 

“I… don’t think that’s it,” Lucy said. 

“How could it not be it?” you said. “He wouldn’t have acted like he did if he trusted me.” 

She shrugged. “Have you thought that it’s because he cares about you?” 

“He cares about all of us, Luce.” 

“He cares about you more,” she said plainly. “In a different way.” 

Your head whipped towards her, and you stared at her for a good five seconds. “You are not saying what I think you’re saying.” 

“If you think I’m saying it, it’s for good reason,” she said. 

“We are colleagues,” you said slowly. “Nothing less, nothing more.” 

Lucy said your name with a slight laugh. “He took a bullet for you.” 

“He shuffled our assignments because he didn’t trust me,” you said. 

“He shuffled your assignments because he was worried about you,” she countered. “He didn’t want you with Torres because if you were found out, Lockwood didn’t want him to remember your face. And he abandoned his post because he was worried about you, that something would go wrong and he wouldn’t be there to help.” 

You stared at her before you continued your pacing. “You’re insane. You’re kicked out of the agency.” 

“I’m right,” she said wryly. “And may I remind you again that he took a bloody bullet for you?” 

“I’ve already given him that,” you said. “I lost my damn mind when it happened—almost tore the guard apart with my bare hands. I freaked out the entire way to the hospital with him.” 

“And now you’re almost completely ignoring him,” Lucy said. “Face it: you like him. You just don’t want to admit it because it would mean having an actual conversation with him about it all rather than pacing a hole in the floor.” 

“You’re wrong.” You huffed and leaned back against the wall. “You’re wrong.” 

Lucy sighed and she offered a faint smile as she stood up. “You take some time to realize all this. I’m stealing George for an Arif’s run.” 

“Leaving us alone,” you said flatly, staring ahead as she walked out. “You’re not clever, Lucy Carlyle!”

“Thank you!” she called with a laugh, and you hit your head against the wall once more when she closed the door behind her. 

Sometimes you really hated your friends. 

-

It wasn’t like you were avoiding Lockwood. That would be cruel. 

Stupid as he was, he got shot, and he got shot for you. Avoiding him would be ridiculous. 

You were just… strategically not talking to him. 

And that was arguably worse, yes, letting him see you but not deigning to say a single thing to him that wasn’t business related. 

It was even worse than worse because you’d inadvertently proven Lucy right. If this were any normal annoyance between friends, like the squabbles you and George were prone to or the bouts that your boys got into over patience and its virtues, it wouldn’t be this strong. 

You’d held grudges against Lockwood before. When he forgot to soak your boots overnight so you had to go into an important job with plasm stains, when he ate the strawberry sprinkled donut just to spite you, when you and George were still in rocky territory and he made you marathon the archives with him for nine hours straight. 

All of those, annoying as they were, were forgiven rather quickly. And yes, maybe this grudge was especially strong because of the severity of his injury, but… 

You could admit it. Normal people didn’t hold grudges over their best friend throwing themselves in front of them to prevent them from getting shot. Normal people were thankful. Normal people could talk about their feelings when they realized it was the reason for their strife. 

You, apparently, were not normal. And neither was anyone in this bloody agency, because nobody deigned to make it any easier for you.

Perhaps it was a bit stupid on your part, but you walked down to the kitchen anyway. You needed some tea to clear your mind. Instead, you were met with a half-shirtless Lockwood. 

“Ah,” he said your name, looking up from his spot against the counter, “nice of you to finally grace me with your presence.” 

“What are you doing?” you asked. It was almost embarrassing—you were meant to be holding a grudge and ignoring your feelings, and instead you were staring at him like a girl in primary school. Remarkable how quickly you forgot your objectives. 

“The doctor said I had to redress my wound every day for the first week,” he said. “Lucy and George just went out, so I figured I would do it now.” 

Your brows furrowed. “How do you feel?” 

“Better now that you’re here,” he said. Lucy’s words pounded in your ears. “I don’t think you avoiding me is good for my health.” 

You bit your lip and remained silent. Rocky territory, this was. 

“It’s alright if you just want to stand there.” Lockwood grimaced a bit as he pressed the alcohol-soaked pad to his wound. “Moral support is very helpful.” 

Remarkable how quickly the dam broke. You sighed and closed the distance, holding out your hand when you stopped a few meters in front of him. “Give it to me.” 

Lockwood’s eyebrows rose. 

“Give it to me,” you repeated. “I’ve dealt with many of my own wounds over the years. It’ll be a lot faster if I do it for you.” 

His lips quirked into a slight smile as he handed the cloth over. “This is better than moral support.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” You couldn’t help the small smile of your own as you started to dab at the surrounding blood on his chest, innately aware of your proximity but trying your best to ignore it. “This doesn’t look too bad, honestly.” 

“I was shot,” he said dryly. “I think I deserve a few style points for that.” 

“You’ve already earned them all, Lockwood.” 

“That makes sense.” You felt his eyes on you as you continued to work, pointedly ignoring his gaze. “You know, they didn’t take the bullet out. Said it would be worse to take it out, and it’s not causing any problems inside. So I’ve got a bullet in me now.” 

Your brows furrowed. “Interesting.” 

“Indeed. I’ll be going off in airports for the rest of my life.” 

Your fingers hovered over his chest for a moment, and you pulled away with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

It was his turn to frown. “What for?” 

“For—” you let out another sigh, rougher this time. “For this.” 

“It wasn’t your fault I got shot,” he said. “I quite clearly remember pushing you out of the way.” 

“I know,” you said. “I— I am quite sorry that you got shot, though.” 

“Obviously,” he said coyly, and you let out a breathy laugh. 

“I’m sorry for this grudge. It’s probably the stupidest out of all the ones I’ve held against you so far.” 

“George keeps a running list,” Lockwood said. “I’m sure we can figure that out.” 

“I’m serious.” Your hand lingered on Lockwood’s chest for a moment, his body warmth almost shocking, before you set the cloth down on the counter. You started to put a fresh bandage on, but you finally mustered the strength to look at him. “I was so upset at the thought that you didn’t trust me because your opinion means a lot to me, Lockwood. The way you think of me means a lot to me.” You cleared your throat, averting your eyes for a moment. “You mean a lot to me.” 

Lockwood gently tipped your chin back towards him, your eyes meeting his. He really was beautiful—eyes that were softer than ever, his tousled hair, the slope of his jaw. Slightly chapped lips, the bags under his eyes that seemed to be permanent, the weight of the world on his shoulders that seemed to diminish ever so slightly when you were around. 

Your Lockwood. 

“You mean a lot to me as well,” he said. “Why do you think I reassigned us last minute? Why do you think I took a bullet for you?” 

“Because you’re a reckless idiot?” 

“Because I panic around you,” he said, “in addition to being a reckless idiot. Whenever we’re on a job, half of my mind is focused on ghosts, and the other half is making sure nothing happens to you. You drive me the best kind of insane.” 

You couldn’t help but stare at him. You wanted to kiss him more than anything, to root your hands in that tousled hair and make it an even bigger mess. You wanted to make him realize he didn’t have to worry about you, because you weren’t going anywhere without him. 

The words stuck in your throat. You finished applying his bandage, and you took a step away.

“Thank you,” you said. 

He didn’t look angry or annoyed or irritated—he understood. He understood you. 

“Always.” 

And it was as simple as that. 

-

It wasn’t really a surprise you couldn’t sleep that night. You hadn’t exactly talked to Lockwood since your show of emotion in the kitchen, embarrassing as it was. You made Lucy check downstairs before you went down for supper, and that was just so you could make the quickest sandwich of your life and immediately hurry back upstairs. 

Pathetic, really. You mustered the strength to tell the boy you liked him, he returned it, you ran off and locked yourself in the attic. 

And it wasn’t because it was too much. You just… you didn’t know. You might’ve driven Lockwood insane, but he turned you into a complete idiot. It was ridiculous. And you were not ridiculous. 

So when night rolled around, when Lucy and George were sound asleep and the ghost lamps flickered on every three minutes and you had only the owls outside your window for company, you knew what you were going to do. 

You threw on your sweatshirt, carefully padded across the floor and out the door so as to not wake Lucy, and you went down the stairs. 

Surprisingly, you’d never felt calmer. 

The light was on in the library. The door was slightly pushed open, the nondescript act that had turned into a beacon for the two of you. 

You knocked on the wall before you pushed the door open some more, not waiting for an answer as you leaned against the doorframe. 

Lockwood sat in his armchair, a magazine half open but neglected on his lap. His eyes shined the moment you stepped inside. 

“Got room for one more?” you asked softly.

Lockwood’s shoulders relaxed, his throat bobbing for a moment before that damn smile pulled at his lips.

“Always.”

[varpusvaras]

Breha confided in Visaiya first.

Visaiya had already heard about Bail's sudden call, as it had very much interrupted the proceedings before, and she was anxious to hear what Bail had to say.

"Was everything alright?" She asked, once they were in the privacy of Breha's office.

"Bail has found his other soulmate", Breha told her.

Visaiya had just sat down, and she jumped right back up.

"Are you serious?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Who is it?"

"We are not entirely sure yet", Breha answered. "But it seems that it was one of the clones in the Coruscant Guard."

Visaiya drew back a little.

"Well, that is a development for sure", she said. "How can you not be sure yet? There needs to be a point of connection, after all."

"Bail talked with several of them", Breha said. "He is going to talk to the Commander of the Guard, as he was with the troopers as well. If it really is one of his men, he needs to know, too."

Visaiya nodded, clearly thinking.

"What about the Commander himself?" She asked. "Did Bail talk with him?"

"I am not sure", Breha said. "Possibly. He was a bit surprised by the whole thing. It was sudden, after all, and it has been so long since we got our marks."

She looked down on her hand, at the two flowers on her skin. One on the left, one on the right, with just enough space between them for a third.

Sometimes it just takes time, her grandmother had said, and Breha was starting to understand now how truly correct she had been about everything.

There had been no way for anyone to predict something like this happening.

"What about you?" Visaiya asked. "When are you going to Coruscant?"

Right. If Bail had found his soulmate, one that shared the mark with them...it stood to reason that perhaps, he would be Breha's soulmate as well.

It made her nervous, in a way that waiting to find her soulmate for the first time around had not. She had met Bail without knowing that he shared the mark with her at first. Now she knew there was someone there, someone who she didn't yet know, but who she knew shared a connection with her, a connection much deeper than either of them could understand.

Breha had wanted a soulmate. She had craved that connection, that familiarity and belonging.

If someone was meant to have that connection with her, she would never deprave them of that.

"Clear my schedule for the rest of the week", she told Visaiya. "I'll be going as soon as Bail has some news for me."

--- ---

Bail called her the next evening.

"I didn't have to ask around for long", he told her. "The Commander seemed to expect me to arrive."

"He had already heard about it, then?" Breha asked, carefully. Either the Commander had heard about it, or-

"Certainly", Bail said. "It is him."

Breha left for Coruscant the next morning.

--- ---

Commander Fox was a notable man.

Breha wasn't sure how else she should've described him when she saw him for the first time in person. She had seen him, before, of course, having received glimpses of him through Bail before this.

He was notable in a way that Breha couldn't help but notice him. He stood tall, with his shoulders resting in perfect attention, and the deep red of his armor making him immediately stand out from his surroundings, like a painting on a white gallery wall.

The most notable thing about him, though, was his face.

Breha had not seen his face before. She had seen the armor and everything else, but not his face. He had his helmet on when Breha stepped inside Bail's office, and his eyes, soft and deep dark brown, immediately moved to her, giving her their whole attention. There was something in his eyes that Breha couldn't quite make out, something well guarded.

"Good afternoon", Breha greeted him. "Commander Fox."

Commander Fox bowed down his head.

"Good afternoon", he greeted her back. "Your Majesty."

When he straightened his back and lifted his eyes back to Breha's, she felt it. The familiar feeling of blooming underneath her skin.

There was no doubt of it then.

Breha smiled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you", she said. "I feel like we have a lot to talk about."

She gave her hand to him, and she saw his eyes glance towards the mark on her wrist.

The mark, that now bore three flowers, the one in the middle interlocking all three of them together.

His fingers on his left hand clenched briefly, before he gave her his hand as well.

"It seems so", he said.

--- ---

Commander Fox was a notable man.

He was very intelligent, that Breha noticed right away. He chose his words well, and was always watching attentively for every movement either Breha or Bail made, continuously reading the room around him.

He reminded Breha of Bail, a little, when he was in the middle of a Senate session or even a debate of any sort.

"We were not ever really explained the meaning of the marks", he told them, sitting on the edge of the office couch with his back straight and his hands resting on his lap. "The Kaminoans left any further cultural education for our trainers. They taught us that the marks are a private matter, and shouldn't be shown to outsiders. No further education on to what outsiders exactly meant. I am guessing now, that it means anyone who doesn't have the matching marks."

He knew what the marks were, now, as it had been impossible to not notice them while on Coruscant, surrounded by millions of beings.

"I am not sure about how to proceed", he said, at the end of it, and then sat there quietly, waiting for either of them to move the discussion forward.

He definitely reminded Breha of Bail.

"We will proceed however you like", Bail said diplomatically. "Soulmarks are a mark of a connection. It is entirely up to you what type of connection you wish to have."

Commander Fox gave them a wary look at that point.

"You two are married", he said, his tone free of accusations, but the words themselves made his message clear.

"We got to know each other first", Breha said. "We didn't get married the moment we learned we shared a mark. He is one of my best friends, and I wanted to have him sharing my life and duty. Marriage was the best suited option for us."

Commander Fox nodded, slowly, comtemplating his next move.

"I am not comfortable with acting upon any meaning yet", he said. He didn't sound harsh when he said it, even though he was speaking firmly. It was an opening, even if it was a small one.

"That is more than understandable", Bail said. "We do not wish to force you into anything. A soulmate is not supposed to be chain, nor the mark a brand."

Commander Fox was quiet for a moment.

"Can I ask one question, then?" He asked.

"Of course", Breha said. "Anything you want."

"Why was it important for you to come here, Your Majesty?" He asked, looking at Breha. "I already received one mark. If you do not wish to force me into anything, was it necessary for me to receive the second one as well?"

It was a fair question.

"I came here partly because I wished to see if you'd be my soulmate as well, yes", Breha said. "I did not wish to potentially deprave you of a connection, either. I came here partly because you are my husband's soulmate, and even if you didn't share a connection with me, you would still be a part of my life as well, regardless. I wanted to extend that knowledge to you as well."

Commander Fox nodded once again. His eyes glanced towards Bail, to see his reaction, and when there was none too large, his eyes returned to Breha.

"I do accept this connection", he said. "I wish you accept my will for it to remain a private matter."

"Of course", Breha said. "Currently only us three, and my closest advisor know about this. It will not spread any further against your wishes."

"Thank you", Commander Fox said. There was a brief spout of contemplative silence once again, before he spoke. "I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to know who shared a mark with me, but if it had to be anyone, I am grateful for it to be you. You have always been respectful of me and my brothers."

They were kind words. Another small opening, though Breha could sense that they were aimed more towards Bail.

"We appreciate your admission", Bail said, clearly sensing the same as Breha. "It is the respect you and your brothers are entitled to, though I understand why it seems like an act you ought to feel grateful for."

"We are not entitled to anything", Commander Fox said. "We are here to serve the Republic. That is our duty."

"It is a great duty", Bail said. "One that you are doing admirably. You are still all people, and you are entitled to be treated as such."

Breha saw how Commander Fox's jaw clenched, ever so slightly. Otherwise, his expression didn't change.

She wondered if he had ever heard anyone say those words to him while looking him in the eyes, without the helmet in between.

"The Republic disagrees", he said. It was a firm statement, said with conviction.

"The Republic is wrong in many cases", Bail said. "No system is ever flawless. That doesn't mean the good parts are not worth being heralded. I serve the Republic, too, and I am serving it by trying to make it a better place for us all, and that includes you and your brothers."

"There is a war to be won", Commander Fox said. "And it is not won by being nice."

"It is not", Bail agreed. "But it is also not won by sacrificing everything for one goal."

That answer seemed to satisfy Commander Fox, or at least it gave him something more to think about. Breha had never really enjoyed politics as themselves too much, but she had to admit that she had found the conversation in front of her fascinating.

Commander Fox was a notable man even with his helmet on, and even more so without it.

"We all serve the Republic", Breha said, making Commander Fox's attention snap back to her. "We all serve the people in it. We are all making sacrifices, some of us bigger than others. I do believe that you and your brothers are making the greatest sacrifice of them all. Even if you do not think of yourself being entitled to the respect that belongs to every person, I wish that you would at the very least believe in the respect that belongs to you for that. I wish to pay my respects for you and your brothers and on your sacrifice, no matter for how noble of a cause it is. We all serve the Republic, but let us also serve you in return."

Commander Fox leaned back ever so slightly on his seat. He looked a bit surprised, if Breha had to determine his emotions from his expression.

"Do you believe that necessary?" He asked her. He did sound accusing this time, though Breha couldn't blame him for it. She was contesting his entire reason for his existence, after all.

"I do", she said. "What does it say about us all, if we would be comfortable with accepting your sacrifice without graditute? What else would we be comfortable accepting then?"

Commander Fox looked at her for a moment. Breha didn't turn to look away. If he was resolute, so was she. There were things she could not or would not compromise upon, and he could accept them or not, and Breha would accept his decision, not change hers. Not on this.

Finally, Commander Fox seemed to come into decision.

"We all serve the Republic", he said. "I will serve it by fighting for it, and you will serve it by upholding it."

"Yes", Bail said. "This war will not make the Republic into a place where it is acceptable to shed blood to bind the foundations of it together."

"On that we can all agree, then", Commander Fox said. "My brothers will not die in vain."

