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thevikingwoman · 3 years

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Anything Else?

For @augustwritingchallenge Day 2: Exotic Vacation. I didn’t plan to write this, but inspiration struck, so I went with it.

On a solo vacation to fancy Arlathan resort, Iwyn is immediately attracted to the handsome bartender. She decides to be a little selfish.

Fandom: Dragon Age . Words: 2150. Read on Ao3

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | Modern AU | smut Rating: Explicit. Sexual Content, Oral sex, age difference, older woman/younger man, slight dom/sub, sub Solas, casual sex, mention of infidelity (no main character is unfaitful)

Anything Else?

“Your drink, ma’am.”

The bartender’s voice is deep and melodious, and Iwyn looks up from her book. She placed her drink order with a young yellow haired girl, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Instead her drink, complete with pineapple slices, a tiny umbrella and a maraschino cherry, is delivered by the tall, bald elven guy she’s seen behind the beach bar.

“Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

She lets her gaze run over him, from his strong legs and blue boardshorts (sadly not tight at all), up his torso to his wide shoulders and bare, freckled, arms. She rests it as his face, pink lips, sharp jaw and piercing blue eyes. The baldness fits his angular features.

“Not right now.”

Nothing that’s for sale at the bar, that is. He’s probably ten or more years younger than her, anyway. Not that that mattered to Halier, so why should it for her? She deliberately picks the cherry from her drink and sucks it off the stem, and pushes thoughts of her ex-husband out of her mind.

The bartender swallows, and licks his lips. Nodding, he turns back to the palm covered bar, weaving his way between the beach chairs and resort guests. His back is not a bad look either.

Iwyn sighs. He’s probably used to plenty of attention, all while trying to do his job. She doesn’t, maybe, particularly care at this point. She’s here to be selfish, as completely selfish as one can be on a solo vacation to one of Arlathan’s most expensive resorts, funded entirely by only a fraction of her divorce settlement.

Later, after finishing her drink and swim in the crystal clear ocean, Iwyn looks around to order another drink. The yellow-haired girl is still not here, nor is anyone else. The bartender is at the bar still, shaking up a drink. She walks over, bathing suit still wet.

“Nice swim?” he asks, when she leans on the bar.

Nice arms, she almost replies. They are. He’s working on what looks like a long list of drinks.

“Yeah. The water is great.”

“I hope you are enjoying your vacation, ma’am.” Very professional. “Anything I can get you?” His voice drops, and the last bit doesn’t sound professional at all.

“I’ll take an Antivan Sunrise, please.”

“It will be a moment. I have to deliver these first.” He inclines his head towards a large group of women. Bachelorette party, probably. “Then I’m all yours.”

“Didn’t you have some help earlier?” She can’t believe a place like this would leave him alone out here.

“Oh Sera? She’s off to… something, a pop-up concert she couldn’t miss. Don’t tell anyone, I’m covering a bit for her.” He looks around nervously, and ducks his head, realizing he probably shouldn’t have told her. Iwyn shrugs. She’s no reason to report him or his co-worker to the management.

“Don’t worry. It’s not really a bother to come ask you for my drinks.”

He flashes her a quick grin, and picks up the tray. Her eyes follow him, all the way to the partying girls.

“I’m Solas,” he says, when his back. He grabs a clean tumblr and start on her drink.

“Iwyn. Nice to meet you Solas.”

“Here on your own, Iwyn?”

His eyes dart to her hands resting on the bar. The pale line on her ring finger is still there, despite two days in the sun. One thing was finding Halier in their bed with his other woman, but once he started blaming Iwyn for not being a proper wife and not allowing him to lead the household, she’d quietly packed all her belongings. Later, she sent him the ring in the mail without a note.

“Yes,” she tells Solas, and she doesn’t elaborate. He can think what he wants.

He pushes the completed drink into her hand, brushing against it with his own.

“Anything else?”

She smiles a little, and says nothing.

Solas gets busy, balancing drink mixing and clean up and taking orders. He’s remarkable fast, and seemingly completely disorganized, but somehow he emerges from the chaos with perfect drinks for everyone. At some point his co-worker, Sera, comes back, sliding right in with a quick I owe you one. Solas rolls his eyes, and as they get busier, Iwyn watches them bicker and work the bar. Eventually, she returns to her chair and her book.

