#ink gone dry | writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jarofstyles · 5 months

Text

Azure- Indigo 5

Helllooo my loves! Here is part 5 to indigo. It's really cute I can't lie, I'm proud of this story :')

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access to the next 3 parts of Indigo.

Series Masterlist

WC- 5.4k

-------------

Y/N had forgotten how Harry appeared to other people.

She had been almost floating on air the rest of the weekend, a smile permanently on her face as she walked about her apartment, tending to chores and making sure to take time to look after her tattoo. She had been diligent about her research beforehand, yes, but it was even more imperative now that she kept the piece in pristine condition.

They’d been texting frequently. Once she had gotten home, he had responded back and it simply hadn’t stopped. There were pauses, warnings from him that he had a client coming in or he was going on a run, but most of the weekend had been spent texting him, giggling at her phone, getting to know him a bit more. His texting style was a bit similar to how he spoke, a bit of dry humor sprinkled in. It seemed he was a little more bold through the phone as well, messaging her with smooth flirtation and obvious interest in her stories. He asked involved questions, checked in on her multiple times, but he wasn’t overly bearing. Y/N felt like she was being hand fed bits and pieces of the man that had always puzzled her.

“So who’s the guy that had you pretending you’re not smiling at your phone?” Over brunch, Y/N’s friend Julia had caught on to her sneaking peeks at her phone, smiling to herself and trying to pace responses. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to notice this. Y/N couldn’t be subtle if it could save her life. Once you got to know her, it was even more obvious that her feelings would be displayed out for anyone to see. A real heart on her sleeve type of girl.

Y/N hadn’t wanted to bring him up initially, but the excitement to finally dish about a guy she was actually excited about seeing- even if it was only one planned date- had her mouth almost ready to burst. She didn’t want to tell anyone in their initial friend group because… because what if it didn’t work and then everyone made it super awkward? Y/N did not do good with that sort of pressure and honestly, she would most definitely cry if someone teased her for not being able to keep up with Harry.

Julia, however? Sweet Julia was a former coworker, mostly removed from that group of friends and it was easier to dish when she hadn’t met him.

“Well…” Y/N tucked her hair back over her shoulder, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s a guy I’ve known for a bit. He’s actually the one who did my tattoo.” Lifting her arm she motioned to the ink that her friend had previously fawned over. She had a few tattoos herself and had been impressed at how good it had turned out despite some of the detail being scabbed over. Y/N had taken a bit of the moisturizer Harry had given her out after their drinks and shown her, the whole thing.

“Ohmygod- a tattoo artist?” Her friend’s eyes widened. “The one who did that one? You sly thing… did you get down and dirty in the studio? Oh my god, you gave it so good he had to see more of you? Y/N, you’ve been holding out on me!”

Y/N gaped, floundering for a moment before housing her friends with wide eyes. Her voice hadn’t exactly been quiet and she could feel the lava burning underneath her skin. She loved Julia, but she didn’t have a sense of volume sometimes. “Jules!” She hissed, shaking her head. “No! I didn’t- I didn’t do anything in the studio. No, he was completely and utterly professional and sweet.” There was a weird need to defend Harry’s honor.

In reality, there was no true idea in her mind if Harry did that sort of stuff before. With how attractive he was, she was sure people attempted it but she doubted he would actually do so. Not when he had worked so hard on his shop’s reputation. He’d told her all about that when they’d gone out afterwards.

“Ok, then what the hell happened? What is his name? Let me see him, immediately.” Her expectant hand shot out, looking at her with a raised brow as Y/N chuckled at her friends' antics- and her audacity. She was lucky Y/N loved her.

“His name is Harry.” Her voice was soft as she typed his username into the instagram search bar. “He’s a tattoo artist. I met him through our friend group. He’s a friend of Sarah’s. He did my tattoo at his own shop. He owns it himself, and he’s got a few people who work there too.” Pride bled from her voice as she pulled his profile up and handed it over. There weren't too many of him. He had a few tagged, a few photos on his own, but it was mostly his tattoo work and random things here and there. “He’s got a few awards and done a few famous people’s work. It’s so cool. He drew my tattoo up right next to me in his office, his process is so interesting.”

The girl was chirping about him as if she was already smitten, a dreamy little smile on her lips slipping a bit as she took in Julia’s expression. “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing- not a bad look, I promise.” Julia hurried to correct her face but she turned the phone back to Y/N. “This is him? The one in the black?”

It was a photo of him she had seen the other night while she did her obligatory snooping in his tagged. A tight black tee shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the chest covered his torso and tight fitting black jeans covered his bottom down to his brown boots. His arms bulged slightly as they were crossed over his body, a pint in hand as he looked at the camera. The other hand held out a middle finger over his arm, a cold scowl on his face. His piercings glimmered in the photo, an obvious flash used. It was part of Sarah’s summer photo dump, one he had commented a simple eye roll emoji for despite liking it. Y/N’s snooping was thorough.

“Yeah… Isn’t he cute?” Y/N asked nervously. It wasn’t that she needed her friend’s acceptance. She liked Harry either way. It would just be nice to not feel a bit off guard when she had expected a squeal back from seeing him. Harry was hot, that was no question. Even if you simply spoke to him without seeing his physical appearance, it was more than obvious he was just an attractive man in general.

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use. He’s good looking but… He’s a little scary for you, isn’t he?”

While she knew that the question was most likely an innocent one, it raised her hackles a little bit. Sure, maybe he looked a little scary. Maybe he was intimidating to most. But that didn’t have much to do with anything. “No, I don’t think so. He’s incredibly sweet and kind. He didn’t even charge me for my tattoo and tried to venmo me back his tip but he’s… He’s a little shy.” It had been apparent to her when he had told her why he had been so silent around her. “He tells awful jokes and he’s taking me to a drive-in movie this weekend because he remembered that I liked the one they’re showing. He’s really thoughtful. I know he’s got tattoos and piercings but that doesn’t mean-”

“Woah, slow your roll, Cinnamon Bun.” Julia placed her hand over Y/N’s. “I didn’t mean anything mean by it. Not at all. I’m sure that if you’re with him, he’s a nice guy.” Her face showed guilt for working Y/N up, scooting her chair closer to her. “I just mean he seems a bit intimidating. You know that I’m used to seeing you fawn over more sporty guys, the cleaner cut ones. It was just that he’s different from the norm for you, babe.”

Y/N’s wind sank and her sails dropped as she realized what her friend had meant. Of course it hadn’t been meant in malice, but she still worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I just think.. I think he’s had a lot of people assume a lot of things about him in the past and it makes me weirdly protective of him. I know I’m kind of his opposite in a lot of ways and it makes me a little insecure because I know people will definitely call it out. Your meaning isn’t bad but eventually people are going to see I don’t seem to be the normal type for him.”

That was the truth. Y/N had seen peeks of girls he had flirted with or gone off to hook up with and they didn’t exactly look like her. Not at all.

“Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” Julia sighed. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. If anyone has shit to say, fuck ‘em. I was just surprised. You’ve never been the bad boy aesthetic type but hey, if he’s nice to you that’s all that matters. As long as he knows you’ve got a miniature blonde friend who’s ready to attack ankles at any moment for hurting you and knows how to hide bodies… we’re all good.”

Y/N had let it go. Julia meant well, but this was exactly why she wanted to wait a bit to let their friend group know they were… something? Seeing each other? They hadn't even gone on a date yet so it seemed to be a stretch to say dating, but whatever it was. Not until it felt steady. They’d all worry over her and warn Harry off when in reality, all he had done in the past was be anxious and let Y/N read him wrong.

She wanted to protect him from the ribbing and the questions and let them get to know one another in a more intimate way privately. It would be something she would have to bring up to him later…. But how?

—-------------

H: Hi, gorgeous. What are you up to?

Y/N: Hi hi :) Just got done making cinnamon bread.

H: And are you bringing me a piece of that tonight?

H: Please say yes or I’ll probably cry.

Y/N: Of course, crazy. What do you take me for?

H: A goddess, if you continue bringing me baked goods.

H: But please remember that there is a snack counter there and I will be happy to buy you whatever you want from there or pick up something beforehand.

Y/N: I really can pay for some of it myself. I feel a little bad making you pay for everything, you’ve already got the tickets.

H: I’ve got the tickets and more. If I’m taking you out, I’m paying, sweetheart. Nonnegotiable. Your payment can be some of that bread, if it makes you feel better.

H: I’m just happy you said yes and are giving me a chance after I’ve made an ass of myself.

Y/N: H :( no

Y/N: You didn’t mean to make me feel bad. I internalized it and maybe you need to work on communication a bit but honestly, It’s all water under the bridge!!! I’m really really excited to go out with you.

Harry ran his hand over his face. His wrist ached from the 6 hour session the day prior but he was more than a mess of nerves now that the time for their date was almost here. He vacuumed out his car, cleaned it, sprayed with some sort of spray, and replaced the little vent air freshener. The whole thing. His range rover wasn’t ideal for this sort of thing so he had chosen his vintage convertible. The bench seat could lay back and provide more lounging space- and that’s exactly what he had wanted.

This had been his first dream purchase once he started making more money at his shop. As soon as he finished his car payments on the Range Rover, he had set his sights on a vintage car to cruise around in by himself during the warm nights, a good sound system having been modified in it so he could lose himself in thought while driving down the coastline. This car was his baby. Soft yellow exterior with a pinstripe detail, the smooth car appealed to him immediately. He’s spent months scouring sites and driving to look at different listings but this one had his heart immediately. There hadn’t been too much to change on it, but he had made his personalization with black and white fuzzy dice hanging off the rearview mirror, said sound system, and refreshed seats. The car had been his reward for the hard work and his endless backaches from being hunched over tattooing.

It had been a no brainer to choose this one but he did worry about if Y/N would think he was being overly flashy. Harry had never been one to show his money off to the masses, instead choosing to invest a lot and keep everything quiet. He’d seen some friends, seen his own clients even complain about how people used them for money and with the concept being newer to him, he wanted to be responsible. He’d read too many financial horror stories on reddit to risk it. His mates guessed he made a decent amount considering how much his minimum was and how picky he was with clients, and sure he picked up the tab a lot without saying who did it, but he tried to keep himself a bit guarded with that. He hoped that if this continued with Y/N- which god, he was praying it would- she wouldn’t be upset with him keeping that a bit of a secret.

To be honest, he was overthinking every single thing. Despite appearing cool, calm and collected in his texts, he had felt like his thoughts were running out of his head at max speed. Realistically, he knew Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to. She’d have been more than justified if she had, but somehow Harry must have done something right to get the karma to have not only her forgiveness, but her affection. Even the slightest bit.

Triple checking his outfit, he had felt silly brushing his overgrown hair out of his face but still made sure that there hadn’t been some miracle stain that showed up on his tee shirt or new rip in his pants. There wasn’t, as suspected, and he finally made himself leave the house. The car had the blankets folded in the trunk, along with the two oversized pillows he had purposely chosen despite being a bit chunky. They were straight off his bed, the best ones he had ever found. The plush purple blanket was oversized, a steal from a liquidation store he went to just to feel like he could ‘treasure hunt’ was big enough to cover the seats, and he had a few different ones for Y/N to choose from in the back.