"They will not", Breha promised. "I promise that with my integrity as a Queen. And I will promise you, as your soulmate, that I shall do the best by you."

"I promise you the same", Bail said. "I swear on it, as I swore to be a Senator and seek for the betterment of us all, and I swear to you, as your soulmate, to be what you need me to be for you."

Commander Fox looked at them, his mouth opening once but his voice remaining quiet. He looked conflicted, Breha thought, but that only lasted for a brief moment.

It was replaced then with another resolution, but there was a shadow of resignation on his face, too.

"My place is with my brothers", he said. "I cannot promise you the same."

"That is alright", Breha said. "Like I said, we will serve you all, as you serve the Republic. Take this as part of our service, for you."

Commander Fox relaxed, ever so slightly, like he was relieved. Breha didn't blame him, as she could imagine, had it been her there instead of him, she would've definitely been relieved.

"Thank you", Commander Fox said. Breha smiled at him.

"We should be thanking you", she said. "It has been wonderful to meet you."

She meant it. Commander Fox was a notable man. Intelligent, loyal, dutiful. It the Force had made it's decision to give Breha and Bail a connection to him, she would serve that will to its fullest.

For Commander Fox himself, and for all of his brothers. There was no singling him out, not when he shared his place and fate with them all.

Breha would serve him, and she would serve them all.

"The pleasure has been all mine", Commander Fox said, polite and mellow, and Breha was suddenly struck with a wish to keep the conversation going, still, to see what else there would be to talk about between them all, to see more of how they would all be able to fit in with each other.

It was then, though, when the comlink attached to Commander Fox's armor started to blink, and he stood up from the couch.

"I'm afraid I have to take my leave now", he said, reaching to grab his helmet from the couch, where it had been sitting next to him. "I am needed elsewhere."

"That is quite alright", Bail said. "It was truly a pleasure to speak with you, Commander. I hope that we could speak more, some other time. I wish you good luck on your duties."

Breha rose from her seat, and Bail followed suit.

"I wish the same", Breha said. "I won't be staying on Coruscant for much longer, but would you agree on having my contact with you, so you could speak with me while I'm on Alderaan, if you ever feel the need to do so?"

Commander Fox tilted his head ever so slightly, looking a bit curious by her request momentarily, before he caught himself and straightened his posture again.

"If you wish so", he said. He took the contact chip from Breha when she offered it to him, and then he rolled his shoulders back. "Thank you, Your Majesty, Senator, for your time."

He bowed his head, so polite and so proper, like he had been practicing it beforehand. Maybe he had been.

"Thank you, Commander Fox", Breha said. "I hope to speak with you again soon."

Commander Fox straightened his back.

"Likewise", he said. "Goodbye."

Then he turned around and pulled his helmet over his head in one, swift motion, and with a few long strides, he was out of the office.

Breha watched as he disappeared from her view as the door slid close after him, leaving only her and Bail standing there.

It was quiet for a moment, before Bail drew in a deep breath.

"I feel like", he said, looking at the door, "whatever happens next, will change us all."

Breha couldn't agree more.

She looked down, at her hand, and at the three flowers on her wrist, with their petals interlocked with each other.

There was a reason, a reason the Force has spent a long time deciding upon, for the connection between them, evident by the marks they all carried on them.

Whatever that reason was, Breha would fullfill it.

[bittenbyyou]

Pampered

Boyfriend!Peter Parker x Reader

genre: fluff

description: You pamper your boyfriend with skincare after a long day. 

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Peter knows absolutely nothing about skincare and is so endearing. Fluffy fluff. 

a/n: I’m not a skincare expert, but I do love learning about it. And I thought the idea of Peter getting pampered was adorable because he deserves to be taken care of. Please reblog if you enjoyed! :)

You checked the time on your phone, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously. Peter’s nighttime patrols have been getting longer and longer to where he sometimes wouldn’t come home until 2 A.M. Even you, who was a night owl, had your limits.

A subtle squeak soon caught your attention as you whipped your head to look at the window. Sure enough, you saw a red gloved hand slide the window open before the famous Spider-Man crawled through upside-down. 

“Hi beautiful,” your boyfriend said from the ceiling. You got up from the bed, hands on your hips. 

“You had me worried,” you said, though your light-hearted tone let Peter know you weren’t really upset. With a gentle, muffled thud, he touched down on the floor and swiftly removed his mask.

“I know, I’m sorry. I got caught up with a bank robbery and then there was a fire—”

“A fire?!”

“—and then these thugs tried to rob an old lady. Can you imagine that? But she beat them with her cane like bam! Bam! Bam!” he continued, reenacting the scene for you. “I barely had to do anything. You should’ve seen it!”

The way he talked about crime fighting was incredibly endearing. He was always so passionate and upbeat, like it was his favorite thing in the world because… it was. Along with you of course. And that’s why you fell in love with him. He truly loved what he did. Not many would go through such lengths to protect their city the way Peter did. You could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was meant for this.

“Sounds hilarious,” you said, letting out a giggle. You cupped his face with both hands, inspecting for any blemishes or scars. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m good. Really.” He grabbed your hands and placed a warm kiss on one of them. “Now let’s go to bed. I’m beat.”

“No. You have to brush your teeth and floss.”

He slumped his shoulders. “I’m really tired.”

“Babe, hygiene is important. Plus we gotta do your skincare.”

“It’s too many steps,” he whined. 

“I’ll do your skincare for you. But go brush first,” you ordered, pointing to the bathroom. He pressed the black spider emblem on his suit where his chest was, making it expand and fall off his body like a deflated balloon. 

“Yes ma’am…” He walked away from you in a sulking, slouching position and you laughed. 

“Quit being dramatic.”

“It’s so~ far~.”

“Don’t make me tickle you.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” he exclaimed, running away from you as fast as possible. 

Peter took longer than expected because he felt the need to shower once he realized how sweaty he was. The water relaxed him but also made him feel more awake. It was already late in the night (or early in the day), so he didn’t care anymore about sleep.

You waited patiently and patted the mattress when you saw him come back in nothing but his boxers. 

“Come on, lie down.” He obeyed and rested his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. “Put this on first.”

Peter opened his eyes to see you dangling the pink headband with a large bow in front of his face. He gave you a “are you serious?” look but put it on anyway, being careful to push all the hair out of his face with it. You tried to refrain from laughing, but failed once he shot you a glare. 

“I feel ridiculous.”

“No~, you’re adorable.”

“You’re laughing.”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. “No, I’m not.”

Peter chuckled and closed his eyes. “Alright. Make me beautiful.”

Deep down, he loved being pampered by you even if he didn’t want to admit it. With everything going on in his life, taking care of his skin was the least of his worries. But you were adamant about it, passionate even, that he had to take care of his skin everyday. You even created a skincare routine for him, which he felt had too many steps (it was three). How you did this for yourself everyday, he had no clue. But he loved how you cared so much for him and these little acts of love made his heart feel warm and fuzzy. 

"Did you remember to put on sunscreen this morning?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of playfulness as if you were teasing him.

“Yes,” he answered quite proudly.

“Did you reapply every two hours?”

“... I’m supposed to reapply?”

You grabbed the bottle of micellar water, shaking the bottle before drenching a reusable cotton pad with it. Leaning over, you swiped the pad gently all over Peter’s face. He smiled with his eyes at the cooling sensation. 

“Yeah. The SPF doesn’t last all day unless you reapply.”

“But I wear my suit and that shields me from the sun all day,” he said, every word enunciated with the pout of his lips. God, he didn’t understand how cute he was. It took everything in you not to kiss him right now.

“You take off your mask a lot and if you don’t protect your skin, the sun can damage it. Open your eyes.” He obeyed. “Look at how dirty this pad is. The grime and sweat and oils from your day.”

Peter’s eyes widened a bit at the gray pad, still not used to how much dirt he could accumulate in a day. “Wow, that came from my face?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What’s the thing you used?” he asked, pointing to the bottle in your hand.

“Micellar water. It’s like a makeup remover.”

“I’m not wearing makeup.”

“I know. But it takes off the dirt on your face. And the one layer of sunscreen you had,” you said, emphasizing the word “one”. He gave you a cheeky grin.

“Okay, I’ll put on more sunscreen. I promise.” He held out his pinky and you did the same, locking him in on his promise. 

“Good. Time for a cleanser.”

“What’s that again?”

You pumped some cleanser into your hands and then added enough water from the bowl you had prepared earlier to lather it. You rubbed your hands together until bubbles had formed. 

“It’s like soap but specifically for your face. Close your eyes.”

You rubbed the cleanser over Peter’s face, careful not to touch his eyes or lips. This was one of your favorite parts because you got to admire your handsome boyfriend up close, appreciating every feature. 

“So like bar soap?”

“... Please don’t tell me you’ve been using bar soap on your face.”

“I use it everywhere.”

“Everywhere…? So like… your balls?”

“Um… uh… no? That’d be ridiculous,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh. The loud sigh that left your lips let him know he was in for it now. 

“Peter, you can’t use the same soap bar for your dick and face!”

“But it’s soap!”

“I… I don’t even know what to say. You’re supposed to be the genius here.”

“... It’s soap.”

“Okay, I’m tabling this. At least you were cleaning your face. From now on, use the cleanser I bought you for your face. It’s a hydrating one because you have dry skin.”

Peter gasped and clutched his chest dramatically like you had just insulted him. “I do not.”

“You don’t even know what that means.”

“I thought you said I have beautiful skin.”

“You do, you donut. You’re lucky it’s so nice even though you don’t take care of it.”

You grabbed the towel you prepared and wiped the suds away, revealing your adorable Peter, who was smiling from your touch. 

“Where’s that thing that smells like oranges?”

“Hmm? The cleansing balm? It’s harder to rinse it off if you’re in bed. That’s why I used micellar water today.”

“Aw… but I like the orange one.”

“Then you can do it yourself.”

“No, I’m good,” he said, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes at how childish he could be sometimes, yet you still found him endearing. 

“Okay, two more steps.”

“Two?!”

“Babe, I have like six steps in mine. You’re fine.”

“How do you do this everyday?”

“I don’t know. I find it relaxing. Besides, I want to look my age and not age faster because I didn’t take care of myself. Plus skin cancer is scary.”

Peter nodded because that was the first thing you’ve said tonight that he fully comprehended. “What are the last two steps?”

“I’m putting on a serum treatment for you and then a moisturizer to seal everything in.”

“That sounds fancy.”

You grabbed the bottle of serum for his skin needs, taking the dropper it came with and placing a couple drops on the back of your hand. Then you used your ring finger, the gentlest finger, to dab the product all over Peter’s face. He giggled when you touched his neck, the tickling sensation making him squirm. 

“Babe,” you scolded playfully. “Stay still.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” His eyes fluttered open and he watched you work your magic, loving your concentrated expression. To him, you were the most beautiful girl in the world and the way you cared for him made him feel special. 

You pumped out a couple squirts of your fancy moisturizer, making sure to tell him it was a fancy moisturizer and he laughed, thanking you for your sacrifice. 

“Seriously, this cost me a lot. And I’m using it on your face so… you’re welcome.”

“Thanks. The villains in this city must be so jealous right now,” he teased.

“They should be.” You leaned back and grinned, satisfied with your work. Peter’s face was glowing, the lamp in his room illuminating his face even more. “You look gorgeous.”

Peter took off the pink headband, placing it on his nightstand before pulling you on top of him. “You’re gorgeous.”

You got into a more comfortable position as you straddled him, pecking his lips, cheek, and nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too. But…”

“But?”

“You messed up my skincare. You just transferred so much bacteria onto my clean face.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious. This is unprofessional. I want a refund.”

“You’re so ridiculous sometimes, you know that?” 

He broke out into another cheeky grin. “You love me though.”

“I don’t know… you don’t want my kisses.” You got off him and laid on your side, pulling the covers over your body.

“No, no, I want them.” 

“Good night.”

Peter forced you to turn around, planting a big smooch on your lips. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, holding onto his soft curls as you pulled him closer. As your lips parted from his, you both looked into each other's eyes with a loving gaze, unable to pull away. 

“[Y/N]... I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you eat the cleansing balm?”

“Babe, no.”

“But it smells so good.”

“I’m going to bed.”

[milaisreading]

hihi!! just an idea :)

The post abt bachira and the others making posts on twitter and crossdresser! yn does actually get in trouble with JFA so after getting scolded by them it weighs on het shoulders a lil bit (cuz how was she meant to stop them?) and now the team is mad at bachira, isagi and kurona and maybe try cheering up crossdresser! yn?

Sorry for the mouthful😅

Love the works! <33 take care( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

🌱🩷: Thank u for the request, and I am happy u are enjoying the stories so far! Hope u like this🫶🏻

Inspo

Warnings: Reader uses she/her, but since she is crossdressing here, the guys use he/him. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke ⚽️

"We said to watch over your team and what they post. Do you know how bad it would have been for us if the media saw that."

"Or worse, some of the investors."

"We really should switch you out as the captain. You know nothing!"

(Y/n) cringed as the higher ups of the JFA threw those words at her.

'This isn't fair. How is any of this my fault?' She bit back her words, knowing that Anri and Ego are probably eavesdropping on the conversation.

"I am sorry. It won't happen again. I took the phones away from them and Teieri-san promised we will go over with everyone what can and can't be posted." (Y/n) said, bowing down as another man rolled his eyes.

"It better not happen. As a captain you take some responsibility as well."

"I understand." (Y/n) repeated and excused herself. Walking out of the room, she ignored both Ego and Anri, she just wanted go back to her room. Anri, worried for the girl, walked after her, leaving Ego to deal with the JFA.

"(Y/n), are you alright? Please talk to me." Anri said in worry, but got no response for a good few minutes. Eventually, all the words got to her and (Y/n) stopped in her tracks.

"(Y/n)..."

"This isn't fair, Teieri-san. All of this is too much for me. I know as a captain I have certain responsibilities, but I am not the PR manager of the team." Anri watched as the girl started tearing up.

"How was I supposed to know Bachira, Isagi, and Kurona would start messing on their profiles?! I don't understand how..." The girl started sobbing and Anri pulled her into a hug.

"It's not your fault, mistakes happen. None of it is your fault."

"I am just tired. I wish I never became the captain, or joined Blue lock. Can I just leave?"

"Don't say that. Listen, go and rest for a bit. Some sleep might do you good."

While Anri tried to calm her down, neither noticed Barou and Rin spying on them... and boy, they were mad!

"Isagi, Bachira, Kurona!!" The trio tensed up as they heard Barou's yell. He was so loud and mad that it caught the attention of other teammates.

"What is this yelling about?" Nagi raised an eyebrow.

"Dunno... Barou and Rin seem angrier than usually." Kunigami shrugged his shoulders.

"What are you yelling about?" Bachira groaned as he got off the ground, Isagi and Kurona also raised an eyebrow as well.

"You three and your stupid posts earlier on are the reason he is yelling!" Rin bit back.

"You don't mean that dumb thread Bachira started? Calm down, it wasn't anything scandalous." Chigiri tried to intervene. This earned a nod from Aryu as well.

"Yeah, it was stupid, but nothing serious."

"Is it worth yelling about it? They got their phones taken away, anyway." Tokimitsu added in. He really wasn't willing to listen to any yelling right now.

"Besides, all three of us got scolded by (Y/n) already. I don't see why you two want to do it as well." Isagi's words earned him a glare from Rin.

"And all three of you should be scolded again! You are the reason he is crying now!" Barou chimed in. This caused the trio to tense up and the rest of the team to narrow their eyes.

"What do you mean with cry? He looked pretty calm when I talked to him." Gagamaru said, Hiori soon after nodding his head.

"Yeah, he even found the situation a little funny."

"Well, those old sacks at the JFA didn't find it funny. Appeared they yelled at him and threw insults at him for that thread." Rin rolled his eyes.

"Yelled at him? You aren't serious, right?" Kurona asked quietly.

"No, we aren't kidding. We heard him cry to Teieri-san about it." Barou answered. The rest of the team was pretty tense by now, shifting their focus to glare at the nervous trio.

"So, he cried? Really cried? Is he ok now?" Niko asked in worry.

"It's so weird to imagine (Y/n) cry. He is always so composed. Whatever they said, must have really stung." Reo narrowed his eyes as Nagi and Karasu cracked their knuckles.

"Let us handle them." Karasu said rather cheerfully.

"But first! You 3 need to fix this with (Y/n). It's your fault after all." Yukimiya added in, causing the attention to be on the trio again.

"You are right... we will think of something." Isagi sighed, guilty for everything as Kurona and Bachira nodded their heads.

"Maybe food will do the trick?" Bachira wondered.

"Maybe, we can help you all. But, you better apologize to (Y/n) properly, got it?" Hiori smiled at them.

"Thank you." Kurona nodded his head as Otoya cleared his throat.

"Can we now beat up the JFA members?"

"No." Kunigami and Rin said at once.

"Do it some other time, we don't want to upset (Y/n) more." Gagamaru argued.

"Let's now focus on helping you 3 out." Chigir yawned, getting off of the floor.

A few hours later and the trio had prepared the food for (Y/n) and did some of the chores she was supposed to do. After she woke up from a longer nap, she was surprised to see Isagi at her door, but didn't think much of it. The real surprise was when she was sat down at the cafeteria, and it wasn't the food that she normally ate that was served to her.

"Huh? I shouldn't be eating this? Does the system have some issues again?" (Y/n) wondered, but earned a protest from Kurona.

"Actually, Isagi and I made it for you. As an apology for what happened earlier today." Isagi nodded his head, confusing (Y/n) more.

"What do you mean?"