She’s getting caught up in Dead in Denerim, the latest by Varric Tethras, when a glass, and a napkin, is plunked down on her table.

“Compliments of baldy-face.” Sera grins, and waggles her eyebrows excessively.

The napkin is folded in half, and something is written inside.

“Thank you,” Iwyn says.

Sera doesn’t leave. After a moment, she rolls her eyes. “You’re all bad with cloak and dagger and shit. Read it.”

Iwyn complies.

I’m off at 8:00pm. I would enjoy meeting you for dinner. I can recommend a local restaurant.

Below is an address and a phone number.

“It’s good.” Sera is leaning across her, reading along with her. “And he likes you or something.”

“Is he going to kill me and dump me in a ditch?”

“Solas? No, he’s harmless. Annoying, but harmless.”

“Tell him I’ll meet him there at eight thirty.”

The restaurant is cozy, tucked away on a side street away from the touristy boulevards. Iwyn feels a little overdressed in her cocktail dress, but doesn’t regret it when Solas looks at her with clear appreciation.

“You look beautiful,” he says, sliding out her chair.

“Thank you. You look very nice yourself.”

She admits her flirting is a little rusty.

The dinner and the food are very nice, and her flirting does seem to get a little better as the evening goes on. Or perhaps Solas is just very easy to talk to. She learns he’s newly graduated with a degree in art history, part time bartending while applying for research and teaching jobs. He spends his mornings visiting and sketching ancient Elven ruins, of which there is many in the area. Iwyn admits that while she considered one of the guided tours, she didn’t sign up yet.

“I’ll take you. Those tours are too superficial at any rate. I doubt they properly convey the newest research, or any sort of nuance. Everyone just wants their pretty pictures so they can say they didn’t spend their entire vacation on a beach.”

“Not that there is anything wrong with that,” he amends, a little heat rising in his cheeks.

“I get it. I don’t like those groups either. I’d love to go with you.”

They haven’t defined this dinner – a date? Getting to know each other? But she takes a chance and reaches across the table, placing her hand on his.

“I’d be very happy to show you.” He doesn’t pull back is hand, and slides his thumb across hand. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Such as?”

She has no more time for guys who can’t handle being told what to do. He can take it or leave it. Her heart is hammering in her chest.

“I want your head between my legs.”

Solas chuckles, and leans forward, across the table.

“I’m afraid I’d like to keep my good relationship with the restaurant’s owner, but we can go somewhere else.”

A sharp bolt of arousal hits at the thought of him underneath the table, right here, but she agrees. She doesn’t want to be arrested for indecency.

“My room?”

Solas nods, and they quickly wrap up payment and head outside. As soon as they exit, Solas reaches for her, and they meet in a kiss. She opens her mouth and pulls him closer, and he pulls her against his thigh. Fuck. They need to get back, now. She breaks the kiss, and pulls out her phone.

“I’ll get a hylla. Unless you drove here?”

“Yes, please. I walked.”

There’s a driver only two minutes away, but by the time he arrives she’s already managed to undo a button on Solas shirt. The driver doesn’t say much, and instead puts on some soft Antivan mood music. She’ll have to remember to tip him well. Iwyn spends the short drive inching her hand up Solas thigh, teasing him. Not too much, but enough that he bites his lips holding back a groan. It’s a good look on him.

They make it to her room without tearing off each other’s clothes, only stopping twice kissing, touching, in the almost empty corridors of the hotel. Iwyn fumbles with the card key, flipping it 180 degrees so it’s finally in correct, and they stumble kissing into the room, kicking the door shut behind them.

Solas does a double take as he takes in her suite, and she takes the opportunity to unbutton his shirt and shrug it off his shoulders. He’s muscled and sensitive when she flicks her thumbs across his nipples.

“Bedroom,” she says, pulling him past the sofa arrangements and through the second doorway.

Solas pressed into her, and lifts her up, kissing her face, her neck. He puts her down on the bed, and stands between her legs.

“I believe there was something you wanted, Iwyn?” He rubs his thumbs up her thighs, pushing up the fabric of her dress. “May I?”