Was she a faux fur blanket girl? Linen? Crochet? Plush? Velveteen? Another obscure but endearing thing he wanted to carve out of her.

The drive to her place consisted of Lana Del Rey and the top up of the car. It was obvious it was a convertible but he was trying to keep the warm breeze as a shared experience for them both tonight. The real nerves had hit outside of her stairs, his phone dipped back in his pocket once she had told him she was on her way down. His palms were sweating, a constant reminder of himself to not fuck this up playing on a neverending loop in his head.

The world went quiet for a moment, though, once Y/N opened the door and shot him a smile so sweet that it almost hurt his own teeth.

Every time he saw Y/N he had been in awe of her beauty, but it hit a little different now. She had dressed up for the purpose of going out with him. Her lavender colored dress with slightly puffy sleeves, casual as ever with its soft looking fabric, but seeing something like that on her was bringing it to a new level. It swished on her thighs, brushing an inch or so above her knees. Sandals were on her feet and a cream colored oversized bag that resembled one he brought to the beach was hung over her shoulder, snapping against the pavement as she descended the stairs and made her way over to him.

“Hi!” She chirped, eyes sparkling slightly in the afternoon sun. Sunset would happen in just 30 or so minutes and he had to wonder how his brain would handle seeing her in a golden glow in his car. On a date with him. “You look really handsome, H.”

It was so opposite what people would assume of a man with his general outward demeanor and rough around the edges appearance. His cheeks heating and having to swallow a lump in his throat to unknot so he could reply to a simple compliment, you’d never expect it. Harry liked that maybe only Y/N would be able to uncover a part of him he kept hidden to protect himself from hurt. The iron armor he kept guarding his heart seemed to melt to molten metal when she reached up to take a hug from him. She smelled so fresh, like laundry in the best way. The warm type right out of the dryer, unsullied from any possible contaminants. She smelled brand new, a start over for him.

“You always seem to outdo yourself in how gorgeous y’look when I see you.” His guts had returned when he was hugging her, unable to see her reaction. Somehow, Harry could remain stone faced when drunk people came in demanding ink, when he’d gotten in fights at bars during that rougher period, but he couldn't control himself around a soft little doe of a girl like Y/N.

“Thank you.” She grinned, pulling back with her eyes finding his until her attention was stolen by the car behind him. “Oh my god… Is this a new car?”

Pride bloomed in his chest as she fawned over his car, one of his prized possessions that she was slightly bouncing on her toes as her hand ran over the hood. This was the reaction he had been hoping for. “Well, technically it’s an old one.” The joke was cracked with a smirk, making Y/N laugh and his chest feel full.

“No shit, funny man.” Her hand pushed his bicep. “I mean, when did you get it? I’ve never seen you drive this, just your Range Rover.”

“It’s sort of a special occasion car. Drives down the coast mostly, sometimes car meets if Niall finds one and tells me to bring it. I got it a while ago but the other car is more practical so it stays in the garage while I put the milage on the other one.” He placed a hand on the handle to open up her door, letting her take a look inside. “It’s really special to me. I try t’be careful with her.”

“Her?” Y/N rose a brow as she sat herself in the seat, wiggling around as she got comfortable. “Should I be jealous?”

Her own flirty jokes made Harry relax a tiny bit more. He wasn’t the only one feeling this, and it made him feel a whole lot better to hear it from her. “No, no. She’s got nothing on you, darling.” With a wink, he closed her door and jogged around to his side and patting himself on the back for not choking at the response he just gave.

—---

Y/N’s own body was buzzing with nerves. Sitting in this fantastic car that she knew her grandfather would absolutely lose his head over, Hozier’s ‘Abstract’ played through the radio and her hair was fluttering around as Harry drove through the streets towards the destination. The sun was warming her cheek, hand dipping up and down as she let the wind pass through her fingers. There was some chatter but mostly a silence that Y/N found to be quite comfortable. Harry wasn’t an incredibly talkative person in general but he seemed to be a lot more open when it was just the two of them. She was enjoying this, the overall energy pretty good- a bit nervous and giggly but what first date didn’t start off like that?

“How did you even find out about this?” Y/N turned to look at him as they waited in line to park his car and let them scan the code he had open on his phone. “Like, I didn’t even know there was a drive-in so close to us. I still feel like a newbie here sometimes but.. It was really thoughtful. I never thought I’d get to see this one on a big screen since it had come out before I could have watched it.”

“I remembered you liked that movie we were seeing when I was scrolling down instagram. It was weird, I knew there was one but I never interacted with anything about it so… The algorithm must have helped me out.” He laughed, running his thumb over his lower lip to hide his smile a little bit. “I know people normally would say a movie on a first date would be a little eh, but we know each other a little and it’s your favorite. It’s outside, too. Anything is ten times better under the stars.”

Y/N loved that. That was true, but for someone who had been so nervous to speak to her before he was sure as hell doing a good job finding all the soft pleasure spots in her brain and stroking them. Clicking off things on her mental list she didn’t know she had. “I’m glad it did. I’m excited, especially with a car like this, it’s incredible. You did a perfect job picking this out.” Truly, he had plucked a dream scenario from her romantic underbelly and brought it up to the surface.

“Good.” He smiled, pulling up to the person scanning their tickets. It was pay per car, so it hadn’t been too spendy, but Harry was more than going to make up for it. His relief was clearly lifted off his shoulders as she expressed her approval of his choice. He’d probably fall on down the sewer if she hated it.

Their spot was a place in the middle and towards the back. There were only about 50 spots, and they had definitely been a bit fucked with traffic but at least they werent in a corner. Cutting the car off, he took a breath before turning to her. “We’re gonna pull the top down and uh, the bench seat flattens out. So it can be easier to stretch out.” He flexed his hand around the gearshift, watching as her face brightened. “I’ve got loads of blankets in the trunk and two pillows too. M’not trying to be suggestive but it’s easier to get comfortable.” Harry wanted to make this the most memorable date- in a good way. The knowledge of the fact he knew for a fact other guys in the group fancied her and could talk to her without seeming like an ass used to make his stomach hurt, but it was such a relief to have her with him now. She was way too sweet and understanding but he adored the fact that she had particularly chosen him to go out with. Y/N wasn’t a prize, she wasn’t an object, but he felt like he was a winner for getting to spend time with her.

“Here-” He took his wallet out and slipped one of his cards out. “Go and get whatever you want for the movie and we can get proper food after.” The cool plastic was paced into her palm, his fingers closing her own around it so she didn’t drop it. “Whatever y’want and I mean it. They’ve got those chocolate bars y’like, I saw online. Buy the whole candy case if you want. I’ll get this fixed up and meet you over there to help carry it.”

Y/N wasn’t going to argue, her jello like knees shaking as she walked over to the retro shack. It was unreal. Harry had seemed to put a lot of thought into every step. His mention of knowing her favorite chocolate was there and that he’d remembered it even just having heard it in a very tipsy conversation she’d had with Charlotte with Harry ‘glaring’ at her across the table. Apparently, he had just been focusing on her answer and not wishing she would drop dead. Who’d have thought?

Rocking on her feet, Y/N looked over the menu and made her mind up pretty quickly- an absolute miracle for her- as soon as she saw the selection of drinks. Usually she wasn’t a carbonated bev type of person, but when she saw you could add little flavors into them, she was more than happy to order a sprite with strawberry flavoring. She had only been a few places where they’d done so before, so she was taking it. She went with a Root Beer for Harry and another bottle of water to split, a large popcorn and a side of the cheese sauce that she lovingly called plastic cheese like her mother always had. As much as she was tempted, she chose 3 things of candy. Sour, sweet and chocolate. The array.

Swiping his card felt a little wrong but secretly, she was happy that he had insisted. There had been many a date where the man hadn’t even offered, or who thought buying a lackluster meal meant he should have access to her body. While she didn’t need him to pay, the gesture was what she liked. Harry had been nothing but respectful once he had actually opened his mouth to talk to her.

Placing the lids on the drinks, she had placed them on the tray but frowned slightly at the idea of walking across the field balancing them and not dropping them. Thankfully she felt a large hand on her own as the tray had been swiftly taking into his grip. The tray that had seemed ginormous in her own hands looked small in his.

“Told you I’d come to help. You don't need to be carrying it.”

Again, Y/N didn’t feel like arguing as she let him lead her back to the car, his lack of clumsiness making her look twice as bad. She’d stumbled three times, the uneven terrain making it a little difficult with the dents the cars had carved into spots in the lot. Thank the sky above she had let him take it. Her mind had been on that but was taken out of thought when she saw the set up. It was so cute, Y/N almost let out a coo as she watched him place the tray on the close trunk. It had been set up like a bed, three blankets overlapping each other on top.

“Didn’t know the kind of blanket you liked so I brought a few.”

If he got any more adorable, Y/N would lose it.

“You did? That’s so sweet, H.” She whispered, slipping her shoes off as he opened the door to let her get in easier. There was no way she was about to mess up the thing he had put so much thought into. Her eyes went to the plushy one, lifting that one as Harry removed his boots. “I claim this one.”

Harry added the blanket preference to his Y/N list mentally.

“Perfect.” He nodded. “Did you want to share or do separate ones?”

The days were perfectly warm, but since the sun had been setting the cool night had been settling over the place. It got nippy, and Y/N was selfish and curious. “Sharing is fine.” She peeped, spreading it across her lap and holding it open for him. This would bring them closer. His thigh was near hers, sitting sprawled out as he carefully balanced the tray to sit in front of them.

This was just… good. Harry was obviously a little nervous still, but Y/N was laughing at his jokes, she had been interested in what he had to say. It wasn’t the fake half assed listening most people did. She asked detailed follow up questions and laughed at the right times, especially when their hands met when trying to grab some popcorn as the trailers before the move began.

They were shifting closer to one another, slowly allowing it to happen until Harry suggested laying back. The popcorn setted between them, He put a second blanket on them when he noticed her shiver slightly. Y/N was trying to figure out how to ask to cuddle with him without asking outright, but it was hard. All he was doing was being respectful but she wanted to be closer to him, wanted his arm around her and the cold to disappear. It felt like everytime they brushed that she got pleasantly flushed.

“Y’cold still?” Harry whispered, another shiver getting his attention. He didn’t need to know it was from his hand brushing the popcorn from her thigh over the blanket.

“Yeah, I run cold” She said softly. “Can we get closer? Body heat is a bit better.”

Harry loved it. Her innocent expression but obviously wanting to get closer, to be held by him specifically. “I’m never going to say no to having’ you close to me, sweetheart.”

His arm was lifted and she ducked underneath, his body turning slightly on his side so she could get close and lean into him, the blankets pulled to their chins and his hand falling to her arm where he began to run his fingers over.