"We wanted to apologize for those posts we made... we got you in a lot of trouble for it. I even did the chores that you had to, so that you can relax tonight." Bachira said, smiling apologetically at her.

"Ha? You guys did all of this?"

"Mhm." They nodded their heads. The rest of the cafeteria was pretty much silent, waiting for what might happen next.

"You... you guys really didn't have to. I already said I wasn't mad, the whole thing was funny to me. It's just that the JFA made a huge fuss over it." She rolled her eyes, remembering the yelling from earlier.

"It's all good now, don't beat yourselves up over it. Now, let's eat dinner." She smiled while gesturing at the empty eats. The trio, relieved that it all worked out well in the end, nodded their heads and went to get their own food before sitting down to eat with (Y/n). And, while the rest of the team was happy to see their captain smiling again, they couldn't help but feel down over the fact that she let the trio sit with her.

'That should have been me.'

'Lucky bastards...'

[vampirepirates]

THE LONG WINTER — SANDOR CLEGANE .

Masterlist:

authors note + cast list.

parts: 1 2 3

CHAPTER TWO , A TOURNEY.

And who are you? The proud lord said,

That I must bow so — Low? Only a cat of a

different coat. That's all the truth I know.

– The Rains of Castamere.

The simplicity of Winterfell's consistent snowfall was something all too easy to overlook. To under-appreciate when it was all you were subjected to. It's when we spend our days longing for that which is out of our grasp, that we forget what we have already.

Every night since Lyarra's return to the comforting stone palace that she knew as home, she'd snuck out as the moon reached its peak. Every night, she made her way to the same spot. In truth, she wasn't sure exactly how long it had been. Weeks, she thought — maybe months. It was hard to tell. Her days were spent with either Benjen or Lyanna — as her two older brothers had too much responsibility to take on to spare a moment for their little sister. Brandon was coming into his own while Eddard was, more often than not, at the Eyrie. He'd been fostered there for what felt like years, rarely coming back to Winterfell unless it was for a matter of great import. 

She longed to return to the days where she could talk to Brandon about anything on her mind, where he would match her vigor with his own — and it felt as if they were the only two who felt things as passionately as they did. She missed Eddard's all too serious tone in her ear constantly, nitpicking at all that she did. Years passed like this. She'd spend her nights in the forest, and her days with her younger brother and Lyanna. Lyarra learned to value the moments that she had with her family, cherishing them as if there wouldn't be another.

When she had the chance, she'd roam the halls with Benjen. Talking about anything and everything they could think of. He had even taken to sparring with her in the courtyard, though it took what felt like years of convincing. He wouldn't go near Lyanna — though she was almost the most enthusiastic for the chance — as there were rumors spiraling that Father was intending on wedding her soon. The girls were closing on ten-and-three, now. They knew well enough what was to come, whether they wanted it or not. A year prior, Brandon had come to Lyarra's room, just before she meant to sneak out. Her nerves were on fire, her palms sweating at the thought of being caught. But that wasn't what her brother was here for at all. In truth, she could've been halfway out the window by the time he entered, and he wouldn't have cared. He sat her down, and in a somber tone unbecoming of his character, told her that their father — Lord Rickard Stark — was considering marrying her to Edmure Tully. 

Her initial reaction was to laugh. Her contempt for the boy was evident, even when she was staying with his family. They bickered, constantly. Not in the way that friends — or even siblings — do, no. The two despised one another. In truth, Lyarra wasn't certain what necessarily brought it on. Maybe it was his apparent distaste for her friend, or maybe it was just his attitude in and of itself. The very thought brought an uneasy feeling to her stomach, and that night she forgot all about her peace within the forest. That night, she begged Brandon — inconsolably bawling in his arms, soaking his tunic — to convince father otherwise. 

"Please, Brandon. Please, don't let him. I've never met such a horrible boy in my life, truly! It's not fair, it's just not fair." Her words were muffled by his thick fur pelt, as she felt two broad arms come to wrap around her. Brandon caressed the back of her head, petting her hair as she continued to fall apart in his arms. 

The two sat wrapped in one another for so long, that she hadn't even noticed her eyes growing heavy. She woke up to the sun in her vision — lighting up her puffy, tear-stained cheeks. When she sat up, she had her brother's cloak on. After that day, Edmure Tully was never mentioned to her again. Lyarra wasn't a fool. She was lucky, lucky that her father had started mulling over potential matches with the worst possible option. And more than anything, she was lucky that she had a brother caring enough to tell their father that he was a fool. 

Lyanna, however, was not so lucky. She was to be wed to Robert Baratheon. A boy that the twins knew well, due to how close he was with Ned. Lyarra had never felt any particular way about him, not entirely. His longing for her sister was known, and oftentimes if he was drunk enough he'd confuse the two. She pitied him, in a way. A stupid boy, who fell for a brash girl — who knew all too well she'd be doomed to an unhappy marriage. Robert, though he claimed to love her sister, would never pass down an offer from a woman. Would never look away, when someone would strip themselves bare. He would be an unfaithful husband, even if no one was willing to acknowledge it but her and Lyanna. Eddard didn't disagree, necessarily. He knew the boy better than anyone. But his love for him was as clear as her own love for Petyr. 

The night that the news was delivered, Lyarra clutched onto her sister's hand as tightly as she could. 'Lyanna was the most beautiful girl in all the seven kingdoms', Lyarra had thought. For all of her 'boyish' qualities, there had never lived a girl with more beauty. Both in spirit and in body. Compassion bled through Lyanna as if it was her own blood. When the two bid their farewells from the dining hall, Lyarra held her sister in her quarters as she all but sobbed in her arms. This time, she couldn't go to their father as Brandon had. She couldn't stand up for her, force him to make another decision. It was in that moment that she realized just how weak she was. How powerless she would be, from this day until the end of her days. 

At ten-and-four, the betrothal was official. Lyanna Stark would wed Robert Baratheon, at a time that they saw fit. The night that it became an official decree throughout the realm, Lyarra spent hours sitting on her stump. At first, she sat in silence. Not even staring up at the sky, as she usually would have. This time, she gazed curiously down at her hands. Her fingers, though littered with calluses and scrapes from holding a blade, held no power. She couldn't help anyone. She couldn't fix anything. 

Later, her eldest brother would scold her for missing the feast. Claiming that her sister needs her at her side now, more than ever. But it wasn't unnatural for her to miss celebrations. She rarely attended any sort of gathering, had she not been forced to do so. She'd seen her sister staring after her longingly, pleading with her to not go. But Lyarra wasn't strong enough to help her sister to begin with, so why should she try to be brave for her? 

These nights repeated themselves, a consistent routine. It was only when it was announced that the children would be attending Lord Walter Whent's tourney at Harrenhal, that she took a pause. She hadn't left the castle properly since Riverrun. It was a fool's wish, but she couldn't help the giddiness that crept up her, as her thoughts swept to Petyr. Benjen took that moment to list off who he knew would be attending. He was fascinated by the knights, after all, and Lyarra couldn't blame him. Had she not been born a woman, she'd spend her nights dreaming of a life as a knight. A sworn brother, giving his life to his king. A strong, brave hero. By the end of the list, she couldn't help the displeasing churn that twisted in her gut. She missed her friend, dearly. As everything began to spiral out of control in her life, her need to see him was stronger than ever. 

She'd sent ravens. Half a dozen, by now. They all contained various messages. Some describing what was going on, some detailing what she'd be doing right now if she could, and some asking him about what was going on in his life. Yet after years, she'd yet to receive a response. Perhaps he'd never gotten them. Perhaps something went wrong with each and every bird she'd sent. Or perhaps, he no longer wanted to hear from her at all. 

The journey to Harrenhal wasn't nearly as discomforting as it had been to Riverrun. This time, she walked ahead with the eldest members of her family. Her and Lyanna would have to ride different horses this time, and seeing as she couldn't stand another minute of discussing Robert Baratheon — Lyarra chose to ride alongside Eddard, who had hardly seemed surprised by her presence. He cast a longing look towards his two younger siblings, as Benjen and Lyanna had begun bickering about anything and everything. First, her horse was too close to his. Then, his horse stunk — and it was making her horse stink. Then, all horses stink. Lyarra and Eddard were nearly in hysterics by the end of the ride, after hearing their ridiculous arguments. 

Harrenhal almost made Lyarra miss the castle in Riverrun. Though it'd felt almost like a cell while inside, this castle was bordering on ruin. And by the looks of it, it always had been. The first event of the tourney itself came quickly. Her eyes caught on the shields, on the way that the clashing almost appeared to be a dance. She knew some of the knights by their sigil alone, while other times she needed Benjen to name them for her. Across the stands, Lyarra's eyes were caught curiously by what she saw before her. Across her stood a boy, who couldn't be more than a year — maybe two — her elder, with a scar stretching across his cheek. A boy who, to most, no doubt appeared monstrous. With a patch of hair missing, and puckered burns across his face, the sight would make any take a shallow breath. 

But Lyarra, forgetting herself, couldn't take her eyes off of the boy. For all the monstrous things about him, his eyes were captivatingly beautiful, enraptured in a way she had never seen. He was fascinated by what was going on, entirely absorbed. His own adoration matched her own, though she was sure she was not able to express her excitement exactly the way that he was. After a beat or two longer, the boy's head seemed to snap up in an instant — his eyes finding Lyarra in the crowd, as if he knew exactly where she'd be. She watches as his brow, or what is left of it, furrows at her stare. She did her best to pull her lips in a soft smile, so that he would know she wasn't staring out of ignorance or anything of the sort. But his piercing eyes flitted away just as quickly as they had appeared. He seemed to compose himself, his previous childlike grin dampened to ash. 

Lyarra couldn't help the guilt churning within her. She hadn't meant to upset the boy. She wanted to ask her brother if he knew who the boy was, but she decided to take the attention off of him for a moment. Instead, she focused her gaze on what was transpiring before her. Benjen had been talking throughout the competition, apparently, but she only tuned back in towards the end. She didn't need him to name the golden boy below her, who stood proud as he was bestowed the honor of Kingsguard. She'd never met the boy personally, but one knows a lion when one sees it. Jaime Lannister carried his ego with him on his shoulder wherever he went. Not that Lyarra could blame him. He was beautiful, even she could admit that. He almost resembled a knight that she would read about in her stories, who'd come to save the fair maiden in her time of need. 

Jaime Lannister, for all of his overwhelming self-confidence, had never seemed so small as he did in that moment. She took the time to scan over him with curious eyes. He was just a boy. His eyes only just barely gave away his facade, breaking away to show the display the true fear beneath them. He wanted to prove himself as badly as she did – as badly as anyone competing today did, she'd argue. When Lyarra came back from her train of thought, recognizing that her brother was speaking again, Jaime's eyes began to sweep over the crowd. It felt as if he were committing the moment to memory, and she couldn't help but sit up in the slightest to applaud properly. For only a moment, his eyes caught on her — flickering in vague recognition. A lion recognizes a wolf just as easily, it'd seem. By the time that Lyarra pulled her eyes away from Jaime, she glanced to the spot where she had seen the scarred boy from earlier. In his place left a small, almost unnoticeable gap in the crowd. Yet she couldn't help the faint pout on her lips as she tried to find him. 

"Enjoying the tourney, my lady?" The Lion called to the Wolf. The festivities had been wrapped up for the night, with the final event being a knighting of a large man that Lyarra couldn't quite recall. Clegane, she thought. A monstrous man. Twice the size of her father, double that of her brother.  There were whispers throughout the crowd, as he was bestowed the title of knight. However, she paid them no mind. Coming back to herself, Lyarra couldn't help the small smile on her lips as she turned to face the golden-haired boy. Jaime matched her smile with a coy grin of his own, his helmet buried in the crux of his armpit. 

"It's fascinating, Ser Jaime. Though a bit tedious at times, if you don't mind my saying-" at that, she was cut off by a sharp laugh from the boy. Of course, even his laugh was princely. Lyarra decided then and there that Jaime Lannister was perfect. He had no faults. How could he, after all? Every step he made left a golden footprint, his words pure honey pouring out of his lips. Unbecoming of herself, she couldn't help the blush that crept up her neck. "But fascinating regardless. Congratulations are in order, I'd assume?"

"I thank you, my lady. I'll remember it for the rest of my days, I'm sure. There's nothing quite like standing in front of a crowd and hearing them all chant your name. Not mocking you, but worshipping you, cheering for you.." He trailed off, his eyes unfocused in the distance. Lyarra's own smile turned the slightest hint of bittersweet, at that. She'd never get to feel that, not the way he had. She'll never be a knight, nor will she be worshipped. Even if she is married off, it won't be to someone important enough to have the people chant her name. Her own eyes gaze longingly into the shrubbery for a moment, before she is stolen out of her stupor by an arm being presented to her. 

"Would you accompany me to the feast, my lady? It's a terribly long walk, I'm afraid. I wouldn't want for you to get lost. Or me, for that matter!" Jaime's words were charmingly sweet, with a grin that stretched across his features wolfishly. Her arm linked with his before she could think through the action properly. 

"The newly appointed Kingsguard lost on his first day? Oh, no. We can't have that, can we?" The two shared a laugh, as if they'd developed their own language within minutes of speaking to one another. Lyarra had half the heart to be wary of the lion, of how charming he was. But as he continued to make her laugh — to say exactly what she was thinking, just before she said it, her trepidation melted away, leaving only something warm and all encompassing within her chest. The two made their way to the hall with minimal conversation, Jaime making a few comments throughout the trip — clearly just seeking to hear her laugh again. 

"Ah, yes. Here we are. Lord Whent's favorite bush. It's said he comes out here, at the cusp of night when he knows that no one is watching..." He trailed off then, widening his eyes expectantly. Lyarra felt a snort building up, and let out a quick cough to maintain her dignity. Her belly laughs quick became giggles, as the two continued throughout the night. "And uh, well. Looks at it? I'm not quite sure really. Can you really do much with a bush?" 

"Oh, you'd be surprised! Think bigger, Ser Jaime. Think bigger." 

"You know, you're not the first person to tell me that."

Once they had arrived to the feast itself, Lyarra moved to sit by her siblings. Jaime bid her farewell by kissing the tips of  her fingers, and she promised to find him again before they made their journey back home. She did her best to ignore the looks coming from his family, as well as the confused glances from her own. Instead, she sat down harshly — with far too much weight than she should have. Had Old Nan been there, she would've called it 'unladylike'. To all seven hells with that, she thought. She directed her attention to once again scanning the faces in the hall, looking for the boy from earlier. At Benjen's inquisitive look, she went to describe him to ask for his aid — but thought better of it. If he was already offended by just her staring, of course he would hate it if her whole pack of wolves gawked at him too. 

She was briefly distracted by this train of thought when her siblings began to argue. Apparently, Lyanna had been paying too much attention to Rhaegar Targaryen (not that anyone could blame her, for that matter) and Benjen took to mocking her like a child. Not only that, when the man had begun to sing — Lyanna couldn't hold back her tears. Their brother was laughing so hard that he was bordering on tears of her own. Lyarra sat back as well as she could on the bench, scanning the hall for the boy from earlier. Her eyes caught Jaime's from across the room, as he sent her a curious look. She brushed it off, turning her attention back to her rowdy siblings — who were now spilling wine on one another. 

Lyarra had half a heart to chastise them for their behavior, but Eddard had spoken up in that moment already. She took one more glance around the room before standing to take her younger brother's arm, guiding him out of the hall. 

"Does she have to act like such an idiot all the time?" He grumbled to himself once they were outside of the hall. Had Lyarra not been so close to him she likely wouldn't have heard it to begin with. 

"If I remember right, you started it, dear brother. Perhaps, don't mock a woman while she holds a glass of wine." Lyarra added with a shrug, moving to ruffle his hair half-heartedly. 

"Woman is a stretch. You're both children. Act like it too." His words were met with a sharp sigh. He was right, of course. They were only treated as women because of matters outside of their control. As if bleeding once should make you ready to bear a child, to take on the responsibilities of a lady.

"Like you're any better." With that, the conversation had ended. Benjen all but avoided her eyes as she guided him to his quarters. She'd intended on leaving the boy there to retreat to her own, before an arm shot out to grasp onto her. Lyarra jumped at the sudden movement, spinning back to face her brother. 

"D'you mind staying, just for a while? I don't like being away from home. It's better when you're around." His admission was quiet, eyes cast low. She took this moment to raise her palm to his cheek, moving him to face her. 

"Of course, Benjen. I'll stay as long as you'd like." And she did just that. The two only talked for a short while. He continued prattling on about Lyanna's fascination with Rhaegar, and Lyarra only scoffed and nodded along as she listened. She, in turn, told him of her time with Jaime Lannister. This was met with a bit of a scowl, but Benjen nodded nonetheless. The boy had fallen asleep soon after, but Lyarra did not leave his side until she saw the sun peaking over the castle. 

The remaining days of the tourney seemed to wane on. She, along with the rest of her family, had been forced to attend every competition. Every blade swung just reminded Lyarra further that she would never be able to hold such a position. She'd always be the lady stuck in the crowd, watching as the men have their fun. She hardly held a scowl as she observed, though several times she was chastised by her brothers. Some nights Jaime would meet her in that same garden, escorting her to the feast in the same way he had the nights prior. Other nights the two would only meet one another's eyes from across the room, and smile in their own secretive way before moving on. All things considered, Lyarra was merely content to find a friend. The boy seemed to have mutual respect for her, as she did him. 

On the fourth day of competition, Lyarra had decided she'd had enough of playing the silent observer. There had been two jousts already, and just before the men could begin the third — she'd heard a distant yell. It wasn't loud enough to catch the attention of the men in front of her, but it did catch the ears of her and her siblings. Benjen, at the very least. 