She leans forward, and opens the button of his shorts.

“Undress first.”

He quickly steps out of the shorts and boxers, leaving him naked before her. His cock his hard and large and pretty. She almost wants to flip them and suck as much of it as she can down, but she doesn’t. She wants him to do as she asked. She wants to be selfish, and she wants to be in charge.

Solas smirks, and then he sinks to his knees before her. He kisses up her legs, first one, then the other. He pushes her dress out of the way. She lifts her hips and pulls her panties off, then hooking one leg over his shoulder. His eyes flick to her, blue turned dark with arousal.

He lowers his face to her sex, and kisses her feather light. She bucks and moans, and she wants more. He goes slow still, licking, opening her up with his tongue, circling her clit. Iwyn reaches for him, and caress his ear, causing him to moan in turn. He’s licking, sucking, then licking again. Her hand moves to his head, the stubble of his scalp pricking her. He pulls back a little, kissing her thigh.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles against her skin. “You can use your hand.”

A fresh surge of arousal hits her, and he sucks her again, and this time she pulls his head closer, using her hand to press him into her. They both moan. She moves a little frantic, faster, grinding herself against his face. Solas does not pull back, he lets her do as she wants, still licking, sucking. Fast, she comes, waves cresting over her. She lets go and falls back, Solas’ hands under her ass holding her in place.

“Come here,” she says, a little weakly, after a moment.

Solas crawls up next to her. His cock is hard and leaking, and she reaches for it, pumping. He gasps wonderfully. She let him go and reaches for her zipper. Solas helps, and slides the dress off her. They fall back on the bed, and now they explore each other’s bodies, hands roaming and touching. She keeps returning to his cock, pumping slowly, and faster and firmer, and then letting go. Every time he moans louder, more desperate.

“Iwyn. I need, please – ”

She kisses him.

“Fuck me,” she says.

“Condom?”

“Um, yes, hm, I think there’s one in the drawer. They have everything here.”

He laughs at that, opens the bedside drawer and pulls out the foil package. He tears it open and rolls the condom on, all while her hands touch wherever she can reach. Once on, he hovers over her and slides into her.

He feels amazing inside of her, filling up. He groans and moves, slowly going deeper, finding the right angle. She meets him with every stroke, and soon they move faster, clinging to each other. His back muscles move beneath her arms as she wraps herself around him.

“Iwyn, I – “

“Yes, more!”

They tumble together, fast and hard and good. Solas closes his eyes and loses his rhythm, and she clamps down around him as she comes.

After, they lay entangled on the bed, simply touching each other gently and without purpose. Solas kisses her carefully.

“Anything else?”

He probably means more sex, or else she should send him on his way and maybe agree to meet in the morning. This is how a vacation fling works, right? She isn’t sure, and it isn’t really she wants.

“Stay.”

She’ll be selfish once more.

“I will,” he says and kisses her again.

#Solavellan #dragon age #solavellan fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #modern au #Iwyn x Solas #AU_gust_2021 #writing about Iwyn #ahh this was fun #also for Iwyn #;)#viking writes #published 8/3/2021

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atlantis-scribe · 3 years

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AU-gust 2021 ( Day 28 )

Werewolf

(in which Rodney is the town’s expert when it comes to all things preternatural & John is the local enigma with whom he’s formed a special bond)

The sound of Ronon cocking his shotgun snaps Rodney back to the present.

“RONON, NO!”

He runs, faster than he’s ever moved probably his entire life, and knocks Ronon’s aim. The tackle barely jostles the bigger man, but at least the only sound Rodney hears is the rattling of his heart against his ribcage.

“Oh god. Oh god.”

“McKay!” Ronon whirls to face him, weapon mercifully pointed at the ground. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

“Me? What were you doing!” It’s hard to yell back when Ronon’s towering over your sprawled form, but Rodney will be damned if doesn’t try his best all the same. “That’s Sheppard!”

As though summoned by the name, the wolf that ran towards the trees a moment ago steps out of the shadows. Rodney breaks eye contact with Ronon, somehow compelled by the presence he can still feel thrumming under his skin.