Y/N wanted to squeal, but she settled for a happy little wriggle disguised as getting comfortable. He was indeed much warmer than blankets, but his fingers running over her and her cheek pressed against his shoulder with his body heat leaking through his shirt made her warm right in her stomach. His touch felt so good, comforting and exciting all at the same time. So far, this had been the best date she had ever been on and it really had just begun.

—------

Y/N was so beautiful.

Harry had been paying far too much attention to the girl curled up against him like a little kitten. Purring as he stroked her bare skin once his fingers had gone under the blanket for her. The screen illuminated her face as she watched her movie, his lips watching her lips as she silently recited lines and giggled at the right moments. He was learning a lot just watching her reactions. The yearning on her face during the softer romantic scenes, what things got little giggles, what made her cringe. How long her eyelashes were and how her nose curved, the tiny marks on her face he had never seen.

This was the type of date he had always wanted to have. To go out with a girl he genuinely liked, who saw more of him than met the eye, who wanted to get to know him. Someone who could make him loosen up a bit. He’d not had any goals for this besides having her enjoy herself and hopefully grow to like him more. Enough to give him a shot of dating her. It made him realize how his past in bed hadn’t made him feel a fraction of the excitement or even pleasure that this did. Simply sitting with a girl he had a massive crush on holding onto his shirt, watching her beauty in real time. There was no feeling of rush with her. As much as he was truly attracted to her, he was happy with this. Maybe a kiss or two would throw him over the moon. Just being in this scenario felt like a dream come true.

He was sure the movie was great, but the vision in front of him was far, far more interesting to him.

264 notes · View notes

imagines--galore · 5 days

Text

||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.

————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie @army-moa75 @juwhls @aqlodun @lovelybaka

#zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #the thread of fate #zuko x oc #prince zuko x oc #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko #netflix avatar #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #avatar aang

43 notes · View notes

azsazz · 11 months

Text

To My Heart

Knox x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Oh my gosh Knox is so adorable he has my heart and the head canon that he writes letters to his mate makes my heart melt

Warnings: None

Word Count: 759

Notes: You guys he’s just so cute 😭

_________________________________________

Knox sighs, head propped on curled fists as he watches the night sky. He’s leaned across the deep stone of his balcony, and as much as seeing the smattering of stars and the bright moon hanging high above him calms the male, he’s buzzing with nerves.

He’s tired, beyond so but he can’t sleep, and won’t until she writes him back.

His mate. The word still makes his heart rush in his chest, and he curls his fingers around the pen he’d been playing with to expel his nervous energy. His book sits open and abandoned on the lounger behind him, sketchbook tossed to the side in frustration because he couldn’t get the curve of her lips just right. Loose papers ruffle in the wind from where they’re pinned under the weight of his supplies, a gentle flutter that reflects the pounding of his heart.

Gods, he must be crazy, he thinks, pushing himself away from the overhang. Knox paces the short distance, stretching his wings as if that might stave off some of the nervous energy zipping through his body. She could be asleep, and for a fleeting moment he thinks he might just run and jump off the balcony to find out for himself. He doesn’t want to scare her away when she hardly knows the truth.

But he’d felt her amusement ringing down the bond as he read his letter. Or he assumed she was reading his letter. She could be doing several things instead; baking those treats she seems to like or maybe she’s also reading, lost in the adventures of her novel, not noticing the letter delivered on a bed of darkness.

His hands have a tremor to them, and he stuffs them into his pockets instead, rolling his eyes when his twin’s voice rings through his mind.

What are you doing? Go to sleep.

I can’t, he sends back, trying not to sound defeated. He doesn’t have an excuse, can’t think of one because he truly is bone tired after the day he’s had, training with his father and uncles this morning until noon before he’d been dragged out with Baz for drinks by the Sidra. That, had turned into his older brother stark naked in the cold waters, flirting with a wraith whose red, hot cheeks could’ve boiled the river dry.

Well, all that thinking is bothering me, she responds, and Knox knows his sister is scowling. It makes his lips twitch into a smile, her banter helping to distract him. And some of us need our beauty sleep.

He snorts. I didn’t know my twin was replaced with Zuz. Tell me sister, no midnight rendezvous? He knows she’s been sneaking out just as much as he has lately, and even though his shadows are shared with his sister and he can talk into her mind, even he doesn’t know where she slinks off to in the late hours of the night.

Not tonight, Malos yawns lazily and he cringes because he hates when she does that in his mind. Now fuck off and go to bed.

Love you too, Mal, Knox says, rolling his eyes once more as he feels the strong, steel shield of her mind slides back into place.

And then Knox is pacing again. Maybe he should go for a fly, the open air always makes him feel better. But if she does write him back then he might miss it and that’s the last thing he wants.

His attention is drawn to a whisper of darkness drifting across the night sky like its own cloud of black. It shrouds the moon as it passes and his heart jumps once, twice. Knox all but snatches the neatly folded paper from the grasp of night. He takes a deep breath and can smell her on it. It makes him shiver, like she’s right there with him, the scent of stardust and sugar invading his senses.

The flourish of her writing makes his heart ache. How delicate the curves of her letters are, how light, so the ink doesn’t seep through the paper, the thought she’d gone through to make it look so perfect for him. He traces the letters of his name idly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he stares, heart calm in his chest as he fingers over the shape of the heart, hastily drawn and still wet, as if she drew it and sent it off before she could change her mind.

Knox takes a deep breath and opens the letter.

#azsazz #azsazz knox #knox x reader #azsazz next gen #acotar next gen

185 notes · View notes

petermorwood · 4 months

Text

youtube

This popped up on my YouTube the other day and not to brag, but...

Oh, why the hell not? It's a small brag, but satisfying. :->

I posted about refilling the Pilot Vpen (IRL-UK) / Varsity (US) - and adding how-to links - about 4 years and then again a year ago.

Here are the how-to links; I'm glad to see they're still active.

This one, like the video, calls for pliers and suggests removing the nib:

This one doesn't use pliers or separate the nib from the feed.

*****

Bragging aside, I'm pleased to see Brian Goulet of Goulet Pens giving this hack a higher profile (and Kudos for it, too - as a retailer it's more in his interest to sell them than refill them!)

His reason is very sound: those cheap little pens (usually about 3-to-4 local currency units whether €, $ or £) are ideal for FP-curious newbies or as no-loss-worries when travelling or no-damage-worries loaners.

They also have much better nibs than the price would suggest. Indeed that seems common to all the inexpensive Pilot pens I've tried, which includes every nib size of MR / Metropolitan.

In addition, IMO the notion of "disposable" fountain pens goes completely against the principal FP virtue, where once you've bought the pen, all you USE is the ink.

So in the US at least * buy that ink from Goulet. They've got one or two to choose from and a selection of samples in vials or sets...

( * In Ireland, with Pen Corner in Dublin now gone, I get mine from CultPens or Penstore.)

*****

I should mention, for completeness, that some "starter" fountain pens have prices not much more than these disposables and, refilled by "proper" ink cartridges / bottle-refill converters, don't involve anything like this trouble.

Just saying...

*****

It just so happens that one of my two Vpens was about due for a refill, so here are some pics of the process.

I scrubbed the markings off the barrels a long time ago so I could see what was inside, since refills mean the ink in the pen often has nothing to do with its colour-indicator cap.

First, disassembled and washed in changes of warm water until the water stays clear.

Here's the nib and feed: they've always come out of both Vpens as a single unit, with no need for pliers. Since the nibs show no desire to come off I've no desire to force the issue and maybe break something; those little ink-guide fins are delicate.

The filler is a small syringe begged from our local vet. I also use it to refill cartridges with custom ink colours (yup, I sometimes roll my own...)

Its "needle" is plastic tubing (an empty Pilot gel-pen cartridge, appropriately enough) which fits the syringe perfectly, and a pointy end made by stretching the tube over a candle-flame then snipping to length. If it gets too stained - this is nearly there - just chuck it in the recycle bin and make a new one.

The ink could have been any of the 30-odd I have at the minute, or something mixed specially, but I chose this one - a nice dark green - for the same reason @dduane had me buy it.

It's a very cute bottle... :->

*****

And here's the "disposable" pen refilled, reassembled and re-writing.

It really does have a better nib than you'd expect from a supposedly single-use pen...

*****

It sometimes takes a while for the ink to work its way by capillary action down from barrel to nib, especially if everything has been left to dry after washing. Put the cap on the pen and be patient.

Or speed things up by taking the cap off and running a thin stream of hot water over the barrel for 30 seconds or so. This increases internal pressure, forcing the ink along the section fins.

NB, this step is only for a refilled Vpen / Varsity. Don't try it with anything else, and in case it's not obvious, do this at a washbasin or sink, because You Never Know.

Now use a bit of kitchen paper or loo roll to blot the water which has got on the nib. This has a mild "suction" effect, and when you see ink on the paper (you might need to wet the nib again) your refilled pen is ready for use.

This wet-and-blot nib step can be used to encourage any stubborn fountain pen to get back in action, but the hot water trick, once again, is Vpen only.

Anyway, done.

#Youtube #fountain pens #disposable fountain pen #refilling disposable fountain pens #Pilot Vpen #Pilot Varsity

71 notes · View notes

indouloureux · 2 years

Note

i love love love the blurb u did where joseph falls asleep to reader reading to him, could you write the reverse? where reader falls asleep to joseph reading to them? xx

aaa bhjjhb thank you for reading, and thank you for requesting! <3

his breathing is heavy against your ear. steady, tranquil, like the sound of a harp as it moves beneath the gentle sway of curious fingertips. your head lifts every time he breaths, finding yourself sinking deeper onto the soft cotton of his sweater.

then there's his voice; deep, but mesmerizing like a siren as he reads the inked words of the book he's balancing in one hand while the other runs through your hair. the way he says those words are eloquent, the fiction sprouted out as reality from its grandiloquence.

however, elves and giant rings and wizards are definitely not realistic. but alas, it's enough to render you relaxed.

he kisses your forehead to silently ask if you could flip the page, seeing as his other hand was too preoccupied in losing itself in your locks and from rubbing your back.

joseph's hands, in all its dexterity, manages to comb through the knots of your hair without causing you so much as a short pang on the top of your head. your dampened hair has gone dry from his gentle strokes, and your eyes had gone heavier from each chapter he passes by.

though, unfortunately for you, you don't realize you actually had slept.

because when you whine and tilt your head to snuggle deeper into his chest, his chuckle reverberates which makes you look up at him.

"well, good morning, sleeping beauty," joseph smiles, a dimple creasing on his left cheek, his eyes wide and bright, hair unkempt as they curl across his forehead. "how was your nap?"

you snort. "i didn't even realize i had a nap."

joseph kisses the top of your head again, and you leisurely flip the page. "well, you were droolin' all over me so."

abruptly, you lift your head from his chest to look down at him, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. "i did not!"

there was no dark spot on his chest. you hit his shoulder with the back of your hand before you plop down on top of him again. literally, your whole body weight on top of him, his wrist on your back as he balances the book with one hand, though this gives him the opportunity to flip the page himself.