"Men for the Night's Watch! Any able bodied man looking to serve the realm, look for the Night's Watch! The shield that guards the realms of men!" A poor advertisement, really. But effective to one, it'd appear. Lyarra watched as Benjen sat forward, his eyes muddled in thought. The very thought of her brother in the Night's watch forced an unladylike cackle out of her lips. Her brother? The boy who had begged her to stay in her room, so that he did not have to sleep alone, only nights ago? Regardless, the boy was transfixed. He only looked away when a group of boys behind them began to call out to the man. 

They mocked him, belittling him for such a 'cowardly job', as they'd put it. The Night's Watch was embarrassing to them. A way to escape the duties of a 'proper man'. In Lyarra's eyes, she considered the men of the Watch brave. They were sacrificing their lives for the realm — for the better of everyone else's life. She stood up then to chastise them, before being yanked down by her older brother. Eddard shot her a sharp look, before quickly returning his focus to the tourney. Lyarra bore the man no mind, as she once again stood up, moving to empty the remainder of her cup of wine on them. They'd shot up instantly to retaliate, before remembering themselves — and quickly ran off. She could hardly hold back the prideful grin on her lips, as she turned back to her brother. 

While she considered the idea of Benjen in the Night's Watch laughable, she wouldn't allow others to dampen his dream. That was her job, after all. She moved to place her hand on his, then, interlocking their fingers. He seemed to breathe after her touch, sending her a short — almost imperceptible — nod in thanks. 

Lyanna did not pay much attention herself, until Rhaegar Targaryen was out. Lyarra couldn't help but admit that her sister did spend an odd amount of time watching the man. She thought he was fascinating herself, of course. The Targaryens were hard to not look away from. They were beautiful, almost standing as mythological beings. However Lyanna had yet to look away from the boy once. Robert had come to speak to her at one point, stomping across the stands — drunk already, no doubt. Lyarra had to step harshly on her sister's shoe to get the girl to notice, too transfixed by the mop of white hair in front of her. This seemed to delight Benjen, as his theory had been proven correct — to which Lyarra turned to stomp on his boot as well. 

On the night before the last day of the tourney, Lyarra held back in the gardens to wait for Jaime. While she waited, she observed the flowers surrounding her. Winter Roses grew proudly everywhere she looked. Lyanna would love this, she couldn't help but think. Perhaps she should bring her sister down tomorrow, before the tourney starts. Or perhaps her sister had already come, with Rhaegar at her side. The man had begun to take interest in her too, no doubt. Only a blind man couldn't see that. Lyarra knew this blooming interest between them would only end poorly. Lyanna was to be wed, and King Aerys hardly seemed like a man to strike a bargain for her sake. She knew as well that Rhaegar was married himself, to Elia Martell, though in truth she had never seen the two together. Another Stark could easily be wed to Robert, to establish the bond. Unfortunate, that she knew well enough in that moment that no man would ever relinquish their 'right to a woman', regardless of how she felt. 

At that moment, a snap of a branch caught Lyarra's attention. She whipped around with a smile, expecting to see Jaime Lannister's golden grin. Only, instead of Jaime, it was a much larger beast. There stood Gregor Clegane.  Ser Gregor, she supposed. He was easily triple her size. She'd seen him maybe twice now in the tourney, crushing every man he went against. He peered down at her, his eyes the furthest thing from human she had ever seen. As she moved to speak, he stepped forward, all but backing her against a column. For the first time in her life, Lyarra was truly speechless in terror. Men had made their intentions with her clear more than once, and she was accustomed to a brutish man with a wandering hand. But Gregor? He wasn't a man at all. He raised his palm to her cheek, and was only halted by a sharp voice calling from across the garden. 

"Brother! Your king is calling you. Says he needs you, now. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting. He seemed angry." The voice, unrecognizable to Lyarra, rang out. His words seemed to echo, as Gregor made no move to retreat. His eyes pierced into hers, and she couldn't help but tremble against the wall. With a grunt, he moved across the garden — staring daggers into whoever had spoken. It was then, as Lyarra sat forward to collect herself, that she was able to spot whom the voice had come from. It was the boy from the first day of the tourney. The boy with burns across his cheek, brown hair sweeping across his face. He looked so small, now that she could see him closer. His scar almost made him appear that much younger. She moved to thank the boy, before another voice rang out. 

"My lady! I apologize for such a dastardly wait. The king has been rather unhappy tonight, I'm afraid. It was a chore to rid myself of him." Jaime Lannister took the opportunity to appear then, making quick strides to her. It was only when he'd reached Lyarra, that he noticed her ragged state. He glanced down at her, before turning accusatively to the boy who still stood silent as ever in the center of the garden. Lyarra shot up, then, placing a calm hand to Jaime's shoulder. The boy took this chance to make his leave, never once breaking eye contact with her. Just before he'd left the garden, she'd stepped forward, leaving Jaime's grasp. 

"Ser?" She called, her voice ringing across the area. The boy stopped then, turning to her with a grimace. She could see then, that he truly wasn't much older than her. Not old enough that he couldn't be a knight, but he didn't carry himself like one at all. He was much larger than her. Smaller than Gregor, of course. But far larger than Jaime — or anyone else she'd met, for that matter. "Thank you."

"I'm no Ser," And with that, the boy had disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived. She almost deflated at that, leaning back on the soles of her feet. Jaime had taken her arm as quickly as he had the previous nights, only this time he lingered — glancing over her to make sure she had no lasting wounds. Her explanation came quick, leaving out names due to the man's connection with the King. Jaime promised her that he would find the man that attacked her, and Lyarra could hardly force a timid smile on her lips. 

Lyarra did not leave her sister's side after that. She rarely saw Jaime, and if she did it was only in passing. The two would send one another a weak smile, before carrying on their respective paths. She knew better than to mention what happened to anyone. Lyarra, in truth, didn't even know if Gregor would be punished, and did not want to suffer his wrath unknowingly. Lyanna spent her time ogling Rhaegar Targaryen, unsurprisingly. She hardly looked away, and if she did it was only for a brief moment. 

On the last day of the tourney, Lyarra could hardly force herself to pay attention. She knew that the purpose of the whole tournament was to name a 'queen of love and beauty'. A nameless title, used only to bring praise and further celebration to the victorious knight who would place the crown in a lady's lap. She spent her time scanning through the crowd, searching desperately for the boy that had her curiosity spiraling like a mad dog. He'd been almost frightened by her wandering eye originally, only to come to her aid when she needed it most. 'Brother', he'd called Ser Gregor. So he was a Clegane, then. Lyarra made a mental note to ask her brother of the Cleganes later, as she knew little to nothing of the name. 

She only refocused her attention on the tournament when she noticed white hair sweeping through the field. Rhaegar Targaryen stood victorious over the other men, thus presenting him with the crown — to bestow upon a lady whom he saw fit. Lyarra had brushed the very concept off, choosing to clasp onto her sister's hand — assuming that he would pick his wife. Lyanna was to be wed, and he had a wife of his own. Regardless of whether there was something budding between the two, they'd have no choice in the matter. It was only as Lyarra watched Rhaegar approach in horror, that she began to reconsider. In a flash, Rhaegar placed the crown of blue winter roses in Lyanna's lap. Just as quickly as he'd arrived, he was gone. Lyanna's cheeks were flushed, a red hue creeping up her neck. She never quite thought she'd seen her sister as full of life as she was in that moment. 

However, Lyarra was no fool. She knew the repercussions to this. The action itself was scandalous, and she watched in mute horror as Robert Baratheon turned his own shade of red in the face. Princess Elia was gone, disappeared in a flash before anyone else had noticed. She couldn't help the pang of pity that rang through her chest, at that. 

The trip back to Winterfell was a quiet one. Benjen and Lyanna rode far from one another, with Lyanna lingering in the back alongside her sister. Lyarra did not leave her sister's side, save to speak with Eddard. Throughout their short talks, Ned did not take his eyes off of Lyanna. He wasn't pleased with her, no doubt. Though, Lyarra maintained that it was no fault of her sister's. Rhaegar made his decision on his own, she took no part in it. He seemed to grow a bit more complacent at her words, muttering a vague comment of appreciation before hastening his horse ahead. 

Lyarra thought then of the golden lion she'd left behind. Jaime Lannister, for all his perfections, was a curious man. She'd only made one friend in her life, yet her bond with the Lannister boy blossomed almost just as quickly. They weren't nearly as close, however, and her heart did not long to return to him as it did to Petyr. Jaime Lannister was a kind, charming boy. Their goodbyes were short, away from prying eyes, in the garden that they'd properly met. He'd had to leave early as it was, with the intention of guarding the Queen Rhaella. Jaime had pulled her hand down to his lips, kissing her knuckles — as if she were a proper lady. Lyarra would miss the boy, she decided then. She only hoped that he'd serve his king well, and that they would later meet under better circumstances. 

The Clegane boy, however, she had yet to see again. She searched for him after the tourney, eyes wandering where they could, but her brothers hardly let her out of their sight after the incident with Lyanna. She would be forever grateful to him, even if she never would get the chance to properly speak with him. 

Lyarra rode silently at her sister's side, doing her best to observe her when she had the chance. She'd seemed somber, since the tourney. Originally, she was elated. Her spirits were only dampened when she'd seen the reaction of the onlookers surrounding her. Lyanna Stark was not one to let the opinions of the many disturb her. She was far from a typical lady. There were even rumors spiraling that she'd presented herself as a Knight at the tourney, though Lyarra was not by her sister's side enough to confirm nor deny that. 

"Are you looking forward to returning home?" Lyarra asked tentatively, leaning down in the slightest to move into her sister's path of sight. It took a few moments for her to respond, and just before Lyarra had gone to ask again she was interrupted. 

"Would you look forward to walking back into the arms of your captor?" Her words were venomous, yet the fury in them was not meant for Lyarra. She knew that well enough. 

"You're not his captive, Lyanna. Robert loves you, at the very least-" 

"At the very least? Oh, so I am meant to love a man because he gives me a golden cage rather than a steel cell? That is not love, dear sister. Robert will find and fuck the first thing he sees, you know that as well as I do." Lyarra was stunned for a beat too long, and before she could collect herself her sister had already ridden ahead. She was right. Lyarra knew she was right. Lyanna had never felt as adored as she had when Rhaegar placed the crown in her lap. A crown of her favorite flowers, solidifying her as the most beautiful lady in attendance. She would never get that from Robert, regardless of how he claimed to love her. 

Lyarra rode on in silence, watching her sister's back as she faded in the distance. She'd wished in that moment, that she hadn't begged her brother to spare her from Edmure Tully. That she was locked in a cage of her own, if only to relieve her sister from the pressure of carrying that weight alone. As it was, she did not know how it felt to be tied to a man that she did not love. She would, in due time. Yet it was her sister who had to shoulder that burden alone now. 

Okay. Well. There's that! I kind of had to force myself to end this chapter here, because I had too many ideas on where to go with it. I did not mean to make this 6k words.. Please bear with me. 

I do have some things I'd like to note about this chapter! One, this is all from Lyarra's perspective, so if something is not included it is because she was not there to witness it. The bit with Howland Reed and the Knight of the Laughing Tree is only briefly touched on in his chapter. Partially because I do not know too much about it, and also because Lyarra was just not present for it. She is always up to smth.. Free my girl. Two, the friendship between Jaime and Lyarra admittedly came out of nowhere. As I was writing, it just felt natural. The chemistry between the two was so entertaining that I could not stop writing for a moment. It feels fitting to me, though, considering what happens between the two later on (maniacal laughter) 

Three, we got our first Sandor appearance! Who cheered. I did not intend on introducing him so early but I saw my chance with the tourney and took it. Bless Lord Whent and his timing (that I altered with creative liberties) Four, the third chapter is likely going to be much shorter than the previous two have been. I have a lot that I'd like to write about Lyarra's life after what happens with Lyanna, so I know that I must separate the two chapters. Fifth and finally, there is a lot of history in the Stark line that is not touched on in this story. Ned being fostered in the Eyrie is only briefly touched on. Lyarra is a bit of an ignorant child, all things considered. She is very curious, but she spends a lot of her time in her own head. If something isn't touched on, it's likely because I felt that something was more important to include instead. I try to keep the familial storylines as close to canon as I can, so if anything isn't explicitly written feel free to assume it happens without saying. 

That is all I have for the time being! If you have any comments, feel free to leave them. 

Thank you, as always

Zevran.

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Three

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two,

A/N: Alright so this chapter covers three episodes. The FireLord and the Avatar, the Runaway and the Puppetmaster!

The gentle knock on his door alerted Iroh. He sat up from where he had been laying on the floor trying to sleep. The heavy metal door opened to reveal a Fire Nation soldier who quickly approached him.

"Ah Ming! I was getting worried." Iroh stated with a pleasant smile, as if he were greeting her for tea, and not from behind bars. The young woman, gave him a brief smile before her expression turned serious.

"The rounds have just changed, so we don't have much time." Ming whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door, as she quickly pulled out a scroll, a bottle of ink and a writing brush. She held them out towards Iroh through the bars, who took them quickly and once she had produced a small flame to provide some light, he wrote down his message.

Once done, he blew on it so that the ink would dry quickly. "I thank you for your help, my dear. It is nice to see our children carry out our mission." Iroh said, smiling at the young guard who returned the gesture with a respectful bow of her head. "My father and I are honored to be of service to such a high ranking official of the Order of the White Lotus."

The ink dried, and once he had added in the secret message that could only be revealed by flame, he rolled it up and held it out for Ming to take. "Will you be able to deliver it to my nephew?" He asked, worry gnawing at his heart as he thought of the lost young boy. Ming nodded confidentially. "My brother will be on rounds near the Prince's rooms tomorrow night. He knows of our secret work and shall ensure this reaches him."

Relief passed through him as he nodded. With a final respectful bow, the young soldier was gone, leaving Iroh to mull over what he had done.

This was his final attempt to try and help his nephew. Perhaps, he should have taken this route long ago, but he had not want to burden Zuko.

But it did not matter now. If a heavy burden meant Zuko would choose the right path, then he would have to learn to carry it.

Iroh just hoped Orora would be there to help him shoulder that burden when the time came.

                                          ————————–

Orora glanced over where Aang was mumbling in his sleep. She smiled as he rolled over before settling once more.

Where once the nights she'd stare into the fire would be a rather depressing past time, now it brought her a sense of calm. Especially since she spent the entire day trying to make sure no one tried to do seriously hurt or maim anyone.

It was a mystery how Toph hadn't crushed anyone under a rock, or Aang hadn't blasted anyone into the sky, or Katara hadn't frozen anyone, or Sokka hadn't hit anyone over the head with his boomerang with how much they all bickered. Granted it wasn't anything malicious, but when tempers were high, especially with teenagers, anything could happen.

She was the designated peacemaker within the group, a title she shared with Aang. Though while Aang used words of wisdom to calm the situation, which weren't exactly received well by the audience most of the time, Orora preferred to have them speak their mind, and try to come up with a solution that would benefit both parties.

A tantrum didn't last more then a few hours. If it was really bad, it would last a day or so, but that was the extent of it.

Still, she smiled to herself as she looked around at the sleeping figures, it was nice to have a role in the little group. It was kind of the same role she had played while traveling with Zuko and Iroh, though back then it had been exclusively for Zuko and whatever inner turmoil he faced.

Did he face any of that inner turmoil now? She mused to herself as she stared into the fire, taking comfort in the gentle warmth of it. Probably not, since he had the life he'd always wanted. Did he ever think about her? Did he ever think what had happened to her after his betrayal?

She highly doubted it, she sighed, rising to her feet and walking to where her bed roll was. Burying herself under the covers, her mind still swimming with thoughts of her Soulmate, missing the way her string briefly shone red.

Her eyes slowly slid closed.

                                          ————————–

His eyes snapped open.

Zuko's ears perked at the sound of footsteps just outside his door. Throwing off his blanket he rushed to the hall to investigate. He opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a cloaked figure disappearing around the corner. Zuko made to follow, only to stop when he caught sight of a scroll on the floor.

The curtains all along the hall blew gently in the breeze coming from the open windows as he held the scroll.

A hand closed over the fingers that held the scroll, prompting him to look up. Orora gave him a smile from where she stood across from him.

He blinked and she was gone, but her nod of encouragement was all he needed to break the seal and open the scroll to read his Uncle's message within.

                                          ————————–

Katara and Sokka were a little occupied in a squabble, which meant that Toph and Orora had to make themselves scarce so as not to be dragged into their sibling disagreement.

"The only downside of being on an island, is that you would never be able to really get away from people." Orora stated before she jumped from one hardened lava stream to another. Toph chuckled as she followed. "Yeah! I wander how did the couples who lived here take a break from one another?" She jested to which Orora grinned.

"Maybe the wife threw the husband in the volcano?" She suggested to which Toph grinned widely. "I love how your dark your mind can get. Its really refreshing." She stated in a joyful tone, to which Orora laughed. "Oh yeah? None of the others share their dark thoughts with you?" She asked, to which Toph shook her head.

"Nope! Katara and Aang are too nice to think dark thoughts." The earthbender stated, as she created a small bridge where the distance between the frozen lava rivers was a bit too big. "And Sokka is well, Sokka."

The older girl let out a bark of laughter. "No arguments there. But I guess when you've lived in isolation like the two of us have nearly our whole lives." She nudged Toph playfully. "Thinking dark thoughts tends to be a good past time."

It was strange how much she had in common with a thirteen year old. While Orora had lived a life where she was forced to live in submission of her father and brothers, Toph had lived a life where she was coddled and treated as an invalid, just because she was blind.

The context did not matter.

What mattered was that they had each led lives where they felt like they were alone in the world.

