#Instead I feel vaguely sad and mostly numb but I end up being able to gloss over that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

siennahrobek · 3 years ago

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Future Past

11 BBY

Luke didn’t remember a lot of specific events after his aunt and uncle were killed. Ben once told him that it had taken him near an entire week just for him to start speaking again. Anything he did recall, was mostly feelings.

Later, Luke would dream about it. Between the vague memories, the feelings and the dreams, he could piece together what had happened. It had made him rather depressed for quite some time, upon realizing and thinking about it, but Ben had made it into a lesson about the Force and how it makes up everything and they should celebrate the time that they did have, the bonds they shared. They were in everything now; all around them and in Luke’s memories. Luke had found comfort in that.

He had dreamed about being in his room, playing blissfully with his hand made wooden ships while his guardians made dinner and worked down the hall. There had been nothing specifically special about that day. It was warm and sunny; Uncle Owen had just come in from working on the farm to eat. Luke had played, blissfully unaware.

It had all been very unexpected and abrupt.

There had been no screams, nothing to warn Luke what was coming. Just a pounding on the door which resulted in the horrible rip that tore it off its hinges, a series of blaster shots and a shout of “NO!” that was followed by a horrible gurgle that died in the throat.

It was fast.

And it had caught Luke’s attention as his curiosity got the best of him, despite the painfearpanic that had been momentarily filling his senses. After that moment there had been nothing. Just nothing. He pushed himself up off the ground to see what was going on, only able to peek through the crack between the door and the wall. It wasn’t much, but he had caught the sight of some shiny white plastoid armor and blood pooling over the carpet in the other room – oh was Aunt Beru going to be so upset –

Luke’s tangent trail of thoughts had screeched to a halt as his eyes landed on a body that was sprawled over the floor, skin already paled and eyes glazed over, glossy and lifeless. An arm reached out towards his room; fingers nearly pointed.

It was Aunt Beru.

Luke wanted to reach back.

There was a sharp hiss, and a brilliant blue light illuminated the space. As shouts and screams filled the air this time, all Luke felt was painpainpain and no thoughts accompanied it, which was extremely odd. Even when his guardians got hurt – for whatever reason – there had always been other feelings accompanying that pain. He threw himself to the other side of the room, hiding in the corner under a blanket.

The noises had died down by that time in the world but in his head, they continued to echo.

Blamblamblam. Swishshrrr. Screamscreamscream

He ended up on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest as tightly as he could get them and his hands covering his ears, as if that would stop the sounds in his mind with his eyes squished closed as if that would stop anything.

“Stop, please. Stop. Stop. Stop.”

Concernfearanxiety. Wherewherewhere?

Those were new ones.

“Luke,” a voice greeted, softly, quietly. Luke knew that voice, he knew it like his own hand, but his mind could not place it. He has always known that voice.

Peacecalmsafe

Peacecalmsafe.

“I can’t feel Uncle Owen,” Luke cried in a whimper. “I can’t feel Aunt Beru.”

“I know, Luke,” the voice whispered, smooth and kind and sorrowful. Blindly, Luke reached out both physically and within himself for the voice.

Peacecalmsafe.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

The voice found him first and quickly wrapped him in a set of arms, bundling him up in a cloak? Blanket? Something both a bit soft and a bit scratchy but warm and well used. It ached of love and loneliness and grief. He still cried.

“We are going to leave, Luke,” the voice assured, subdued. Luke was moving then, tucked in someone’s embrace and under the fabric. “I need you to do something for me. I need you to stay under my robe and do not open your eyes. Can you do that?”

He wanted to look and he wasn’t sure why, but he knew that voice and he knew better than to not listen to it – the presence. He knew that presence. The one that hummed lullabies when he was young and in his dreams. The only thing he vaguely even could recall from his earliest year.

Luke nodded.

The voice moved and Luke reached out again. “My ship,” he whined.

“I have your ship, Luke,” the voice replied, kindly. There was a lot more moving and more sounds that Luke tried to ignore but Luke finally, eventually, got a hold of his little wooden ship. He cradled it tightly, rougher edges poking into him. It took a moment for him to understand the feeling. The carved toys he found felt like something. Something Luke knew – had always known. It felt of horrible grief and sadness, only rivalled by such warmth and undying love. Luke could barely fathom.

But he understood.

His carved toys and the voice felt the same.

Luke remembered mostly more feelings than real, tangible memories for some time after that. Ben was the same of the voice and he wasn’t just a voice or just a feeling. He was a person. A person Luke had often asked Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru about for years. He knew he existed, and he wanted him. It was that feeling he knew since forever and he had wanted that feeling bad. Luke remembered the pity from Aunt Beru and the near disgust and fury from Uncle Owen, which always left a little hurting throb in his mind. Luke had stopped asking for a while but kept wishing for him. The boy knew that presence, that person, was like Luke. And Luke loved him.

Ben was almost always soft and kind, but especially in that first couple of months after they left the homestead. Luke remembered burning and fire but little else. He remembered sitting in front of Ben on his Blurg, wrapped in his robe with bags and things jangling around as the animal had walked across the desert and into the city. He remembered the city, dusty and bustling and being kept wrapped up. They had been there for a bit and Ben often kept his eyes closed. There was little from that time, just a bit of a numb and sad feeling. Ben felt of grief too; Luke had never felt such sadness before. It was enough to choke on, but Ben kept it away, later he found out they were called shields, so Ben’s grief wouldn’t leak into Luke’s.

Luke wished he could take Ben’s sadness away.

Sometimes, even in the present, Luke would look at Ben and knew he wished the same.

Hyperspace was a horrible feeling the first time. It hadn’t been really his first time, as Luke would learn later, but it was the first Luke could really remember, but the chillness in his bones felt familiar. The child hadn’t left the confines of Ben’s robe, even though the cockpit seat wasn’t exactly big enough for both of them. The older man had just whispered to him, running his hands through Luke’s hair and projecting as many positive feelings as he could to get Luke through this. The first time was pretty bad but afterwards, he could deal with hyperspace a little better. It took some work.

It had taken weeks for him to push down the cold. They had been travelling constantly, with varying stops in between to gather their bearings and stock up on supplies. Luke, at the time, hadn’t known where they were going or even how they got the money or the ship.

Hyperspace hadn’t gotten any warmer.

Later, Luke would know that it would have been a lot worse if it wasn’t for Ben’s shields and in time, he would learn to make his own so that the cold didn’t bother him so much anymore. And since he had more control over his emotions than the first time, that had helped as well. He just wasn’t used to this type of cold. Nights on Tatooine had been brutal with the chill but that was always just skin deep. This cold was something else. It was the kind of cold that buried into your bones and burrowed deep into your chest. The kind of cold no blanket or heater could ever fix, despite how much Luke tried.

“Are you still quite cold?” Ben asked tenderly, as Luke tried to move around their tiny ship, wrapped tightly in several blankets. There wasn’t much room on the ship, it was probably made more for one, but Ben and Luke made do. It helped with getting past unwanted visitors.

“Y-y-es-s-s,” Luke chattered.

“Come with me, I will get you some tea.”

Luke didn’t know how tea could help, even when a multitude of blankets and a blasting heater didn’t but the boy followed anyways. Ben usually knew what he was talking about.

He had to do something of a toddle to get to the tiny kitchenette at the other end of the ship, since his balance was still unused to travelling in space. A closed pot of some kind was on the burner and heating. Luke watched with a sort of hypnotized rapt attention as Ben slowly prepared the drink in a small glass. He quietly set two cups down in front of him on their makeshift table near where Luke had sat, bundled up.

Ben set his own down on the other side and took a seat. Luke watched as he took a sip and then, after the boy had situated himself, he mimicked the older man near perfectly, taking his own sip.

It was very warm. He had only taken a bit but that he had drank laid over the cold in his bones, washing over the hurt in his chest. Luke didn’t really have the right words to describe it.

He licked his lips and stared at the cup in wonder. What came out of his mouth had not been what he had intended. “Its… a little bitter,” he admitted.

Luke felt something from Ben, but he wasn’t sure what it was, as it had passed much too quickly for him to identify.

“I think I may have a bit of sweetener,” Ben hummed. Luke didn’t watch him rummage through their little belongings but instead stared at the tea, trying to figure out what he was missing.

Ben gave him a packet. Luke barely put any in, it probably wouldn’t have even changed the taste, but he didn’t want to taint the warm feeling. When he took another sip, slightly more this time, he reached and reached and reached.

Warmth bloomed in his chest, tingling down all the way to his toes.

“Oh,” Luke whispered. He knew that feeling, that was the first feeling. The first thing he could grasp and remember. “So that is what that is,” his voice was nearly inaudible.

From Ben, he felt a wave of pleasedcontentjoyrelief and Luke smiled up at him, brightly.

“I like this!”

Ben’s smile was soft and genuine. Luke’s just grew.

“I will endeavor to get my hands on others of more quality, if you would like.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “There are more???”

Did they taste of the deep feelings and warmth that this one did?

Ben nodded.

“Yes please!” Luke bobbed his head with a bout of enthusiasm. “Are there many?”

“Quite,” Ben replied. “I have not even tasted them all. They all taste different but have the same base.”

“I want to try them all!” Luke grinned.

Ben’s smile twisted into something sad and happy at the same time.

“Can I sit by you while I drink my tea?”

Ben nodded. “Of course, dear one. I’m sure we can make it fit.”

Luke abandoned his blankets and hopped from the seat. He had only taken two sips of the tea and he already felt better and warmer; he doubted he would need those while drinking this. Setting his tea next to Ben’s, Luke crawled up next to him and lifted his large cloak, tucking himself securely underneath it and into Ben’s side.

The older man watched in a mix of mild bewilderment and amusement as Luke settled under his arm and shifted as close as he could. Then Luke grasped his cup and took another, rather loud, slurp of his tea.

Ben chuckled, making Luke brighten. Ben didn’t laugh a lot. He was warming up and the child knew what was making the tea so warm and special. Something that smothered and chased the cold away.

It’s so warm and steeped in love.

Luke loves it.

10 BBY

One of Luke’s earliest, tangible memories about his time with Ben, at least, something exciting,was still a little fuzzy, as he wasn’t always paying attention to what was happening and, well, it was still early. They had a little ship that was good for sneaking out of places where they were not welcome – which was alive, as Luke found – and to avoid Imperials. Luke learned about the Empire early on and to keep away from it. Luke didn’t remember exactly where they were, but he knew they were running out of fuel – they couldn’t use the heater anymore – when they had come across a massive ship that was just floating in the middle of nowhere.

Ben had told him it was a droid ship. Luke had a hard time saying the other name, so he just called them droids. Luckily, they didn’t have any with them to offend. Ben told him that he used to fight them, back in a war. He wanted to ask so many questions about that because it was a war; old crazy hermit Ben Kenobi was a warrior. Months ago, that would have never been believable. Ben had been a wizard in the wastes, but Luke knew better now. Ben could fight and he was good at it. Luke hadn’t exactly been sure why they were there, going to look at this massive ship from the past war, but he had stayed on the ship while Ben went out in search of something.

Luke didn’t know what Ben was looking for when he came back but he certainly came back with something neither of them were expecting.

He hadn’t known exactly what it was, but it was big, and it barely fit on their ship. Luke didn’t like it much; they barely had enough room as it was!

“It is a stasis pod,” Ben explained, quietly, as if reading Luke’s mind. He liked that sometimes, when he didn’t have to try to put together words for Ben to understand what he wanted or meant. “People are put in there.”

“There is a person in there?” Luke yelped, jumping back.

Ben wiped some condensation off of the viewing glass. A face appeared, with darker skin than either of them and curly black hair cropped close to his head. Luke stared at him before sparing Ben a glance. Ben’s brows were deeply furrowed, and he looked rather worried.

“Can we get him out?”

“Not here,” Ben shook his head, his voice low and apprehensive. He leaked out paranoiafearworry. “It’s not safe. We will land and then let him out.”

Luke didn’t really understand, but Ben walked away towards the cockpit, so he didn’t get a chance to ask again. He just got up on his tip toes to look at their new, sleeping passenger, as the ship jumped back into hyperspace. The move to the nearest planet side wasn’t that long but Luke had spent a lot of his time watching the new person sleeping soundly in the pod. His curiosity was peaked, and he had so many questions!

Unfortunately, Luke’s excitement had a downfall as he seemed to forget to strap in as they left hyperspace and began to breach the atmosphere. Unable to keep his balance, Luke tripped and flew into the side of the pod and into the panel of buttons, pressing several.

“Kark,” Luke whispered, wide eyed. The pod shifted and let out a hiss, with condensation and fog being released from the inside. The viewing panel and door creaked as it opened up.

“What was that?” Ben called from the cockpit.

Luke frowned and glanced around. “Uhm…nothing?”

“That didn’t sound like nothing,” Ben muttered so low Luke could barely hear him. The shaking got worse as they made their way through the most difficult part of the atmosphere. It would smooth out soon, enough for Ben to land, but the body hadn’t awoken yet, although Luke could see him shift. He was quickly stirring. Luke just tried to keep him steady.

And, as of course, things only got worse.

“We have company!” Ben called again as he turned the ship sharply. Luke threw himself to the window to look outside; it was easy to move with the turn. It was hard to see anything, but he could make out a few ships and they were shooting at them. “Pirates,” Ben growled.

“What is happening?” a new voice muttered.

Luke turned around. The man inside had sat up, holding his head before looking around. Oh, oh, he was in so much trouble.

The man’s dark eyes met Luke’s bright blue ones. “Who are you? What is happening? Where am I?”

“SHHHH!” Luke practically screeched as he shoved his hand over the man’s mouth. The man just stared at him, completely shocked before carefully moving away from him the best he could.

“…Luke,” Ben’s voice drawled out his name making the boy wince. The man didn’t respond so quickly to cause any pain, but he caught sight of Ben when the man had shifted his head in an effort to look back at the child. The man’s eyes practically bulged.

“General Kenobi?” he echoed.

Something shuttered from Ben. Panicworryfearpanicpanicnonono. “Luke, get away, right now!” he barked.

He tried but the man in the pod hopped out of the casin. Or at least he tried. The man had practically fell out, not quite having his space legs. He scrambled to the cockpit where Ben tensed so much Luke feared he would fall apart into pieces.

“General!” the man called as he got closer.

“Kix,” Ben replied, warily.

Luke didn’t remember a lot after that. He hadn’t been strapped in and therefore had been tossed around the room of the ship a lot, causing several bruises and a couple of small gashes on his person by the time they had escaped the pirates and landed. The two adults had talked a while and Luke waited away from them. He felt a lot of their feelings, mostly the man’s – Kix – due to his lesser shields. They weren’t bad, Luke was just strong.

There was a lot of feelings.

Pain, concern, betrayal, disbelief, panic, heartbreak.

Just a few Luke could identify.

Eventually they had parted briefly, and Ben explained there were some things he had to do, and that Luke should stay in or right around the ship. He had left him with Kix and when the man came to introduce himself, he had seen Luke’s state. There wasn’t a lot that he could do; as nothing was serious, but Kix looked around the ship for any medical supplies and came back with a small kit. He cleaned the small wounds, and then brought out the band aids to cover them. They were colorful with cute little green twi’leks on them.

“He’s got cute band aids,” Kix chuckled. “Where did he get these?”

“They came with the ship,” Luke shrugged. Kix seemed to find that amusing. He tried to ask a little about the state of the galaxy, but Luke was young and didn’t have a lot of answers. All he knew was there was a lot of bad people and they had taken away his aunt and uncle.

It had been hours later when Kix asked out of the blue. “Are you a jedi?”

Luke didn’t have an answer for him.

Ben came back fairly quickly after that with a few supplies and some paperwork. Luke was around when they started to talk again but he wasn’t really listening, rather his interest being taken by the outside nature and curious small animals that dared to venture around the ship. There was some more heartbreak and sadness and grief coming from Kix as they talked. Luke heard a few things that caught his interest including new life, Organa, and rebellion, but they didn’t make a lot of sense to Luke himself.

By the end of the day, Kix was leaving with a small pack and a bunch of paperwork. As they said their goodbyes, Luke walked up to him and pressed one of Ben’s gifted hand carved ships into his hand. Kix stared at it and then the both of them, but few words were exchanged.

That was the last Luke had saw of him.

Ben and Luke left the planet quickly after that, knowing a few pirates were stilling hanging around. Once they had gotten safely into hyperspace, Ben had sat down in the area near Luke. It was quiet until Luke thought of a question.

“Kix asked me if I was a jedi,” Luke noted, pushing around one of the toys had made for him. It was a hand carved land vehicle, with a bunch of legs. Ben told him that he used them in the war. He helped Luke paint it partially gold. Ben frowned and looked at him, a bit surprised. “Ben, what is a jedi?”

His smile was nearly sadder than any Luke had seen from him. He almost didn’t want Ben to answer if it caused him so much pain. “I think it is best if I tell you about the Jedi when you are a bit older.”

“Are you a jedi?” Luke asked, fiddling with his toy and picking up another.

Ben hesitated but he spoke the truth. Luke could feel it. “I am.”

Luke didn’t look up. “Then I want to be one too.”

The chuckle that came from the older man was hoarse and with little humor. He was trying. “You don’t even know what they are.”

“I know you are one,” Luke started. He sounded so sure of himself, like he actually knew what he was talking about. His determination and persistence pressed into the Force. He kept going, his words flowing into one another with unexpected grace. “And I know you are strong and brave and kind. You help people even when they probably don’t deserve it. And you protect people and me, no matter what. You feel things differently, like me, but better. You are calm and gentle and resilient. You love like no one else. I want to be just like that,” Luke’s explanation sounded reasonable to him, and he could feel something, something from Ben but the older man just tightened his shield.

“Perhaps but perhaps not,” Ben replied, calmly but he couldn’t help as his voice cracked. “You can be all those things and not be a jedi.”

“Was my father a jedi too?”

That certainly got Ben’s attention. “Why would you ask that?”