"i jus' wanna sleep," you say, speech muffled from the smushed cheek, your arms dangling on his sides. "'m so tired, joey,"

he kisses your forehead before flipping the page, running his hand down the dip of your spine right after. he digs his nose on the crown of your head. "go to sleep then, baby."

#joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn

491 notes · View notes

merakiui · 1 year

Note

Imagine if Azul got turned into a baby and MC won't stop cooing at him even if he doesn't have the mind of a baby

Omg that would be quite the nightmarish situation for Azul.

It's what happens when Azul's lab partner is Floyd, who never bothers to read the lab instructions and just empties whatever materials he wants into the cauldron in hopes of getting an interesting reaction, much to Azul's annoyance. And interesting is certainly the reaction he achieves as, once the smoke has cleared and Professor Crewel has readied himself to put the bad puppies in their places, he's momentarily stopped when he notices Floyd standing beside a pile of clothes. Emerging from the oversized lab coat and uniform, tentacles writhing in a panic, is baby Azul.

If the explosion didn't draw everyone's attention, then the sight of the little, chubby octopus fry who is now thrashing around in Floyd's arms, horrified and on the verge of sobbing and inking, definitely will. Professor Crewel can only sigh as he scolds Floyd, his admonishment going in one ear and out the other. For now, while he works to whip up a cure to reverse the effects of the potion Floyd had concocted, Azul will have to be kept in a saltwater tank and dutifully monitored. Floyd doesn't want to do all of that work, so he hands Azul, who is hiding curled and camouflaged in the tank, off to Jade, who also doesn't wish to be burdened with this at the moment. Both twins joke about how delicious Azul looks, and though Azul can only communicate in high-pitched cries and gurgles and whines (typical baby language), his mind is damning the both of them to the deepest sea trench.

This is where you come into the picture. The twins happily carry the tank over to Ramshackle, insisting that you open the door because they have a surprise for you. You're not sure what you were expecting, but this definitely wasn't it. They ask you to watch Azul while they gather the supplies Crewel needs to create a cure. Jade even went out of his way to write up a list of things to keep baby Azul occupied and placated while he's gone. Azul is absolutely mortified that you have to see him like this. It was one thing to be seen by classmates and the twins; it's another to be seen by his crush! He thrashes so wildly in the tank that water slops over the edge and drenches Grim in the process, who was already very against keeping someone as dangerous as Azul in the comforts of Ramshackle.

"He's even more troublesome when he's little!" Grim complains, sticking his tongue out at Azul through the glass, who scowls darkly at him in response.

Like you're any better, Azul thinks, recalling every instance Grim has caused trouble. He could probably tick each off on a tentacle.

"It's only for a few hours," Jade says, as if that's meant to be consoling to a soaked, unamused Grim. "He's mostly harmless in this form."

"Mostly?" Grim looks to you, shaking his head (and the rest of his body to dry himself) in hopes that you'll mirror his disagreement.

For once, Azul agrees with Grim. He does not want to be here with you for the next few hours, where you'll have to look at such an ugly, squishy, gross form! But before any other negative thoughts can wedge themselves in his brain, you shrug and say, "Okay. Just a few hours, right? I don't have anything planned, so we can watch him."

Azul knows it's impossible for him to drown when he's a child of the sea, but he really wants to in this moment.

"Yaaay! Thanks, shrimpy!" Floyd beams at you, and Azul glares at him. How can he smile like that when it was his carelessness that got Azul into this predicament in the first place?! Floyd peers down at Azul in the water, teasing as always. "Be good for shrimpy and baby seal, 'kay?"

Jade chuckles when Azul splashes a giggling Floyd square in the face. Though he can't verbalize his thoughts, he's cursing him in every language he knows. "Now, now, Azul," Jade chides lightly, a wicked smile stretching on his lips. He hides it behind a gloved hand. "Try not to miss us too much."

He rolls his eyes and turns away from Jade, curling in on himself. This day has only gotten worse. He's so miserable.

After the twins have placed the tank on a table in your room, which is actually decorated quite nicely, they leave to retrieve the ingredients. Azul stares at the interior, committing everything he sees to memory. Maybe this situation isn't too terrible; it's allowed him to be inside your room, a very sacred space he never would have gotten to see under normal circumstances. But then the nature of what he is comes creeping back when he spies his tentacles and it reminds him that anything would be better than this.

You lower into the chair and peer at the glass, placing your finger on it. He reacts without meaning to, affixing the sucker-lined side of his tentacle upon the place where your finger rests. You smile at him, but it isn't a cruel, ridiculing smile.

"Alchemy accident, huh?" you venture calmly, and he's about to respond when he realizes he can't exactly speak actual words when he's in this form. "Don't worry, Azul. You'll be back to your human form in no time."

"Let's hope he stays far away from us after this. He and those shady look-alike brothers," Grim grumbles, sitting atop the table, paws crossed in defiance. "Ya think we could get somethin' free at the lounge for doing a good deed like this? Hmm. Probably not. He's greedy, so he'd make us pay no matter what."

Please, Azul thinks sardonically, hating the idea of being indebted to you and Grim. I'd rather pay for your silence than make you cough up anything.

"Maybe. Maybe not," you reply before turning your attention back to Azul, your eyes glittering excitedly. "So this is what baby Azul looks like. He's actually really cute."

Far from it, Azul thinks bitterly before the realization sinks in. Cute. You called him cute. You think he's...cute.

On one hand, getting called "cute" by his crush is a very good thing! But when it's the form he dislikes most that's called cute... Azul isn't sure if he should just accept it and act like a cute fry to get more compliments from you, or if he should just curl in on himself and hope he vanishes from your sight so he won't feel so embarrassed.

At least he gets to spend some time with you. That's certainly one positive to come out of a very negative situation.

#twisted chit chat

214 notes · View notes

panandinpain0 · 8 months

Note

Oh also

🔫🔫

write something for hermione anything

Not Such a Stranger

Et Voila!

Enjoy this little meet-cute I shoved in there :)

@@@

Requested by: @mailmango

Hermione Granger x GN!Gryffindor!Reader

Hermione rolled her eyes, not amused by the situation in the slightest. Harry and Draco were inches away from each other’s faces, which were both bright red. Ron was behind Harry, sizing up Draco’s goons and seemingly getting ready for a physical fight.

Seeing as this had already happened twice this week, Hermione was over it. Looking to the shop beside them, the one they were headed to in the first place, Hermione started walking towards the door. Harry and Ron didn’t even notice as she left, but she figured they’d find her when their anger wore off.

“Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop” was written above the doorway, a bell ringing as she walked in.

“Welcome! Shout if you need anything,” a kind woman from behind the front desk announced, sorting through a new shipment of quills.

Hermione somewhat nodded in acknowledgment before walking over to a table display of new feather types. Uninterested in any of the quills in front of her she decided to stick with her usual quills. As she started to walk away, her eyes caught a display on the wall, distracting her.

She was startled when she ran into something- or rather, someone. A hand reached out to steady her, landing on her up arm as a gasp escaped her lips.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I should’ve been looking where I’m going, I apologize. Are you alright?”

Her head snapped back up at the voice, and she decided she could have heard it for the rest of her life and still been happy. She had to blink a bit, realizing the person in front of her had asked her a question.

“I’m sorry… what?” Her hand had gone up to hold their arm as well, the two connected.

“Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt or anything, did you?” They repeated.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry, I'm fine. I’m only glad I didn’t fall.” Hermione quickly nodded, taking the chance to look the person over. They were wearing a cloak, they clearly went to Hogwarts from the emblem on the breast. She blinked, yet again, in surprise as she noticed the red and gold lining of the black cloak. “You- are you in Gryffindor?”

The person, taken aback by the question, darted their gaze down to where Hermione had been looking.

“Oh, um, yes! We… We share some classes together as well. Actually we were paired up in Transfiguration at the beginning of this year.” They looked just as confused as Hermione felt, and their eyes flashed with hurt for a moment.

“I’m… sorry, I can’t say that I remember that.” She felt a bit ashamed. “But I think it’s time we’ve been formally introduced,” Hermione decided aloud, letting go of their arm as it dropped from her shoulder. She held out her hand as an offer for them to shake it. “I’m Hermione Granger, I’m in my sixth year. What’s your name?” She tried to smile, though she was quite embarrassed about not recognizing or knowing them.

Clearing their throat the person smiled as well, meeting her hand halfway. “(Y/N) (L/N), sixth year as well. It’s nice to officially meet you, Granger.”

“And you, (L/N).”

Their hands shook in the middle.

The Next Day…

Having gotten to Ancient Runes early, Hermione picked a seat towards the front of the room. She sat in the second row to the front, pulling out her books and then testing out her new quills. Pulling back from the paper after writing, she admired the smooth lettering, ink drying on the parchment.

Other students started filing into the room as she waited for class to start, not expecting someone to tap her on the shoulder. Looking up to meet the person’s eyes, her own widened with recognition.

“Oh, (L/N)! I didn’t know we had Ancient Runes together,” she commented, looking them over again. They looked wonderful today, a maroon sweater with the Hogwarts emblem on it was over their button up and tie. They looked comfortable. Hermione totally didn’t want to hug them to see if they were warm.

“In your defense, you didn’t really know I existed until a few days ago,” (Y/N) laughed in response. They motioned towards the empty seat next to her, “Is this seat taken?”

“No! Please, sit,” Hermione smiled eagerly, quickly adjusting her hair when they looked away. As they put their bag down and pulled out their books Hermione tried to get it together- she shouldn’t scare them off. Act normal, Hermione.

Unfortunately for her, she was so busy thinking about not messing up that she failed to hear the question (Y/N) had asked her.

“Yes! I mean… what?”

You already failed, Hermione.

With an amused laugh, (Y/N) repeated themself, “Why’d you decide to take Runes?”

“Oh! I’m not really sure. I want to take all the classes Hogwarts has, and Dumbledore allowed me to take a few extras. I thought Runes would be fun,” Hermione explained, putting her elbow on the desk and resting her chin in her hand.

“And is it? Fun, that is.”

Hermione looked to the side for a moment, considering the question. “I think so. It’s hard, and annoying a lot of the time, but it challenges me. It’s hard to find things that challenge me recently.”

(Y/N) smiled at her, nodding in understanding. Hermione misinterpreted the smile, thinking they thought she was being arrogant.

“I didn’t mean to brag! I just meant that-!” She was stopped by a hand on her arm.

“Don’t worry, Granger. I didn’t think that at all, I admire it if anything.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And it helps me get to know you better,” (Y/N) added.

“It does?” Hermione’s brows creased in confusion, finding herself unable to think straight when (Y/N) smiled at her like that.

“Mhm. Now I know you like to learn. What else do you like? Oh- better question- what do you not like?” (Y/N) smirked, copying Hermione’s previous pose of placing their chin in their palm.