Beside him, Ronon growls. “Not anymore.”

The wolf is black as sin, only visible thanks to the brilliant moon above them. It’s the same wolf Rodney’s been studying these past few years. The one that shows up every month, without fail, by the shore outside Rodney’s bedroom window.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Rodney looks at the familiar, green-gold eyes, and knows Ronon is wrong. “Of course, it’s him.”

Before Ronon can think to stop him, Rodney sits up and pushes himself off the ground.

He takes a deep breath and moves closer.

“McKay, get back here!”

Rodney ignores Ronon and keeps on walking. He walks past the other wolf, the white one with red eyes that tried to attack him. Dead beasts can’t hurt anyone, after all.

“It’s okay,” Rodney whispers, hands raised in front of him. “It’s okay, it’s me. It’s just me. Just Rodney.”

The black wolf doesn’t run away, but it doesn’t step any closer, either.

“I know who you are,” he continues. “I’m sorry it took me a while, but I know now. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Something in the air changes, and like a flickering candlelight, Rodney’s savior shivers.

One step, two, and the wolf is crossing the distance between them.

Rodney grabs unto its neck and buries his face against warm, still-unruly fur.

“Hi, John.”

#stargate atlantis #rodney mckay #john sheppard #ronon dex #mcshep #my fic #fic: AU gust #AU_gust #AU_gust_2021 #my post

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cowandcalf · 2 years

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The Long Journey Home

AU_gust 21 writing challenge - Alternative Universe Dystopia

Humanity had feared this day. The ending had always been a myth and parents scared their children with the somber tale. No one ever believed it would actually happen, but Mother Earth had started the process of shedding her skin to save herself. Doom was near. The sun burnt hotter than ever. Only a handful remembered the old wisdom, passed on from generation to generation. The ones who knew got hunted for their knowledge.

Two souls bound to each other, meant to be together, waiting to meet again, to love again no matter the universe they were in. Love knew no limit when feelings were the most precious currency on earth. Time was of the essence.

Keep reading on AO3

#h50 #mcdanno #fic rec #mcdanno fic rec #cowandcalf writes #au_gust_2021 #writing challenge #prompt dystopia #my first dystopia fic #self rec #the guys own my soul #last one shot before the big event of nanowrimo

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redinkofshame · 3 years

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Ancient Gods

So as @thevikingwoman pointed out, #1 on the AU list is kinda hilarious from a Solavellan perspective. I did it anyway, though.

I have a story that I’m sure I’ll never write where Corypheus dies opening the orb just like Solas planned (the dragon is close enough to get caught in the blast), and thus he is able to come into power at the very beginning of Inquisition (i.e. before he’s learned that They’re Real People). This would be a dark!Solas AU.

669 words, SWF

For @augustwritingchallenge

Read on AO3

The Dread Wolf Rises

Keria burst in the doors. “What’s going on here?” she demanded. As both a Dalish elf and a mage she had planned to observe the Conclave completely unnoticed but she couldn’t ignore the call for help, or the odd thrum of magic coming from where it didn’t belong. She saw a man — an abomination? — approach what appeared to be a high-ranking Chantry member magically suspended in the air by… Grey Wardens?

She didn’t have time to take it in before the elderly Mother took advantage of the distraction of Keria’s appearance to knock a swirling orb from the abomination’s hand. She lunged for it without thinking.

A mistake.

As she grabbed it an intense pain burned her from inside, ripping her mana out so violently that her muscles seized up, her hand clenched so tight she couldn’t drop the fucking thing.

A deep angry, “Noo!” was the last thing she heard before her world exploded. Her body was flung into the air, coming to an abrupt stop on ground that still shook beneath her back. Thunder echoed in her skull.

The orb slipped out of her limp fingers and rolled away. Keria didn’t move.

She couldn’t say how long had passed as she laid there, wondering if she would die. The thunder ebbed to a high pitched ring deep in her ears. It hurt to draw breath, hurt to even think about moving. Dying would be easier, honestly.

But then the stillness was broken by the wind stirring her hair. She finally opened her eyes as dust started to pick up around her. Above her she saw only sky, gray clouds where there should have been one of those stone ceilings shems were so crazy about. Where was she?