"Whats the darkest thought you have ever had?" Orora asked Toph, to which the girl shrugged. "What my life would've been like if I didn't have my bending." The girl revealed to which Orora came to a sudden halt. "My life would be even darker then it already is." Toph continued as she kicked her foot out, loose ash forming a small cloud around her as she did.

Reaching out, Orora took her head and smiled down at her, even if she couldn't see it. "Well, the Spirits blessed you with earthbending, so lets leave it at that."

Toph smiled back, the cloud that had suddenly loomed over her dissipating, as she squeezed Orora's hand. "What about you? Whats your darkest thought?"

The older girl pursed her lips, her gaze trained towards the wide open ocean as it stretched out in front of them. "That I will die alone."

Silence followed her confession, one that was finally broken by Toph. "Woah, that's even darker then mine." She said in a tone that was half-joking and yet somehow serious and worried as well. "Why do you think that?" She asked, curious to know what went on in the older girl's mind.

Orora sighed, running a hand down her face. "I don't know. I guess because now that Zuko has betrayed me, I know there is no chance of my being with him." It still hurt saying it, but she continued. "And yeah, I could find someone else, but would I be able to have what I did with Zuko?"

So saying she slumped to sit down on the ash covered ground. Toph stayed where she was, her forehead creased in a frown as she thought over what Orora had just revealed.

"I don't know Zuko as well as you or the other three do." She finally spoke, to which Orora hummed in agreement. She felt Toph shift where she stood, taking a few steps forward to stand next to her.

"But I've heard how powerful a bond can be between two Soulmates. I mean it was so powerful between Oma and Shu that they were able to learn earthbending, just so they could be together." Orora turned her head so she could look at Toph. "I mean sure, he died, but when they were alive, they always found their way back to each other, no matter how much the war forced them to stay apart."

The waterbender frowned. "What're you getting at Toph?" She asked, her curiosity peaking as Toph smiled in her direction. "I'm saying, what if Zuko finds his way back to you, just like Oma and Shu did?"

Stunned silence followed her words. Orora couldn't help but blink at Toph in surprise who was looking at her in a strangely hopeful manner. A flicker of.....something sparked in her heart, but she pushed it aside.

"I don't know Toph." She finally said with a shrug. "I doubt fate will be that kind to us." A sudden punch to her shoulder had the older girl frowning and rubbing the sore spot. Toph, who still held up her clenched fist, glared at her. "If a blind girl can find her soulmate during an all out war, then a girl who's soulmate left her once, can come back to her again."

Orora stood. "How can you be so sure?" She snapped, not wanting to get angry, but frustration did simmer just under her skin at the moment. The younger girl suddenly sobered and dropped her hand. "You've said so yourself that no matter what he did, his heart was always in the right place right?" She asked, to which Orora gave a small shrug. "I suppose so." She muttered.

Reaching out, Toph laid a hand on Orora's chest, right where her heart was. "So if his heart is with you, and you're in the right place, he'll come back to you. Its as simple as that."

Orora stared at Toph, her mouth open in shock and her ice blue eyes wide. The shorter girl shook her head. "Honestly, its amazing how people who have eyes can't even see whats so obvious. I guess its a good thing I'm blind."

So saying, the girl walked off, leaving behind a still stunned Orora who was decidedly ignoring the way her string was flickering red.

                                          ————————–

Zuko's mind was racing.

He knew his Uncle was the one to send him the scroll. But why? He hadn't gained any new information from what he had read. Other then the fact that his great-grandfather had been friends with Aang's predecessor. It was strange how two people who had been the best of friends, could turn against one another.

Or rather, Sozin had turned his back on Roku.

That part was what haunted him the most?.

Was it something that ran in the family? Betraying the people you called friends. He had done the same to Orora what Sozin had done to Roku.

Was that the point his Uncle had been trying to make?

No! He had said he needed to know about the death of his great-grandfather, yet Sozin had been alive in the end. His death had revealed nothing.

Frustration clawed at him from the inside as he marched into the prison tower and towards his Uncle's cell.

He just hoped the man would speak to him.

Slamming the door behind him as he entered, he held out the scroll that had the message on it. "You sent this, didn't you? I found the secret history, which by the way should be renamed history most people already know!" He yelled, allowing his frustration to seep into his words. "The note said that I needed to know about my great-grandfather's death, but he was still alive in the end."

Iroh looked up at Zuko, and for a moment he thought he wouldn't speak.

"No. He wasn't." Though the relief at hearing his Uncle finally speak to him warmed his heart, he pushed it aside in favor of the confusion that clouded his mind.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, as Iroh finally met his eye, and for once Zuko didn't feel the shame and guilt that burdened him since Ba Sing Se.

"You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko." Iroh revealed. "Sozin was your father's grandfather." He paused, preparing Zuko before he revealed the truth and reason behind all the conflict he felt all the time.

And really the next few words changed Zuko's outlook on life forever.

"Your mother's grandfather was Avatar Roku."

Shock raced through his veins, prompting him to drop the scroll he had been holding. His eyes widened, and his heart beat wildly against his chest. His knees felt weak, and yet it was a testament that he did not immediately drop down to the floor.

"Why are you telling me this?" He whispered hoarsely, his mind exploding with questions, each one burning at the tip of his tongue and yet he could voice none of them.

"Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself." Finally, his legs gave way. Zuko dropped to the floor, his head hanging as every moment of confusion and conflict he had ever experienced his entire life rose to the forefront of his mind.

Everything.

Everything he had done, every decision he had ever made and everything that happened to him. It all came back to his family.

His father had banished him after burning him, making him the bitter person he had been for nearly three years.

His mother had left him, influencing him into accepting that he could never trust anyone with his heart.

His sister always lied, pushing him into believing that no one would help him and that he had to help himself.

And now, his great-grandfathers.

Sozin's ideas about sharing the wealth and prosperity of the Fire Nation with the rest of the world had blinded him to all the horrible atrocities the Fire Nation had committed over the past Hundred Years.

Roku's hesitancy on taking out his former best friend was what had led to the war in the first place. If he had thought of the world, rather then the relationship he had had with Sozin, maybe the war would never have started in the first place.

"Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko." His Uncle continued to speak, his words echoing against the cold stone walls of the prison. "It is your nature, your legacy."

Was this it?

Was he meant to feel utter anguish and turmoil for the rest of his life? Was he to know the difference between right and wrong but never be able to act upon it?

He had acted upon it once before, and had suffered the consequences.

Not because he was the Prince of the Fire Nation.

But because he was the son of Ozai.

"But, there is a bright side." His Uncle's voice prompted him to look back up, scarcely allowing an ember of hope to burn in his chest.

"What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you." Iroh stated, his voice firm and stern. The time for gentleness was long past. It was time to show his nephew the utter reality and truth of the situation if he were to do something good for the world and save himself.

"Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world." Iroh was aware how Avatar Aang was meant to do just that, but he had known, long ago, that the young airbender would not be able to do all of that alone. He had to see to the entire world, not just one Nation.

Restoring the honor of the Fire Nation would be up to Zuko and no one else.

He stood, moving to the wall at his side. Iroh pulled out a loose brick and reached for the object within that was wrapped in a frayed, dirty cloth. He removed it to reveal a headdress as he walked towards Zuko and held it out for him.

"This is a royal artifact. It is supposed to be worn by the Crown Prince." Zuko stood in awe of the artifact thought to be lost long ago. The headdress gleamed in the moonlight. "Sozin gave it to Roku as a token of their friendship long ago, but it became tainted, when Sozin betrayed Roku."

Zuko blinked, before closing his eyes and reaching into the pocket of his shirt and pulling out the comb he always carried with him these days to feel her close. Iroh's eyes widened at the sight of the familiar comb.

"I suppose these two share a history of betrayal don't they?" His nephew said, his voice hoarse and heavy with emotion as the two hairpieces were held aloft side by side.

Iroh's heart softened, and he knew Zuko regretted the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se. Perhaps, because of the bond he shared with Orora, it would push him to make the right decision. Placing the crown atop the comb, and closing Zuko's fingers around it, Iroh gave him a look of understanding.

"Then, it is up to you to make it right."

The small room glowed with a sudden blue hue that had been dim for most of the time. However, in that moment it glowed so brightly that if anyone else other then Zuko saw, they would believe the Moon Spirit herself had descended upon them.

However, it was only the string that connected him with his soulmate.

Glowing bright and blue as he finally, finally, realized the true extent of his feelings for Orora.

                                          ————————–

"You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together, even after Roku showed him mercy, Sozin betrayed him like that‌?" Katara's astonished voice cut the tense atmosphere once Aang had revealed what Roku had shown him.

Orora stood to the side, frowning. "All those years of friendship." She said in a low voice. "He just threw it away because he wanted to realize his own ambitions." Why did that sound so familiar? And yet, this was not the time to think about him, the young waterbender scolded herself, focusing instead on what Toph was saying.

"It's like some people are born bad." She said, sounding confused and sad at the same time. Aang stepped up, shaking his head as he did. "No, that's wrong." He insisted, walking so he could stand with his back to them to look out at the ocean. "I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all." His voice sounded so hopeful and optimistic.

Sokka shrugged, ever the pessimist of the group cut in. "Then what was the point?" He asked, to which Aang turned back to look at them. He smiled at each one of them in turn before speaking.

"Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil." His grey eyes landed on Orora at that part, and she felt herself stand up straight, knowing he was thinking of Zuko the same way she was. She chewed on her lower lip, slowly looking away from Aang, who continued with a small smile of understanding.

"Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance." Aang concluded with that ever-present hopeful note in his voice.

"And I also think it was about friendships." He added with a grin. That last part did warm Orora's heart a little bit, prompting her to smile at Katara when the other girl looked at her.

"Do you really think," Toph began, sounding unsure and hesitant as she did. "Friendships can last more than one lifetime?" She asked, and Orora had to stop herself from reaching out and hugging the younger girl.

Aang reached out to take Toph's hand. "I don't see why not." He said as Katara took Toph's other hand as well. Reaching out, Orora placed a gentle hand on Toph's shoulder. "Friends are the family we choose for ourselves Toph." She said before she moved to take Aang's free hand as he held it out for her with a smile. "And I don't know about you, but I don't plan on letting go of any of you in this life or any other."

Aang, Katara and Toph both smiled at her. Sokka, however, had something else to add.

"Well, scientifically speaking, there's no way to prove that-" He began, only to have his sister shoot him an annoyed look. "Oh, Sokka, just hold hands." She said, holding her hand out towards him. Without missing a beat, his hand grasped hers.

Orora gave a soft laugh as Aang turned towards her to wink playfully. And as they stood there, greeting the new day with a more hopeful outlook on everything, Orora closed her eyes and inhaled.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she could feel someone taking her other hand.

One that she was all too familiar with.

Considering she had held that hand many many times during her time with him.

For a moment her string glowed a warm red hue.

                                          ————————–

"People are starting to talk."

Zuko looked up from where he had been going over some new firebending forms he was mastering. Mai stood leaning against the doorway, a half smile playing about her lips.

"About what?" He asked, as she walked into the room, coming to sit opposite him. "That we're dating. Something about going out and walking into the same flower shop twice."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Its just people gossiping nothing more. And its keeping Azula off both our backs, so I welcome it." He added, recalling how delighted his sister had seemed to be when she had spoken to him about it earlier that day. Mai hummed in agreement.

"True, my parents have also backed off." She pulled out a small knife from her sleeve, flicking it in the air and expertly catching it by the handle. "They were starting to look for marriage proposals for me, so dating you seems to be benefiting me as well."

Zuko followed her movement, his mind conjuring a sharp icicle rather then a knife as it twirled in the air. He had seen Orora do that very same move multiple times. Sometimes to practice, but most times out of sheer boredom.

"Have you been meeting with Kei Lo?" He asked, not wanting his thoughts to wander to Orora. Mostly because even the mere thought of her had his string glowing.

Zuko had met Mai's soulmate the first time he had gone to the flower shop. She had introduced him and Zuko had to admit, the boy seemed perfect for Mai. She needed someone to bring out the more softer and fun side of her, and Kei Lo was the right person to do it. Even the mere mention of him had a smile playing across Mai's lips as she nodded. "Yes, I met him just yesterday. My mother is starting to think I have taken an interest in flower arrangements, and my aunt is happy to keep my secret." She admitted.

Zuko smiled back, reaching out to gently pat her hand. "I'm glad you found him Mai." He said, his voice genuine. The girl nodded.

"What about you? Are you still seeing Orora?" The moment she spoke her name, his string began to glow blue. He ignored it in favor of responding to her question.

"Yeah, sometimes, every now and then." He admitted. Her appearances, where they had been quite frequent before, were now sporadic, not to mention she barely spoke in any of them.

He would never admit it out loud, but it was starting to scare him a little, how she was barely there whenever he would think of her.

As if he were forgetting what she looked like.

"Maybe you should go and find her?" Her suggestion had him staring at her wide eyed and dumbfounded. Mai only lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Obviously you miss her, so what harm could there be in going to look for her?" She made the suggestion so carelessly, as if she were commenting on the weather or something.

Zuko frowned. "I can't exactly go out and find her. For one I would need a legitimate reason to leave the Palace." He stood up, walking towards the window and looking out towards the setting sun. "Besides, I doubt she would want to see me after what I did to her." Behind him, Mai pursed her lips, nodding in agreement.

"True, but have you thought that maybe she misses you just as much as you miss her?" She stood, slowly coming to stand behind him, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Trust me Zuko, it's never the right thing to run away or stay purposely away from your soulmate. It doesn't really work."

With that, she turned around and left Zuko to his thoughts.

It was strange. He had been so focused on how his betrayal had effected her, that it had never occurred to him that she would be missing him, just as much as he missed her.

Or perhaps more, he thought to himself, as his string glowed blue.

                                          ————————–

When she had left home, Orora had known she would have to leave several luxuries behind. One of them being shopping.

If there was one thing Orora loved more then anything it was shopping. In Ba Sing Se, she had always been the one to go out and buy whatever they needed. Iroh had been a little surprised at her enthusiasm, but he had not commented on it.

Traveling across the Fire Nation with Aang, Katara, Sokka and Toph meant that they rarely went shopping, if ever. What money they had, they needed for supplies, and many a time Orora had to walk away from a shiny trinket that would catch her eye. All because she didn't have money.

But now?

They had sacks of it.

Her, Sokka, Toph and Aang all but cackled as they exited the town, their arms laden with several purchases, as well as sacks of silver and gold. "Spirits! Why didn't we think of doing this earlier?" The older girl said, smiling from ear to ear as she eyed the meat they had been able to buy. They would be eating really good that night.

"Don't think of the Why Orora." Sokka said, happily carrying his share of shopping. "Think of the What," He trailed off as the other three looked at him, prompting him to continue. "As in, What are we going to spend all this money on?"

Another round of laughter followed his words as they finally reached their little camp, where they dumped their purchases in front of Katara who was cooking.

"Where did you guys get the money to buy all this stuff?" She asked, looking curiously into the baskets. Aang, grabbing an apple from one of the baskets, took a bit out of it and sat down. "Toph got us money." He said as a way of explanation. "She scammed one of those guys in town who moves the shells around all sneaky-like."

Orora grabbed an apple herself. "You should've seen the looks on their faces Katara. Hilarious." She praised as she passed by Sokka and gave him a high-five, before throwing the apple at Appa who caught it in his mouth with a happy groan.

Sokka nodded as he sat down. "She used earthbending to win the game! Classic!" He shot the bling girl a thumbs up, even as his sister adopted a disapproving look. "Ah, so she cheated."

Toph, who had been about to bite into her own apple, stopped. "Hey! I only cheated because he was cheating!" She grinned. "I cheated a cheater. What's wrong with that?"

Katara shook her head. "I'm just saying this isn't something we should make a habit of doing." She reprimanded as Orora dug into their purchase to grab something, only to extract Momo by the tail who had sneaked in when no one had been looking.

Toph scoffed. "Why?" As Orora took the many apples Momo had been trying to sneak off with, leaving the annoyed animal with just one. "Because it's fun? And you hate fun?"

The girl huffed. "I don't hate fun!" Catching Momo as he sulked away, she placed him on her head. "See? Fun!" An awkward silence followed as Momo slipped off her head, screeched at her before running away.

Aang, not wanting to see Katara worry about something so mediocre stood up and lifted his headband to reveal the tattoo below. "Katara." He spoke solemnly, bowing. "I'll personally make you an Avatar Promise that we won't make a habit of doing these scams."

Katara smiled in satisfaction before turning her attention to Orora. The older girl blinked back. "What?" Katara gave her a look, one that had Orora pursing her lips before finally letting out an exaggerated groan.

"Alright! Alright! I'll make sure they don't get too carried away." She promised halfheartedly before pulling out another apple and offering it to Katara as a peace offering.

Of course all their promises meant nothing to any of them.

The very next day, after a successful round of scamming, Orora was happily wandering the streets of the town to see what she could buy. Sokka, Toph and Aang were carrying out another scam, but Orora had wanted to shop.

Pocketing the winnings from the scam she had pulled with the younger girl, she walked around in search of a good clothing shop. With the Invasion drawing near, she wanted to make something for herself. She had no desire to defeat the Fire Nation wearing their colors.

Besides, she missed wearing blue.

Though her chances were slim, maybe she would be able to find something?

She passed through the center of the town, and the sight that greeted her, had her coming to an abrupt halt.

There in the middle of the town stood a tall statue of the current Fire Lord. Orora stood there, staring up at him. Pure hatred raged in her heart as she looked at the likeness. This was the man who had burned Zuko. Who had stood over a young boy, a boy trying to do good, and mercilessly burned half his face off.