“Well, I-”

“Please settle down! Class will begin in a moment,” Professor Babbling announced, gathering papers at the front of the room on her desk.

“I guess we’ll just have to meet up again later to talk about it,” (Y/N) concluded, shrugging and relaxing back into their chair.

“Okay,” Hermione whispered back, still in an odd haze. She smiled shyly when (Y/N) wasn’t looking at her, turning to the front of the room and playing with her quill.

Wait- did they just ask her out?

After Class…

(Y/N) stood up from their chair, gathering up their work and putting it in their bag. Hermione, who’d slightly forgotten their conversation during the long class period, started to do the same.

“So, I’ll see you at lunch?” (Y/N) asked expectantly from in front of Hermione, their face showing a gentle smile.

“What?” Hermione asked in confusion. She’d been asking them to repeat themself a lot, hadn’t she?

“To talk more. Unless you’d like to do it another time? Or not at all!” (Y/N) was quick to reassure, shaking their hands as if to take back their previous statement. They didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or make her think she had to talk to them.

Hermione smiled, laughing a bit as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Lunch it is. Where should we meet?” Hermione asked, the two walking out of the classroom together.

“Head of the table?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hermione confirmed, smiling and waving as they parted.

…

Over the next few weeks, Hermione and (Y/N) would get together at lunch to talk, that’s where they met Harry and Ron. Hermione was very glad they got along, it would’ve been a nightmare if they hadn’t. They’d meet up in the common room or the library to study together, usually Ancient Runes, but lately it’s just ended with them talking (and Hermione insisting that they need to focus).

Soon enough it was rare to see one without the other, and if they were apart they were asking where the other was. Harry and Ron weren’t disturbed by a new person in their group, and Hermione appreciated that it was more balanced now. Harry and Ron would always run off together- and it had never bothered her that they were closer than they were with her, she was just glad she had her partner now.

Well- not partner, I mean, she wished they were her partner. She means in a platonic way- of course. Obviously.

…

Break for the Christmas Holidays was coming up and the group was in the common room, hogging the fireplace. Harry and Ron were on the floor playing wizards chess, Hermione and (Y/N) on the couch. They were shoulder-to-shoulder, using each other for support while they read their respective books, sharing a blanket.

“So Harry, are you still coming over for Christmas?” Ron asked Harry expectantly, worried that Harry would try to stay at Hogwarts again.

“If Mrs. Weasley doesn’t mind. I still feel bad for intruding, no matter how often I’ve been over there,” Harry insisted, commanding one of his pieces to move.

“Mum always says you’re welcome, and you know she’ll get mad at me if you don’t come,” Ron responded, destroying one of Harry’s pieces.

“Alright, if you say so.”

“What about you, ‘Mione? (Y/N)?” Ron asked the two on the sofa, eyes not leaving the board on the floor.

“My parents are expecting me this year, but say hi to your mum for me. My parents and I will be sending a gift when I get home,” Hermione responded, flipping a page in her book.

“I’m staying here again this year,” (Y/N) responded, looking up slowly as they found all three Gryffindors staring at them. “What?”

“How many years have you spent Christmas at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Uhm… six.”

“You’re in your sixth year, though,” Ron commented, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yup,” (Y/N) replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Would you like to come over to my house this Christmas? My parents would love to have you,” Hermione offered, putting her book down for a moment.

“They don’t even know me, and I wouldn’t want to intrude,” (Y/N) insisted, pretending to go back to their book.

“Oh, they know you alright,” Harry snickered, the boys going back to their chess. The two had swiped one of Hermione’s letters she’d been writing, teasing her about her crush, much to her dismay. She had written to her parents all about (Y/N).

“What do you mean-?”

“You wouldn’t be intruding, really!” Hermione interrupted, glaring at Harry before smiling at (Y/N). “What do you say?”

“Well… if I really wouldn’t be a bother…”

“You wouldn’t,” Hermione insisted.

(Y/N) slowly nodded, “Alright. Thank you, Hermione.” And they both settled back into their previous position, shoulders resting against each other.

At the Granger’s…

“I told you they’d love you!” Hermione laughed as the two entered her room, putting their bags on the ground.

“Your parents are wonderful, ‘Mione,” (Y/N) replied with their own laugh, looking around her room. “So, this is where you grew up?” They inspected a picture of her with some of her muggle friends.

“Yes, it is. Some of it’s embarrassing, really,” Hermione nervously chuckled as she quickly hid some of her stuffed animals.

“I think it’s sweet,” (Y/N) muttered in response, admiring a candid picture that her friend had taken of her while they were camping.

Hermione just shook her head, sitting on the bed.

Rolling her eyes, she laughed again, “Stop snooping! Come here.” She motioned for them to lay down with her. As they sat on the covers she flopped back, the mattress bouncing when (Y/N) joined her.

“Thank you, Hermione. This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“But Christmas is tomorrow,” Hermione replied with a curious tone, turning her head on the mattress to see their face. They returned the gesture, smiling at her.

“I know.”

Their pinky brushed the back of her hand, and Hermione slowly responded, linking their fingers together.

Snow fell outside, thick snowflakes sticking to the glass as the two Gryffindors shared a kiss. Only the first of many to come.

End

Hope you liked it mango! I enjoyed writing it!

-Author Max <3

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #fandoms #harry potter #hermione granger #hermione x reader #hermione x gn!reader #x they/them reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader

54 notes · View notes

soft-for-them · 1 year

Text

Bracelet names and drying washing - Gilbert Blythe x plus size reader

Summary: You were just washing clothes until your soul mark appears (Soulmate AU, can be seen as any version of Gilbert.)

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: I've written that the reader doesn't go to church, so interpret it as you will because too much historical fan fiction makes the reader automatically Christian and white thus excluding POCs and non Christians and I'm not here for that. Also not proofread.

Clothes of many colours hang on the washing line as morning comes and goes.

The sun is bright and it’s surprisingly warm with only a small amount of chilly wind jostling the damp clothes on the line. For an hour now you’ve been washing clothes, at the moment a particularly gruelling mud stain on a rich blue skirt snatching your attention away from the nice warm day. Normally you would soak such stain but you’re being paid to get rid of it quickly so you scrub and scrub and scrub at it.

Your sleeves are rolled up to your chubby upper arms, your own skirt wet with dirtied water as you sit awkwardly on a foot stall, a bucket of yellowing water in front of you.

On a day like today you’d normally be outside reading a book on your little hill maybe even going on a nice walk but you need the money for repairs to your home and really you need the distraction from you little crush so you carry on attacking the dried mud on the skirt like it’s the only thing to do on this nice day.

You’re up to your elbows in murky water so you don’t see the black smudge forming around your wrist, even when you do see a smidgen of black you just rub at it thinking that it’s a bit of mud not noticing that the mark has become jet black and permanent.

“How do you get so much mud on a skirt!” you mutter to yourself as you lift the skirt from the water bucket, the long royal blue skirt belonging to one of the daughters of the local shop owner, the martial too nice for such simple garment and the waist line too tiny for someone as round as you can wear.

It must be a skirt someone would wear to a wedding or church but you don’t go to church so you have no clue how someone could get so much mud on it, especially when it’s so sunny. It’s almost always sunny for crying out loud, you get having grass stains but mud!

You dunk the skirt back in the bucket and pull it back up.

“Ah! YES!” you cheer, the mud stain now finally gone.

You go to stand and a hang the skirt on the washing line strung between two sturdy trees but your eyes trains down to your wrist, the so called mud that you had wiped off still lingering there.

Dark and bold link black ink, your try to wipe away the mark around your wrist only for the swirl of black to solidify on your skin a name now clear on your (s/c) skin.

Gilbert Blythe.

Like a bracelet around your wrist, the capital ‘G’ starting on the side of your wrist below your thumb, the cursive writing whimsical but clear.

You drop the skirt.

Splashes of dirty water jumps out the bucket onto the dull brown of your dress the water soaking through your shift to your soft body.

Frozen is shock your mind starts to wonder as a small gust of cold wind attacks the drying washing.

For years now you’ve loved Gilbert Blythe, ever since your family moved here when you were twelve. You’ve always been an odd one out in the community being that you don’t look like the average person who lives around here. Most people around here are thin, white and middle aged with an ever growing family, most of which are avid church goers who are very old fashioned in there ways.

Gilbert has always been kind to you but he had fallen in love with another, thus your heart breaking and you solemnly moving on. Still you stayed kind to all, to him especially and now you’re an adult you thought your love for him had dissipated but then Anne of Green Gables took a scholarship and moved away.

Somehow that love young you had for him sprouted back up and for the last year you’ve been trying not to be a bumbling blushing idiot in front of Gilbert.

Your thoughts of his handsome face and the utter shock of your soul mark bearing his name appearing today of all days is suddenly interrupted by another gust of wind, a wind so strong that a petticoat rips form the washing line carrying it down the hill from where you stand.

“Fuck!”

You hope no one is around to hear and see you for you bolt after the petticoat, your mouth running with curse words of varying vulgarity.

Out of breath with legs beginning to ache you almost fall flat on your face, the grass of the small hill near the trees and stream were you were washing suddenly changing into a thin dirt road. You momentum subsides, your chest heaving up and down as your whole body aches from the sudden running and from all the scrubbing you've been doing.

There standing on the other side of the road (well it’s more just a line of dead grass but it’s used as a road none the less) stands a man, a man you know all too well.

Gilbert walks over to you with equal parts concern and amusement, a damp petticoat in one hand his other hand, more specifically, his other wrist bare, his shirt sleeve rolled up to his elbow.

His white shirt is crumple, his blazer long forgotten, his shoes covered is grass and dirt from running, his eyes sparkling with wonder and hope.

On his wrist in ink black writing, your handwriting to be exact, the name (Y/n) (L/n) big and bold lays like a bracelet.

#gilbert blythe #gilbert blythe x reader #anne of green gables #anne with an e #anne of green gables x reader #anne with an e x reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader

209 notes · View notes

minecraftbookshelf · 5 months

Note

Writing prompt idea: deer!impulse

Deer!Impulse with bonus Demon/Imp!Gem (and a little something else :) )

[My Gem headcanons HERE and HERE]

It feels Off.

And not just because the antlers are heavier than his horns, the deer tail is shorter and thicker than his own, or even that he now has hooves instead of feet and his pants just don’t fit anymore.

He’s sitting in Gem’s kitchen, wearing a hastily thrown together skirt/kilt hybrid and contemplating the way it feels like he’s taken a step to the left.

Annoyingly, Gem seems to have adjusted very quickly. Bouncing around the room as quickly and smoothly as she usually does. Only very occasionally tripping over her new, wire-thin tail. She also seems distracted throwing together some emergency soup, so Impulse takes advantage of that to close his eyes and delve deeper into his own being.

On the one side he feels more...grounded, then he usually does. As an infernal being, it doesn’t matter how long he’s spent on the Overworld, a part of it will always be foreign to him and he to it. A part of that feels gone. Like he finally, truly belongs here. But also…

Somehow it all seems further away at the same time. As if for the first time he has both feet on dry land, but also might shoot off into the sky at any second.