Keria rolled over slowly, taking in the wasteland around her. Barren rock interspersed with twisted corpses and fire and… broken walls.

Gods.

The broken walls of the building she’d been in. She whipped her head around — the whole damn mountainside was gone.

The wind was getting stronger, tearing at her from every direction now, howling like a pack of wolves.

Exactly like a pack of wolves.

The thought hit her just as she looked up to see a figure descend slowly from the sky, arms spread casually. Boots hit the ground lightly and the wind stilled, and Keria instinctively scrambled away, finding cover behind some shattered stones. She could barely hear the steady steps over the thudding of her heart.

They were coming towards her. They sounded maybe 10 paces from her when they stopped. She held her breath.

Then she felt a strum of magic pulse up from her hand. Fuck! The orb!

She frantically tried to decide if she should reveal herself in an attempt to recover it when the decision was made for her; a crackling green energy, blindingly bright, burst from the other side of her hiding spot and her palm simultaneously, and she cried out in pain, clutching her arm to her chest.

A heartbeat passed, and the pain stopped. A shape loomed over her shelter, blocking out the swirling gray sky above; a man’s shadow.

No — not a man. Definitely not.

Keria had never been a pious woman. She prayed only by rote and performed religious rituals because they made her feel closer to her People and her history, not because she believed the gods gave a damn about them.

And yet she knew somehow — perhaps in some way seeded deep within by an evolutionary need to survive — that this was not a man. This was a him.

The Dread Wolf.

He was watching her with steely eyes in a face sharp and predatory. He held one arm raised to the side, the artifact spinning and hovering above his palm, the green light bouncing off of golden armor. As she stared, wide-eyed, he curled his finger slightly. The orb shone in response, as did her her hand, painlessly this time.

He tilted his head to the side and grinned, flashing sharp canine teeth. “Fascinating.”

#solavellan #AU_gust #AU_gust_2021 #he uses her mark and her worship of him to further his plans #gradually she figures out that he really is just a man under it all but by then she's following him because she believes in his vision #she becomes his second in command #they fall in love; obviously #then she discovers the full extent of his plans and betrays him #obviously #🙃#solas #keria lavellan

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slashyrogue · 3 years

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AU-gust Day 1: Ancient Gods

When the God of Death moves in next door a few things happen:

All of the trees and plants in the neighborhood start to die.

His dogs start being scared to go outside.

And Will starts to have erotic dreams about him.

Will’s only seen the man once when he moved in, and the look they shared really didn’t scream erotic. It was more “if you bother me I’ll kill you” so he hasn’t.

But the dreams start becoming more frequent as the weeks go by and neighbor after neighbor moves out because “they’re not gonna live like this.”

How Wolf Trap got assigned the God of Death of all the ancients they could’ve been given seems more like a punishment than a gift.

The ancients, all twelve of them, have only announced themselves a few months ago and everytime one settles the people cheer.

It’s a gift.

Who wouldn’t want to be that close to greatness?

Will only hopes his new neighbor can’t see his dreams. He really doesn’t want to be smited for thinking he’d even been anywhere near worthy of a God.

It’s months later and five neighbors gone when Will realizes just why he’s having the dreams. A crash wakes him out of one of them, and the dogs start barking like crazy as he curses realizing he left his rifle by the back door.

He gets up slow and shushes the dogs as he walks toward the noise only to find someone rummaging through his kitchen drawers.

Will steps forward and the floor creaks making the assailant turn. “Hey, hey—”

The man is wearing a mask as he rushes up to Will brandishing a knife with the obvious intent to stab him. But something, or rather, someone stops him. Will stares with wide eyes as The God of Death in all his perfect suited glory, burns someone to death in his kitchen.

He can’t look away as the man screams and dissolves into nothing before being transported to what Will assumes is Hell.

Will is frozen as his new neighbor turns.

“Are you alright?”

“I…”

“I apologize for the intrusion. I’ve been waiting for this night, you see. It’s been…difficult to wait so I may have sent some residual thoughts your way.”

Will blinks.

“The dreams were yours?”

“I apologize.”

“You didn’t even ask my name!”

He frowns. “Because I already knew it.”