Luke shrugged, still not quite looking at him, his eyes and hands attentive with his task, messing with some parts on one of the toys he was working on. Or, at least, what Ben suspected was a toy. It was hard to tell. “I just feel like he would be.”

“Your feelings do you credit, young Luke,” Ben admitted, hesitant and quiet. He didn’t seem to want to answer this, like it would be dangerous. “Your father was a jedi-,” Luke’s head snapped up as he gasped, eyes widening and his fingers clutching the parts. He had thought so but hearing it admitted out loud was completely different. “And he was one of my closest and dearest friends.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes,” Ben nodded. “Quite well.”

Luke’s eyes had never shone brighter.

Present Past

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know how to explain it. He’s in a coma.”

General Anakin Skywalker had been driven to a few meters from the bed where his former master lay, now hooked to a few tubes and an oxygen mask for good measure. There wasn’t that much wrong with him as far as Kix could tell, aside from a nasty gash on the back of his head – he had probably fallen onto some rocks – and perhaps a concussion but there was nothing else. Luke stayed close to the bed, practically in it himself, watching the other troops carefully and warily. He didn’t relax much, although one could tell at least some tension did release from his shoulders when Kix was the only one around. No one was certain why.

“A coma?” General Skywalker’s brow furrowed. “He didn’t look that bad when he was found, even though we didn’t get a very close look at him,” he added, shooting a pointed glance at Luke.

Kix shrugged helplessly. “I am not sure, sir. There is no real reason he shouldn’t wake up. The wound on his head isn’t terrible. My guess is that it might be...you know, Force things.”

Luke frowned, looking back at Obi-Wan. He seemed to consider this for a moment, as if taking it seriously. Apparently, he was. “I suppose that may be possible,” the boy murmured. “Perhaps he just needs some rest.”

“Rest?” Anakin grumbled, crossly.

“Perhaps we should call the Council; they might have some insights,” Ahsoka suggested as she bounced on the balls of her feet, linking her hands together. She seemed a bit proud of her answer, even though her master didn’t appear to think so.

“Or come up with some bold-faced lie,” Anakin’s lip curled, a bit cynically.

“We can at least call Commander Cody,” Rex added, his tone careful. It was hard to miss the way Luke perked at the sound of the name, despite trying to subdue the motion but it was hard not to notice. Everyone had. Or, at least, he was sure everyone had. It was hard to miss. “He would want to know and if nothing else, he can organize the fleet temporarily in General Kenobi’s absence.”

The grumble under Anakin’s breath was one no one could quite interpret but the Captain and Ahsoka soon pried him away, very well near dragging him out of the medical bay. Anakin caught Luke’s eyes right before he left. “I will be right back,” he promised, although it sounded more like a threat.

Kix just sighed.

Even after Anakin and the others had left, Kix kept moving and working around Obi-Wan, checking and rechecking the General’s vitals and signs, trying to figure out what may be wrong and how to fix it. Luke sat quietly just out of the way, content with just watching. Kix did not like the silence. His med bay was rarely this quiet. “So, what’s your name, kid?” he asked, shooting a glance at the blonde-haired teenager.

The boy opened his eyes and looked up at him, evenly. “Ah, Luke.”

“Last name?”

“Depends. Ben and I take a lot of last names.”

Kix had been briefed but just barely. A few of the troopers that had brought General Kenobi’s body in had given him a few facts but not nearly enough for him to know what was going on. He wished he knew more. “You’re safe here,” he assured the boy.

Luke shrugged, crossing his legs. “That remains to be seen.”

Had this child been raised by General Kenobi? He had some similar mannerisms. Then again, General Skywalker had also been raised by General Kenobi and the two couldn’t be more different. “Skywalker?” Kix questioned. His general did have a habit of freaking others out sometimes, as he tended to be forceful and passionate. A force to be reckoned with. “Don’t worry too much about him, he’s just worried about General Kenobi. Usually is, considering how much trouble the High General tends to get in. How do you know General Kenobi anyways?”

“Pretty sure we are time travelers.”

Kix stopped everything at once and spun around to stare at the new teenager. “Pardon?” he sputtered.

“Time travelers,” Luke repeated with a cavalier shrug. “Unless, like I mentioned, I’m hallucinating. But the time traveling seems to be what I think is going on currently. It makes just a bit more sense than hallucinating people I haven’t met ever. And I haven’t been born yet.”

Kix did not know what to do with that. He racked his brain for any response. He wasn’t particularly proud of what he came up with. “I heard you requested me by name.”

“We met, briefly. Or we do, in the future. When I was young,” Luke shrugged again, setting his hands on his crossed knees. “I would have preferred the 212th but Ben’s ship wasn’t available, and I didn’t know how bad his wound was, so I had to settle. Not that you aren’t a great medic.”

The medic chuckled but he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. This was just so entirely bizarre, even with General Skywalker and General Kenobi in the middle of it. And they were in the middle of nearly all the bizarre happenings. “Thanks,” he replied, a bit dryly. He went back to work, figuring it would get more uncomfortable if he just stood and stared. “Why do you prefer the 212th?”

There didn’t seem to be an easy or sure answer to that, as Luke just shifted, a bit uncomfortably. “It’s a long story,” he confessed after a moment. “I don’t know a lot of it. It would probably be better for Ben to explain the future.”

As if he didn’t have a bad feeling already, Kix felt something in his stomach flip over. That did not sound good on multiple different levels. He changed the subject, perhaps he could get some different answers. Surely General Skywalker would want to know more. “You live in the Temple with General Kenobi?” It was rather a shot in the dark, as Kix didn’t really know what would happen, especially after the war.

“No. I’ve never been to the Temple.”

That was surprising, more than most things. General Kenobi did not make it a secret that he loved the Jedi Temple. Most Jedi did. A lot of clones even did. His face twisted as he frowned at the prospect. “What? Where do you live?”

“Lots of places. We were on the run. We are all each other has. It’s just us.”

“What about Skywalker?” Kix swallowed, he didn’t like where this was heading. He didn’t like any of this, really. There was virtually nothing in this conversation that he had enjoyed or found any good in. “I can’t imagine he would just sit back,” he added, cautiously.

“It’s just us,” Luke repeated.

He seemed unwilling to give up anything else. Kix just left it alone.

***

“He’s pretty mad at me huh?” Luke’s voice made Ahsoka jump a little. She had not expected that he had felt her presence. Quickly, she calmed herself and sat next to him. Obi-Wan’s breathing was steady, like he was asleep rather than in some unexplainable coma. She had followed Anakin and Captain Rex to the bridge and called Commander Cody. Even through the wavering blue holocall, Ahsoka could see his expression darken with everything that was listed off. It was a short call, and he ordered a rendezvous, suggesting a call to the Council. Anakin didn’t like that, even though he promised he would. Commander Cody didn’t particularly look like he believed him. Ahsoka didn’t really believe him either.

After the call, Kix had walked up, having left the medical bay, probably to give Anakin an update. Ahsoka had slipped away as Kix just said he didn’t have anything new and worked her way back towards the medical hall. Maybe she should talk to Luke. She was more his age, perhaps he would be more willing to open up to her.

She hadn’t been expecting being unable to sneak up on him. Usually, she was good at that. Either she was losing her touch, or he was just good. Luke had called her out, sitting cross legged next to Master Obi-Wan’s cot. Perhaps he had been mediating, he kind of looked like he was beforehand.

“Skyguy is just protective,” she assured.

Luke glanced at her with his brows furrowed in confusion. “I was talking about Master Skywalker?”

Ahsoka let out a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood a little. Everyone was so dour. She supposed it made sense, none of the events or information they did know wasn’t exactly uplifting or positive. “Same. I just call him that. He calls me Snips.”

Although he was smirking, a bit amused, Luke’s nose wrinkled, unsure of that idea. Perhaps it was more the nickname itself that he didn’t care for rather than the concept of them. “If you like that I guess,” he snickered quietly. Ahsoka smiled, she was right.

“Does Master Obi-Wan have any nicknames for you?”

Luke caught on quick and took a moment to think about it. “Not many but a few. He used to call me Beacon a lot when I was a kid,” he admitted, touching his chin. “His beacon of hope.”

Ahsoka couldn’t help the dread that grew in her chest. It was a cute nickname, aside from the underlying implications.

“That’s really sweet,” she forced out with a strict smile. Keep going, keep going. “How long as Master Obi-Wan been with you?”

Pausing for a long time, he appeared to do some math in his head, his gaze flitting around the room with the thought. “I’m not entirely sure. Since I was eight or nine, I think. The time was a bit blurry. My aunt and uncle that were raising me had been…they were killed. Ben took me in.”

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry,” Ahsoka replied, genuinely, that was followed with a frown. There were a lot of orphans in the war and although Master Obi-Wan liked and was pretty good with children, it didn’t seem very likely for him to just…adopt one. It was likely that he was force sensitive; she hadn’t really checked or looked but even if he was, it made even more sense for Master Obi-Wan to take him to the Jedi Temple to petition him to be put in the creche like other younglings. Something wasn’t adding up. “Did you ever know your parents?”

Blonde hair shifted as Luke shook his head. “No. My mother died in childbirth.”

“And your dad?”

Luke did not respond right away, biting his lip. “…complicated,” he ended up with, trying to shrug it off. A touchy subject, she guessed. “But Ben is great. I’d be somewhere terrible or dead if not for him. He is my guardian.”

“You care about him.”

“I love him,” Luke corrected with a lopsided smile. “He does his best.” The teenager looked over where Obi-Wan was laying as he twitched, but just barely. It was the first real movement the body had made since he had been found. Luke took his hand, wrapping his fingers around the older man’s and squeezed gently. “We have each other. It might not be much, but he makes the best of it.”

Ahsoka wanted to ask him about the future. She had so many questions. Why was Obi-Wan, of all people, on the run, where were Skyguy and her? Where were the clones or the jedi? But it seemed fairly clear Luke wouldn’t give her those answers.

She tried a different approach.

“Was Master Obi-Wan teaching you to be a jedi?”

Luke smiled brightly and Ahsoka nearly felt blinded by the light in the Force. His nickname hadn’t been just a symbol, Luke’s force presence was so bright. And boy, was he force sensitive; powerful and brilliant, like Anakin. They weren’t the same but how much power they seemed to exude was on similar levels. “Yes! He is raising me as a Jedi. I wanted it.”

The repetition and change of her phrase niggled in the back of her mind.

“Do you have a saber?”

“Not yet,” his shoulders sunk a little in disappointment. “Illum has been…unreachable as of late. Ben has been trying to find a way or other crystals, but we are waiting until one calls to me. He has another saber, but the crystal doesn’t really resonate with me well. It has a history.”

Ahsoka nodded. She understood most of that, many crystals can be notoriously picky with their users. They were even known to fight sometimes. “Perhaps when Master Obi-Wan wakes up, you can borrow his and we can spar.”

Luke visibly brightened again. “I would love that. I haven’t really been able to spar with anyone,” he confessed, beaming clearer than Ahsoka had seen him. Her heart felt like it was melting a little; he was kind of adorable with his little dimples and enthusiasm. She had little doubt that Master Obi-Wan was teaching him, that look could probably placate entire planet governments.

Ahsoka grinned back, baring her teeth, as her stomach growled. It had been quite some time since she and her master had gone to the planet surface to find Obi-Wan’s ship as well as the man from the planet. “Are you hungry?”

Luke nodded. His grin had diminished but he still looked rather pleased, instead of the reserved protective and schooled nature he had been sporting previously. Ahsoka exhaled silently; it appeared as if she had gained some kind of rapport and trust with this mysterious kid. “Famished,” he answered.

“We can go to the mess for some grub,” she shrugged, hopping up to her feet from her seat. She swung her arms to stretch them out a little bit. It felt nice on her muscles, but it also bought her a few casual moments for him to answer.

Hesitating, Luke glanced over at Obi-Wan, his brow furrowing in concern. “I don’t think I should leave Ben,” he replied finally. His gaze flitted over to her in a bit of a silent apology.

She tried not to let it bother her. Perhaps Skyguy would have liked to be alone with his former master for a bit, but then again, he was probably knee deep in talks with the Council, or at the very least, Master Windu. “I’ll bring you back something,” she replied slowly.

His smile was softer and quieter but no less sincere. “I would appreciate that.”

“Anything specific?”

He chuckled slightly, as if he was remembering something. She wished she knew what it was, to be in on the joke. Luke was interesting and she wanted to know him better. “No. I can eat just about anything,” he replied instead. Ahsoka stepped out, ready to move and come back quickly so they could talk some more.

When she had come back barely ten minutes later, she almost got the drop on him. She had been in the doorway, peering inside. Luke had settled near Master Obi-Wan’s head, messing with the master’s hair a little bit. He appeared a bit amused. “Got some nice color in it at this time, huh?” he murmured with a smile. “Guess you aren’t under the twin suns of the desert for ten years, so it isn’t so bleached,” he added with a chuckle. “I really hope you came back with me; I hope this is real. I want to meet everyone you love but I can’t imagine doing it without you. But even if you don’t, I’ll choose you anyways, if you’ll have me.”

Ahsoka’s feet walked with her mind too far behind, which let Luke know that she was coming in. Disappointing, she would have liked to know more about Luke what was talking about. “I got some grub!” she declared as Luke looked up at her and smiled, cordially.

“Thank you,” he included, shifting a bit away from Obi-Wan. She proffered the container with his food in it, and they sat down on the floor next to the bed, the machines steadily beeping as they quickly dug in.

“So, if you’re from the future and you’re around Master Obi-Wan all the time, I’m guessing you know a bit about us,” Ahsoka pointed out, twirling her fork in the food. It was a guess, but she hoped that Master Obi-Wan would at least talk about her and Anakin, if nothing else. If they weren’t around. “You knew who Anakin was when we found you and you asked for Kix by name.”

Luke nodded, slurping up some of his. He glanced up at her, but his gaze was watchful, as if he had to be vigilant on what he said. Ahsoka wished he didn’t feel like that; they should be friends, especially with their connections to Master Obi-Wan. She wondered how Anakin would feel about a brother padawan. “Yeah. Ben told a lot of stories about pretty much everyone he knew well,” he conceded. “He liked telling them and I liked hearing them. I asked all the time.”

“Hope they were all good!” Ahsoka cheered, artfully trying to compel him to elaborate.

“I thoroughly enjoyed them,” he countered as a substitute. “Do you know where we are going?”

Ahsoka tried not to feel too disheartened at the shortage of information she was getting but then again, she didn’t want to push Luke away. She really liked him, he was sweet and charismatic, although a bit protective, at least as far as she had seen. Ahsoka could certainly see why Master Obi-Wan would like him. She knew he was training him to be a jedi, but Luke hadn’t used to the word padawan. Perhaps he was training him without the Council’s permission? That seemed improbable. Shaking off the questions in her head, she answered his as best she could. “Pretty sure we will head to Coruscant,” she started and barely caught a hint of Luke’s faint shudder. “But that will be after we meet back up with the 212th.”

This made Luke perk up, his shoulders rolling to make him look a bit taller. “The 212th? Ben’s old attack battalion? We are going to meet up with them?”

“You know them?”

“Of course,” Luke’s grin was back, and he was just about the most excited she had seen him yet, even more so than the suggestion of a spar. “Ben told me about them all the time. I’ve always wanted to meet them. Is Commander Cody going to be there?”

Ahsoka smirked at him, amused. “Yeah. Cody usually keeps with the 212th, alongside Master Obi-Wan, but he is the Marshall Commander.”

Luke nodded, his torso shifting in anticipation. “Yes, he and Ben led the entire Third Systems Army,” he prattled enthusiastically.

The Togruta padawan nodded a bit entertained by this turn of events. “Yes.”

Biting his lip, a bit Luke tried to hold back a grin. “Do you know when he will be here?”

“A couple hours I’d say,” Ahsoka shrugged, rotating her dish. “Shouldn’t be too long.”

Luke just looked peculiarly ecstatic about that, beaming strangely at his food and dug in with a bit more gusto.

“How is he?” Anakin demanded, although he kept his voice rather low. Kix had come up to him as Ahsoka had slipped away. Perhaps she was going to try and gather intel. He felt a twinge of satisfaction at the thought. The more they knew about this mysterious child, the better off they would be. Turns out, Kix had the same idea and Anakin wasn’t disappointed.

“Physically, he is fine,” Kix answered, a bit helplessly. He didn’t have any more answers about General Kenobi’s condition than before, which everyone knew would irritate the medic. Perhaps the 212th would have better luck finding those answers. They knew General Kenobi better than most and Luke seemed to prefer them. “I’m pretty sure this is probably Force-related.”

“Did you talk to him?” Captain Rex inquired. “The boy? Luke?”

The medic just nodded. “Yes. Said he met me briefly in the future, and that’s why he knew my name. He wouldn’t give me a last name, mentioning that he and General Kenobi were on the run. I don’t know from who.”

Anakin scowled with his brow heavily creasing.

“From what?” Rex asked as his brows seemed to mirror his General’s. It probably would have been an humorous sight, if not for the reason and contexts.

“He wouldn’t say,” Kix replied with a small shake of his head.

“Where am I?” Anakin griped, mostly to himself. He mused about this, not appearing to happy because no one could imagine the answer would be one they would want to hear, much less be true. But Kix answered, as he seemed to have some semblance of a response. He didn’t look thrilled about it either.

“Sir, from the way he was talking, I’m pretty sure you are dead.”

The silence hung in the air like fog, suffocating everything with a looming presence and a horrible line of thought. No one could imagine what that would entail. Although the troopers had come to understand, better than almost anyone, that the Jedi were not invincible, that they were flesh and bone and blood like everyone else; that they could die, General Kenobi and General Skywalker always seemed to come out on top. Even with all the odds and problems stacked up against them, they always came through. If not with a victory, then at least with a survival. The notion that one of them did not and that the remaining one was on the run seemed impossible and unfeasible.