"Hey Orora!" Aang's voice barely registered in her mind as she stood where she was. The young Avatar raced to her side, his own gaze lifting towards the all too daunting presence of the statue.

"Its strange to finally put a face to the name, isn't it?" Aang said as he stood beside her. Not breaking her stare, she spoke to him. 'How do you mean?"

Aang shrugged. "Well we've all heard about Fire Lord Ozai for months, and I had no idea what he looked like till I went to school." She nodded. "Yeah, but now we have someone to picture when we talk of him." A brief pause before Aang spoke again. "He was the one who gave Zuko the scar right?" She had told them briefly about how Zuko had gotten the scar, but hadn't gone into the details. His words prompted her to tense up, her hands clenching in fists at her sides as she gritted her teeth. Anger ran through her veins as she turned on her heel and began to walk away. Aang followed after her.

"Hey! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" The worry in his tone was what prompted her to finally halt and turn to him with a reassuring look. "You didn't Aang. I'm just angry at him for what he did to Zuko." Her gaze flickered to her string. "Which is strange because why should I be angry about what happened to him after what he did to me?" Aang's features morphed to an understanding yet sympathetic look as he took the older girl's hand in an effort to comfort her.

"Maybe because your feelings for him go a little more deeper then you realized." His statement had her frowning slightly, before she sighed and shook her head. "Well whatever the reason, I don't have time to think of him right now."

Forcing her thoughts to steer away from Zuko she instead smiled at Aang. "Come on! Help me find a fabric shop! I need to buy something!" Since they were still holding hands, she quickly led him away down the street in search of the aforementioned shop.

Leaving behind the statue of the man she hated.

Pushing aside the fact that her string had glowed red the entire time she had spoken with Aang, only disappearing when she finally entered the shop and began to browse the fabric, looking for the color she needed.

                                          ————————–

He had no idea what he was preparing for. During his training, he worked ten times harder. Be it perfecting his firebending forms, or practicing with his swords. His appetite had returned since he came back from Ember Island, resulting in him having more energy then he previously had.

While he did focus on the political part of his studies, he was no more interested in all the colonies the Fire Nation had created over the past hundred years. Not to mention the devastation caused.

The librarian had been a little surprised when Zuko had asked for those specific records, but everything was given to him because he was the Prince after all.

Everything the Fire Nation had done.

Every act of violence.

The number of people they had killed, not counting the entire Nation they had wiped out.

The resources that were being sent to the armies rather then being used by the general public.

The many many machines of war that had been created to support their so called cause.

The taxes imposed on the people to pay for the war.

The law stating every member of the family were to send two children to the front of the lines.

Nothing in all his findings told him anything about the Fire Nation actually contributing to the betterment of the world.

All they had done was take and leave nothing behind.

He remembered the time he had spent in the Earth Kingdom. All those people he had met on his journey. How in one way or another, every single one of them were effected by the Fire Nation.

The thousands of families displaced by the war.

The hundreds of families leaving behind their homes because it was no longer safe.

The children who had been orphaned.

The parents who had lost their children.

Soulmates who had lost their other half.

Uncle had lost his son.

Lu Ten had lost his life.

Aang lost his entire people.

Katara and Sokka lost their mother.

Song was scarred just like he was.

Lee had lost his brother.

Orora had almost been killed.

And so many countless others.

And all of them, had one thing in common.

They all hated the Fire Nation. No one respected them. They all feared and hated him and his people.

He hadn't helped in that belief by chasing Aang and his friends around the world. And then he had gone and betrayed Orora. Then he had sent that assassin after them.

Maybe Mai was right.

Maybe he did need to go out and find her. Tell her that he was beginning to think that the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se was the wrong one.

But how could he leave?

He couldn't just up and go, that would raise suspicion, and his father might send someone after him.

As he lay there with his hand held aloft so he could look at his glowing string, Zuko came to a decision.

The first chance he got, he would leave everything, find Orora, and join the people working against the Fire Nation to put a stop to it's tyrannical rule.

Once and for all.

                                          ————————–

Their escape from the newly named Combustion Man was a close call.

Too close.

In fact, it had put all of them on edge, and they'd taken to flying as far away from that town as possible.

In hindsight, maybe she should've discouraged them from telling scary stories as a way to unwind after their most stressful encounter yet. Orora had to admit, the place they had decided to make camp was spookier then any place they had spent the night at. Or maybe it was just her imagination, she mused to herself as they all sat around the fire.

"Water Tribe slumber parties must stink." Toph stated when one of Sokka's scary stories was not well-received. "I've never been to one, so I can't be the judge of that." The older girl put in her two thoughts, adding another dried stick to the fire the burned between them.

"No, wait! I've got one!" Katara spoke up from where she sat. "And this is a true Southern Water Tribe story."

Sokka rolled his eyes, not believing his sister. "Is this one of those 'a friend of my cousin knew some guy that this happened to' stories?" He said in a sarcastic tone, to which Katara shook her head.

"No, it happened to Mom." Upon hearing that, Sokka stiffened and everyone stopped moving as they sat in utter stillness, waiting for Katara to begin her story.

"One winter when Mom was a girl," She began, her voice low and soft. "A snowstorm buried the whole village for weeks. A month later, Mom noticed she hadn't seen her friend Nini since the storm. So Mom and some others went to check on Nini's family. When they got there, no one was home." A shiver ran down Orora's spine, her arms came to wrap around her legs as she hugged herself, eyes wide as she stared at Katara.

"Just a fire flickering in the fireplace. While the men went out to search, Mom stayed in the house. When she was alone, she heard a voice. 'It's so cold and I can't get warm!'" Sokka stiffened with fear, and even Toph gulped nervously where she sat. "Mom turned and saw Nini standing by the fire. She was blue like she was frozen. Mom ran outside for help, but when everyone came back, Nini was gone."

Aang used Momo's ears to cover his face in fear, while Orora quickly shifted to sit beside Toph, who didn't hesitate in grabbing her hand as they huddled together. Sokka, who had taken to hiding behind a gnarled tree stump peaked out. "Where'd she go?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Katara shook her head. "No one knows. Nini's house stands empty to this day, but sometimes, people see smoke coming up from the chimney, like little Nini is still trying to get warm." Orora glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected Nini to be standing right there behind her.

Suddenly Toph straightened up, placing her hand on the ground. "Wait! Guys, did you hear that?" Her movement was so sudden that Orora let out a broken shriek, while Aang, Katara and Sokka clutched at one another, staring around in fear.

"I hear people under the mountain. And they're screaming." Orora blinked. "Wh-what?" She gulped, ice blue eyes wide in fear as she stared around their small camp. Sokka, assuming Toph was just joking relaxed his grip around his sister and scoffed.

"Pfft! Nice try." Toph shook her head, her hand still pressed to the ground. "No, I'm serious. I hear something." She insisted, as Orora shifted to quickly sit beside Aang who was still hugging Katara. "Toph, cut it out. You're scaring everyone." She insisted, though even her voice sounded small and meek to her own ears.

A horde of physical enemies she could face any day, but spooky stories? That was a weakness her brothers had exploited when she had been younger.

"You're probably just jumpy from the ghost stories." Katara insisted, glancing at Aang and Orora in worry, who were both huddled together.

Toph frowned. "It just ... stopped." Aang gulped, clutching on to both Katara and Orora. "All right, now I'm getting scared."

Suddenly a voice called out through the darkness, soft and gentle. "Hello, children."

The camp rang loudly with the screams of said children as they scrambled around trying to find a place to hide. But then they all stopped when they saw what, or rather who had emerged from the shadows.

An elderly woman.

An elderly woman who turned out to be a Southern Water Tribe waterbender named Hama. Who told them all about what had happened during the Fire Nation raids, and how she had escaped them before hiding here.

It was all sad and heartbreaking, and yet, perhaps it was the scary stories still floating around in her mind, or perhaps it was her older sister instinct, or the fact that they were being hunted.

But somehow, Orora didn't trust Hama.

All because the old woman seemed to watch Katara's every move with a greedy, almost hungry, look on her face when she didn't think anyone was looking.

But Orora was.

Orora was always looking.

Always looking out for her family.

Which was why the night Hama told everyone what had happened to her, Orora pulled Sokka away from the rest of the dinner party to speak with him.

"Aww come on Orora! I was just going in for seconds!' He whined as she shut the door behind them and stepped outside in the night. She gave him a look that had him frowning. "Whats up?"

No sooner had he voiced his question before she spoke, making sure she kept her voice down. "Its just...." She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes looking around nervously. "I don't know something about this place and Hama makes me feel uneasy." She revealed to which Sokka nodded. "Well the stories of people disappearing certainly doesn't help." He added, to which Orora simply nodded.

Reaching out he gave her a comforting pat on the back. "Look, we're just gonna solve this mystery, then be on our way. Don't worry, we'll all be on our guard. And remember what Aang said, not everyone we run into is bad or out to get us." When she gave him an unconvincing look he sighed.

"Look, I get you would be nervous when it comes to trusting people, but you have all of us watching your back and each other's, so really there's no need to worry." And though Sokka's words did bring her some comfort, Orora still remained alert, not wanting to be caught off guard.

Of course, that amounted to nothing when the very next morning, Hama asked to see her under the pretense of having her get something from the market, only to knock her out from behind and drag her away into the forest.

Orora woke just as Hama was tying her wrists and feet to keep her from running away. Still groggy from the hit to the back of her head, which was still hurting, Orora was barely aware of where she was as she watched the old crone go about securing her.

"You know, when the first raid happened, we sent a message to our sister Nation, begging for help. To send reinforcements." Hama spoke once she was satisfied with her bonds. A filthy rag was wrapped around her mouth to keep her from screaming. Despite the pain, the young waterbender was able to glare fiercely at Hama, anger burning in her ice blue eyes.

"Of course being so far away, they couldn't send help in time. But my brothers and sisters did hold out during our first few months in our cells. Thinking that perhaps our Northern brothers and sisters would come to rescue us." She turned her hateful gaze towards the young girl, who glared right back.

"However, with every full moon that passed, we realized that no help was coming. And whatever hope we had of escaping slowly died. And though I realize you are not directly responsible for your forefathers actions." The old crone leaned down right in Orora's face as she smiled coldly at her. "Holding you accountable is the next best thing."

Orora felt herself grow cold, her mind racing with all the possibilities that Hama would carry out on her out of the anger and hatred that had festered in her for so long.

Running her long bony fingers through the white patch of her hair in a condescending manner, Hama hummed as she smiled. "Now, why don't you wait here while I have a one-on-one lesson with your friend Katara."

Her fear for Katara triumphed her own own fear. She tried her best struggling and thrashing to get away, but Hama was strong, stronger then she looked. Pulling on the rope, she was able to tie Orora to a tree, tight and secure her there.

"I'll be back for you." She promised, before walking off, leaving the girl to struggle and call out into the wind, her voice muffled and barely audible.

The entire day she pulled and thrashed, trying to free herself. Her wrists began to ache and she knew she had split the skin from where the ropes burned against her. Even her ankles burned, and her throat ached from screaming.

All that for nothing.

Finally, during mid afternoon, she gave up. Her head hung to the side as she began to doze off, the occurrences of the day getting to her. Tears of frustration burned her eyes at every waking interval, as she cursed her own stupidity, and for not listening to her instincts.

She was worried.

Worried for her friends. But especially for Katara.

What would Hama do to her?

All day long, the questions and scenarios plagued her mind. Slowly, the sun set and the sounds of the night roused her from her half-asleep stupor. The bright light from the moon shone down on her, prompting her to inhale deeply, taking in the strength it provided her with. Her tired body gained a little strength, though the back of her head still stung from where she had been hit.

Suddenly, she heard voices.

Her ears pricked up and she focused on the voices that approached her.

Hama and Katara.

Instantly she began to squirm and pull at her restraints. She could feel the dried blood on her wrists split as fresh blood oozed out.

"And to make sure, you learn what I have to teach you, I brought a little incentive."

Suddenly Hama appeared in her view, making her recoil in fright. The old woman worked quickly, untying her from the tree and pulling her towards the clearing where Katara was standing.

"Orora!" Katara's shocked voice cut through the night, echoing the clearing as the older girl lay battered and bruised at the old woman's feet. "What have you done to her? Let her go!" She demanded, stepping forward, to which Hama held up a placating hand.

"What I'm about to show you." Hama began, glaring down at Orora in a menacing manner before turning her attention back to Katara. "I discovered in that wretched Fire Nation prison."

Orora only caught snippets of the story, trying hard not to pass out from the pain that radiated from her head. It was so difficult to focus when all she could pay attention to was the stricken look on Katara's face. But she did manage to catch the important parts of the story.

Hama had created a new sub-form of waterbending.

One that allowed her to control the water within any living creature.

Bloodbending, she called it.

"Once you perfect this technique, you can control anything or anyone." Hama continued, her gaze dropping to Orora who tried her best to glare back at her.

Katara shook her head. "But..... to reach inside someone and control them? I don't know if I want that kind of power." She said, casting a worried look in Orora's direction.

Hama shook her head. "The choice is not yours. The power exists. And it's your duty to use the gifts you've been given to win this war." she urged, before appealing to Katara's kind nature. "Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother!"

Katara closed her eyes, thinking of her mother. "I know." She whispered.

"And our sister Tribe did nothing to help." Hama added, glaring down at Orora. "You should understand what I'm talking about! We're the last two waterbenders of the Southern Tribe. We have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary!" She concluded, that scary, desperate and mad gleam coming to her eyes once more.

Katara's eyes widened in shock. "It's you! You're the one who's been making people disappear during the full moons!" Her gaze flickered to Orora. "Let Orora go! Now!"

In response, Hama simply growled. "They threw me in prison to rot, along with my brothers and sisters! And her people did nothing to help! They all deserve the same! You must carry on my work!"

The younger waterbender shook her head, pointing at Hama. "I won't!" Pride swelled in Orora as she watched her friend stand up for what was right. "I won't use bloodbending and I won't allow you to keep terrorizing this town!"

Suddenly Orora felt her entire body freeze up. A horrified gasp was muffled by the cloth around her mouth as she felt her entire body lift from the ground, the bonds fell from around her wrists and ankles as her arms and legs contorting in unnatural angles, her head falling to the side.

Her eyes widened in horror, as she tried, but failed, to move her limbs.

"You should've learned the technique before you turned against me!" Hama's voice came, snapping her out of her terrified state. Her eyes were all that she could control as they darted around, trying to see what was going on, and to escape. "It's impossible to fight your way out of my grip! I control every muscle, every vein in your body!"

With swift motions of her hands and arms, Hama used bloodbending to bring them both side by side before beginning to throw them around. The first swing had Orora crashing through branches, the sharp edges scratching her skin as she went. Somehow, her rag loosened from around her mouth, allowing her cries of pain to echo all around her.

Hama slammed her onto the ground, making her hit her head. She paused briefly with Katara, as turned her attention on Orora instead. "I'll deal with you later." She hissed, before throwing the girl to the side. Her helpless body slammed against a tree trunk, which shuddered from the impact.

The hit was enough for her to drop to the floor and for her vision to go black.

Orora's ears rang with the sound of Katara pleading and crying for Hama to stop, before everything went black.

She roused to someone shaking her shoulder.

Ice blue eyes snapped open. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she sat up, arms held aloft and at the ready to defend herself. Only to be greeted by the sight of Sokka leaning over her with a worried look. He'd barely opened his mouth to say something when something or rather someone over his eye caught her attention.

Katara.

Sobbing hysterically as Aang held her.

Her entire body screamed with pain, and yet she pushed past Sokka, barely noticing the various cuts and bruises her whole body supported. Aang pulled back a little from his embrace, looking at Orora in a helpless manner. The older girl wasted no time.

She wrapped her arms around the younger girl in a fierce and protective embrace, holding her close. Katara, realizing who was holding her, began to cry anew, burying her face in Orora's chest, her entire body shaking with each sob that wrecked through her. Orora could feel her own emotions welling to the surface, prompting tears to silently cascade down her cheeks as she held and did her best to comfort her sister.

It took awhile for them both to calm down, but once they were, they didn't waste any time climbing atop Appa and flying away into the night.

Katara sat next to her brother, leaning against him for support. Aang sat on Appa's head, though every now and then he would glance back at his soulmate in worry. Toph sat next to Orora who had Momo in her lap. "You should heal yourself." Toph spoke softly, reaching out to place her water satchel in her hands. The girl gave a nod, pulling out the water and healing the injury to the back of her head, the open wounds on her wrists and around her ankles, as well as the various cuts that littered her any skin that wasn't covered in fabric.

It was a little slow work, since her limbs felt stiff. Not to mention her whole body ached. From being thrown against a tree or because Hama controlled her entire body. She didn't know. It was a truly terrifying experience. Not being able to control her actions and being at the mercy of a mad woman.

Once done, she threw the water to the side since it was mixed with blood and dirt.

Her mind was still heavy with all that she had endured, but nothing could compare to what Katara was feeling. She pursed her lips as she stared worriedly at the younger girl. Her gaze met Sokka's who shared in her worry.

Walking on her knees, she was able to catch Aang's attention, who came to sit on Katara's other side. Guiding Toph to sit beside her, with Aang on her right side, Orora reached out and took Katara's hands.

"I think we've shared enough scary stories." Everyone, minus Katara, gave weak smiles at her attempt to make a joke. "We could all do with something a little more brighter and happier." Katara raised her red-rimmed eyes at her, her usually bright blue eyes looking so dull and hopeless that it broke her own heart. "So I'm going to recite this poem I love, about two soulmates, and the love they had for one another. Sound good?"

When no objection came, she nodded. Closing her eyes briefly, she cleared her throat and began to speak.