On the outside Impulse looks like a deer-kin but on the inside he feels as if he’s brushing up against something much, much bigger.

“Are you okay, Impulse?”

He opens his eyes again, disoriented, and Gem is right there. Dark eyes wide, her new horns almost hidden beneath her hair. Head tilted to the side in curiosity.

A shiver goes up Impulse’s spine.

“You aren’t,” he gestures vaguely. “You aren’t just a deer. Are you.”

It’s not a question.

Gem smiles, gentle and warm with the sharpness of a diamond blade beneath it. She leans across the table and presses a finger to her lips.

“Shhhhhhh.”

Because I’m me I couldn’t help but make these like, a series/one connected idea. Very vague setting but general story is Shenanigans happen and the hermits find themselves swapping species at random for a day and then remixing and swapping again with someone else etc…

So this can hypothetically go on for as long as I get prompts for it, and repeats are enabled and it can all be one story. (I also have a plan to cover at least some level of like, “different” species for the same hermit)

The Official Prompt List by @ink-ghoul can be found HERE feel free to send asks that aren’t strictly from the list. I might also randomly generate some using my own headcanons just for funsies.

#ask and it shall be answered #grimaussiewitch #hermit swap ask meme #impulsesv #geminitay #rain rambles #rain writes fanfiction #I am very much still accepting asks for these prompts!#anon and repeat and 'spamming' asks all welcome #hermit fanon swap

23 notes · View notes

crystal-verse · 10 months

Text

Wolgraha week day 1: first kiss

[i found out there was an event. i immediately write a thing for the event. rejoice, because it'll be a hot second until i can write the post-ARR part of my crystal verse so y'all get this on tumblr only for now]

He's shy when he walks up to you, tail swishing behind him as he navigates the many crystals littering North Silvertear. There's grace in those steps -- G'raha has always been a bit graceful like that, not enough to be obvious but enough for you to notice if you spend a lot of time looking at him. Which, you do -- you, Sae'pheli'ehva, K'pheli Tia, spend quite a bit of time looking at G'raha. But -- that's beside the point.

He sits beside you, G'raha, and there's a question lingering on the tip of his tongue. You can tell it in the feel of the air, that slight sheen of nerves in those blue-and-red eyes of his. (You've always liked the blue eye better, that sea-blue sea-green shade, sitting between the two colors.)

You lean against him. It's cold, that day, and you appreciate the comfort of a warm body beside you.

He speaks. "May I kiss you?"

And you turn -- turn to look at him, all his confidence and shy nerves mixed upon his pretty, pretty face. You love him, you think. Not because of a crush, some silly infatuation -- you love him because for all his flaws and all his charm and all his everything, it is G'raha that you have worked to love, and the more you work for it the more you can feel that love settle. Something like romance, almost, for one who has no idea what romance is, who has never had a crush before.

You take one of his hands in yours. "If you would like." You tell him, and you put a smile on your face -- soft, quiet, shy, like G'raha is in this moment. "I would like to kiss you."

Your answer emboldens him -- he scoots forwards, closer to you from where you both sit on the ground, and he lifts his hands to cup your face. His eyes are ruby fire cherries glinting red and glass ice crystal shimmering blue, and his lips are soft and full, and he kisses you -- softly, slowly, sweetly. He kisses you as if you are something delicate, something that must be treated oh so gently for risk of being shattered, something more precious and priceless than anything else the earth could hold. He kisses you and his lips taste of lemon and honey, taste of the chapstick you had given him a week ago, and he kisses you and you cannot help but lean in, slide your eyelids closed, and focus on this -- on the heat of his lips against yours and his hands against your cheeks, on the soft noise of his breathing, of the way his vest and trousers feel bunched up in your hands as you cling to him.

It is, you think, as the two of you pull away and you open your eyes, a wonderful first kiss.

"Was that good?" He asks, your G'raha, your scholar with an eye of seaglass and an eye of carnelian.

You're sure your smile is wide enough to fill your whole mouth, and you press your forehead against his. "Yeah." Voice as quiet as his was. Something soft. Delicate. Treasured, as he'd treasured you. "It was."

#bound with thread | original posts #ink gone dry | writing #divine being of crystal and star | k'pheli tia (sae'pheli'ehva)#g'raha tia #wolgraha week 2023 #wolgraha #i refuse to change my organizational tags thus you get the fancy long tags contrasted with shorter standard ones. huzzah

10 notes · View notes

phdmama · 1 year

Text

Written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt (you guessed it!): careless

~400 words (I KNOW I KNOW I JUST CAN’T), Teen cw: discussion of panic, post-trauma stuff, slightly open ending (but hopeful! I promise!), 8th year, roommates, pre-relationship moment, pretty much SOOC (straight out of camera), but it feels good to write some words!

Harry isn’t careless with his things.

He grew up — not poor exactly, there was money, just not for him — but understanding that he had no safety net. Even though he has money now, enough, more than enough, more than he ever could have dreamed of when he was small and sad and alone under the stairs, he’s still very careful. It still doesn’t feel safe.

He’s meticulous. He takes care of things. He knows where they go and he puts them away, every single time. He’s not careless.

But right now, Harry can’t find his fountain pen, the gorgeous one that he’d treated himself to at the beginning of the year, the pen that makes him feel smart and educated and like he’s got his shit together because look, his fountain pen has a palladium nib and he always refills it before it can run out of ink. His pen is missing. It’s not in his bag. It’s not on his nightstand. It’s not anywhere that Harry can find it, and he’s really starting to panic now. He’s ripped his room apart, stripped the bed, dumped out his desk drawers, and still. He can’t find it.

Harry drops down to sit on his bare mattress, head in his hands as he tries to slow his frantic breathing. He can’t think, can’t do anything but feel the pounding of terror in his chest. Lost. It’s lost. Gone. He’s lost so much already, he thinks. This feels like too much.

The door opens and Malfoy comes in, already in mid-sentence, but he freezes when he sees the state of the room.

“What the fuck happened here, Potter?” he asks, sounding aggrieved but then he clocks the way Harry is sitting, slumped over, beyond panic now, and Malfoy hurries across the room.

“Potter, hey,” he says quietly and puts a hand on Harry’s back, heavy between his shoulder blades. “What happened?”

Harry’s throat is dry as he croaks, “I can’t find my…” He takes a shuddery inhale. “I can’t find my pen.”

Harry manages to turn his head to look at Malfoy, who is looking right back at him, brow furrowed.

“Did you forget you’re a wizard?” he asks gently. “You can Accio it.”

After they find the pen and set the room to rights, they sit, side by side, on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“Potter,” Malfoy says after a long silence. “You’re not okay.”

Harry swallows. Presses his knee against Malfoy’s.

“I know,” he says finally. “I know.”

#drarry microfic #my writing #why am I like this?#sorry pals #Harry Potter and the PTSD

73 notes · View notes

inkheartedwanderer · 2 years

Text

the last in line || e.m.

in which you really need coffee and eddie just happens to be in your way

eddie x fem!reader we’ve all heard of luna lovegood readers, now I give you lorelai gilmore readers (aka caffeine-fueled slightly chaotic individuals).

content: meet-cute, a lil’ bit of flirting, a lil’ bit of caffeine dependency, 100% inspired by my favourite story in gilmore girls, badly proofread because it’s 2:30am

word count: 2.9k

The diner is unsurprisingly busy, like every Friday night, when the Hellfire Club walks in. Small but cozy, it’s located on the very edge of town. The checkered floor is sticky and the smell of oil mixed with cinnamon clings to the light blue walls and the fake leather seats like bad perfume, but they always have rock music playing softly in the background and, better yet, they make the best burger and fries in town since Benny’s closed down -greasy, tasty and cheap. Perfect for a bunch of hungry boys with limited budgets.

Grabbing a bite after their weekly meetings has become new a tradition now that Eddie and Jeff have graduated, both boys part of Hellfire still, their friendship and bonds over shared interests transcending the halls of Hawkins High. They’re a rowdy group, rambunctious and loud, and they don’t have the best reputation in town, but the owner knows them and always welcomes them in without qualms, just a plea to keep the noise to a minimum. They try their best to behave and fail half the time.

Tonight, the Club is particularly animated. They started a new campaign earlier today and Eddie’s gone all out. With an intricately designed storyline, extra minor quests, tricky villains and a surprise plot twist at the end that no one’s expecting, this is his best work yet, if he says so himself. Satisfied with the feedback he’s received so far, Eddie is in a very good mood as they sit around their usual booth, one to the right that’s big enough for all seven of them, so much so that he volunteers to order for the group.

As it often happens when they get together, chaos ensues, each boy outscreaming the others trying to get their leader’s attention, words mixing in that cacophony of incoherent noise that seems to follow them everywhere. But if the party’s loud, Eddie Munson is louder, and he commands attention with ease. Slamming is ringed hand on the wooden table, he makes himself heard. “Shut up!”

Six pairs of eyes focus on him, knowing better than to try and argue with the boy -he’s nothing if not stubborn, and although kind and generous, Eddie hates to be contradicted or ignored. So they look in silence, expectantly, as they do when they’re in the middle of a campaign and he’s weaving stories in a low voice.

A cheeky smile that borders on condescension spreads across Eddie’s lips when he leans over the table.“Now, boys, let’s behave.” He slides out of his seat and shoves his hands into his pockets, retrieving a crumpled piece of paper that he smoothes out on the table. “Do any of you have a pen?”

Dustin rummages through his backpack and hands Eddie a nearly dry pen from the front pocket. He struggles to get the ink flowing, idly leaning forward, resting on his elbows, but finally manages to write down their orders, pointing to his friends one by one so they speak in turn. He then stands up, snatches the paper with a flourish and walks towards the bar.

He passes by two teenage girls who send disgusted looks his way, and when Eddie wiggles his fingers in mock salute, they turn their attention back to one of the many magazines spread out on the table between them.

There’s a couple holding hands and what seems to be a family of four already at the counter, the parents struggling to read the menu and keep their two young children quiet. While the father tries to control a restless boy, the mother is holding a pouty little girl on her hip.

Eddie sighs dramatically to himself and stops a few feet behind, waiting for his turn with an exaggerated sour face. He busies himself thinking about the latest song he’s working on, his fingers playing invisible chords on his thigh, his foot tapping the floor to a beat only he can hear. It draws the attention of the little girl, who looks at him over her mum’s shoulder with big curious eyes.

The boy smiles and sticks out his tongue at her, chuckling amusedly when she hides behind her mother’s hair. He’s considering talking to her when he feels two taps on his shoulder.

Eddie turns around, confusion clouding his features, only to find you glancing up at him with a wide smile and gleaming eyes. He raises an eyebrow and gives you a quick once-over. You look a little dishevelled, your clothes wrinkled and a red scrunchie doing a poor job at holding your hair back, but it kind of works for you. You’re cute, he thinks. And if Eddie Munson is sure of anything in this life is that cute girls like you don’t walk up to him and strike up a conversation. And yet…

“Hiya.” You say, too brightly, too cheerily for Eddie’s taste.