“We contacted Commander Cody,” Rex broke the silence, desperately trying to change the subject. No one wanted to think further about the implications of what Kix had learned. General Skywalker��s face had softened just a bit, like he had realized something that he hadn’t before, something about the repercussions of his possible death and the affect that it would have on the other General. No trooper could tell exactly what it was.

“I’m not happy,” Skywalker muttered. His voice sounded a little annoyed, which was no surprise to anyone, but his gaze was apprehensive and fleeting, almost deep in thought.

“We really should contact the Jedi Council,” Kix added, uncomfortably, as he watched General Skywalker’s expression go through a multitude of different phases he couldn’t pinpoint. Rarely did the medic really want to know what was going on in General Skywalker’s head. “They might know something.”

It took a long moment before Skywalker realized they had been talking to him and he jumped out of his thoughts. “Oh right, yeah, whatever. Let’s call them.

They had connected to General Windu. It was a bit of a busy time for the Council specifically which was probably why the Korun general looked a bit more irritated and tired than usual with Skywalker’s appearance. “Skywalker, did you retrieve Kenobi?”

“Is it just you?” General Skywalker replied, carefully. “Something happened, the Council should probably here about it.” It was fairly apparent that Skywalker didn’t really believe his own words, but they all just went along with it.

“This isn’t a great time,” General Windu replied with a frown. “Most Counselors are currently out of touch or in active battles. Master Yoda is briefing the Chancellor on the latest Ryloth campaign,” he explained, unequivocally. “I’m the only one with a momentary reprieve. Did something happen?”

General Skywalker frowned but explained the situation, from finding General Kenobi on the planet surface they had just come from to the person who was suddenly there out of nowhere, protecting him and his unexplainable coma. Kix had offered his two cents in with possible Force-related reasons. Windu seemed to take these seriously and into account.

“It is possible,” General Windu agreed. “There are several force-induced comas and reasons relating to the Force that could be applicable, although we wouldn’t know without an actual Jedi healer and probably some research. After meeting up with the 212th, come back to Coruscant so we can figure this out. I believe there is a knight nearby that can come within a day or two to assist.”

“So, you don’t trust me to lead the armies by myself,” Anakin suggested flatly, his eyes narrowing.

Kix wanted to groan. This was not the time to be creating problems and arguments. With a glance in Captain Rex and Commander Appo’s direction, it seemed the others agreed.

“This has nothing to do with you, personally,” General Windu replied, his own expression just as calm and schooled as it always was. A perfect picture of serious without condescending, although they were all pretty sure that he had to be a bit frustrated with the young knight. Most could relate, both jedi and troopers. Skywalker had a certain way of doing things that not everyone agreed with. “It is, however, protocol. As well, your specialty involves a single legion with specific missions. Obi-Wan’s is different. He creates plans, tactics and organizes an entire fleet. You will need help,” General Windu shook his head and clicked a few buttons. Commander Cody’s blurry visage appeared with a short greeting. “Commander Cody, have you been briefed on what has happened?”

“Yes sir,” Cody nodded shortly. “We believe we can meet up within the next couple of hours. It should not take long.”

General Windu nodded and Kix could have sworn he looked a little relieved. “Kenobi keeps promoting you left and right. Is it possible for you to manage temporarily, at least until you get back to Coruscant?”

The Commander nodded again and although no one could see it, most were a bit certain Cody was nearly shrinking at the underlying praise. “Yes sir. General Kenobi and I work together closely and often. All it is, at this point for now, is mainly paperwork which I can do, given the permission and authority.”

“You have it Commander. Requisite and take any help you need,” General Windu replied easily. Kix and Rex both shot Cody a smirk, which he had caught, but did not react. “We will do all we can. Meanwhile, there is a jedi who is a couple days out. He is the nearest we have that can help. Since this is your battalion, Commander, you are above him at this point. He will help you however you need. He’s not a General like Kenobi, but it will satisfy protocol for now until we can figure this out.”

“Yes sir,” Commander Cody saluted. He stayed online but stepped back, letting Skywalker to take point on the conversation as it swerved.

“What do we tell people?”

“This does not get out,” General Windu insisted, sharply. His frown deepened a little more, the thought seeming to disturb him to an extent. “Obi-Wan is one of our top Generals. No one can know he is currently indisposed.”

“What about the Chancellor?” Anakin challenged.

Windu’s expression flattened in a chilly, seriousness. The troopers shuttered faintly, unconsciously. “We have things in hand, as of currently. If Obi-Wan is more permanently indisposed, we can bother the Chancellor with this but for now, say and do nothing. Keep this within in the 501st and 212th.”

The younger knight just scowled but he nodded.

“Hopefully, he will awake, and duties can be resumed,” General Windu added. His hand had reached up a little, but he kept it down after realizing the movement. Kix frowned. He looked so tired. Every time he had seen a High General and Counselor, they always looked so exhausted. He knew they were leading most of the war effort, but he wondered what other duties they were being piled with. Kix caught Cody’s hardened gaze, which, to his surprise, looked a bit with a weird mix of furious and worried. It was faint but Kix wondered what he knew. He wasn’t angry at the General, that seemed apparent, but he knew something that Kix didn’t particularly have information on.

“What about this supposed time traveler?” Anakin pressed again.

Kix could almost see the migraine forming on General Windu’s face, even though the transmission. Everyone involved now just wished Skywalker would simply stop trying to cause problems. Whether he meant it or not, his tone grated. “He’s not causing any trouble, is he?” Mace asked with a slow blink. Oh, definitely a migraine.

“He won’t let anyone get near him except Rex and Kix,” Anakin replied with a small snarl, his lip curling. “Even then, he is jumpy and protective.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” General Windu muttered so quietly, Kix was sure General Skywalker had not even heard it.

“He cares about the General,” Kix added in, carefully. Cody turned to stare at him intently, as if Kix could give him answers telepathically. The Jedi had told them they weren’t telepathic, but it seemed like it sometimes. Kix almost kind of wished he could do that too, whatever they did, if only to give the commander answers and get Cody’s intense gaze off of him. Kix continued easily, avoiding eye contact. “Lives with him. Certain the General is raising him.”

“Raising another padawan?” General Windu mumbled but Kix could not pick up any other tonal cues to suggest what he meant by that. Once again, it didn’t seem that General Skywalker had heard him. Louder, he continued, “leave him for now. The Jedi coming to you may be able to help with his intentions.”

General Skywalker just bristled, not pleased with this answer.

“Time travel is not out of the realm of possibility,” he added, slowly. “I don’t know any specific case of it but there are plenty of readings, documents and research that support the theory of its ability. It is entirely possible that this boy is telling the truth, but I think we will know for certain when General Kenobi wakes up. For now, just rendezvous with the 212th,” General Windu ordered. “And get back to Coruscant.”

With a faint and defeated sigh that probably would not have translated through the call, he replied with a “Yes master,” and everything turned off. General Skywalker closed his fists and tightened them for a moment before letting the pressure go. “Estimated time of arrival?”

“Three hours and forty-three minutes for rendezvous with the 212th,” a soldier relayed. “Six days, eleven hours and twelve minutes to get back to Coruscant, approximately, if there are no other issues or setbacks.”

General Skywalker nodded, accepting this. “Alright, let’s get a move on. I think it is about time I go talk to our guest.”

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yeah-im-weak-and-wanting · 4 years ago

Text

this started as a short, incoherent thing of me projecting/processing my own shit and it turned into that but longer.

tw; discussions of death, grief, complicated/confusing grief

(quick note that probably unnecessary but oh well, because this is me projecting and cause I can i would like to add; this is a modern!AU but still like, Witchers and mages but there was no djinn death wish)

His phone isn’t groaning with how tightly he’s holding it, or whatever clichéd description one could give. Partially because he isn’t gripping it tightly at all and partially because it is a phone and he is a human being, or close enough.

He’s seen Lambert breaking a phone by gripping too tight, can’t remember why though.

Grip still loose, he stares down at the dark screen. Maybe squeezing would help? Gripping right until his knuckles bleach and the indents in his palm linger. Is that how he should be feeling?

There’s a shout from in front of him and a flailed movement, Lambert’s indignation clear in response to whatever Eskel just said. Yen sighs from the passenger seat, glancing at the driver’s seat to share an exasperated look with Vesemir. Geralt says nothing from where he’s crammed between his brothers. They’re loud and rowdy but he knows if he opened his mouth they would all listen. He could tell them.

He should tell them. He’s the one who pushes for them to be open, to be honest, to not try to go it alone. But they- for them it’s not-

Besides, he’s said it once. Said the words out loud and once is still reversible. Once could still be a mistake. Once can be taken back and he won’t be left here so confused and unsure and- and and and. Gods, hollow maybe? Drained and numb, only barely present in the moment. He knows disassociation but he’s drifted away from applying the knowledge.

It’s just that- he didn’t exactly like the guy and it’d be shitty to start lying about it now. They were forced friends, stuck in proximity for long periods of time and working together, interacting positively. And he can’t prove the “see I’ve got a gay friend” tokenism, just knew the vibe, judged by other things and he was pretty sure he was right. But, but there was never anything clear. Anything certain. Just knowing who else the other hung out with and what they were like. Just the other man being unfailingly kind to him. Not with any fakeness or agenda. Just kindness. Just memories that aren’t all that bad. Good ones even.

And Essi’s voice was so, so desperate on the phone, desperate for him to take the words back. He didn’t say them again but the shaky confirmation wasn’t any better. Priscilla choked on the words while telling him. He needs to tell- he was going to- but Yen knocked on his hotel room door and told him to hurry up before he could. He will, he just-

Geralt grumbles about the radio station, leaning forward as if he thinks he’ll actually be able to reach it.

“Valdo’s dead.”

He says it a second time. He kind of wants a tear to drop down onto his phone screen, the dramatic realization that he’s crying. A cinematic staging with crystalline liquid on a dark screen. A dam breaking to clear, understandable emotions, he didn’t like the guy. But nothing he just feels vaguely nauseous and so very lost.

Lambert chuckles, “Gods, what’d the guy do this time?”

“Not like- I don’t mean- he’s-“ fuck it’s still not real and he knows the saying is third times the charm so he switches, he can’t say those words again. “He was driving back from- I don’t- he was driving- there was- was behind a wrecker- I don’t know.”

The radio cuts out, Yen getting it off on the second attempt, he’s pretty sure they’ve all turned to look at him. Not Vesemir. He’s driving gods, he’s driving he shouldn’t distract him, what if-

“Wait, Jask, you’re not- you’re not complaining about something he did, you’re saying he was...”

“Priscilla texted me. Asked to call. One of our, she got told and realized I’d need to know. Want to know. I’m- I told Essi, still need to- I’ve still got to talk to the others.”

It’s silent then, no other cars near them, just them, their engine. It’s dark outside. Priscilla said it happened in the afternoon. Early afternoon. The one article from the local news from the area where it happened -hours away from where they are, hours away from where Valdo lives, fuck, not lives- said 2:06pm. It wasn’t dark then.

It’s silent and Jaskier waits for the detached comment, an acknowledgment that it’s sad. Everyone’s heard his bitching about the other man, has had their own gripes from their interactions with him. And maybe he shouldn’t be affected? That seems cruel, seems wrong. That’s not what he means. It’s sad even when strangers die. Maybe he shouldn’t be so affected. He’s not- is he affected? He doesn’t fucking know, he’s just so lost.

He waits for the “oh that’s sad, moving on-”, eyes squeezing shut tight enough that they water. And that aches. He’s not crying. He wants to because that’s a concrete something he knows how to identify. Something he has words for.

There’s a click, movement, rustling, a weird amalgamation of them. And suddenly weight and warmth. Jaskier jerks and blinks his eyes open.

Geralt’s half over the seat back and dragging himself the rest of the way. There’s a couple of grunts -not from just Geralt’s, but from his brothers too. The other Witchers shove him and Geralt half-falls the rest of the way in jerky stutters. He manages to mostly aim himself to the seat next to Jaskier but not completely and some limb -Jaskier’s not honestly sure, he’s not willing to care enough to figure it out- lands in his lap. Geralt rights himself quickly enough.

There’s a quiet, “no, you don’t need go to as well” but Jaskier doesn’t know who said it or to whom. He looks back down at his phone, the screen’s still dark. He’s not waiting for a message from Valdo, they didn’t text all that much. He’s not waiting for a message but waiting for a message, for a call, for something is the narrative image he knows, and that would be something.

“Hey.” Geralt’s voice isn’t quiet or soft. It isn’t that clear attempt at comforting that people do and that- the fact that it’s not, the fact that it’s just familiarly Geralt helps. Because that usual comforting attempt is that identifiable reaction and Jaskier doesn’t know what he’s feeling. What he’s supposed to be feeling.

Jaskier flips his phone a few times. “I- I checked. Googled it. Happened yesterday. When we- while we were at IKEA.” His voice is part way towards flat but not all the way there.

“You were on the phone when I knocked.” It’s not a question, just a quiet acknowledgement with a note of apology. Yen had been annoyed when she knocked. Reasonably so. Jaskier had been edging towards lateness and she didn’t know.”

“Was Essi. She didn’t-” Essi’s young. She’s lost people, grandparents, an aunt. But never some one closer in age. Never this, this suddenly. And grief is grief. And despite what some angsty assholes may half-boast about, there’s no getting better at it. There’s no being an old hat at it. Everyone grieves differently and each grief, each loss is different. So there’s no- there’s no right way or one way to feel.

He knows he should listen to that himself but, but, but it’s different. That’s not-

Geralt doesn’t lean over, instead scots over, pressed close against Jaskier, warmth immediately sinking in. Warm is alive. Alive. Valdo’s not- Valdo wasn’t actually a good hugger, loose and an awkward hold. But warm. And now- now he’s-

The fucking article said enough for Jaskier to work out how the accident happened. And Google didn’t help- told him what the back end of the other vehicle was like- he can figure out what- what-

Fuck.

“Geralt, I-” He’s still not crying, his voice isn’t breaking, isn’t cracking but it is chipping. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”

It’s not fair for him to do this to the other man. He’s supposed to help Geralt, help the others figure out their emotions and their shit. And now, now he doesn’t know. He’s supposed to know, supposed to be the one who-

This time it’s his seatbelt that clicks -he’s the one that clicks it but it’s disconnected from his thinking- and he moves. Twists into Geralt’s warmth. Geralt doesn’t hesitate, he’s always been all confident action, wraps him close. They shift a smidge until it’s comfortable. Seatbelts are important. Valdo was wearing his the article said. He’s pressed close and feels Geralt’s chest move when he talks, “You don’t have to, you don’t have to. Jaskier, you don’t have to be the one who knows.”

Apparently he said some of that aloud. At least he can fulfill one cliché.

“Wolf’s right, Buttercup. Don’t hafta know. ‘Specially not right now.” Lambert’s never been one for pity. No one in this car is. But Lambert’s self-proclaimed asshole status is one he works to live up to. He’s saying this because he believes it.

“I didn’t like him.”

“That’s not how this works. Not how grief works.”

A clicking starts. The turn signal. It’s the turn for Kaer Morhen. Not that anyone else in the world would know. They’re not exactly close to getting there but their closer. Two more hours in their four hour drive.

“It’s fucking stupid.”

“You looked up articles?”

Eskel’s question doesn’t come out of left field cause Jaskier knows everyone in the car knows him well enough to know he’d done exactly that. “Yeah.”

“Oh, Jaskier.” It’s not pitying or scolding. Just soft and kind. “That was also fucking stupid.” It’s still Yen. She means it kindly.

“Yup.”

There’s a huffed breath, “I’m already doing the same.”

“Don’t.”

A second huffed breath says that Lambert is doing it anyway. Jaskier’s got a wild imagination and too much creativity but everyone in the car does too, in their own way. And the information is enough anyway. But Lambert, the others, they’re Witcher. An unimaginably powerful sorceress. This is- they’ve lost and seen and- a car accident isn’t-

“Fucking hell.” Lambert’s voice is steady and sure. “‘S real.”

Jaskier doesn’t take offense. He knows the other man believed him. But seeing someone reporting on it is different.

It’s also, it’s also, it’s also-

Lambert’s saying it now. Saying it with gravity and heaviness.

The weight drops, the one he hadn’t realized had been pressing down on him. His chest felt hollow before but now-

Now a wind blows through his veins, empty in every limb. The poetic part of him likens his body to a winterbare tree, branches empty and bandied about by winter gales. He still doesn’t cry because of course not. Why would it be easy. Why should how he feels make sense why can’t he just figure it fucking out.

Blunt fingernails run over his scalp, steady pressure against his head. Geralt’s other arm around his waist, a single finger tapping against Jaskier’s hip. The same grounding Jaskier’s used on the other man. Vesemir hums tunelessly. The oldest Witcher does that often enough for the sound to slot in seamlessly. Not stand out as an uncharacteristic attempt at comfort.

He doesn’t know how to feel, how to think, what to do but he does know that this car is full of people who will help, who will care.

Jaskier waits for that to be enough.

It isn’t.

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bombyxluna · 5 years ago

Text

Can't blame me (the heart knows what it wants) - Satan X Reader

tags: ANGST, long distance relationship, miscommunication, breaking up

word count: 5.1K

__________________________________________

August 29th

It really had been fate, you and Satan. After meeting in RAD, you were inseparable. You had the perfect young romance that grew into a love that you hang to no matter what. He was more than your first love, he was one of your best friends, someone you could trust in, someone to rely on.

So you couldn't help but feel sad and misoriented as you watch him place the last carry-on on his car, ready to leave for his master’s degree. In some distant point of the human world, while you were stuck in the Devildom - ironic, really. It was a pain just to think about how far away you’ll be, but although you don’t like it, you know it’s a great opportunity. He had gotten a full scholarship for the music program at the Soul Institute of Arts. It was an impassable opportunity, a once in a lifetime chance, and you were both very aware of it. That’s why you hug him, kissing him gently one last time. He had asked you not to drive him to the airport, because it’d be too much, too hard. You had agreed, even if it hurt a little, mostly because you didn’t want anyone to see you cry.