“You…you killed every plant in the neighborhood and my dogs…”

“I’m afraid that was built up frustration. I’m normally quite good at keeping my powers in check.”

Will shakes his head. “Just…just go.”

“But…”

“And please stop sending me sex dreams.”

“I…I was hoping to introduce myself.”

“God of Death,” Will mumbles. “I know.”

“That is not my given name.”

“I don’t—”

“Hannibal.”

Will’s whole body feels the name and he stumbles back shaking his head. “No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not doing this.”

“Will…”

“I don’t know why you’ve decided to fixate on me Mister, but I’m saying no right now. I’m not interested.”

The God of Death, AKA Hannibal, reaches out and touches Will’s arm. “I’m afraid I won’t be deterred. You see the reason I came here is you. You’re my soulmate. I was not allowed to interact until our colliding moment and now that I’ve been allowed, I won’t take no for an answer.”

Will hisses, wrenching his arm away, and pushes him back hard. “No means no, jackass. I’m sorry that you came all this way but I’m NEVER going to be your ANYTHING.”

Hannibal frowns and steps away, his eyes glowing red.

“I will leave you for now, Will. But I’ve only just begun.”

He pops out of the kitchen just as fast as he popped in and Will nearly collapses when he’s gone.

“What the fuck?”

The God of Death just said they were soulmates, like something out of a goddamn fairytale.

Will covers his face and starts to groan.

It’s just his luck that he learns some ancient secret about the ancients and it’s the very worst thing that could’ve ever happened to him.

What was he gonna do?

Also on ao3 here: AU-gust Writing Challenge 2021

#hannigram au #my ao3 #au_gust_2021 #01

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augustwritingchallenge · 3 years

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Day 2 is already here! What comes to your mind with this prompt, there are so many locations and possibilities!

#au_gust #au_gust_2021

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mari-onberry · 3 years

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"Should I introduce you to my mom?" Luz asked Amity, half-excited.

"Maybe tomorrow." Amity fidgeted, obviously and rightfully nervous about the question.

"You know she's gonna love you, right?" Luz prodded, knowing her mom well.

"I know, it's just--" her voice trailed off as Luz finished her sentence for her.

"I know. Picnic, then, or I can show you more around town? Around Earth, I guess."

Amity nodded: that sounded fun and thoroughly relaxing, a good precursor to meeting Luz's mom. They prepare for it, too.

Luz knew just the spot, but the portal had landed them a couple miles away.

They sat and ate, Amity taking in the new sights and tastes.

“So? How do you like it here?”

"Luz, this place is scary, and weird, and,"

Luz agreed with her. "It's hard to get used to a whole new world, huh?"

"And magical."

That confused Luz. "Magical? Amity, you know there's no magic here."

Amity shook her head. "There has to be some magic. You were born here." Amity's eyes got wide and her face turned red as she realized how that sounded. She hadn't really meant it to sound like that.

Luz squealed. "Amity!" She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend. "How are you so awkward and romantic at the same time?"

"I know, I'm sorry," Amity apologized.

"I love that about you," Luz said, her face now turning red as well, and proving that they were both equally awkward, Luz had just gotten more used to hiding it. "I mean, well, love is such a strong word, and I don't not mean it, but--"

“I love you, too, Luz. And I love Earth.” She stared at the sky, watching the non-toxic clouds drift slowly, and listened to the birds chirp. “I love it because you’re here.”

Day 10 for @augustwritingchallenge: Utopia

read on ao3

#AU_gust_2021 #lumity #toh #the owl house #drabble #triple drabble #moodboard #mari writes #mine

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linaxart · 3 years

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AU-gust - Day 2: Exotic vacation - @augustwritingchallenge

Hot Joe summer ☀️

don't repost. click to enlarge. reblogs appreciated 💕

[ID: a digital fanart framed like a Polaroid that reads "Maldivas '95". The photo is a bust drawing of Joe from The Old Guard with his head cocked to the side, long box braids in a half top-knot and full beard. He's sipping from a green drink with an umbrella through a straw and wearing heart-shaped pink sunglasses. He has a floral red and white shirt open, leaving a peek of chest visible. The background is a beach and the top corners have big green leaves to help frame. The colours are warm. End ID.]