“Hi..?” He answers, polite but cautious. He’s been the target of one too many attempted pranks at the hands of his classmates, not that any were successful, and he instantly feels on edge at the memory of a giggly cheerleader walking up to him, trying to trick him into an obviously fake date.

“How’s it going?” You’re jiggling on your feet, blinking owlishly at him, and he’s getting nervous, a feeling tiptoeing the line between anticipation and apprehension. No, cute girls like you don’t usually chat Eddie up, but oh, how he wishes you would.

“‘M great.” Eddie ducks his head to level his eyes with yours, squinting. You notice the way his jaw clenches and your smile grows bigger. “Can I help you?” He instantly dislikes the bite to his words, his prudence turned into unfair resentment, but if you pick up on it, you give no sign of it.

“Well, now that you mention it…,” you motion to the counter with your hand, nails painted a pretty dark red colour that Eddie likes very much, “...can I go first?”

The boy snorts. He must have heard wrong. “Excuse me?”

You don’t lose your saccharine sweet smile. Instead, you clasp your hands together, shifting from one foot to the other to the rhythm of the music. “Can I order first?”

Definitely not what Eddie was expecting. The boy takes a quick look around. No one seems to be listening to your conversation, there’s no group of jocks laughing at him, no friend waiting for you in a booth with a smug smirk on her face. There’s just you and those big innocent eyes of yours looking at him in a way that make his breath hitch in his throat.

Eddie stares at you. You stare back.

“…no.” He turns around, his back to you, positively dumbfounded.

“Oh, come on!” You move to stand beside him and he instinctively takes a step back. “There’s too many people in line already and I’m desperate here!”

Maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him, with a pinch in your eyebrows, maybe it’s the melodramatic undertone to your words -one he’s well-acquainted with-, or maybe it’s just a momentary lapse in judgement caused by all the serotonin in his bloodstream, but Eddie laughs and decides to play along.

“So am I, I have a family to feed.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder towards his booth. You lean to the side and follow the direction of his finger with your eyes. Six boys sit around a table chattering loudly, none of them paying any attention to you two.

“You’ve definitely been busy, haven’t ya?” You meet his eyes again and snicker briefly, amused by your own joke. He hopes you don’t notice the rush of blood that tinges his cheeks at your words. “I just want coffee, please, please. I’m not above begging.”

Eddie flicks his wrist and glances at his watch. “It’s 8:30 pm.”

You shrug, because duh. “I know.”

“You want coffee at 8:30 pm.” It isn’t a question as much as him stating the obvious. He’s looking at you like you have three heads.

“So what? Coffee knows no time.” You huff, pushing your lower lip out in a pout, and Eddie stares again, because it looks pink and bitten and at the end of the day, he is but a simple guy. “Look, what’s your name?”

“Eddie.”

You offer him yours in return. It’s a pretty name for a pretty girl. He tries it under his breath, and likes the way it tastes on his tongue. You won’t tell him that you’ve heard it, that he isn’t subtle, nor that you find him cute. He doesn’t need to know that, not yet -you’re now committed to your bit.

"Well, Eddie, see, life's unfortunate circumstances have made me a student. I've spent the whole day in the library,” you point to your messy clothes and hair, the result of many hours sitting at a desk and a few anxious tears, “and I'm desperate to get my coffee and go home."

Eddie rises a quizzical brow, crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side. You like the way his fluffy curls cascade over his shoulder, how they look soft to the touch. His lips twitch, trying to conceal a smile, but the lines under his eyes, right where his eyelashes touch betray him and your heart bumps and thumps in your chest. “You’ve come here all the way from the library to get coffee? We’re on the other side of town.”

“What can I say? Donny makes the best coffee in Hawkins.”

“You’re on a first name basis with the owner?”

There’s a glint in your eyes and a dimple in your smile when you reply, like you’re hiding secrets and daring him to find them out. “I’m on a first name basis with anyone who gives me what I want.”

If Eddie was nervous before, now his stomach is doing somersaults for completely different reasons. His cheeks are burning and he prays to whoever is listening that they don’t look as red as they feel. And then, he does what he’s best at when he feels out of control: he ignores the issue and backs off, willing his poor heart to calm down from its frantic rattling.

“You- you have problems.”

“So I’ve been told.” You answer, clearly amused, and your laugh sounds like bells, light and melodious, like it belongs in a song. When he doesn’t answer, you try again, the urge to push his buttons rivaling your need for caffeine. “You know, I don’t think good ol’ Ronnie would appreciate your lack of chivalry.”

At the bar, the couple has already ordered and the waitress moves on to the family. The little girl is sound asleep in her mother’s arms, but the boy is still babbling and in full motion, climbing up the stool and jumping off to the floor, running away and back under the tired watch of his father.

Eddie steps forward, away from you and your bizarre, albeit charming -not that he would admit it- nonsense, and exhales. “What are you talking about?”

You poke the patch on the back of his vest. “Ronnie James Dio?” Eddie gives you a puzzled look and you throw your head back, defeat and fatigue taking away all the fun. Puns are less funny if you have to explain them. “The Last in Line?” You make a motion with your arms, signaling first to where he’s standing, then to the empty space behind you.

It’s Eddie’s turn to look at the ceiling, choking back a laugh. “Holy shit.” He drags out the words, then looks at you with an expression that’s somewhere between deeply exasperated and thoroughly entertained. “That one’s bad, sweetheart, that one’s veeeery bad. Just for that, I won’t let you go first. See, me and my boys are really hungry, can’t have the kids waiting. Sorry, love.”

Your face falls, jaw slacked in dramatic offence. You really want coffe and really, really want to go home and crash into your bed; but you also think Eddie’s attractive, you like the subtle dimples in his smile and how flustered you can get him. And there’s a challenge in his eyes, you see it clear as day, dancing in between specs of chocolate and umber, a challenge that you can’t refuse.

You study the boy, scanning him up and down; the quirk of your brow making him hold his breath. Your eyes flick to the right, then back to his face, a promise of trouble and mischief in your smirk. “When’s your birthday?”

Eddie frowns, confused. “January 26, why?”

“I’ll be right back.”

He watches as you nip over to the table where the two teenage girls are sitting, helpless victims to your machinations. They protest when you snatch a magazine from their hands and turn the pages roughly until you find what you want, only to grab the pen one of them is holding and scribble something down furiously. With a swift motion, you tear the bottom of the page out and stroll back to his side, ignoring the girls’ angry whines.

You stop a few feet away from Eddie and stretch out your arm, offering him the torn paper. He takes it, curiosity winning over reluctance, and reads. It’s the horoscope section of whichever tween magazine the girls were reading. Under Aquarius, in swooping letters, and with a little smiley face adorning the corner, you’ve written:

“You will meet an annoying woman today. The faster she gets her coffee, the faster she will go away.”

Eddie can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips, clear and warm and boyish. You smile as he looks at you, then back at the paper and at you again. He bites his lower lip, thoughts racing his a mile a minute. Perhaps sometimes cute girls do approach people like him, and not just for a laugh at his expense. Perhaps he finds you endearing, the same way his friends accept his own antics and weird moods.

He nods once, pointing at you with his chin, pursing his lips to hide his grin. “Do you actually like Dio?”

“Duh,” you say, not unkindly, playfully, as if you’ve known each other for years, “The Last In Line is great, but I think Holy Diver is still my favourite.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Eddie beams at you, teeth on full display, dimples and laughter lines adorning the pretty curve of his lips. And then, to your delight, with a wave of his arm, he takes a step back and bows. “Please, m’lady, go ahead.”

You take his place in line and laugh again, that joyous sound that rings like music, like it should be in a ballad, or an anthem, like maybe Eddie should record it and put it in his new song. He may ask you, if he gathers enough courage before you go.

With a warm coffee to go held tightly in your hands, you turn around, away from the counter, finally all set to go home. You take one, two, three steps and stop right in front of Eddie. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

“You lucked out, y’know?” He leans in, confidentially. “Any other guy would’ve called Pennhurst straight away.”

“How, oh kind sir, will I ever repay you?” You nudge him softly. You’re somehow closer than you were before, looking up at him through your lashes, and if he didn’t know better, Eddie would think you’re playing coy.

You’re giving him the opportunity, he realises, the one chance to ask for what you both want. He’d be an utter fool not to take it.

“You can go out with me some time.”

And you don’t know if it’s his boldness, or those awfully big brown eyes, or maybe it’s both, but you’re suddenly speechless and can only nod, cheeks burning hot, until words find you again. Only one. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Eddie’s eyes widen, like he can’t believe his luck, because he truly can’t, and he’s fearless because of you, “it’s a date.”

You look to the floor, hiding your face, hiding a smile. “Sounds great.” And you make to the door; your heart in a frenzy inside your chest, blood rushing to your ears, numbing the sounds around you until Eddie’s voice calling your name reaches you crystal clear.

“Hey! I don’t have your number…”

You turn around slowly, that mischievous glint back in your eyes. “I think you do. Good night, Eddie.”

The door chimes when you push it, the sound of the late evening traffic coming in from the street until it closes again behind you. You don’t look back and leave him wanting, anticipating, the cogs turning in his head.

He looks down at the ripped paper he’s still holding like a trophy and, on a hunch, flips it around. There it is, in the same sloping handwriting. Your phone number, with a little heart doodle at the end.

Eddie must be dreaming. Today is definitely a great day.

🌷 🌷 🌷

a/n: thank you so much for reading 💖 I really hope you like this one, and if you’re Gilmore Girls fans please let’s chat! 🫶🏻😇💖 As always, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and welcome.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff #fluff

167 notes · View notes

azsazz · 2 years

Text

Ruby Red

Cassian x Reader

Summary: Anon Request:Hi I love your writing! Could you maybe write something with a Cassian x Reader where they have been mates for awhile and it’s their anniversary soon and the Reader had been feeling like she hasn’t surprised him recently in the bedroom so they get like a nice red lace set and funky time ensues and Cassian is just like heart eyes for them???😵‍💫

Warnings: Smut!

Word Count: 2,624

_________________________________________

You couldn’t stop looking at him all night.

Cassian had insisted on meeting you at Rhysand and Feyre’s house for the annual Starfall party, the holiday celebrated across Velaris. You’d been confused at the time, when he told you Azriel would winnow you to the gathering, but seeing him in his sheer black shirt, halfway unbuttoned to show off his delicious tan abs and dark ink swirling across his chest, you knew that if he’d put it on in your presence you wouldn’t have made it to the party at all.

And by the smirk he wore every time his eyes caught yours he knows it too.

You hadn’t yet approached him, heading straight to pour yourself a glass of hearty liquor as your mouth had suddenly gone dry at the sight of him. It was going to be very hard to control yourself if you were by his side.