“I love you," he said, resting his chin on your shoulder. You held onto him tighter, not wanting to let go, hoping that the moment would last forever.

“I love you too," you whispered through the tears that were already forming in your eyes, and he smiled, moving away from you a bit to thumb at them.

“Don’t cry. I’ll be back," he touched his forehead to yours, hand roaming lightly in your hair, and you sighed.

“I know," a deep breath, “I know," your eyes met his and he smiled, reassuringly. Everything would be okay. You would make it work.

“Okay," he said, softly, then took a deep breath. “I have to go, can’t lose the flight”

You only nodded, choking up on your tears, and walked him to the door. He scooped you up one last time, kissing your face everywhere, and you both giggled. Your hands gripped his shoulders subconsciously, and, even as he settled you back on the ground, you didn’t let him go. He laughed lightly, removing your hands and intertwining your fingers together, then hugging you once more.

“I’ll miss you," he confessed, voice muffled by your hoodie, and you stifled a cry.

“I’ll miss you too," he ran a hand through your hair, kissing your forehead.

“Skype me every day?" he smiled, getting into the car.

“You know it," you answered, promptly, because you knew you would, and he looked relieved. “Good luck there, I’m sure it’ll be amazing”

“Thank you, Y/N," he said, holding your hand in one of his, the other one twisting the key in the ignition, “For everything”

You nodded, caressing the back of his hand with your thumb, “You too”

He nodded as well and took a deep breath. You smiled, softly closing the door for him, and waved as he left the curb, entering the highway. You tried not to focus on the fact that you wouldn’t see him again for at least one year as you watched the car disappear on the curve out of your apartment complex, and walked back inside, feeling numb.

September 1st

“Hey babe!" his voice rang through the shitty speaker of your computer, not matching the image being displayed on the screen.

“Sat, I can’t see you! The image is delayed!," you exclaimed, looking at the frozen image of what you assumed was Satan, but looked more like a blur of white and orange.

“Oh my apologies," you heard him swear, and then a thud. There was more fumbling around and a few more swears, and suddenly he appeared on the screen, smiling widely at you. The quality of the video still wasn’t perfect, but you smiled anyway. It was him, he was there, he was safe.

“I can see you now!," you said, just as he asked if the video was working, and you both giggled, “How was the flight?”

“It was fine, my back hurts a bit but other than that, it was actually pretty good. I got a window seat," he fumbled around with what seemed to be a speaker, plugging it into his computer.

“I’m glad. You should’ve called me when you landed! I was worried sick!" you scowled, and he cackled.

“I wanted to, babe, I swear, but I had no signal and no internet for hours after I arrived," he explained, twisting the cord of his earbuds as he spoke, and you felt your heartwarming.

“I miss you already," you said, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and he looked at you with fondness.

“I do too," his voice was heavy with unshed tears, and you both fell quiet for a moment, relishing in the bittersweetness of the situation.

“But it’s too good an opportunity for you to pass it, Sat," you smiled softly, and he nodded, smiling too, a mix of sadness and knowing in his lips.

“I know," he sighed, shoulders slumping, “But I miss you. One year is too long”

“It is," you agreed, “And I’ll die of loneliness probably, but we can make it through!”

“Of course we can!" he cheered, laughing loudly, and you felt your heart swooning. Whatever happened, you knew you and Satan would be okay.

September 15th

“I’m like super late, I’m sorry," you told him, finally sitting down and pulling your laptop onto your lap. He shook his head, waving you off, and smiled.

“Don’t worry!" he perched up, sitting back against the headboard of his bed, and sighed.

“Tell me about the university! What’s it like? Do you like your classes?" you chirped, excited to hear it all about his first week.

He bounced up and down on the mattress, a big smile spreading on his face, “Yes, oh my god, Y/N, everything is so beautiful! The studios are amazing and the teachers are super nice. Everyone in the program is too”

“I’m so happy to hear that, Sat! I’m glad you’re enjoying it," you said in earnest, body relaxing. You were more worried about his first day than Satan himself, too scared about possible cultural shocks, people not getting along with him, him feeling alone…things like that. He laughed when he noticed that, shaking his head.

“You’re unbelievable. You were that worried? Do you not have any faith in me?" he asked, pulling an overdramatic pose, and you giggled.

“That’s not it and you know it. Of course, I knew you’d be okay! You’re the most outgoing person ever," you joked, although it was the truth, and le laughed, pleased.

“I know. Hey, want to see how I organized my room?" he asked, out of the blue, and you clapped.

“Yesss! Show me around, give me a tour!”

Satan laughed and picked the laptop up, walking around the room, and you smiled as he showed you every part of his new life, beaming proudly at your boyfriend.

October 7th

“You don’t understand, she really doesn’t cut us any slack," Satan whined, for the thousandth time, about his new teacher. Apparently, she was a legend in the hellish music industry, but a cold bitch to her students. Satan had five different assignments, all of them involving groups, and he was tired. He had called you, eyes droopy, voice rough with sleep, and you felt bad for holding him up.

“You should rest, then, Sat," you said, as sweetly as possible, and he nodded, head lolling from side to side.

“I know, I know. I just really wanted to see you before I went to bed," he pouted, smiling tiredly at you, and you wished you could cuddle him.

“I can stay until you fall asleep, if you want," you promised, and he perched up at that.

“Would you really?”

“Of course, babe," you answered, and he nodded, too tired to keep talking. Satan settled down on the bed, laptop focusing on his face only, and you spoke softly to him, smiling to yourself when, not even three minutes later, you noticed he was already out like a light.

October 24th

“Hey, sorry I haven’t been able to talk much lately… things are… hasty right now," Satan said, avoiding your eyes. he rubbed at the back of his neck, black beanie covering his blond locks you loved so much, and you sighed.

“That’s okay, don’t worry," you dismissed him, waving a hand, I just missed you, that’s all”

“I know you did. I… missed you too," he cast his glance down, twisting his fingers before he took a deep breath, “I have something to tell you”

Your heart jumped, for some reason, those words seemed nothing but appealing to you, but you nodded anyway, letting him speak.

“I’m… not going home for the new year," he said, fast, getting it out of the way, “I can’t”

“What? But why? You had it all planned out, you even had the money!," you exclaimed, not understanding. Satan and you had planned for him to return to your city for the new years, and you would go back with him to the Devildom for your summer vacations. You had both been saving money for it since the day you found out about Satan’s scholarship. It made no sense, and you watched as he fidgeted around, settling the laptop down on the bed before speaking again.

“Something came up. Something important. I’ll have to stay here for it," he explained, vaguely, and that annoyed you.

“What is so important that you’ll have to throw away our plans?" you snapped, making him flinch slightly. His eyes ran around the room nervously before he looked at you.

For a second, it seemed like he would tell you what it was, a mix of resolve and questioning tangling in his features, but he only shook his head slightly instead, “I can’t tell you. But it’s important," his eyes met yours, “I mean it”

“Fine, Satan," your voice was harsh, and you crossed your arms in anger, pouting at him.

“I’m sorry," he said, honestly, and then glanced to somewhere in his left, “Uh… listen, I gotta go”

Your eyes widened at that, “Already? But it’s barely been ten minutes since we started talking!”

“I know. I’m sorry," his eyes met yours. He looked nervous, almost worried, and you huffed, still a bit annoyed. You simply waved him off before ending the call, not even bothering to say goodbye, and guilt flooded you as soon as you shut your laptop.

November 3rd

“That’s really cool," Satan said absentmindedly. He was clearly uninterested in whatever topic you talked about, only glazing them off and humming along to your words. Your chest felt heavy. There was something wrong with him, you were sure of it, but he wouldn’t tell you what. He pulled his phone out, glancing at it for the thousandth time before slipping it back into his pocket. He checked the thing every three minutes or so, and every time he did, he looked more worried, and his mind slipped even further away from you. Every Time he did, you felt worst. Your head was filled with possibilities of why he was doing that, each one worse than the other, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Satan had been getting colder, more distant with every call, and it only served to make you more and more unsettled.

“I’m gonna hang up," you said, after minutes of you silently watching Satan, checking his phone like he was waiting for something, not even noticing you had stopped speaking.

He looked up then, after you spoke, and looked shocked. “What? Why?”

“You have barely spoken to me and I have to get some things finished before tomorrow. For uni," you explained, trying not to be too harsh on him. His expression changed, guilt clear on his face, but you waved him off before he could apologize - it seemed to you that, in the past calls, all he did was apologize -, “It’s cool, Sat, don’t sweat it”

“Okay," he said, simply, “Can we talk later? I’ll call you? On the phone," he looked ready for a flat out rejection, but you cackled lightly.

“Sure, that sounds good," you said, and he smiled. “Goodbye, then”

“Bye, Y/N, good luck with your stuff," he smiled, looking relieved - whether it was about you not being angry at him or the call being ended sooner than expected, you didn’t know -, and waved back.

“You too, Sat," you said, voice breaking, and you turned the call off before he could notice. Your chest felt heavy once again as you settled down the computer, your mouth tasting like iron and your mind spinning with thoughts you never knew you’d have.

November 25th

“Y/N, I gotta be quick, my group will be here soon for the project," Satan explained, going about the room and tidying it up, hiding, socks, and just about anything that was in the way in the closet.

“That’s okay," you lied. It wasn’t. You really missed Satan, having barely spoken to him the last weeks, and you felt horrible for feeling jealous but you did. You felt like some weren’t right like it was the calm before the storm, and that unsettled you. But Satan had more important things than you being (possibly) wrong at that moment, so you let him be.

“I swear I will call you tomorrow and we’ll speak for hours, but right now I really can’t," he said, panting slightly from running around, and you sulked.

“Sure, it’s no problem”

“Thanks, Y/N, you’re the best!" he threw you a flying kiss, coming closer to the screen, and you smiled at him.

“I know, Sat," you said, and he laughed before saying goodbye and turning the call off.

The next day, when he called you like promised, something still felt wrong.

December 7th

You’ve been chatting with Satan for a little over forty minutes, and honestly, you were extremely relieved, glad to actually have a proper conversation with him again. It wasn’t the greatest of the talks you’ve had, he kept dodging certain subjects and checking his phone every now and then, but the fact that he seemed to be paying at least some attention to you, answering accordingly, asking you questions, commenting on little things, seemed like a positive sign to you. Satan rubbed the back of his neck as he explained the antics of the book he was reading to you, saying it was one of the best works he’s ever heard when his phone rang. He stopped mid-sentence, glancing down at it, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the caller I.D.

“Who is it? It’s everything okay?" you asked, noticing his sudden discomfort, and he looked back at the screen as if just remembering you were there.

“Oh! It’s nothing, I… Y/N, I have to take this, so… I…. I have to go," he tripped over his words, getting up from the bed. You watched his head pop up on the corner of the screen as he answered the call with a quick, “Hello?," and mouthed an “I’m sorry," to you before closing his laptop.

You sat on your bed, still surprised, looking at the black screen announcing the call had ended. Satan had never before ended a call because of a phone call, always preferring to either take them while still talking to you or ignore them and call back later. You felt sick to your stomach, the recurring sensation that something was wrong coming back to you with full force as you stood from your bed, still thinking of what happened. You stilled, head swirling, and walked down to the kitchen. You needed some painkillers and sleep, thoughts settled on ignoring the strange sensation that you were still feeling.

December 22nd

You watched as the three blue dots on the screen jumped up and down, waiting for the call to connect. It had been nearly three weeks since you last spoke to Satan, and you missed him immensely. You ran a hand through your hair, adjusting your headband, trying to calm down your nerves. It had been months since you started to notice the change. Satan called less, talked less, and was less enthusiastic. During your (rare) skype sessions, he kept glancing away, stumbling over his own words. He seemed to rethink everything he said before saying it and was constantly shifting places, changing the theme of the conversation and ended the calls earlier than you’d expect. You knew something was wrong, and your chest felt tight, a small voice in your head giving you a pretty good idea of what, but you didn’t want to accept it at first. You spent weeks convincing yourself that he was probably just nervous from his papers, or that he missed you, or maybe he was too tired, but in the last call, that he ended abruptly when he received a phone call, you started to see the truth.

Your heart lapped when the call finally connected, Satan’s face showing up in the screen, and smiled nervously, fixing your posture and taking a deep breath, ‘Hi!," you exclaimed, waving at him. Maybe if you pretended not to see something was going on, everything would be fine in the end.

“Hi, babe," he said, shoulders slumped. His eyes were filled with emotion, but not the one you wanted to see in them.

You bit your tongue, cursing yourself internally, but you had to know. “Is there something wrong? You seem a bit off lately”

Satan stiffened, eyes flying to somewhere off the screen. they lingered there for a second, and he nodded lightly. He looked at you and took a deep breath. His eyes were fixed, confident, and he had that “this is the right thing to do” look on his face, “Y/N… we need to talk”

you shivered, his words cutting through you like a cold blade, but you kept your facade on. “Oh no, I know what that means”

He nodded once more, slowly, and finally spoke. His voice was clear like he had practiced the line over and over again, but his expression showed more emotion than you’ve ever seen him display before. “Y/N, I… there’s… someone else”

The words come like a slap. You thought you were ready for them, expected them, even, but you weren’t. Your head spin, tears immediately gathering in your eyes, but you bite them back. “What?”

“I wanted to tell you before, I just… I didn’t know how," he said, voice tainted with sadness and blame, “I’m sorry”

“You cheated on me," you said. You could feel your blood going cold with the weight of his words. It wasn’t unexpected, you saw it coming from a mile away, but the words still hurt you, still made you want to crawl out of your own skin.

“Worst. I’ve fallen in love," he said, voice heavy. He was looking at you with so many emotions that you felt dizzy, but you didn’t doubt his words for a second. Your heart thumped loudly against your ribcage because you weren’t expecting that, but you also knew he wouldn’t lie about it to you. Satan had always cherished love above all things - it was one of the things you admired most about him -, those words were as true as they would ever be, and knew that. You opened your eyes again, unsure of when you had even closed them, and watched him. His eyes were cast downwards as he tumbled with the charm of the necklace his mom had given him. You recognized the motion as a nervous tick of his.

“Who is she?" you asked after a quiet moment, despite your inner voice telling you to not do it, and watched as his shoulders visibly slumped, eyes moving side to side nervously. His hand, that was still playing with the charm of his necklace, stilled, and he bit, his lower lip, as he always did when unsure of what to say. “Don’t tell me…," you let your voice roam off, mainly because you didn’t want to finish the thought that lingered in your mind. As a response, Satan took a deep breath.

“I... his name is Yoosung, I’ve met him at the university. He… he is good to me, Y/N," he answered, refusing to make eye contact with you for more than a second. He was playing with the necklace again, and, in the silence that had made its way between the two of you, you could see that he was looking at something off the camera.

“Satan…," you wanted to curse, to be mad at him, to turn off the call and cry your eyes off, but you didn’t do any of those things. You stayed, quiet because you didn’t know what to say, couldn’t know what to say, but he spoke instead, filling the gap that quickly formed between the two of you as he voiced everything that, you knew, had been eating him alive for the past months.

“I know I screwed up. And I know you might never forgive me, and I don’t blame you for that, Y/N, but I want you to know that I did not plan this, I didn’t know it would happen nor I wanted it to happen. But it did, and…I’m really happy. Happier than I’ve ever been before. He’s… wow, he’s just… amazing," your heart shattered slowly, you could feel every piece of it falling down with every word he said. You kept quiet, unable to do anything about it, too focused on grasping the situation and keeping all your emotions at bay - too scared you would explode if they all came at once. Satan’s voice had a fondness that you’ve never before heard, his eyes were glimmering and he was smiling his gummy smile, even though you were sure he hadn’t noticed. You took a deep breath and swallowed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you felt your first love slip away from you and fall into someone else’s arms.

“I…," you tried out but the words didn’t come. For once in your life, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to do or how to be strong. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at Satan. It’s a harsh truth of loving someone: you want them to be happy, no matter how much it hurts you.

“I’m sorry," it’s all he said, and you know it’s all he could say. He fell in love, and even though you wanted to blame him for everything, it wasn’t his fault. There are some things you can’t control.

“Can… can I meet him?’, you asked, surprising not only Satan but yourself. Why would you want to meet the person who took from you your first love? But, as Satan looked at you, dumbfounded, you understood why you asked it. “I… I want to make sure it’s real," you whispered, and whether Satan heard you or not, you didn’t know, he simply nodded and dodged behind the computer, muffling the speaker with his hands.

Although you couldn't make out the words, it was obvious that a conversation was being held. Your heart sank a little more when you realized that the guy - Yoosungi - had been there the whole time, listening to you and Satan talking. You wondered, sluggishly, if he had been there in your past video calls, if, during the times he looked away from the camera, Satan had been looking at him.

There was a thump, some shuffling, and a boy showed up on the screen. He was shorter than Satan by a head, blonde hair falling over his eyebrows. His eyes were drawn, beautiful and slanted, adorned by thick lashes that contrast his milky white skin. He was gorgeous, you had to admit, and your heart shattered a bit more at that. He looked nervous, picking at the sleeve of his black sweater. It had the logo of the university in white, and you thought you’ve seen Satan wearing it on a skype session you had a few weeks before, but at that moment, you weren’t sure of anything. Satan slipped into the frame, next to the boy, and looked at him, deep affection seeping through his facade. He looked uncomfortable and unsure, fumbling with the charm on his necklace, and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Y/N… this is Yoosung," he glanced between the both of you, biting at the skin on his bottom lips, a small cut bleeding in it, but he licked it away.

“H-hi," Yoosung said, cautiously, waving slightly at you. He fixed his posture, moving away from Satan slightly - probably for your comfort -, and smiled shyly, stealing glances at you, but mostly keeping his eyes on the floor.

“Hi…," you forced the word out, trying to remember how to speak, and he seemed a bit more relieved to see you weren’t screaming, “N-nice to meet you," you said, even though it wasn’t the truth, but you knew Yoosung wasn’t at fault for falling for Satan - you knew how easy it was to be charmed by the boy, and how nice and caring he was - and was even less at fault for Satan falling for him.