Her voice was soft and gentle, the words hopeful and full of love. So unlike everything they had faced in the past few days. Maybe it was the poem or maybe it was the fact that they were all together, and they were safe.

Whatever it was, it helped.

And slowly, gradually, eventually, the darkness around them began to lift.

                                          ————————–

He was dreaming.

It had been a long while since he had dreamed.

Or rather dreamed of her.

And yet, there she was, standing there with his back to him, staring out at the open ocean that gleamed under the light of the full moon.

He slowly walked up to her, unable to hesitate or even think it through. Why? Because he wanted to be near her. He wanted to see her face. In that moment nothing else mattered. Not the beautiful scenery or that this was all in his head.

He just missed her so much.

Once he reached her, he was surprised to see that she was crying. Her eyes were closed, and tears were sliding down her cheeks, every tear gleaming like a diamond against her beautiful skin.

Where he had been unable to approach her when she had appeared to him crying once before, this time Zuko didn't even think about what he had to do.

He reached up, cupping her face, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him.

Sorrowful blue met gentle warm amber.

His thumb wiped at a tear that escaped her gorgeous eyes. Call it wishful thinking, but maybe she leaned into his touch a little, as if drawing comfort from him. His head leaned down, pressing their forehead together, their noses brushing.

This was all a dream. Zuko knew that.

So then why did it all feel so real?

"I'll come back to you." He whispered, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him, the surprise clear across her features. "I promise." So saying, he shifted so his lips could press against the middle of her forehead in a tender kiss. Orora closed her eyes again, relishing in his presence, one that she had so sorely missed and yet had never admitted to herself that she did.

He pulled back, but only to hold up the finger that had his string tied around it. Of course, if was glowing a bright blue. Orora's eyes widened, and he knew she saw the color. Slowly, she lifted her own finger, showing the red hue that gleamed there, warm and bright. Zuko couldn't help the breathless laugh of happiness that escaped his lips. The sound prompted a smile to form on Orora's lips as she allowed their fingers to intertwine, allowing whatever length was left between their strings to completely disappear. Their gazes met.

"I'll be waiting."

                                          ————————–

When she awoke, there was a warmth on her forehead where Zuko had kissed her. Her string glowed a bright red through the day.

                                          ————————–

When he awoke, there was a warmth in his heart and a lightness to his soul. His string glowed a bright blue throughout the day.

                                          ————————–

And it scared her.

                                          ————————–

And it gave him strength.

                                           ————————–

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[missyandthemisfits]

Souya ‘Angry’ Kawata - Big Sis Baji

A/N - Hey so got a couple different headcannon ideas floating around for this one, but I feel like Baji might only really approve of his sister dating a few folks - Souya is one of the few. Couldn’t stop writing this I love Bluebell so much 💙

Anywho

Souya ‘Angry’ Kawata x Baji’s Older Sister 

. • . O . • .

• It goes without saying that Souya would not only fall hard, but pretty damn quickly after a friendship has been established- but let’s backtrack a bit-

• Souya meets (Name) at a Toman meeting one evening, the meeting adjourned pretty quickly due to the low, consistent growl of Mikey’s stomach

Good thing it was informal, just the Captains and Vice Captains of each division, maybe one or two others 

But honestly, that begged an even bigger question; who was this vaguely familiar dark haired beauty? And what was she doing talking with Mikey and Draken so casually?

He was just about to shrug it off when Baji approached 

“There a reason you tossin’ that mean mug at my sister?”

Baji was half joking … but also half serious

He knew Angry meant no harm but it still sort of ticked him off - he’s very protective of his own when it comes down to it

“Huh?!”

- Is what Angry said, vein popping as he stuck his neck out. Now what he meant by that was ‘Was I really?’ 

We all know this boy is kinda bad at communicating with people

“There a problem here?” Nahoya chimes, already itching for a fight, any excuse would do

“Keisuke! Are you picking fights again?”

The dark haired beauty in question huffs over, stern look, hands on her admittedly curvy hips

“Relax-,” She reaches up, yanking on his ear with no remorse 

“How can I? God, all this time and you’re still causing me trouble!” 

Nahoya is hysterical at the sight of Baji’s embarrassed, defeated face. Souya on the other hand starts to grow flustered, finally putting the pieces together 

“I’m sorry about him!” She bows a bit in apology, an ear still between her soft fingers, “You’re um… Souya and Nahoya, right?”

Souya opens his mouth to speak but Nahoya beats him to the punch

“Yea, what of it? Who the Hell are ya, anyway?”

Souya gives his brother a look but she only laughs, completely unfazed 

“She’s in our class, Nahoya…,”

“Oh yeeea, must’ve been catching some Z’s or somethin’. My bad!”

Souya shakes his head and she suddenly grabs his hands in both of hers, successfully startling him

“Well it’s nice to meet you both again. I hope we can be friends!” 

He’s flustered, eyes on the ground, but stutters out a small “yea…”

From then on, at least when they decided to show up to class, she makes a point to eat lunch with them, occasionally walking them to Toman meetings 

She’s much kinder and more bubbly than what they expect, not to mention a total Otaku - something Nahoya found hilarious but Souya silently found cute

She was also very stubborn but that apple didn’t fall too far at all

Doesn’t take Nahoya too much longer to start making excuses as to why he can’t tag along - Souya is seriously confused, and honestly worried his brother has an issue with (Name) - he could be fickle like that

“Nah, she’s cool. For a girl anyway.”

Blue is even more confused

“Then…what’s up?”

Smiley starts to snicker, Angry’s brow furrows 

“Ya like her, don’t you?”

Souya feels something tug at his heartstrings-

Did he…?

He definitely enjoyed her company - the evening visits to Convenience Stores, the late night chats about the latest chapters of whatever manga, even the study sessions were pleasant. 

And at some point he’d gotten used to it- pretending his palms weren’t sweaty, ignoring his racing heart rate, chalking up the absent minded stares to ‘looking out for her’ in his mind, somehow oblivious to the fact he couldn’t keep his eyes off her-

It…was starting to make some real sense

He took a moment to exhale shakily and nodded, face the color of beets. Nahoya shrugged 

“Sooo…ask her out already.”

“WHAT?!?”

He’s panicking at just the thought, rattling off a million and one excuses like ‘She probably already has someone’ and ‘Her friendship is more than enough’

UGH so sweet, so obviously smitten

Only takes a few more days for Nahoya to lose patience & snatch his phone, typing up a message and hovering over ‘send’ devilishly 

“Either you send it or I do - what’s it gonna be?” 

Souya is mortified as he begrudgingly hits ‘send’, burying his hands into his thick hair after dropping his phone to the carpeted floor

“I can’t do this-,”

“Seriously? All you did was send ‘Can we talk’ - quit bein a wuss.”

They start to get into it and almost miss the vibration, both peering down at the screen

‘Sure! Your place or mine?’

He scrambles to get his phone before his twin, barely getting a ‘I’ll come to you!’ in before having his phone stolen again

“Wear something cute~,” Nahoya mouths the text out, pressing send before tossing the phone at his brother 

Doesn’t know  whether to be pissed, scared, or excited at this point- so be settles for a jittery combination of the three

Puts on his cleanest pair of khakis and a semi-formal, sleeved shirt because??? Reasons??? So cute bless him 

She put on just a little bit of makeup, flowy dress stopping mid-thigh, as if this wasn’t difficult enough for the boy

So nervous he’s having trouble standing - but manages to squeak out something -

His face is covered by his shaking hand and his eyes are squeezed shut, his other hand in a death-grip on his trousers

“I’m sorry…? I didn’t quite catch that one, Souya-,”

Blurts it out louder than he meant to this time, backpedaling IMMEDIATELY in an attempt to take it all back

“I- no- what I mean is- ah-,” starts to give up, “You can just…go home now…I already know it’s a long shot. Sorry I wasted your time…”

Refuses to look up

She’s hugging him close in the next moment tho burying her face into his shirt.

“Please don’t make me leave…not before I tell you I like you too.” 

He is SO shocked

Like his legs start to give out

Eventually wraps his shaky arms around her and buries his face in her sweet-smelling hair

They’re there like that for a while 

Neither of them wants to let go but eventually, a text comes through from Nahoya and Souya jumps

“S-sorry,” she waves it off, “I can…walk you up stairs if you’d like? I-I mean if that’s s-something you want!”

She shakes her head and smiles, glancing back at the apartment window

“I’ll be okay from here. Besides, my dad would totally kill me if I brought up a cute boy, or any boy for that matter-,”

His heart starts beating faster if you can believe it - so much so  he almost thinks he’s having a heart attack 

“Well… Goodnight.” She squeezes his hand before reluctantly letting go and waving, practically running back into her apartment building

He’s just…on cloud 9

Total romantic though so eventually he decided that the confession wasn’t nearly enough for this girl

Writes an entire love letter and places it in her locker, finding officially asking her out much easier that way

Before he knows it, she’s racing to embrace him outside the school gates, pulling away just enough to hold his hands gingerly with a laugh

“Honestly, I thought we were official already, but yes a thousand times yes, Souya.” 

His face heats up like it has many times before

Can’t help but tear up a little

…Keisuke is one of the last people to know funnily enough

Shocked but not bothered so that’s good

Dassa green light

In The Relationship 

Souya is so very sweet, everything done with timid, thoughtful care

Long before they even started dating, she happened to try his bento once and loved it - made mental notes on her likes and dislikes about it and started curtailing it specifically for her enjoyment 

So yes absolutely he starts making her lunch for her twice a week - she promises she’ll be just fine without it, he swears he enjoys doing it for her - he really does tho 

Random food based games like ‘Guess the secret ingredient’ after he’s comfortable enough to know she wouldn’t mind it

Grocery shopping dates, because he loves the market

Dates to anime cafes because a) she’s really into anime and b) he finally has a reason to go and try the food there - Nahoya promised he would but he’s far too easily distracted and forgetful 

Also yea, Baji’s sister? Kind of flirty when she’s interested in someone so like she flusters him on accident AND on purpose?

Definitely super cute when he’s all blushy and squirmy tho

Takes MONTHS to get to the FIRST kiss - and she’s most def initiating it, no way around that

Typically will initiate all the kisses but there are telltale signs when he wants one

Starts to play with his hands, his eyes darting from her lips, to the ground, to whatever’s in this distance, back to her lips 

Teasingly presses her nose to his, nuzzling and lying in wait occasionally 

“You’re gonna have to kiss me at some point ~”

And he does eventually work up the nerve to close the very small distance 

She becomes the official taste tester for both twins, quite the honor 

His love language is light physical affection and words of affirmation 

Absolutely melts at the lightest caress to his cheek, subconsciously leaning into it every time 

Compliments are NOT something he’s used to but boy does he love them, all of them 

They make him all tingly but the real personal ones about how pretty his eyes are or how soft his hair is or how cute he looked in that outfit last night?

He could just die and go to Heaven on the spot 

Petnames include “Angel, Honeybee, and Sweetness” 

Apologized profusely the first time he let one slip out

But she reaches for his hands, removing them from his face, and places gentle kisses on each fingertip, something she often did when he was overwhelmed - and once again he finds himself melting into her touch

So very, very soft for this girl 

Bonus 

Keisuke honestly had no idea his sister was into one of the ‘ogres’ - granted he didn’t get to see her much after the divorce

He was fairly curious as to why she chose him

“He’s so very kind and honest…always going out of his way to help his friends and family selflessly. And have you tried his cooking? It’s so good! How could I not fall for him?”

He smirked from his spot on the swing set, satisfied with answer

“Yea alright…just don’t go having any babies, I’m not ready to be an uncle.”

“What the Hell, Kei?!”

He laughed as she punched him square in the arm

As long as she was cared for and happy

. • . O . • .

[rayrayvan]

The great war

Pairing: Shuri x fem!reader

Warning: Mentions of drowning, abduction, death, angst, and spoilers.

Marital problems have been surfacing since T’Challa, Shuri’s brother, died.

She’s been busy and distant with you. She Barely left the lab. Although you were known to be the most patient and understanding person, you were at your limit now.

Fights and arguments arise. It ranges from silly which can be resolved in a day to more serious which would last for a week. Now was one of those intense fights you both have.

As you enter the lab, you told all scientists to leave you two “What are doing?” She asked with annoyance “I’m here to talk to you” You told her “About what? What is it about this time? Cause all I’m hearing from you is how I left a dirty cup in the sink or how I come I never went out with you. Now tell me what complaint you have installed from me again” She angrily said “It’s different” You replied to her, matching her tone “What is different about this time? You know you’ve be-“” Why didn’t you tell me about your mission with Okoye” You opened up to her “Because you’ll make a big fuss out of it and maybe this mission would work,” She said fully facing you right now “Fuss? I worry about your safety and what would work?” You asked her slightly confused about what she told you “Maybe this mission would give us some space from one another. We’ve been fighting over the silliest things and sometimes ignore each other for a day or even a week” She explained

It wasn’t only you two who knows about your fights, it’s the whole palace and maybe she’s right, maybe this mission would give you time to think through things “Okay, I understand” You agreed to what she told you “Come on don’t do this” She said because she knows what’s going on in your head right now “I didn’t do anything, I simply agreed to what you want and I’ll allow it cause you’re right, we need space from one another cause all we’ve been doing is fight each other” You bow your head down to not let her see the tears that's falling in your face "Sthandwa, not like this" She pleaded you "No, no Shuri you're right, it's fine to take the time you need really" You sniffled and hastily wipe the tears that are still at bay.

You faced her with a lip-tight smile "I just want you to be safe okay?" You placed your right hand on her cheek and she leaned into your touch " Wait for me okay?" She asked and you nodded. When you can't keep the tears at bay anymore, you hugged her tight "We'll fix this, okay, tell we'll fix this" You pleaded in her ear. Her own heart was breaking and she hugged you back "We will" She whispered in your ear. She rubbed her hand on your back in a comforting manner as you sobbed. When you eventually calm down, you pulled away slightly but never let her go. She raised both her hands and place them on either side of your cheek. She leaned her forehead to press against yours, intimate but you know what it meant, 'goodbye for now'

"I'll be back okay" She kisses your forehead, longer than it should have and when she pulled away, she pulled away from your grasp and walked away from where you were standing. Okoye was waiting outside, waiting for the princess so that they'll get going.

As she leaves you inside the lab, your knees became weak which caused you to fall. You wept even harder, holding your chest tighter. Of course, the Queen saw your interactions with your daughter, and when she said goodbye to her daughter, she went inside and approached you. She bent down and hugged you close, wrapping you in her arms "Shhh, she'll be back little one" She tried to comfort you and she pulled you up because you have to be strong and that this is only a patchy road that every couple experiences. That day was dreadful for both of you.

==========∞==========∞=============

"What?!" You shouted upon learning that Shuri and the scientist were abducted by this, sea God. You were inside the throne room, standing beside Queen Ramonda " You were with her, how could you let this happen?" You asked the General "My queen, my lady, they were too powerful. I've tried to strike all of them with my spear thinking I killed them but they would be alive again" Okoye tried to explain her side "You failed to protect the princess, you convinced me to let the princess come with you when I said no. You are stripped down from your title until further notice" Okoye stood stunned and when the Dora Milage stump their spears in unison, it was clear that her role as General was done. She tried to gaze upon you, but like the Queen, your gaze held anger. You felt angry and guilty, guilty of not being able to protect your wife, and now she's held captive by this Talokan people.

When the council was released, you were about to walk out when the Queen called out for you "We will need help" She said and you question her where "Let's go to Haiti" That's all she said "Prepare the aircraft" She told you and you nodded. You were still questioned as to who she wanted to meet in Haiti but you have a strong feeling that you know who it was.

==========∞==========∞=============

"She's amazing," Riri said as Shuri was done telling her about you "I know, that's why I married her" Shuri proudly say but was quickly deflated "I miss her," She said. Shuri didn't want to share about your problems and what both of you were facing right now. "Well I'm not an expert but I asked my grandma what was the secret to a long-lasting marriage, she simply said, "it's a secret that only the couple knows" which kinda made sense but hey I was a kid back then," Riri told her. Her grandma is right, the secret is just between you two.

As she gets quieter, she thought of the happy days. The day you two got married. It was after the blip, she proposed to you after you both returned after being snapped. Afraid of losing you again. As she got deeper, she remembered the fights. She thought about it and you were so patient with her, but she was abusing that. She never realized how she abused the patience you held for her and those fights were a sign that the thread was running thin now.

Oh, how she wishes she could go to you right now and hug you tight. Her train of thought was broken when a Talokan guard was shot dead. Riri and Shuri sat up to see who it was. "Nakia, this could cause war" Shuri angrily told her "Your mother and your wife are looking for you right now," Nakia said and rushed the two of them to escape.

==========∞==========∞=============

When Grio announced the arrival of the three, you couldn't help but rush to Shuri. You slammed your body against hers and hugged her tight. When you pulled away you spoke, "I'm glad you're safe, are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" You frantically asked and searched everywhere if there was a sign of injury "No but I'm here now" She assured you and she placed both her hands against each side of your cheek and caresses them to know she was here and well. You smiled genuinely that time and wrapped your arms again to hold her again. She hugged you back with one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head. You were glad she was safe and here in your arms.

When she introduced you to Riri, she guided you to her with her hand around your waist. "You must be Y/N, your girl talks about you a lot," Riri said which made Shuri shush her. You chuckled of course and chat with Riri. She tells you about what happened and that she's sorry for what she did. You love talking to her and as Shuri stood by your side, looking over you and it's like how she felt at the beginning of your relationship. She's falling in love with you all over again, she couldn't help but lean in and kiss your forehead.

==========∞==========∞=============

Shuri explained how there's a possibility of a war happening. The four of you were at the throne room finding a strategy to end this war when suddenly, sounds of surging waters and screams were heard in the city. Shuri volunteered to go to the city and save people as many as she could.