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turtletotem · 3 years

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She-Ra: First Class

For AU-gust Day #15, "Crossover," I combined my two greatest loves: She-Ra and X-Men First Class.

Catra loathes being in water, but it's more than worth it to take out Hordak—the man who killed the parents she can no longer remember, and raised her to be his perfect animal-weapon. She climbs aboard his ship, a silent shadow among shadows, the knife in her hand, and her heart is racing, she's so close—

She didn't think Shadow Weaver would be there.

She likes to think she wouldn't have hesitated, that even the sight of the woman who raised her, who was her semi-protector and only source of affection (however twisted) in Hordak's facility wouldn't have stopped her. But it doesn't matter. Shadow Weaver is proof that regardless of what Hordak says, mutant powers are no gift from God. No god could be cruel enough to let that woman be born a telepath.

So the next thing Catra knows, she's been seized by the hot crackling pain of Shadow Weaver's power, and forced to throw herself overboard.

But she's come too far, spent too long searching for Hordak to let him get away now. She digs her claws into the side of the boat, hoping desperately that Shadow Weaver won't sense her presence, determined to hang on until she has another chance.

And it might have worked, if Hordak's ship hadn't turned out to be a freaking submarine, diving less to escape her than the U.S. Coast Guard cutter that's inexplicably appeared to demand its surrender.

Even then she can't let go. She can't do it, not even when a hauntingly familiar voice in her head screams for her to let go or she'll drown. She probably will drown, which is the last death she would have chosen, but it's better than just letting Hordak and Shadow Weaver get away again.

Then arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her claws loose from the side of the ship-turned-sub, and she hears the voice again. This time it's a lot harder to convince herself it's a hallucination.

Catra, it's me. I know how much you hate them, but you have to let go or you're going to die! Please, Catra!

Stunned, Catra lets herself be pulled to the surface, where she shoves her rescuer off of her as quick and hard as she can.

Only when she's done coughing up seawater and raking it out of her eyes does she get a good look at the telepath who has just saved her life. Blonde hair plastered down with water, blue eyes brilliant in the searchlights from the cutter she must have jumped from. Even like this, panting and treading water and not at all welcome, she's as beautiful as Catra remembers.

"We're over here!" Adora shouts to the cutter, waving her arm. She's got her other hand gripped tight around Catra's arm; Catra snatches it away.

"What are you doing here?" Catra demands, her voice much weaker and raspier than she would have liked.

Adora turns back to her, smiling, overjoyed, cupping Catra's cheeks. "I promised I would come back for you," she says. "And here I am. Finally, finally I found you!"

But you didn't, you didn't, you never came back, I finally escaped on my own once I realized you were never coming back—None of the words make it out of her throat, blocked by the very force of the fury behind them.

"On the ship up there, with the pink hair, that's my sister," Adora is babbling, bobbing up and down in the waves, "Glimmer, her family took me in, she's a teleporter, and next to her is Bow, he's the CIA agent that came to ask me about mutants—I have so much to tell you, Catra, so much has happened! I was so afraid I would never see you again!"

I told myself you were dead, Catra thinks. I told myself that was the only explanation for why you hadn't kept your promise. But no, you were out there, alive, being taken in by a family while I was tortured in a lab.

She expects Adora to react to the thoughts, but she doesn't. Has she finally learned to shield herself from other people, once Shadow Weaver wasn't there to break down her barriers over and over? She's always been absolutely hopeless at understanding and communicating with people without her telepathy.

Which means, Catra thinks as the cutter lowers flotation rings and rope ladders for them, that maybe she can lie to Adora now. She can use her faithless old friend and her CIA resources to find Hordak and Shadow Weaver again, and kill them, and finally be free. And then get revenge on Adora herself for her broken promise, and Adora won't see it coming, won't feel the crackling fire of hatred that is all Catra has inside her now. Now that she's grown up into exactly the monster Hordak wanted.

She tells herself this plan is the only reason she lets Adora hug her, wrapping a blanket around the both of them on the deck of the cutter, and that her face is only wet from the ocean.

#spop #catradora #she ra #my fic #au_gust_2021 #au_gust

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