There was an uncomfortable silence, the almost palpable tension lingering in the air, before Satan cleared his throat again, smiling at Yoosung, “Uh… Yoosung is in the music program too," he said, obviously hoping to break the ice. You tried thinking of something to say to that, mind going blank, but before you could answer, Yoosung cut through the silence that was settling again.

“I’m sorry," it’s all he said, but you understood. You nodded slowly, fixing your eyes on his for the first time.

“It’s okay," the words flowed out of your mouth before you could think them through, raw and sincere. As much as you were hurting, and you felt like you’d never be okay again, Satan looked happy, the happiest you’ve seen him in a long time, and that’s what mattered.

Yoosung nodded, lips pursed, before mouthing a soft “Thank you”. You found yourself smiling, even if it was a sad one because they both looked genuinely relieved. Satan didn’t say anything, watching the exchange quietly, glance shifting from you to Yoosung and then back. He didn’t even move. It was the quietest you’ve ever seen him, and even though it only helped to settle the realness of the situation, even more, it seemed fitting. You all glanced at each other, none of you speaking. Yoosung’s eyes lingered in Satan and he smiles automatically, before batting the other’s hand away from the charm. He mumbled something that you couldn't understand completely but sounded like a slight scowl, and Satan chuckled lightly, catching Yoosung’s hand in his. He seemed to realize that, then, looking back at you in shock. There was a dead second before lowered their hands - Yoosung looking sorry and ashamed, and Satan looking apologetically - but even if they were out of frame, you knew they kept them together.

“Y/N, I…," Satan spoke up, then, but seemed to not know what to say. He took a deep breath, looking at you, “I’m so sorry”

“I know," you said, smiling softly, and his shoulders slumped visibly, “But I also know it’s not just a fling. I know you," you spoke truthfully, and he looked at you, thankful.

“I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday," he said, slowly. His eyes didn’t leave yours, and for some reason, you thought that was better. You wanted to see the emotion in his eyes, one last confirmation that this was real, “You’ll always be a special person to me, and a huge part of my story. I love you. But...”

“But not in the way I love you," you concluded, and he glanced down, taking another deep breath.

“Not anymore," his voice was whispered, soft, low and intimate. “I did, though, love you in that way," he added. It was a confession, even though his eyes are still glued to the floor, “But…”

“Life changes, Sat. I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’m okay, because I’m not, but believe me when I say I wish you both luck," you glanced at him, and then at Yoosung, “I hope you’re very happy together”

Satan smiled, then, as big and bright as you remembered his smile to be, and thanked you. Yoosung smiled too, although more reserved, and you nodded once more, looking through the both of them one last time.

“You’re welcome," you pulled the computer closer to you on your lap. It was a bit rude, but you were ready to put an end to that conversation. Your limbs felt heavy and you could already feel a headache forming. The tears you were holding back and exhaustion the of the past half hour finally catching up to you, making your throat sore and sight foggy, your hands trembling as you unplugged the computer from the wall, and faked one more quick smile at them, “I should go”

“Yes... one more time, I’m sorry," Satan said. He looked apprehensive, maybe wondering if you’d be okay but too scared to ask, and you shook your head lightly.

“Don’t be," your voice was already heavy, stained with the tears that would fall as soon as you shut your laptop, and he nodded knowingly. You took a deep breath, biting your lip to keep from crying as you ended the call. The screen went black, announcing that you had been disconnected, and you shut the app as quickly as possible. teras logged up in your throat as you were met with the picture of you and Satan smiling happily that you had as screensaver stared at you, mockingly. You shut your computer with more strength than needed, holding back a shriek, and threw it on the ar Y/N hair next to your bed. It landed with a loud thud, but you didn’t bother checking it, it could break for all you cared, you didn’t want to have to look at the picture ever again. You breathed in on your bed, head replaying the entire call over and over in a numbness moment before the pain came, all at once, hitting you in the face with cold, gruesome truth. Your head lolled down as you hugged your pillow, no longer having the strength to hold back your tears.

Masterlist

#obey me!#obey me #obey me satan #obey me fanfic #satan x reader #angst #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #satan x mc #obey me satan fanfic

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chappedandfadedvds · 4 years ago

Text

Nov 18th, Wednesday 14:48

„But as I said earlier, it may not even be effective. The preferred outcome would let us obtain a couple weeks additionally for you and your family. Yet to be clear, chances are, at best, slim.“

Dr. Henin sat across, the thick case file of his mother opened in the middle between them on the desk. Showing charts and spreadsheets that Jens couldn’t possibly decipher even if he wanted to. So he stared in the general direction of the papers instead, holding his mothers hand in his lap, as she had reached for him not long ago.

„I would also like to add, as opposed to summer given the regulations, you would need to stay at the hospital for the whole 2 weeks I’d set for treatment and tests. We can not risk you having to commune between home and here every day. Not with the requiering therapy in work.“

His mom was watching him, when Jens looked over, trying to see what she would want for herself. He’d accept it anyway, no matter what would come.

No one was speaking for a long moment, as she considered her desicion. Til Dr. Henin’s voice once more filled the room. Jens was quite certain that in the last hour, his mom and him, mostly him, barely had managed to get a single word out. They were both sunken deep into concentrating on what the woman infront of them tried to convey to the two unlucky souls.

„You won’t have to decide now. But I’d need your plans on how to advance from here on monday. Latest. I did notice a very faint yellowish colouring of your skin when you entered, Mrs. Stoffels. Nothing yet strongly concerning, but an foreboding sign nonetheless. And you’ve lost a lot of weight since september. If we are very lucky, we can halt it for a little while longer.“

Jens and his mom were still captivated in their shared gaze as they nodded acknowledging the vague suggestion swinging in Dr. Henin’s words. Jens wasn’t sure if they communicated anything by watching each other, but it did spent them some solace. At least they weren’t alone with the knowledge.

„I’ll call you then on monday?“ His mother asked, turning away from him, to look back at Dr. Henin, so Jens followed her lead. What else was he supposed to do? He was just here to listen, to hopefully get the slightest grip on an idea of the current state and it’s outcome. Though he wished, he wouldn’t have to be here at times.

„That’s fine by me. Still my advise would be to call as soon as you can, any day earlier gives us perhaps a bit more ground to work on. I’m here over the weekend. I’m so sorry, I can’t do more for you.“ The woman said, as she specifically turned towards Jens. He was unable to speak, like he had almost been for an hour, leaving the two actual adults in the room to talk themselves.

„If you are able to, make sure your mother eats something at least, as always preferably no red meats, and instead soft foods should help. You know the drill, I’m afraid.“

„Of course.“ Jens found himself confirm, as Dr. Henin tried for an encouraging smile. That fell completely flat, when Jens wasn’t able to bring himself to feel and look anything else than sad and tired. He barely had slept last night after having come home. His mind running circles on what had happened between Robbe and him. He surprisingly hadn’t cried or panicked again, which was a plus in his books. He just hadn’t slept over more than an hour.

„Good. Never forget though, that not just your mother should eat and rest, but you as well.“

Maybe his exhaustion wasn’t as subtle as he had thought it to be, so he nodded again and helped his mother to get into her coat, after all three of them had stood up.

„I’ll see you soon then.“ Dr. Henin told them, walking around the table to see them out. She was looking sympathically at the couple infront of her. Pity. Jens wasn’t sure if he wanted it in order to feel his and his mother’s awful situation recognised, or instead rather punch it out of her face. True, it was a bit agressive and definitely an exaggeration on his side. The feeling nonetheless lingered there. He felt almost helpless to his state.

„Thank you so much, doctor. As always.“ His mother’s voice was weak, Jens couldn’t tell if it came with her emotional or physical exhaustion. Perhaps both. So he placed his hand on her lower back for support. And just in case to have a better chance of keeping her from falling.

„Yes, thank you. Have a good day.“ Jens bid his good bye, stirring his mother around to lead her down the empty hospital’s hallway. Only occasionally did they pass a stranger or nurse. It felt oddly silent, their steps echoing eerily, as the white walls encompassed them.

„You too.“ The voice behind reached them just before they left the wing and then the thud of a closing door followed not long after.

„Damn. I could go for a smoke. Will you join this old mother of yours?“ It was the first time today that for some miraculous reason his face responded with a smirk, as he listened to her sudden suggestion.

„The best thing I’ve heard all day.“ He responded excitedly, hearing her snorting next to him. Obviously the bar wasn’t set very high to be met.

The heavieness of the hospital fell away as they stepped out of the building and onto the parking lot. He took a deep breath, ready to get into the car and drive them home. He knew that his mother probably carried a joint with her. But driving a car while high and only having his licence for a couple of month seemed a bit much reckless and stupid. And illegal. So they would have to be patient for a little while longer.

Lotte was being picked up with Olivia by Lars aynway. Thank god. So she wouldn’t be home til after dinner. That left enough hours for Jens and his mother to lie on the sofa, watch some boring show and smoke til they would be englufed in a pleasent feeling of numbing lightness.

Sounded like heaven to him, if one would ask.

He also had been excused for all classes by his teachers. Which meant no consequences for laziness on his end today, and further, no other obligations. Laundry was done, Leftovers from yesterday waiting in the fridge.

Fuck yes. __ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

#week 4 #wtfock #skam #vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #chapped and faded #fucking hospitals man

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maandags · 5 years ago

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maybe if he’d come back earlier everything would have been fine.

it wasn’t even in the middle of the night, like you’d read in the stories, or how you’d see in the films, where the long-lost lover finds their way back to the one they’d left behind and shows up on their doorstep at two in the morning, rousing them from their sleep.

no, it was a regular saturday afternoon, two p.m. instead of two a.m, and he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and the only thing that had visibly changed about him was the fact that his hair had gotten longer–and there also was a scar on his cheek. and one at the base of his neck. and another one cutting through his hairline. you wondered how many more old wounds his clothes hid.

“y/n,” Matt Holt said, and his voice had the audacity to sound like that–soft and relieved and full of sadness and on the verge of breaking–and you had never wanted to punch someone more.

you nodded, lips puckering out, and walked right past him, pulling the door shut behind you and making sure to clip his shoulder. you didn’t think you imagined the hurt flashing across his face. your hand didn’t even tremble when you shoved your keys into your car door, even though your vision was hazy.

you left him standing on your driveway, and you didn’t think you saw him move at all until he was out of your rear mirror’s sights.

–

he came back twice after that, and you closed the door in his face both times. it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore him–but he’d been missing for years, and you’d only just come to terms with him truly being gone. you’d only just accepted the fact that you really would never fall asleep in his arms again, and that you’d never hear the soft wobble of his voice first thing in the morning. you’d only just started to get whatever was left of your life back together.

you guessed you had been supposed to fly into his arms whenever he had first walked up to your front door. that was what the dainty and abandoned lover giddy with happiness would have done. in the stories. in the fairytales. where the prince saves the princess and they get a happy ending.

but you’d long ago realised that your life was no fairytale. that sometimes you didn’t get to have a happy ending.

when you’d gotten word of Matt disappearing, you had refused to even consider the possibility of him being dead despite the pitiful looks and awkward pats on the shoulder you’d received from your co-workers. lost in space, you remembered telling yourself over and over whenever you’d wake from another nightmare in which Matt’s corpse would be dumped on your doorstep. not dead. lost in space.

lost and found.

–

this time was different. it was in fact late at night when he returned, wringing his hands and his eyes cloudy. you narrowed your eyes at him from where you sat on the bench on your porch, pulling the quilt you’d lugged out closer around you and starting to get up, gathering up your mug of tea. you spared him one flitting look before reaching for the doorknob, but your hand froze in mid-air when he said, “please stop doing that.”

you didn’t turn. “doing what?”

“you know what. avoiding me. you won’t even look at me.”

it was true, of course. it hurt to look at him, to see him whole and very much alive and wonder what he saw when he looked at you.

“i don’t owe you anything.”

“i know. but i was hoping–i don’t know. i’m sorry.”

your hand came to rest on the doorknob, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn it. instead you forced the words you’d been mulling over in your head for days to slip past your lips. “sorry for what? for disappearing on a mission i told you not to go on? for making me cry myself to sleep every night for years, thinking if i’d just been more insistant, just pushed a little harder, you would still have been here with me?” you barked out a bitter laugh. “Matt, you died years ago. you shouldn’t have come back.”

–

the worst part was that you knew it wasn’t his fault.

logically, of course. he couldn’t have controlled being kidnapped by aliens–it was all over the news. he and his team were a world-wide sensation–but you had been telling yourself for so long that he wouldn’t come back, and now that he had… it just felt fake, somehow.

no, that wasn’t it. your entire world had been snatched out from beneath you, and you hated feeling this helpless, powerless, everything spiralling out of your control. the careful lies you’d built to help you get through the days had been shattered in one word–your name from his lips.

you hated how he made you feel–how he still made you feel, even after you promised yourself you’d move on. you hated how in the small hours of the night you lay awake, wondering if he’d still feel the same way he used to, wanting to map his body out beneath your fingertips once more. rediscovering.

you hated the feeling of falling all over again.

–

and then you were standing in front of his house.

you didn’t know why your feet had felt the need to lead you all the way to the other side of town, to the house you’d been actively trying to avoid for years. but you had a feeling it was maybe time to start facing it.

you hadn’t had a nightmare as bad as the one you’d had this night in a long time. and you hadn’t woken screaming and crying, but dazed. numb. limbs feeling heavy enough that they seemed to sink right through the mattress, pulling you along with them. suffocating. suffocating. you needed air.

Matt had always been your air.

you weren’t even sure if he’d be home, but then you saw his silhouette moving behind his bedroom window, and the breath was knocked right out of you as you were flung into the past.

“i can see you when you’re undressing. you know that, right. you need to move to another spot.”

he’d smile that crooked grin of his. “you don’t like seeing me undress?”

“i never said i didn’t. i just don’t like it when you undress in front of the whole damn street.” you’d huff out a breath, tugging at his jean’s belt loops. he’d flush a deep crimson, as he always did whenever you turned his own cheeky flirting against him. you leaned close to his ear, letting your lips barely brush his jaw. “that’s for only me to see.”

he turned, and you locked eyes. without a word, you spun on your heel and marched out of the street.

–

it was almost like you’d coordinated it.

you didn’t know what had caused you to take the detour to your tree. Matt and your tree. the swings hung from the same place they always had, and Matt was seated on one of them, using his feet to rock himself back and forth. he cocked his head when he spotted you, but his once-soft brown eyes were dark–darker than they should have been. it was a sunny day. if you closed your eyes, you could recall the exact shade of his eyes on a sunny day.

you took your seat beside him, and for a moment when neither of you spoke, it almost felt right.

“don’t apologise.” you couldn’t say how you’d known he was going to apologise, but you just knew, because you knew him.

“i’m still going to.” his voice was almost swept away by the wind, and yet you found yourself drawn to it like a moth to flame. “i’ll apologise as many times as i need to.”

“what for?” it was an echo of one of the first things you’d said to him since he’d been back. sorry for what? except this time, you actually meant it. you were curious as to what he thought he needed to be sorry for.

“for letting you down, mostly, i guess. for making the wrong choices every time. for not listening to you when i should have. for hurting you as much as i did–even though i might not have been able to do anything about it.”

despite everything, you found yourself shaking your hand. “we all make bad choices. i know i did. i tried to erase you completely from my life. rebuild a new one–one where you never were.” you shrugged awkwardly, only vaguely remarking you had subconsciously synced your swing’s rocking with his. “that was my big mistake. i should have cherished the memories i did have instead of pushing you away completely.”

his fingers twitched as if they were itching to grab yours. you knew yours were. “i would probably have done the same.” you knew it was true.

it was nice to just enjoy each other’s presence for a while, rocking on your swings and keeping your thoughts to yourself. you slowly let yourself grow used to his presence again, thought the fear–that one day you’d wake up and find him gone again, and that you wouldn’t be able to handle it–remained.

when the sun started to dip behind the houses, and you stood up to leave, he called after you. “y/n?” you turned, shoulders tense. “you’re the only good choice i’ve ever made.”

–

why were you crying? you had no reason to be crying, but before your muddy mind could comprehend what you were doing you’d picked up the phone and dialled Matt’s number with shaky fingers. maybe just hearing his voice would be enough to calm the nerves rolling in painful waves inside you. a mere second after he picked up, Matt said, “i’m on my way.”

you’d crashed into his arms the second he crossed your doorstep, and you cursed yourself for being so weak. but without a moment of hesitation he’d wrapped his arms around you, and he was stroking your back the way he used to do when you’d get upset. you had half a mind to collapse to the floor, but managed to keep that small amount of control to yourself.

“hey, hey, it’s okay,” he mumbled. you drank the words up eagerly, willing them true. “everything’s fine.”

it was. everything was fine. “i don’t ever want to feel this way again. i don’t want to have to be told that you’re gone again only for you to show up years later.” you took a shaky breath; your voice broke. “i don’t want to lose you again.”

he’d gotten taller. and more muscular. you felt them tense beneath your touch. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you looked up, and from his eyes shone nothing but truth. light brown, soft like caramel. the colour of every good thing in this world.

he kissed you, and with every second he held you in his arms you felt yourself learn to breathe again.

#matt holt x reader #matt x reader #matt vld x reader #matt holt voltron #matt holt vld #voltron matt holt #voltron matt x reader #vld matt x reader #vld matt holt #i posted so much today yeet #@aticus youre a bitch #i hope u like

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onwardintolight · 5 years ago

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Han x Leia, ESB, Trip to Bespin, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: ESB from Leia's POV. A journey from despair to hope, a blossoming, an opening to vulnerability and love.

Warnings: Deals with some heavy themes, incl. working through trauma, depression, self-harm, attempted sexual assault. Each chapter will be individually warned.