They’d always talked about males being territorial, but surely they’d have nothing on you while your mate looked like a God.

You’d seen him dressed up of course, for your mating ceremony and the dinners held with the Inner Circle, but never like this. You want to stalk over to him and run that expensive fabric through your fingers, feel it against your skin. You want your mate to take you home right now and bring you to bed.

If this is what he has planned for Starfall, you can’t even begin to wonder what Cassian is planning for your upcoming anniversary.

Taking another sip from your glass you peel your eyes from your mate and back to Feyre, who’s been speaking to you for the past few minutes while you gazed at your lover. She wears a knowing look and you flush at being caught.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat, embarrassed at the filthy nature of your thoughts when they drifted to your mate, “What were you saying?”

The High Lady shakes her head fondly, puffing out a breath of laughter, bidding you parting words as Cassian saunters over to you. Up close the material is even more beautiful, silky smooth and shimmering beneath the faelights.

“Hello, Love,” your mate places a warm hand on your arm as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. You savor the taste of him; cedar and the bitter alcohol he’s been drinking. “Why haven’t you come to greet me?” The mirth in his voice is unmistakable, his eyes glittering with mischief.

“I hardly recognized you without your leathers,” you gesture to his clothing. Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to touch the fabric. It’s exactly as soft as you imagined it and you let your fingers brush across his exposed chest, causing the male to shiver slightly.

“Do you like it?” he asks and you look up at him because he doesn’t sound cocky, he sounds genuinely worried that it’s not something you’d like seeing him in. His brows are furrowed uneasily, mouth turned downward in question.

“I love it,” you place your palm flat against his thumping heart, soothing over his skin with your thumb, “In fact, how about you come home with me and I’ll show you exactly how much I love it.”

The steady beating beneath your hand picks up at your words while your mate lets out a hearty laugh, pulling you into his chest tightly.

“(Y/N), the party’s just started,” he whispers amusedly into your hair.

You turn your head, kissing between his pectorals and giving the muscle a kitten lick, “I don’t think anyone will even notice.” A blatant lie. “We can come back afterwards,” you offer at the knowing look he gives when you peek up at him, “It’ll be like we didn’t even leave.”

His body shakes with laughter beneath you and you let out a disappointed sigh before he even speaks. “I’d like that, but I think we both know that once we get back home we won’t be leaving for the rest of the night.”

“Is that so bad?” You pout, resting your head on his chest. It’s so warm beneath your chin you could die right here a happy female, but not before you get what you so desperately want. Usually you had no trouble getting your mate to take you to bed, why is he being so hesitant all of a sudden? “We’ve been to every Starfall party for the last fifty years, I’d say we’ve earned it.”

“How I wish that I could give you everything you want, Love,” he smooths your hair back, tucking it behind your ear with a soft look.

“You can,” you protest gently, pressing your body flush against his. You don’t care who’s watching, all you want is Cassian and Cassian now.

“Don’t you want your gifts? Or dessert?” he tries to distract you but to be honest, your body pushing up against his has the warlord trying to keep his own cool. “I saw Naula and Cerridwen made your favorite.”

“I don’t care,” you stare up at him with the look that you know he can’t refuse. “All I want is you.”

Gods, he really tried his best. He’d lasted all of a half hour before his walls started crumbling down. Just by the looks you were giving him he’d known he’d done well. He’d stayed clear of the other females at the party, for he knew you’d ascend on them like the beautiful huntress you were if they did so much as look his way.

You are the only female that he wants.

“Let’s go,” his voice is husky. He can’t control himself when you’re like this, needy and possessive. It’s so fucking hot, he’d take any sort of teasing from his friends to see you like this.

He scoops you up into his arms and you can’t hide the grin from your face as he begins the short fly to your house. Gifted to you by the High Lord, it’s lavishly over-the-top but you’ve grown to accept and love the home you share with your mate.

You can’t keep your hands to yourself the entire flight, kissing and sucking at Cassian’s neck as he maneuvers the skies as quickly as he can, his cock straining against his nice trousers and his body vibrating with anticipation.

“(Y/N),” he gasps at a particularly arousing nip, “We’re almost home.”

“Better hurry then,” you whisper in his ear, mouthing at his lobe.

His wings pound faster.

Cassian’s knees nearly buckle when he lands on the balcony, striding across the stones and shoving open the doors with his shoulder.

You squeal as he drops you on the bed, caging you in, lust wild in his eyes. He kisses you roughly, body dipping to meet yours but then you’re pushing at his chest and he leans back, confused.

“Wait,” you gasp, and he groans as you scramble and slip from beneath him. You’d convinced him to bed you, teased him on the entire fly over, and now you’re telling him to wait?

But when he turns to face you your sultry smile has him freezing in his spot.

“What?” he asks, and you press gently at his shoulders, urging him to sit down. His cock is straining so hard against the inseam of his pants he nearly groans at the feeling but he does as he’s told.

“Your gift,” you tell him, stepping between his legs and rewarding him with a kiss. His hands snake around your waist, caressing your ass as he stares up at you, chasing the feeling of your lips against his.

“Can’t the gifts wait?” he groans, “I just want you, right here, right now.”

And that cutting grin on your face makes his cock throb in his pants. He nearly whimpers as you step away from him, shaking your hand out of his because he doesn’t want to let go.

“You’re going to like this one, I promise,” you offer, slowly sliding the straps of your dress over your shoulders.

And he absolutely does. The dark silky silver fabric cascades from your body like liquid metal, pooling on the floor at your feet and what you don underneath has your mate nearly coming at the sight.

A set of lingerie that has clearly been made custom with the finest of dark lace. He’d noted the gloves you wore with two red rubies inset on the back of your hands, but he’d just thought it a tribute to him as part of your Starfall attire. Seeing this, a jewel sewn into the revealing clothing in all of the spots his own siphons sat in his armor…he is one lucky male.

Your name is a whisper of awe as you give him a spin, his wide eyes drinking you in, committing it to memory.

You place your hand in his and he tugs you gently nearer, his breath pants and pupils blown wide with lust at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” you murmur with a soft smile, watching how his eyes graze your body. You shiver under his intense gaze.

��Let me show you exactly how much I like it,” his voice is gruff, repeating the words you’d spoken earlier in the night when you’d seen his shirt.

His grin is pure sex as he pulls you down onto the bed. You squeal at the movement, straddling his waist as he guides you to kiss him with a hand on the back of your head.

He groans into your mouth as you swirl your hips against his. You shudder, feeling the length of his cock through the fabric keeping it pinned to his leg. Gods, it’s been too long.

“You look so fucking beautiful in my siphons,” his voice is rough as he moves from your lips to your neck, palming at your breasts, thumb brushing across the jewel at the center of your chest before he mouths over it.

Cassian opens his eyes at the faint glow and his moan is guttural when he realizes that it’s the rubies glinting exactly like his stones, an extra charge that you’d had to pay, but entirely worth every single mark you’d spent on the outfit.

You trace down his exposed torso, tongue following in a hot stripe down his chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons as you go. You can feel his muscles contorting beneath your lips, his hands skimming up your thigh-high stockings, rubbing his thumbs over the two glittering stones there, the shuddering breaths from his heaving chest as he looks down at you with those burning eyes.

The button gives way easily beneath your eager fingers but the strain of his prick against the fabric of his pants has the rest of them stuck, and at the frustrated huff you let out he’s growling and tearing the fabric apart, buttons flying everywhere.

He doesn’t stop there, won’t give you the chance to tease him out of his undergarments. His hips lift up and you shriek, bracing your hands against his shoulders so you don’t topple forward while he makes quick work of pushing his bottoms down, his cock thick and dripping against his hip.

You rut against him, can’t help yourself at the sight of his enormous prick, twin groans filling the otherwise silent room.

“Let’s see how bright they get when you come,” his grin is feral and your cunt clenches, breath catching in your throat at his suggestion. You let your head roll back on your shoulders at the thought, but Cassian’s grabbing your hands and tugging you down so you’re flush against his bare body.

It’s really not fair that he’s fully naked beneath you because all you want is to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you, it’s been too long since you’d had sex, but you’ve committed to your Starfall gift and he seems to be enjoying it much more than you thought.

His fingers dip into your panties and you gasp as he brushes lightly between your folds, the stones adorning your body flickering in time with your whimpers of pleasure. Cassian curses lowly under his breath as he watches. He can’t stop looking at you, gaze moving from a stone to meet yours and back again.

“You needly little thing,” he purrs as you grind down on his fingers, gasping at the feeling of his calloused and rough hand brushing against your sensitive clit.

He could get off like this, watching you, red siphons glowing brightly, shining softly against your smooth skin in the best way, lighting your features in the sensual light. You look so incredibly beautiful atop him and he can’t control his hips as they buck up, eager for friction.

“Cass,” you plead and that’s all it takes for him to slide the lace of your panties aside and press his dripping cock into your cunt. You shudder at his girth, he’s going too slow, so you settle down onto him with a satisfied sigh, hips meeting his.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he hisses, feeling the walls of your cunt convulse around his prick, grasping your hips in a bruising grip to halt the teasing bounce you give him. “Give me a second or I’ll come right now.”

You moan at his words, pinching your nipples, utterly aroused by his admission. It had been a while since you and Cassian had been in this position, busy with your respective roles to the Night Court, but the fact that you have him nearly releasing at the first touch of you wrapped around him has you pulsing with delight.

“As long as you make me come I have no problem with that,” you release a shaky breath. Your body is vibrating with need, if he doesn’t let you start moving soon you might cry.

And of course he’ll make you orgasm, of that you have no worry. It must sound like a good plan to him because he’s moving now, planting his feet on the bed to jackknife up into you, causing a drawn-out keen to escape your mouth.

He wasn’t kidding about being close because he’s snaking his hand down once again, circling your clit at the exact rhythm he’s memorized to get you off quickly. He saved it for instances when he couldn’t help but need you, before meetings, dinners with the Inner Circle, or when he was supposed to be on watch in the Court of Nightmares, when you had looked like sin in your dress and he’d dragged you into an empty room to take care of you.

You can feel your orgasm coiling, heat pooling low in your gut, and every noise of encouragement you make has him edging closer and closer to his own. He can’t hold it in any longer, not after the particularly erotic swirl of your hips, the sihpons on your outfit burning bright with pleasure in the darkened room. You’re almost blinding to look at, ethereal in the crimson light and he tips into a pleasured state with a shout, dragging you with him.

Your body is mush when you come down from your high, body going boneless against the Illyrian beneath you. He tilts your chin up, capturing your lips in a lazy but passionate kiss as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closer.

His mouth is hot across your shoulder, teeth clasping around the strap of your top and releasing, letting the elastic snap against your skin. You jolt on top of him but he tightens his grip on you, a sheepish grin on his face when you give him a look.

Cassian brushes the hair from your face, murmuring sensually, “Keep these on. We’re most definitely going to have round two.”

#cassian smut #cass x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian/reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acomar #acotarxreader #azsazz #starfall

526 notes · View notes