As the three of you were standing inside the throne room, looking for Kukulkaan, you saw him looking for something and when he saw what he was looking for, he approached it.

He flies over to where the three of you were located. You know what he wants so you stood a little closer to where the Queen was and stood beside her. "He wants me, so take Riri to safe a place," She says but you weren't having it. Your wife was kidnapped, and you didn't want any harm to be brought upon the family anymore, so you called Riri to take the Queen away. But the three of you halted when Namor stared at the three of you and when his gaze went to Riri, he turned around and flew away. "Riri now, take the queen to a safe location now" You commanded "What about you?" Riri asked "I'll hold him off but for now, go," You said as you saw Namor flying back and holding a lot of water bombs in his hands. "We can't leave you here" The Queen called out for you but before you could reply, you felt water gushing inside the throne room. Namor has thrown all the bombs before you could even attack him.

Shuri saw the scene unfold and told Okoye to drive faster to get to you and her mother. “Okoye faster now!” Shouted the former general.

You took the blow and the three of you sunk into the depths of the water. When you eventually gained consciousness and saw the Queen and Riri who had fallen with you, you swam towards them and held them to swim back to the surface. Along the way, the queen regained her conscious back and helped you swim back up.

When you three reached the surface area, the queen helped Riri up, but slowly you lose consciousness and when dark spots begin to invade your vision, you lost it completely. Suddenly, Nakia arrived so she helped the Queen to save both of you. When Shuri arrived, she saw her mother well, but when her eyes fell on who Nakia was saving, her heart sank. She tried to reach towards you, but M'baku was there and held her tight "Sthandwa, don't do this to me now!" She screamed as Nakia was still trying to save you. Riri started coughing the water out, so the Queen turned her sideways.

"Y/N you can't do this to me, not now!" She screamed again. Queen Ramonda was quick to hold her daughter down, but Shuri wasn't calming down anytime soon until she hears you cough out the water in your system.

"Come back Y/N!" She screamed again, desperate to be by your side, trying to flee out of M'baku and her mother's grip. "Help me, Sthandwa!" She screamed over and over again as Nakia attempted to save you.

a/n: correct me cause I know there are a lot of errors but I missed them.

[minbbyyoongi]

You Ride with Me Tonight. Pt. 2

——

I know I said I was gonna wait and get input on this but I got excited and wrote what I wanted anyway :)

ps. This has not been spell checked or edited this is rogue :))

——

Genres: Kinda angsty, will eventually be smut, au where they’re just a bit more bold

Warnings: very handsy, sexual implications, nothing too serious yet

The Ride

———————————————————————————

You didn’t know what to think. Normally, the boys left out the back immediately and you would wait with the other producers until the audience cleared out. But this wasn’t normal, you hadn’t ever been publicly associated with the group, and now here you were on live tv practically sitting on Hobi’s lap.

When the boys finished their performance and the curtains closed, they all shook hands with Jimmy, as did you, and bowed out to get back to the hotel. J-Hope made a point to be last, giving Jimmy a big hug and even bigger smile. On his way past you he grabbed your wrist and pulled you with him towards the van. The rest of the group had already loaded up, and the only spaces left were in the middle row, right next to Yoongi. It’s like they planned this, seeing the four boys piled in the three seats in the back. Hobi ushered you into the seat and followed behind you, shutting the door. He leaned into your neck and whispered;

“You ride with me tonight”

You couldn’t help what happened next. As the driver takes off, you roll over a speed bump and gasp, failing to cover the slight moan his breath on your throat pulls from you. Your body reacted on instinct, leaning into his words to feel his lips meet your neck. You slap your hand over your mouth and retreat back to your own space, sitting up straight and hiding behind your fingers. You were not going to survive this.

You had spent 6 months with these men so far, learning their bodies and the ways they can move. Guiding them as best you can to find their own confidence in dance. That, however, meant very close physical contact often, and you were not immune to your nature. These men are carved out of porcelain like walking Greek Gods. You’ve stayed up late thinking about the way Hobi moves his hips, and how Yoongi bites his lips when he’s really feeling himself. The things they could do to you..

Your retreat did not go unnoticed, the boys in the back stopping their conversation at the sound of your hand hitting your mouth. Jungkook, being the youngest, was forced on the laps of his elders in the back row. He leaned forward, putting his head directly between you and Hoseok, and turned to look at you.

“You okay Y/n?”

You closed your eyes for a moment and swallowed, placing your hand back in your lap and smiling.

“Yes Kookie, my breath got caught in my throat when we went over that bump back there. I’m okay.”

He seemed to believe you, smiling back at you and nodding, he returned to his mates to continue their discussion. You breathed a sigh of relief, temporarily calming your nerves. This, however, did not last.

The driver and Namjoon are deep in conversation about New York, and you’re trying to listen to what the driver is saying about restaurants when you feel a cold hand slide onto your thigh. You looked down in confusion, Hoseok did not have cold hands, and he was not sitting on your left. You followed the slim fingers up dark veins until you met Yoongi’s gaze. This time your breath really did catch in your throat, struggling to comprehend not one, but two of them coming onto you in succession.

Yoongi’s fingers slid over your thigh to reach where it met your other, not breaking eye contact, he squeezed at your leg and winked. This, you assumed, was a signal. Hoseok’s warm hand met your waist, just underneath where your shirt met your pants. Together their fingers gently prodded at your skin, kneading into you as you finally broke your staring contest with Yoongi. You bowed your head and took a deep breath, letting it out shakily as you tried to take back control of your thoughts. Everyone is in this van together. This cannot be happening, they can’t be doing this, somebody is going to notice, I can’t stop myself from-

“Don’t worry baby”

You felt Yoongi’s nose brush against your ear.

“We’ll take care of you”

Hoseok leaned into your side, hand sliding across your back and lips breathing his words into your neck again. Your whole body tensed, caught between overthinking and giving in. Their hands felt so good on your skin, and you didn’t want this to stop, but it was all happening so fast. Hoseok pulled at your belt loop with his hand across your back, lifting your skirt up just enough for Yoongi to inch his hand closer to your center.

You were like putty at their fingertips, melting into every little movement and holding back all the sounds that threaten to leave your lips. Yoongi leaned into you harder as he moved his hand, catching your ear between his teeth, he swiped at it with his tongue before biting at it gently and closing his lips around it. You couldn’t help but lean into his mouth, exposing your neck to a waiting Hoseok who licked a thin stripe up your neck. This was it, there was no way you could hold yourself back and stay quie-

“We’re here.”

The boys retracted their hands and their tongues, sitting up straight and relaxed as if nothing had happened seconds before. You felt significantly less composed, you could feel the saliva on your neck from Hoseok, you knew your skirt was hiked up just a little bit too much on Yoongi’s side. But you took advantage of the hustle of everyone unbuckling and adjusted your hair and your clothes, trying to keep your gaze down.

Everyone unloaded the van and started walking into the hotel. Management had already checked in for you guys so it was straight to the elevators and up, having received your keycard at the studio alongside the boys. Everyone was on the 33rd floor, and you all piled into one glass elevator to get to the top. Smooshed into the back with 8 people occupying the space, you feel your ass press against the glass where a hand lay, grabbing at your skirt and on display for anyone looking at the elevators from the ground floor.

You snap your head to the right to see Hoseok smirking, eyeing you as he slides his fingers down, to dip below your skirt. He hooks them up and just barely brushes against your cloth covered core. This causes you to squeeze your thighs together and bow your head, desperately keeping your groan at bay. Yoongi, who had been infront of the two of you this whole time, turns around and settles his knee between your legs, forcing Hoseok’s fingers to press deeper into you while his leg puts pressure on your clit.

You throw your head back, leaning against the glass wall of the elevator you stare at Hoseok as you grind into the thigh between your legs, feeling his fingers push against your hole.

The elevator rises counting off the floors in a robotic voice, and like the flip of a switch floor 32 is announced and both men have returned to their own space and suddenly learned how to keep their hands to themselves. Everyone unloads from the elevator, never looking back or considering what happened behind them, and splits off to their rooms. Jin and Namjoon share a suite, as do Hoseok and Yoongi of course, and the younger three boys share one room. You, coincidentally, get a room to yourself, though not nearly as big or decked out as the boys.

You keep your head down and walk towards the end of the hall to round the corner, your smaller room was a few turns away from the suites the boys got to stay in. You passed the last ornately designed hotel door, the “Celebrity Suites” offered by the hotel, and a hand caught the back belt loop on your skirt. You turn around to see Hoseok and Yoongi leaning out of their door, the hand of the latter still gripping at your bottoms.

“We’re not done with you yet.”

[carpememes]

Bluey Sentence Starters pt 1/?

“I slipped on ma' beans!”

“If your friend wants chippies, she's gotta pay for chippies."

“Dear child, embrace your father!”

"It's DAD!"

"That's not how grown ups work, kid." "But that's how kids work!"

"Ow! My back! My neck! My back and my neck!"

"Awh! After all I've done for this family."

"Probably get about five bucks for the pair of you."

"Don't worry about the sun! It's meant to be there."

"Can I help you?" "Wish you could, mate."

"What? How very dare you!"

"Ding ding ding! You lose!

"I am not dad. I am Magic Claw. Magic Claw has no children. His days are free and easy."

“Biscuits!”

"Obstacles do not block the path. They ARE the path."

“It’s less than ideal, but it’s still a win!”

“See, I know some stuff!”

“Hey, you always make me laugh.”

"I'm not taking advice from a cartoon dog."

"It's just monkey's singing songs, mate. Don't think too hard about it."

"Interesting plan. I know, how about this plan? I'll do what I want, and you don't tell me what to do."

“Ride Flamingo, RIIIIIDE!”

“I was saving that chippy...”

“Check out my big bum!”

“Who said you can have all that green stuff?”

“Hey Twinkle Toes, hurry up!”

“Would you mind keeping it down?”

“Is that an okay thing to want?”

“I can’t be happy with what I got when she has it better!”

“You can’t just get out of a helicopter in the middle of the sky!”

“...and the fridge doesn’t like me.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m doing this for my kid.”

“I LIKE STINKY!”

“Look, I just want us to use nice words so everyone thinks we’re a nice family.”

“But I’m much too scared to travel in the outside world!”

“Nooo! I wanna stay in my bad mood!”

“Who ate the mini cereal?”

“Hey no fair, I want a husband too!”

"If you want me to stay your wife, you'll learn about dishwashers."

“I'm veeeeeeeery busy.”

“If you keep being mean and greedy, then no one will want to be your friend!”

“Why would you want to watch some stinky baby have a shower?”

“There must be a reason why you’re being such a pickle tonight.”

“ YOU'RE MAKING ME LATE FOR WORK!”

“Why can’t you do what you’re told?”

"Whoa. I didn't think this through."

"It was the fairies!"

"Bed. Sleep. Now."

“You've still got it, babe.”

“I’m fine, just ignore this.”

“Ah, this is Heaven!”

“This changes everything.”

“Who wrote this?”

“I’m always here if you need me.”

“It’s everything we want.”

“Boring things are still important.”

“COCONUTS HAVE WATER IN THEM!!”

“Me want books for big boys.“

“Are you not entertained??”

“You’re doing great.”

“Is true love not forever?”

“IT’S DAD!”

"Ohhh, what's this? Some romance music?"

“Well, just make me more handsome - if that’s even possible.”

“Oh, tough crowd.”

"I demand you let me down this instant!"

"This is outrageous!"

"THERE'S LEAVES EVERYWHERE."

"Here come the grannies!"

"Boring things are still important."

"You sound like your dad."

"I don't have to. I'm special.

“Did you just eat a tick from your own hair?” 

“You’re a grub! You don’t brush your teeth, you don’t eat vegetables, and you don’t take showers. Grub.” 

“Hey toots! When are we gettin’ married?” 

 “You look like you’ve never cleaned your teeth, brushed your hair, or had a shower in your life.” 

 “Maybe self-improvement just isn’t for you.” 

 “Well, I must say, you really have cleaned yourself up. And I love your little bow tie.” 

“My life is a lie.” 

“’Someone’?! You’re a someone! I’m a... no one.” 

“You know what’s great about being no one? You’re everyone.” 

“I’ve been thinking. How can you be sure you’re not a puppet?” 

"I'M MAKING A SALAD!"

"You're both crazy."

"OOOH. Alright. That's it! We're not going to the park. We're just staying here then!"

"This is great. They're learning a lesson and we get the house cleaned."

"Don't just get the fun stuff. I mean the bag of stuff."

"You're really doing this?" "I think I have to."

"Feet ok. Arms ok. I think we're good!"

"Soo... Has the romance started yet?"

“I don’t feel like playing!”

“Hello, new husband!”

“Wow! Are you serious?”

"I do not have the energy for games today."

"She saw you dancing on her barbeque table."

“Is the whole world made of atoms?”

“How do you remove makeup?”

“Why would anyone like being in a bad mood?”

“DANCE MODE!”

"I peed on my foot."

"Welcome to middle age, kid."

“Don’t tell your mum.”

"This isn't legal anymore!"

"What. Was. That?"

“This is all my stuff from when I used to be cool!”

“Hello doctor lady, do you sell crutches?”

“If grownups grow from babies, and only grownups have babies, who had the first baby?”

"The thing is, I do this to myself."

"I have a wife!"

"Big brothers always beat little brothers."

"He stole our money!" "Well that's putting kind of a slant on it.."

"Didn't you fall in the pool at the wedding?"

“Me? I’m not brave enough.”

“I’m not special anymore!”

"You figured out how to avoid capture by the police."

“If you hit a flamingo, you’ve gone too far.”

“ Remember I'll always be here for you, even if you can't see me... because I love you.”

“I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!”

"Ladies, ladies. There's plenty to go around."

“Oh leave them alone! They’re just trying to run a small business!”

“How does the baby get in the lady’s belly?”

“You’ve still got it, babe.”

“That’s enough sinister plotting!”

"Me want books for big boys."

“We can edit that bit out right?”

“Oh, a massage! Why, thank you. A little lower. That’s the spot.” 

“Is your frizzy hair very heavy?” 

“I demand you let me down this instant!” 

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - twenty-two | he got an audition or something

“Hey, Jongho,” Maddox said as Jongho walked into the studio.

You kept your head down, looking at what you were doing, not wanting to make eye contact with Yunho as he walked in.

“No Yunho today?”

You looked up. Helping Jongho into the room was a new person. A woman, and taller than he was.

“No, he got an audition or something so it’s just me and my manager.”

“Hello everyone,” she said.

“T/n this is my manager since I signed with Wonderland Entertainment when I was eighteen: Yu June.”

You stood and bowed, shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Yu.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. Jongho has told me good things about your involvement in the album.”

“Oh-- really?” You looked between her and Jongho.

“I’d been updating her on what was happening in the studio.” He smiled.

June nodded. “I was glad to hear of the ideas you have for the album. I’m glad Hongjoong hired a producer who can take care of our boy.”

“Oh-- I’m not a producer.”

“Yet.” Hongjoong said as he set up the computer for recording.

You couldn’t help but let your eyebrows tick up in surprise. Jongho turned to you with something between surprise and a matter-of-fact ‘I told you so’ expression. Maddox was smiling wildly at you.

“Oh-- uh--” You couldn’t help it. This was the first you heard of this.

“We can talk about it at a later date, t/n.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah.” You sat down.

You felt like you could break out into laughter, tears, and wild screaming at any moment. You tightened your fingers into fists as you looked down at the floor, trying to stay calm. You couldn’t believe it, he really wanted you to become a producer? But why? And how? And where? And who? And what? What? What? 

‘For real?’ You wanted to ask, but you had to record now. 

You wished he hadn’t dropped it on you like that. You didn’t know him very well, but it seemed sort of out of character for him? Though… it did make sense in a way: he was letting you be much more involved in Jongho’s album than a bassist who also transcribed music probably had any right to be. You had thought it was maybe a little odd, but you were having so much fun learning about the production process that you didn’t think about it. He did have you learn all those terms, and he did say ‘this is your first lesson’ about making the music go with the choreo better… but you didn’t think he was really serious.

Turns out, he was doing way more thinking about it than you had.

So you were really going to become a producer, huh? Wow. That was so fucking cool. A really real producer. You could imagine it all; working with singers and musicians late into the night as you all worked hard to produce an incredible album. Helping people find their sound, helping them find the direction they want to take their music and helping them get there. The excitement of an album dropping. Seeing the artists on music shows.

You remembered that you were meant to be working on Jongho’s album and looked up.

Maddox was smiling wildly at you and you waved him away. 

Jongho walked into the booth to begin recording and June helped him with his crutches.

It was a little weird seeing her there instead of Yunho. Were you less tense without Yunho around? Perhaps not. You certainly weren’t happy that he had been appearing at your job for the past couple weeks, but it hadn’t been disruptive to your work. He was very well-behaved, up until the moment he approached you in the hall. Though, you were sure that his reaction to your telling him you still hated him probably meant he would have gone back to being well-behaved if June hadn’t come back.

You were glad the situation seemed to have resolved itself. At least you didn’t have to see him anymore.

Instead you could worry about other things, like Hongjoong asking you to be a producer? Why hadn’t he brought it up before? And did he make you learn all those terms because they were really looking for a producer but didn’t want to show their hand so soon? Maybe this announcement was another test. You stared at the back of Hongjoong’s head, trying to figure out what was happening inside it.

“Do you like Korean barbecue?” Maddox asked.

“Huh?”

“We were thinking of maybe celebrating the completion of the album with barbecue. You in?”

“Oh, uh, when are we going?”

“We’re not sure yet.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’d be up to go.”

Maddox nodded.

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