Note: I’m currently in the process of reposting the first nine chapters here in full, since when I first wrote this fic, I only shared links to the chapters on AO3 and FFN. I will try to post at least weekly. In the meantime, if you’d prefer to binge-read it, the entire fic is posted in full on AO3 and FFN.

Part: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Epilogue

~~~

Author’s note from 1/2020:

Wow. Where to begin? I can hardly believe that after almost three and a half years, The Opening is finally coming to end. A HUGE thank you to all of you who have supported me, whether in those early days of writing or recently as I've been posting. Your encouragement and responses have kept me going when I felt like giving up and have given me more joy than I can possibly express.

This fic has meant so very much to me, more than words can say. It is Leia's story, but it is also my story. I've poured out my entire heart and soul into it, and in turn it's helped me heal. I hope that even a tiny bit of that encouragement spills over to you, even if it's just the knowledge that it's okay to not be okay. Struggling doesn't make you weak—just the opposite. Healing is a long journey, but it is possible. Hope always wins.

If you finish this and would like more, my one-shot Found is a companion piece of sorts—a happy, final epilogue after what's lost has been found again.

You can also check out the soundtrack I made to go with this fic here!

Again, thank you so much for going on this journey with me. May we all open ourselves more and more.

~~~

Epilogue

She talked to Luke before they reached the Alliance; she waited until he was awake again and starting to ask questions. The look of shock, horror, and grief on his face when she told him about Han nearly made her weep all over again. Soon, though, he was all determination, somehow her sun once more despite the pain that still haunted the hollows of his face. “We’ll get him back, Leia,” he said, grasping her hand in his remaining one. His eyes flickered to the side, staring unseeing at a spot on the wall. “We’ve got to trust the Force,” he murmured.

The Force. She closed her eyes, prepared to swallow down a wave of bitterness that never came. Instead, she was left with a vague sense of emptiness, sadness, and confusion. Perhaps it was their nothing-short-of-miraculous escape from Bespin that had softened her resentment. The Force had certainly seemed to… intervene, somehow, what with that vision she’d had of Luke. She let out a breath.

Was he right? Could the Force be trusted? Was the Force truly, as her parents had told her—as she herself had once believed—at work in the galaxy, ensuring hope and light would never be fully lost? Luke seemed determined to think so, despite whatever he had suffered; despite whatever heaviness he wore on his heart that made her fear he might crumple.

Relating what had happened to Alliance Intelligence and the few present members of High Command after their arrival on the Remembrance was just as difficult as her conversation with Luke and far less rewarding. She was quizzed about every aspect of their escape from Hoth and their subsequent ordeal on Bespin. She found she couldn’t look anyone in the eyes as she told them about the particular torture methods the Empire had used this time, both sanctioned and unsanctioned. And it took every ounce of her resolve to keep from breaking down as she relayed what had happened to Han.

For a moment, her eyes darted across the table to Rieekan. He was looking at her with such sorrow, understanding, and compassion that she somehow wanted to both shrink away from him and fall crying into his arms like she’d once done with her parents as a little girl. He caught up with her in the hallway afterwards as she walked back to the Falcon to grab her things. “Leia,” he said, “If you need anything—if there’s anything I can do—”

“Thank you, Carlist,” she replied, echoing his informality.

He paused. “I know Intelligence wasn’t too happy about Chewbacca and Calrissian’s plans to leave for Tatooine, but I want you to know I’m behind them all the way.” He lowered his voice. “Han Solo was a good man,” he said, his eyes piercing Leia with a meaningful stare. “Don’t give up hope. We’ll do what we can.”

Nodding, she swallowed down the lump in her throat. She doubted the Alliance would ever be able to spare the resources to mount a rescue operation for one person, but she appreciated Rieekan’s support anyway.

“For so long I thought… I thought…” He stopped, shaking his head, and smiled at her wistfully. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

She smiled back at him. It felt foreign—had she smiled at all since Bespin?—but somehow her heart felt a little warmer.

After she had located her packing crates from Hoth and moved into her new quarters, she headed for the conference room she had reserved for her meeting with Luke, Chewie, and Lando. Their plan didn’t take long to formulate—by necessity, it wasn’t much of one; not yet. Chewie and Lando would scout ahead on Tatooine, locate Han, and figure out what they were up against. When the time was right, Luke and Leia would join them for the extraction. If High Command will let me, Leia thought cynically. If I let me. She was already feeling the pull of her duty to the Alliance and, along with it, the familiar impulse to sacrifice all personal desires.

She frowned, remembering where that impulse had gotten her in the past. She’d had no hope, then—for the Alliance, yes, but not for herself. It had not gotten her far. While she would still gladly lay down her life for the Rebellion, she could no longer neglect the things that made life worth living in the first place.

Somehow, she’d have to fight for both. She’d just have to figure out how.

~~~

The next day, after giving Chewie a goodbye hug—«Take good care of yourself, Little Princess,» he had said—she headed to Luke’s room in the medbay.

It was still too soon, she knew, for them to talk much about what had happened. Aside from the knowledge that he had fought Vader on Cloud City, she still didn’t know the details about what haunted him, and she didn’t ask. Likewise, she didn’t yet feel able to tell him about what had blossomed between her and Han on the trip to Bespin. Somehow, though, she felt that he already knew, and that comforted her.

Mostly, they were silent, taking solace in each other’s nearness. Now, in their suffering, they seemed to understand each other more than they ever had before.

The medical droid returned to activate the brand new prosthetic hand Luke had received the night before. Leia watched, mildly intrigued, as it ran a series of tests to ensure the hand had been calibrated correctly.

Artoo and Threepio, now whole, gleaming, and happily reunited, had come to visit, too. They stood uncharacteristically silent in front of the large window, looking out on the newborn solar system nearby. The protostar at the center burst with brilliant light, illuminating the vast clouds of dust and matter that ringed it. It was a spectacular sight.

Once again, Leia wondered at the depth of the droids’ sentience. Emotion and appreciation for beauty were not things one normally expected in a droid… but then again, homesickness and a longing for companionship weren’t, either, and she had learned that lesson well to the contrary.

“Luke,” Lando’s voice broke through the comm, “we’re ready for takeoff.”

“Good luck, Lando,” he replied.

“When we find Jabba the Hutt and that bounty hunter, we’ll contact you.”

“I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point on Tatooine.”

“Princess,” Lando said, his voice growing somber, “we’ll find Han. I promise.”

Another rush of emotion filled her at Han’s name. There’d been so many of those lately, threatening her with sudden tears, and she hated it. Better this than being numb and hopeless, she thought. Better this than never having loved him.

“Chewie, I’ll be waiting for your signal,” Luke was saying. “Take care you two. May the Force be with you.”

«Until our branches entwine again, cubs,» said Chewie. «I won’t be around to rip the arms off your enemies for awhile, so don’t get into too much trouble!”

Leia almost laughed, and Luke grinned back at her.

She missed Han’s laugh.

Her smile fading, she walked over to the window. He was out there, somewhere. The distance between them seemed impossibly far, the search impossibly long. There was a chance he was already gone forever. There was an aching hole in her heart that she wasn’t sure could ever be healed.

Luke came up beside her, and she glanced at him.

He knew. He understood.

He wrapped his arm around her, his new hand gently squeezing her shoulder. She leaned into him, taking a deep breath.

Whatever happened, she would be brave. She would love. She would live.

She would open herself up to a galaxy of hope.

And someday, she told herself, it would all be worth it.

It was worth it already.

The Millennium Falcon rose in front of them, soaring away into the stars.

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8osbabe · 5 years ago

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bby do u have any hcs for my boy Tim Shepard

baby yes i do...

-.-.-.-

his mother used to get drunk and sob that he wasn’t any good at showing affection. he’s not sure if she was talking sense, or maybe he just didn’t love her like he was supposed to.

he’s closer to curly than angela, mostly because he doesn’t try to boss curly around as much.

he cracks his knuckles a lot, especially when he’s unsure of himself.

never really styles his hair the same way. some days it’s just greased back, other days it kicks out in the front. his hair is an interesting texture, maybe the shepards’ most notable feature, and he usually just lets it do what it wants.

he’s proud of what he’s built, and he doesn’t long for any greater purpose. he’s never had the ambition or delusions of getting out of their town that some other greasers have. he thinks this is their lot in life, unfair maybe, but it’s inescapable and he’s done the most he can.

he’d never want to be a soc. if it would mean trading in his morals for some money, he thinks the trade off is too high.

speaking of which, he has an elevated view of his own morals that isn’t always....accurate.

he abides by a pretty strict set of rules he sets for himself. if curly ever embarrassed him or threatened his status, he would jump him there and then. nothing personal, just the way things have to be.

he’s the resident sad drunk of whatever group he goes out in. if tim drinks a few too many he’ll start sulking in corners and talking deep nonsense none of his friends understand.

he doesn’t ever really cry. not because he tries not to, but he never feels the need.

he doesn’t know his own strength. he feels numb inside sometimes and he knows it could get dangerous.

he doesn’t grow a lot of facial hair. it was one of those things curly would make fun of him for growing up, right up until curtly realized he was doomed to the same fate of not being able to grow any kind of beard.

he’s pretty style conscious. other greasers don’t really waste their time stealing clothes, but tim is always on the lookout for a tuff jacket or matching shoes.

he’s a light sleeper, a fact that he’s rather proud of. nothing sneaks up on this guy.

he likes dating smart girls, though he usually ends up making good friends out of all of his girlfriends, instead of ever keeping them.

both tim and dally were tough and rebellious, but dallas was far more of a chaotic loose canon where tim was all strategy and and by the books. tim saw dallas as too much of a risk, a wild card, and doesn’t really hang around him too much except when they fight.

tim has a good memory, he remembers everything. when everyone in the town has left or stayed and tried to erase everything that’s happened, tim is the ultimate source for what’s happened of it all.

youngsters who were brave enough would ask him about it, but few were successful in getting anything out of them. he’d said they weren’t “worth it.”

he works at a pool house when they start running out of money, and eventually buys it off of the retiring owner for a bargain.

he re-names it something that vaguely pays homage to dallas winston, but nobody’s ever had the guts to ask.

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #tim shepard #sophia if you’re reading this im sorry i went to bed for an hour then woke up oops

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thdorkmagnet · 5 years ago

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For the First Time in Forever (Star is Anna AU)

Summary: A series of one-shots and multi-chapters proving why Star Butterfly should be considered a Disney Princess, as Star and company take over the roles of all your favorite Disney Princess characters! (Starco inevitable)

Check out my other stuff on Fanfiction!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. Frozen belongs to Disney. All rights go to their respective owners.

"Meteora!" Star yelled into the blizzard, her voice quivering as her body shook from the freezing chill. She slowly trudged her way through snow bank after snow bank, while the heavy, numbing wind tried it's best to freeze her in place. Still she pushed her shaking form on, trying to focus on finding her sister, instead of the biting chill that had frozen everything from her toes to her face. "Meteora! Meteora, where are you?!" She screamed, her breath fogged and her breathing labored, every step heavier than the last. She ran her hands up and down her arms trying to create some form of warmth but never with any success. It didn't help that she hadn't changed before foolishly deciding to face the elements on a long trek through the countryside meaning she was still wearing her regular sea green dress, purple and orange leggings, and purple boots, none of which had equipped her for the cold weather, only the thin velvet cape she had been given provided her any sort of warmth, but even it did very little against the freezing wind.

"Ugh, look I'm sorry okay!" Star tried again, quickly losing patience with her sister and her very problematic powers. "I shouldn't have said those things! But you were being difficult!" At her raised tone, another chill jumped down her spine, making her body shake even more. "I mean," she quickly backtracked. "We both made mistakes so maybe please come out so we can talk about this?"

There was no response and Star merely shivered and began muttering under her breath, "Stupid snow. Stupid Meteora. If she had just told me about her powers instead of exploding out of nowhere than none of this would be happening. But noooo she just had to lock herself away and keep secrets from me." Star sighed, hurt crossing her face for a second, before she tripped over a branch hidden in the snow and fell flat on her face. She quickly sat up, yelling to the sky, "Ugh why did it have to snow?!"

How had her day turned around like this? Today was supposed to be amazing, today was supposed to be special but not like this, it was supposed to be the best day of her life. Instead it had turned into one of the worst and it was all because of her sister's secret. The blond picked herself back up, her body now covered in snow as she continued through the blizzard, her body shuddering more and more with every step as she thought back over the events that had led her to here.

…

For about as long as Star could remember she had been alone.

Sure for the first several years of her childhood she had had her sister to keep her company and play with. Meteora was always so much fun and she could recall all their good times together like they were yesterday. Even though Star was a few years younger than her, Meteora was always so nice and helpful to her needs, playing with her and being there for her whenever she needed her and Star cherished those memories more than anything. She could still remember waking her sister up in the middle of the nigh to drag her outside and build a snowman for no reason other than she wanted to and her sister willingly complying, smiling and giggling along with her as they stayed up into the late hours of the night.

Until one day, Meteora locked herself in her room and never came out. At first, Star thought she was just sick and after a week of waiting for her to get better and asking her parents as many questions about what was wrong with her as possible (only to ever receive a vague answer), she realized that her sister wasn't ill, she just didn't to leave her room for some reason.

That was when Star had changed tactics and had began a daily ritual of knocking on her door and begging her to come outside and play with her, listing every activity she could think of to get her to agree, only to either be ignored or turned away. But Star was not one to quit so easily, she stayed persistent hoping to spark some kind of reaction out of her other than rejection, and as her boredom and loneliness grew, so did her desperation and determination. Still nothing worked and so Star spent most of her days laying around the castle trying to entertain herself and fight the losing battle against her greatest nemesis: boredom.

On top of that, she wasn't even allowed to leave the castle, the gates which once stayed open were now closed and sealed tight. Her mother and father were always busy, the few servants they kept in the castle kept to themselves mostly, and Meteora... well she was just a lost cause.

And it stayed like this for years and years until Star was convinced that this was just the way it was, this was just her life. She stopped knocking on her sister's door, most of the time avoiding her wing of the castle altogether, because as much as she tried not to let it bother her, it hurt every time she knocked and received no answer other than a short, “Go away, Star!”

In fact the very last time she had knocked on her sister's door at all was the day of her parent's funeral.

They had announced that they were leaving on a trip and would be gone for two weeks. Star had been sad to see them go, but was used to being alone by now so it didn't really bug her that much that they wouldn't be there at the castle. She could still remember giving them each a tight hug and saying brightly, “See you in two weeks, guys!”

It was a few nights later when she received the news that her parent's ship had sunk. She had been devastated, her entire world shattering around her as she struggled to cope with the loss of her beloved mom and dad. And in her lowest moment imaginable, feeling empty and broken and so lost she felt a massive weight on her chest that seemed to be pressing down on her making it difficult to breathe, she had gone to the only person she had left: her sister Meteora. She knocked only once, fighting back tears as she begged one last time for her to come out, telling her how much she needed her and how she was there for her and to please not shut her out and just let her in. But when she received no answer Star had just collapsed against the door, crying and weeping, no longer able to hold back the pain and sorrow she felt coming to her in waves. But as she wept she could almost swear she heard soft sobbing from the other side of the door, and there was nothing she could do about it.

A few more years passed until at last Meteora was 18, finally old enough to take the throne. Star (now 15 years old herself) was ecstatic about her sister's coronation day. Cause with that day promised the thing she had been dreaming about for so many years... the gates would open. And with them would come a flood people, not just from town but from their surrounding kingdoms and after the ceremony there would even be a ball to celebrate their new ruler's rise to the throne.

Star had been giddy, telling her favorite paintings (so she talked to pictures on the wall, so what?) all about her plans for the big day. Her imagination ran wild as she envisioned every possible dream scenario she could cook up, most of them ending with her falling in love with a handsome stranger. And as the days ticked by at their ever slow pace, Star's eagerness only grew.

Finally, the day arrived and Star had been up bright and early, energetically bouncing around the castle as the servants rushed to get ready around her. She couldn't keep her enthusiasm contained, especially as she heard the order being called out for the gates to be opened. She had raced outside, waving to the large crowd of guests as they passed, standing on the railing of the bridge leading to the castle and walking along it as she took in every smiling and excited face that passed. The only face she hadn't seen smiling, in fact, was a little man (who she later learned was named Duke Ludo of Weaseltown or something like that) he instead just had a dark and a little unnerving look on his face as he entered into the castle, surrounded by at least three guards.

But Star hadn't taken much stock of the man, her focus and attention on all the new sights and smells the village had to offer as she quickly rushed around, trying to see as much of it all as she could. She had just been running down by the harbor when she had suddenly crashed into the front of a horse, causing her to stumble back and land in an empty rowboat, sitting on the edge of the dock. “Hey, watch where your going you jerk!” Star shouted up at whoever she had just crashed to in annoyance, only to feel her cheeks light up with a blush as she saw a young man with spiky, salmon colored hair and a fancy white suit, climb down off his horse and quickly race over to check on her.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, are you alright?” he asked, offering her a hand up, but as he did the boat tilted, beginning to fall over the edge and he quickly tightened her grip on her hand, yanking her off the boat as it hit the sea below. The blond landed against his chest, before looking up at the pair of gorgeous red eyes he had, lost for words for a second, even as he pushed her away, now holding her at arm's length. “Well that was a real close one,” he joked, chuckling awkwardly to try and diffuse the uncomfortable tension that had formed. Star however, was incapable of responding, stumbling around for words that seemed to be lost on her at the moment. She ended up only babbling out incoherent nonsense that caused the boy to raise an eyebrow at her weird behavior. “Uhhh, do you need me to get you a doctor or something, cause your kinda not making any sense?” he hesitantly asked.

Star finally got a hold of herself as she stumbled out, “Oh, n-no-no, I'm fine.”

“Well, I-I'm really sorry for running into you back there, I didn't see you,” the boy apologized, shooting her a very remorseful look.

“Oh that,” Star said, before scoffing and waving a hand in the air, trying to shrug off the whole situation. “Don't worry about it. I've taken way worse. I'm totally good. In fact, I'm better than good, I'm...” she paused to sigh dreamily. “...great even.”

The boy merely smiled in return before saying, “Well that's cool to hear, my name is Prince Tom of the Southern Isles.” He bowed and Star did a loose curtsey in reply.

“Star Butterfly,” she said simply, but Tom quickly gasped.

“The princess?” he exclaimed, before dropping down onto one knee in respect. “Your Majesty, I'm sorry for not recognizing you sooner.”

“Oh, no, no, you don't have to do that,” Star assured the prince, grabbing his arm and helping him stand. “Just Star is fine. You don't have to be formal around me.”

“Okay then, how about I just call you Starship from now on,” he said in an almost flirty tone and Star quickly blushed.

“You can call me whatever you want,” she said shyly, folding her hand behind her back.

“Great then, I guess I'll see you later at the coronation,” the boy said and Star nodded dumbly.

“Yeah, guess you will,” she sighed, still lost in his eyes.

“Cool.”

And with that, the two had departed, leaving Star in a lovesick daze. The next time she had seen him was at the coronation, though he had looked annoyed from his seat in the front row, since he had two people asleep next to him, using each shoulder as an arm rest and drooling on him the whole time. He seemed about ready to shove them off when Star had caught his eye and a smile had crossed his face as he waved to her, which she returned eagerly.

Meteora had been a bit tense, Star remembered thinking, as she stood next at the front of the large room. A choir was singing their national anthem while the young woman looked liked she might puke at any moment. Star had just chocked it up to anxiety though, after all she did shut herself off from the world, so clearly being around people must make her uncomfortable... even if one of those people was her own sister. She had even noticed her sister's hands shaking as she took the scepter and the small orb (which was always used for the coronation for some reason) into her hands. She had stood still as a statue as the priest went into his whole speech in their native tongue about crowning her and whatnot before the crown was placed on her head and the crowd began clapping and cheering for their new queen. Star wasn't a bit surprised as her sister almost threw the objects back onto their sacred pillow and slipped her gloves back on with a relieved sigh. She did always have this weird thing about dirt.

After that, things continued to go smoothly as the crowd quickly emptied into the ballroom, where a cheerful and pleasant party began. As soon as Star had entered, she had been swept away by a guard who decided it was a great idea to position her right next to her sister and for a minute the two just stood awkwardly next to each other struggling to find something to say. Meteora kept rubbing a hand up and down her arm and didn't even seem to want to look her way, while Star just had her arms wrapped around herself. “Uh hey,” she had finally tried, figuring she could at least take the initiative and try and strike up a conversation with her sister. “Sooo, haven't seen you in a while...” Understatement of the year. “You been... good.”

Meteora nodded, a small smile dancing on her lips. “Yeah, I'm fine,” she said just as awkwardly as Star.

“Well you look good,” Star blurted out. “You look like a real queen.”

“Yeah I guess so, don't really feel much like it yet,” Meteora replied, her body seeming to relax some the more they talked which encouraged Star to move a teensy bit closer.

“Come on, your gonna do a great job at it,” Star encouraged her.

“Thanks,” her sister replied with a bright grin.

Star looked out at all the other party-goers and sighed in awe, “Woooww this is sooo cool! Can you believe we're at a real party?”

Meteora chuckled slightly and said, “Not really. Though didn't we throw a party way back in the day?”

“Oh yeah,” Star said with a grin, the memory resurfacing in her mind, though it felt a bit fuzzy, like she was having trouble holding onto it. That tended to happen a lot though whenever she thought about the old days. “It was for your birthday, right?”

Meteora was now openly laughing, a mischievous glint in her eye as she recalled the incident. “Yeah, and we ended up trashing the entire dining room because you snuck an entire heard of pigs inside.”

The two sisters shared a laugh for a moment, Star had felt her spirits rising, as a connection that she had thought had long since severed began to regrow. It felt like real progress toward rekindling their friendship. After all she wasn't running off and slamming the door shut in her face, she was actually talking to her and she felt like they were getting along. Too bad she ended up messing it all up with the very next sentence. “Man I miss those days, it's been forever since we just hung out.”

Meteora's smile dropped in an instant, the same guarded look that Star hated seeing on her replacing her pleasant grin. “Well, things are different now, it can't go back to the way things used to be,” she said her voice full of emotion that she seemed to be struggling to choke down.

“Why not?” Star asked as innocently as she could but this seemed to push Meteora over the edge as she she turned away from her sister and retorted sharply, “Because I said so.”

The blond's eyes filled with tears as she quickly excused herself in a hushed tone, walking through the crowded ballroom as she tried to put as much distance between herself and Meteora as she could. But she had been stopped by Duke Ludo who gave her what she guessed was supposed to be a smooth smile. “Milady, would you do me the honor of sharing your first dance with me?” He bowed low in front of her and Star quickly wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand as she declined him softly, “Um, no thank you, I-I can't-”

“Well why not?” Ludo insisted, looking annoyed at her refusal.

Before Star could open her mouth to try and come up with an excuse, she felt a hand land on her side and a presence appear behind her. “Because she promised her first dance to me,” Tom's voice spoke up and Star looked over her shoulder at him with surprise. He winked at her, which made her whole face blush, but she did smile back.

She turned back around to face Ludo and, playing along, shrugged and told him, “Sorry, but a promise is a promise.”

Ludo just grumbled something under his breath and stormed away, rejected. The moment he was out of earshot, Star sighed before giving Tom a deeply grateful smile. “Thanks, I didn't know what I was gonna do about him.”

“Don't mention it,” Tom said, grabbing her arm and twirling her around to face him. “Just give me that dance you owe me and we'll call it even.”

Star giggled, but complied, saying teasingly, “Well if I must.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and the other locked with his own as they moved smoothly across the dance floor. “Gotta say that was pretty noble of you Tom, coming to my rescue like that.”

“Well that is what us princes do,” he said smoothly.

Star leaned in a little closer as she asked, “You mostly did it just to annoy that Ludo guy though, didn't you?”

Tom smiled mischievously over at the small man, watching them with a death glare, before admitting, “It didn't hurt anything.”

Star laughed as the two moved in perfect sync around the ballroom.

Star and Tom pretty much hit it off after that, escaping from the hustle and bustle of the party and moving onto a quiet balcony to talk. And that's exactly what the two did, chatting and sharing their past life experiences with each other. He was quick to ask the question that almost everyone had which was about the pure white streak she had in her hair and Star was quick to explain to him that she had been born with it and that it was really no big deal. She never got why so many people focused on that, she didn't think it was really that weird.

Soon the hours began to fly by as they talked more and more and Star found out that Tom was surprisingly relatable. He too had had some bad experiences with his siblings in the past and considering he had 13 of them, boy did he have some stories to share. Eventually the two grew tired of talking and so they instead started sneaking into restricted areas of the castle and running from the guards just for the heck of it and Star found herself having a blast with the boy. Probably the most fun she had had in years.

Which why when he had caught her off guard as the two sat on the roof of the castle, just staring up at the stars, and he suddenly asked, “Okay am I crazy or do we just seem right for each other?” her instant reply had been, “Heck yeah we do.” She sighed leaning her head against his shoulder making him blush, “This has been one of the best nights of my life. I wish it would never end.”

Tom paused for a moment, looking deep in thought, while Star just enjoyed cuddling against the handsome prince. “What if... it didn't have to?” he finally said and Star instantly sat up, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Huh? Wh-What do you mean?” she asked, giving him a confused but hopeful look. She was desperate, she didn't want to be alone anymore, this night had only proved to her how starved she was for human affection of any kind and she wasn't really sure she could go back now that she had had a taste of what her life could be like. If Tom was offering her a solution then she would take it, whatever it was.

“Well, and this is probably a pretty insane idea,” he began hesitantly, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “But it wouldn't have to end if... we got married.”

Star was stunned, her body freezing up and refusing to move as she just stared at him blankly, her mind incapable of coming up with a reply. Tom watched her reaction closely and cringed, believing he had just made a huge mistake. “Oh man, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“YES!” Star screamed a second later, tackling him with a tight hug that nearly caused them both to slip off and plummet to their death, but luckily Tom was able to hold them steady for a moment.

“You mean it, you really want to,” Tom said in surprise.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” Star squealed with delight. “Let's do it, let's get married! Oh my gosh this is gonna be so great!”

“You can't get married.” That was the first thing Meteora had said when Star and Tom had gone to her asking for her blessing, giving them a deadpanned stare and speaking in a firm, no nonsense voice that left no room for arguments.

Still Star felt her whole world crumbling at this declaration as she said in shock, “What, why not?”

“Oh I don't know maybe because you know literally just met him today and know nothing about him,” Meteora hissed back, looking beyond annoyed at her sister's actions.

“I know more about him than I do you!” Star argued, her tone beginning to raise some. Meteora's face seemed to soften for a second, a hurt look appearing on her face, before she hardened it with the rest of her features.

“Well that may be but I am still your queen and you still have to do as I say,” Meteora said sharply, struggling to keep her anger down and in check.

“Not if your rule makes no sense, admit it you just want to take away my one chance at happiness because you want me to be miserable like you!” Star shouted, her frustration reaching an all-time high.

“Um, so should I go and let you two work this out or-” Tom asked awkwardly, starting to slowly inch away from the two sister's quarrel but Star latched an arm onto him and pulled him back to her side.

“No way, you are my future husband, anything she wants to say to me she can say to you too,” Star said stubbornly.

“Greeaaattt,” Tom slowly said, trying to keep a supportive smile on his lips despite the intense discomfort he was feeling.

“He is not your future husband because you aren't getting married to him!” Meteora shouted.

“Yes I am!”

“No, Star you aren't.” And with that Meteora turned her back on her sister saying to one of the guards. “The party is over, close the gates.”

“What, no?!” Star screamed in terror as she watched her sister walking away. No, no this couldn't be happening. This was supposed to be her happily ever after, but her sister was about to take that away from her. She couldn't let this happen. She had to stop this, she couldn't take another year alone.

And so without thinking, Star lunged forward, ripping one of the gloves from Meteora's hand, her older sister turning around to stare at her with a look ranging from shock to terror. “Give me back my glove,” Meteora said desperately and Star felt her stomach twist with guilt. But she wasn't backing down yet, she had her attention again, she needed to use this.

“No, not until you listen to me,” Star argued quickly, hiding the glove behind her back even as her sister tried to lunge forward to snatch it back. At the point they had attracted an audience but Star didn't care, she was going to say her piece and nothing was going to stop her. “You have treated me like this my whole life and I want to know why? Why do you always shove me aside? Why do you lock me out and never listen to me? Don't you see how miserable I am here? Why are you trying to take away the one good thing that I have had in years?”

Her sister was shaking her head, growling under her breath and Star didn't even notice the temperature around them dropping, all she saw was the her sister looked close to snapping and still she pushed her more. She wanted to get a reaction out of her, she had to know the reason why... no matter what. “Why Meteora?! Why can't you just let me be happy for once?!” Star yelled at the top of her lungs, tears starting to surface in her eyes.

“If you aren't happy, then why don't you just... leave!” Meteora screamed, throwing her arm out. But a cold force followed this action, a biting wind knocked Star and several others down as thick shards of ice appeared around the young queen's body. She took a step back, her eyes wide with a level of fear Star had never seen on any human being in her life, but the blond was too dazed by what she was seeing to say anything, her body frozen as a collective gasp fell through the audience. Star took a quick look around at the other members of the crowd, everyone looking at their ruler with shock and horror, Tom was stunned into silence as well, his eyes darting from the ice to Meteora and then over to Star as if silently asking her if she knew what was going on.

But then there was a shout from the crowd as Duke Ludo suddenly yelled, “Magic! She has dark magic! She's a monster!” He stabbed an accusing finger in the queen's direction and she stumbled back even more, her breathing erratic and her eyes jumping around the room in terror.

“I-I, no! No it's not like that!” Meteora panickingly cried. “I'm not a monster, I'm not!” But then for a brief instant she locked eyes with Star and the blond was able to read her expression for the first ever and what she saw was guilt, fear, and loneliness, so much packed into one short exchange that it took Star's breath away.

Meteora seemed to panic even more as she spotted Star, saying under her breath with tear-streaked eyes, “I'm sorry.” She then turned on her heels and throwing the doors open, ran from the castle, from the judging eyes... from Star. Somehow, Star got control of her limbs back as she hopped to her feet and chased after her sister, shouting after her, “Meteora wait! Stop! Come back!”

But her sister didn't listen as she raced through the courtyard, freezing everything she came across, causing the crowd of people to scream in terror and cower from her, which only seemed to make the place grow colder. Star panted as she tried to keep up with her sister but it was hard to do as the ground beneath her turned to ice, making her slip and slide across the courtyard, while Meteora seemed to have no trouble running.

Eventually Meteora reached the fjord, Star a short ways behind her, still begging and pleading with her to come back so they could talk it out. But her older sister no longer seemed to feel like listening as she gave one last glance back, Star once again seeing the fear and decision in Meteora's eyes, before she took a step forward into the water which froze on contact with her foot. The blond gave one last burst of speed in hopes of reaching her sister in time, but then Meteora took off in a run across the lake, the water being incased in a layer of ice as she did. Star was so paralyzed in shock by this her foot accidentally slipped, sending her crashing to the ground.

From there, the blond could only watch helplessly as her sister cleared the distance of the lake in less than a minute, before running into the treeline across the shore, disappearing from Star's sight and life for what the girl feared might be forever. For a moment, all she could do was stare ahead blankly, shivering as the temperature seemed to drop more and more around her. She felt lost and alone and it was everything she could do to keep the tears out of her eyes. But then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, pulling her back to reality and comforting her and she turned to see Tom staring down at her, concern pinching his eyebrows. “You okay?” he asked, slowly helping her to her feet, but all the blond could do was nod numbly.

He began to lead her back toward the castle, his arms resting around her, trying to provide her heat she was sorely deprived of right now. The two walked in silence for a moment, before the young prince asked, “D-Did you know?”

“No,” Star replied, her voice cracking as the true weight of that word hit her. She hadn't known her own sister was magic. How could she not know that? How could Meteora have never told her? She suddenly understood why her sister had been guarded and closed off all those years, she wasn't trying to push Star away, she was trying to keep her from learning the truth. But why? Why had she kept it from her for so long? Did her own sister really not trust her enough to tell her such a huge secret?

The next several minutes passed by in a haze for Star, unable to get the image of Meteora's frightened face out of her head, while Tom tried to settle down the crowd, who were almost in a panic over the dropping temperature and the now frozen lake that surrounded their home. And Ludo was not helping the situation as he began freaking out the most out of everyone, screaming his head off about how they were all going to die and that the monster who did this needed to be stopped. Finally, Tom decided to take matters into his own hands, stepping over to him with a firm look, and snapped out, “Hey would you knock that off! You're making things worse!”

Ludo opened his mouth to respond only to spot Star next to him and he quickly screamed out, “Ahh, get her away from me! She probably has black magic just like her sister.”

“No I don't, I'm completely normal,” the girl said, hands on her hips.

“Oh yeah, well how do we know for sure you aren't a monster like your sister?” Ludo asked, with a suspicious glare on his face.

Star felt an anger bubble up in her chest, unable to keep herself from shouting, “Stop calling her that! My sister is not a monster!”

The small man hid behind the safety of his guards at the girl's raised tone, before saying, “Oh yeah, than how do you explain her almost killing me back there?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You slipped on some ice,” he snapped, shooting him a doubting look.

“Yeah, well I still could have been seriously injured,” Ludo grumbled in annoyance, before whining out, “I think I got a concussion and it really hurts!”

“Oh brother,” Tom mumbled under his breath, resiting the urge to roll his eyes again.

“I think we should send a search party out there to hunt that traitor down and dispose of her!” Ludo suggested.

Star let out a loud huff, before declaring loudly, “No one is going to hurt Meteora! Look, I know things look bad but this wasn't her fault. It's-It's mine.” The girl hung her head guiltily at this. “She never would have lashed out like that if I hadn't provoked her.”

Tom put a hand on the girl's shoulder, saying, “Star, you didn't know.”

“No, but I'm still the one who made her mad,” the blond royal said, shaking her head once. She took in a deep breath before adding in a confident tone, “So, I'm the one who's going after her.”

“What?!” both Tom and Ludo said as one, with varying levels of concern and surprise. “Star, you don't have to do that,” the prince added.

“Would you rather I send Mr. Paranoid over there,” the blond said, pointing a finger over to Ludo.

“Hey!” the small duke shouted.

“Good point,” Tom grumbled in annoyance, before his face softened, looking deep into her eyes as he asked, “But are you sure you're up for this, I mean it could be really dangerous.”

“It may be,” Star agreed, but the determination and resolve in her face and tone never wavered once. “But I still have to try. I'm the only one who Meteora's gonna listen to, if I find her I can convince her to undo her magic.”

Tom didn't look convinced but he didn't voice any doubts he seemed to be having about Star's sister. Instead, he only sighed and asked softly, “And you're sure there's no way I can talk you out of staying?”

Star shook her head, grabbing the cape offered to her by one of the servants and hastily throwing it on. She took in a deep breath before saying firmly, “No. I need to clean up my mess, Tom, and...” Star's brain momentarily flashed to that look of fear in her sister's eyes and she held back a shudder. “.... and I need to talk to Meteora again, finally figure out why she's been keeping secrets from me all these years.”

Tom nodded in understanding, giving her a comforting smile before he declared brightly, “Then I'm coming with you!”

“No,” Star said, gripping his hands tightly between her own. “I need you here, looking after the kingdom while I'm gone. Someone needs to be here to keep everyone from freaking out and causing a riot.” Both teens gaze slowly shifted to Ludo, who crossed his arms defensively in front of his chest. “What?!” he snapped out.

Tom let out an annoyed sigh, before grumbling childishly, “Okay, fine. I'll stay.”

Star smiled at her finance, saying sweetly, “Thanks Tom. I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know you're right and all but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it,” he grumbled out, refusing to meet her eyes for a moment, as he pouted.

“I'll be back soon,” the blond said, giving his hands one final squeeze before letting go and raising her voice enough so that everyone could hear her. “While I'm gone I'm leaving Prince Tom in charge. Everyone try and stay warm and dry until I get back with the queen.”

With that she took a deep breath and started on her journey, only to be pulled back by Tom who said in a scolding tone, “Okay well if you're going, then at least take my horse.” One of his servants handed him the reigns which he then passed to Star. The girl gave him an eager grin, before climbing up onto the horse, saying, “Thank Tom, this'll make it much easier.”

“Hey, be safe, okay?” the boy asked, giving her another concerned look.

Star gave him a soothing smile, reassuring him, “I'll be fine. She's my sister, she's not gonna hurt me.”

“I hope you're right,” came Tom's anxious reply and the air around the two grew uncomfortable for a moment as they both tried not to think of the damage Meteora had already done.

But Star swallowed this doubt, shouting triumphantly, “Okay then, let's get going boy!” A few seconds passed of the girl just grinning confidently, while nothing happened, until finally the girl glared down at the horse. “Come on, boy! Move! I don't have all day!”

“Star?” came Tom's skeptical voice and the blond gave him a sheepish look. “Do you... know how to ride a horse?”

Star scoffed, saying with a slight chuckle, “How hard could it be?”

Tom and his horse, Hampton, shared a look, before the prince said, “Okay, well first of all, you gotta flick the reigns to make him move.”

“Ohhhh, got it,” the girl said and raised her hands to do just that.

“Wait, wait,” Tom said, putting a hand over hers to keep her from moving just yet. “If you're gonna go out there at least let me at tell you the basics.” The young prince cleared his throat before giving her the basic rundown of the rules he knew but Star soon grew bored and her eyes glazed over, leaning against the horse with a tired expression as she tuned out his lecture. “And if you do all that you probably won't die. Got all that, Star?” Tom asked once he was done and the girl only cast him a small sideways glance.

“Hmm, oh yeah,” she said distantly and Tom let out long sigh, knowing she in fact, hadn't heard anything he had said for the last several minutes. He quickly cast Hampton a dangerous look, knowing how wild and hard he could be to control sometimes, before hissing in a warning tone, “If anything bad happens to her, I'm blaming you.” Star overheard this, but decided to ignore it in favor of actually getting somewhere...that day.

Finally, Star had lost all patience as she quickly told her finance, “Okay thanks for the tips, Tom!” before flicking the reigns down with all her might, shouting, “Okay boy, onward to Meteora!” Hampton reared up on his back legs, letting out a loud ninny before trotting forward, several people having to dodge out of the way to avoid being trampled, as the horse and its rider galloped out of the castle and into the unknown world that awaited them, Star confident that she and her sister would be back within the day.

But that confidence had been short-lived, as Meteora seemed to have just vanished into thin air, the only sign left of her being the snowdrifts and intense wind that Hampton fought his way through. Star regularly called out for her sister, hoping she would hear her and come back, but either she had gotten way ahead of her somehow or she was ignoring her and neither was a particularly great option in Star's opinion. And things had only gotten worse from there, as a loud noised spooked Hampton, making him rear back and Star slipped from his saddle, landing harshly in the snow. “Hey!” she screamed in annoyance. But Tom's horse paid her no mind, turning and galloping away at full speed, happy to finally be fear to explore the wilds once more. “Come back here!” the blond shouted, already beginning to shake in the cold, the snow that had caught her landing now trying to turn her bloodstream to ice. “You can't just leave me here!”

She let out a loud huff of annoyance, before pressing onward, quitting no longer an option for her now.

…

Which led back to her current predicament, wandering around lost in a blizzard, miserable and freezing cold with only a small, very thin jacket providing her any form of warmth. To say she was in low spirits at this point was an understatement, any semblance of hope was being diminished with every passing second, as if the biting wind was forcefully ripping it away from her to be devoured. The girl's body was beginning to grow numb and every step was more and more difficult to make, her labored breath coming out in short, foggy gasps. She tried to will herself forward, as she forced her frozen limbs to continuing trudging ahead though the waist-deep snow.

But the truth of her dire situation was starting to catch up with her, filling her with numb indifference, if she didn't find some heat soon she wasn't going to make it. “G-Great, dying in a b-blizzard,” she growled under her breath, felling her withering hope continuing to drain from her sore and shivering body. “Just yet a-another thing to add to my list of t-terrible t-things that have happened to m-me today.” She let out a frustrated huff, ignoring the chattering in her teeth (which grew worse with every struggled sentence) as she continued to rant to herself, “S-She just had to h-have s-s-secret ice powers, d-didn't she? S-She couldn't have been b-blessed with something more practical l-like, oh I don't k-know maybe like powers that don't end up f-freezing over our entire kingdom! Like magic that makes s-sandy beaches or cute little n-narwhals or sh-shoot rainbows into the sky. Now those would have been a g-good p-power to have, literally anything would be b-b-better than this.” She let out a long sigh, before asking the universe, “C-Could today g-get any w-worse?”

Barely a second passed, before she got her answer, as she heard a loud crack below her and she looked down to see that she had unknowingly been standing on a large patch of ice, which apparently was not holding up under her weight, jagged incisions slicing their way through the thin layer of ice beneath her shaking feet. Realizing the ground beneath her was literally about to break, she just stared forward blankly, letting out a very annoyed, “Great,” before she was submerged in the freezing cold water.

Star's body instantly went numb (what wasn't already) the moment she fell beneath the waves and she nearly gasped as the further drop in temperature took her breath away. She tried to will her arms and legs into motion, hoping she could swim back toward the surface, but for some odd reason she couldn't, her limbs had become dead weight, refusing to move an inch as the dreadful cold filled her very being, a feeling of familiarity accompanying it, leaving her stunned and confused, since she was fairly sure she had never experienced anything like this before. The fight left her quickly, as a sudden overwhelming exhaustion took hold, willing her to close her eyes and just give in. So she obeyed, feeling her body slowly sinking downward, hoping to find a release from all this cold in the safety of her dreams. Maybe... her tired mind thought, as everything began fading to black. Things will be better when I wake up.

Just before the inky blackness could consume her, she felt something wrap around her abdomen. And to her shock, whatever it was felt...warm. She reveled in the feeling it brought her, nearly snapping her awake right there as her entire being fought to reach out and grab as much of this heat and warmth up as she could. But her limbs remained heavy, lifeless bricks and so all she could do was wait, as she felt herself being slowly lifted back up toward the surface, her body losing the fight to stay away as she fell into unconsciousness, the last thought in her sluggish mind before she was swallowed up by the black being her wonderment over what exactly it was that was holding onto her that could make her feel so... safe.

…

Star came back to consciousness slowly, fighting past the fog that consumed her mind, as she came back into awareness. The first thing she noticed was that she felt oddly warm, which was a huge surprise since the last thing she remembered was wandering around lost in a blizzard, slowly freezing to death. Wait, was she dead? Was this heaven? It felt kinda like it, since her body felt safe and comfortable in whatever place she had ended up. Which begged the question, where was she anyway? What had happened to her out there?

As she pondered these questions, letting them turn over and over again in her mind as she tried to recall the last thing that happened to her, she picked up muted voices talking nearby. This also came as a surprise and she strained to try and hear them, hoping they would provide her with answers, but it took a few moments before the fog cleared up enough for her to process what they were saying.

“So what you just found her like this, wondering around in some snowstorm?” a voice asked.

“Yeah pretty much, she fell into some ice, I had to pull her out before she could drown,” a different voice said.

“Geez, she'd have to be crazier than you Marco, to be out in this weather,” the first said, sarcastically.

Star heard a low growl, which she identified as coming from the second voice, who seemed very displeased with his friend's comment. “Yeah well, it's a good thing I was, otherwise she might have died out there,” he added, with just the slightest hint of annoyance.

“So what do you think she's doing out here?” a third voice spoke up, sounding more nasally than the other two.

“The bigger question is, how much do you think she's gonna pay us?” the first voice said, matter-of-factly.

“Ferguson!” the second one snapped.

“What? I mean you have eyes, we know who she is,” the first piped up defensively. “I'll bet she'll pay us all handsomely for saving her life when she comes to.”

“Is that really all you can think about right now... money?” the second voice scolded.

“Hey I'm a businessman, what can I say.”

“Your terrible, Ferguson,” the third said, bitterly.

“Hey you were thinking it too, Al, and you know it!”

Star tried to peek open her eyes to better understand the situation, only to hiss in pain as a bright light instantly attacked her pupils and she rolled over with a groan.

“Hey, I think she's waking up,” the first voice said, while the other two gasped.

Star tried once again to force her heavy eyelids open, this time succedding since the light was not nearly as intense as before and she blinked a few times as she took in her surroundings. She was in some small shop it seemed, the place cozy and quaint, filled with cute little trinkets of all shapes and types. The room was lit in a soft glow coming from the roaring fireplace, which Star had been placed next to, her body covered in soft furs and coats that had been piled on top of her for extra heat. The blond looked over at the three boys who were watching her with various levels of worry and skepticism. Two of them were standing behind a counter top, one lanky, one thin, while the third leaned against it, watching her closely and something about him made Star pause and observe him closer.

He looked about her age and height, though some of his features were hard to make out since his body was covered with snow and frost. He had brown hair and quizzical brown eyes, which seemed to be searching her for something, making her cheeks heat up with a blush. His eyebrows were pinched together in worry and the concerned frown on his face showed kindness Star could see creeping behind those chocolate orbs. He was wearing a thick red coat and matching pants with black boots that had a cute looking point on the end and black gloves. He had on a black hat and a brown bandana which currently hung loosely around his neck. The blond thought she spotted a little mole under his left eye but it was hard to tell with the snow on his face. Speaking of which, from the amount of snow that coated him Star would have thought he had just scaled an entire mountain by himself, twice, and his entire face was still slightly pink from the chill outside. He was also soaking wet, his clothes clinging to him at odd angles and his spiky hair, lying flat beneath his hat. If she had to take a guess she would say he was the one who had saved her.

For a moment the two just stared each other down, never once breaking eye contact as they seemed to be summing each other up silently, the only sound coming from the crackling fire and the muted roar of the blizzard outside. Finally, the boy cleared his throat and asked, “Are you okay?”

Star nodded, ignoring the slight dizziness that followed the motion. “Yeah, I'm fine.” She did another quick survey of the shop as she asked, “Where am I anyways?”

“Oh where are my manners?” the chubby one quickly exclaimed. “Welcome to Ferguson's-”

“-And Alfonso's-” the skinny teen added, before they both finished as one, “-Outlet Shop! Where all your needs are found!”

“That's still a terrible tagline,” the other boy added and his friends scowled at him.

“Shut it, Marco,” Ferguson grumbled.

“How did I get here?” Star asked, rubbing her head, still a bit fuzzy on the details.

“I brought you here,” the brown-haired boy who was apparently called Marco, clarified. He blushed slightly as he added hesitantly, “After I saved you from the ice, that is.”

“Oh that was you!” Star exclaimed in surprise, the memory finally flooding back to her.

“Uhhh, yeah,” the boy said shyly, tenderly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Tell her how you had to give her mouth to mouth to keep her from drowning, Marco?” Ferguson coyly suggested and the boy in question shot his chubby friend a death glare.

Star froze up in shock, a hand slowly rising to her lips and her cheeks heating up in a blush. Had this total stranger really kissed her to save her life?

Marco seeing the startled look on the girl's face, quickly exclaimed, “I-I didn't have to do that, I swear! You were still breathing just... really cold.”

Star breathed a sigh of relief, feeling her cheeks return to their normal temperature, though strangely enough it felt a bit forced coming from her lips. Okay that was weird, she should totally be relieved since she was engaged and all. But she pushed these thoughts aside as she gave her savior a grateful smile, pushing off the pile of blankets as she said brightly, “Well thank you so much! Without you I'd probably be a princess popsicle by now!”

The boy returned the grin, saying, “No problem, I've actually run into those situations once or twice myself.”

“Oh yeah like the time you got your feet frozen in that block of ice,” Alfonso pitched in, he and Ferguson laughing at the memory.

“Oh yeah, I remember that,” Marco said, before chuckling himself and soon Star was too, finding their hearty, cheerful laughter contagious even if she didn't quite understand what it was about.

But suddenly, Marco stopped, his eyes widening as he whispered in an intense tone, “Sometimes in my nightmares, I can still feel the cold emptiness trying to consume my soul.”

The three all gave Marco bizarre, frightened looks, Star even muttering out in confusion, “What?” The boy's face returned to normal in a flash, the bright smile lighting up his face once more as if nothing had even happened. “Not important.”

“Uhhh, riggght,” Star hesitantly replied, not sure what else to say, what did you say to a person after they tell you something like that? “Um, I'm Star by the way,” she finally said, offering him her hand.

He eagerly took it, shaking it softly, as he said politely, “Yeah, I know who you are, Your Highness. It's an honor to meet you.”

“Can you please just call me Star,” she groaned, practically begging the boy. “I hate people being so formal with me.”

“Right of course,” the boy said with a small nod. “My names Marco Diaz.”

“Well thanks Marco, for the save back there. I owe you one,” she said, still not breaking hand or eye contact, trying to ignore how her hand tingled in his touch or how deep, vast, and beautiful his eyes were, or the now rapid beating in her heart as she tried to get a hold of herself. What was she thinking, he was still just a total stranger, how come being around him felt so... right? This was a totally different feeling than she had even had with Tom.

“Well, you know, you could always pay us for our services,” Ferguson pitched in, breaking Star out of her confusing thoughts, as she watched Alfonso roughly elbow him in the arm with a scowling glare.

“Ignore him,” Marco said, rolling his eyes while shooting his friend's a scolding look. “So, what are you doing out here in the middle of a snowstorm, Star? Seems kinda unsafe to be out and about right now,” the boy asked.

Kinda like you were, Star thought but didn't voice this out loud, as she simply answered, “Actually, I'm out here looking for-”

“The best deals, this side of Mewni has to offer!” Ferguson suddenly exclaimed a wide smile on his face, as all eyes fell on him once again.

“Oh no,” Marco groaned, face-palming. He felt bad for the blond royal who was fixing to have to endure one of Ferguson's business pitches. There was no way to stop him now either, once he got that look on his face no power on this Earth could make him quit until he was done. Or somebody bought something. Or both.

“Uhhh,” Star began in confusion, shooting Marco a helpless look who only shrugged, silently relaying her to just 'go with it'.

“Maybe you would be interested in purchasing something from our big summer blowout?!" the eager Ferguson continued, holding up a container of sunscreen for Star to see.

The blond shook her head, raising a hand in a polite gesture as she tried, "Um, no thank you. I was more wondering if any of you have seen my-"

"Or maybe you'd like to see something from our rare collection of bear statues, oooohhh!" Ferguson interrupted again, holding one of the miniature statues out for her to see. Star looked over it quickly before asking, “Um, why does it have a horn on the top of its head?”

Ferguson brought it back up to his own face, before saying with an unceasing smile, “Oh my mistake.” Then he turned over his shoulder, asking his colleague in a harsh tone that made both Star and Marco jump, “Hey Alfonso! What did I say about giving me defective statues?!”

“Oh no, that's okay, really,” Star said, waving a hand in the air to try and get him to stop, hoping not to make a big deal out of it and get out of this as quickly as possible. But that hope was dashed as is it seemed Ferguson was insistent on correcting this “mistake”.

“It's not defective,” Alfonso argued, adjusting the glasses on his face with a knowing look. “I'm telling you, I saw one of those bearicorns out in the woods.”

“Stop trying to push your crackpot theories onto our customers!” Ferguson shouted in a scolding tone.

“But it's true!”

“Um, guys, y'know its fine,” Star said, trying to gain the attention back on her but to no avail.

“Yeah right, oh and also this whole blizzard is being caused by an angry spirit right?” Ferguson said mockingly, rolling his eyes.

Wellll, Star thought in her head. Not quite. Just one overemotional teenager.

“I'm telling you, this blizzard isn't normal, it's magic!” Al screamed from the other room.

“No, it's not!” Ferg shouted back. “Geez, you just believe whatever you hear, don't you?”

“Um, excuse me, could you please just give me some informa-”

“Well maybe you should be more open minded!”

“And maybe you should stop reading too much into everything you hear!”

Star quickly losing patience as the fight seemed to be nearing no end anytime soon, slammed her hands down on the counter top and shouted, “Guys, could someone please just tell me if you've seen my sister!”

The three boys froze in shock, before Marco spoke up, asking in concern, “Your sister? You mean the queen?”

“Yeah,” Star said in depression. She took a deep breath before quickly blurting out the whole story, “See turns out my sister has ice magic which I never knew about and she got upset after we had an argument and she ended up freezing the entire kingdom in ice before running off to who knows where. And now I have to find her before the everyone in the kingdom dies of frostbite or whatever, but I have no clue where she went!”

The girl took a few deep breaths trying to regain her air flow, while looking between each of the shocked faces around her, all three boys staring at her wide-eyed, Marco softly mumbling, “Wow, I did not... expect that.”

An awkward silence filled the room for a moment, until Alfonso shattered the uncomfortable tension, as he gave his chubby friend a superior look, shouting, “Ha, told you!”

“Not now, Al!” Ferguson snapped in a scolding tone.

“Well, good luck with that, Star,” Marco said, giving her a kind smile. “I'm sure you'll work it out, somehow.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” the girl whispered under her breath, looking unsure.

The boy paused before saying, “Um, hey if it makes you feel better, I think I know which way she went.”

“You do?!” Star screamed, her eyes shining with intrigue and her smile incapable of growing any wider as she grabbed the boy tightly by the front of his jacket, leaning in close till their faces were practically touching.

The boy's cheeks instantly turned red at the close contact. He wasn't really used to being this near girls, or anyone really, and he began to feel sweat dripping down his face as he did his best to keep his cool. But he couldn't stop from stuttering out his reply, somehow managing to keep his voice from cracking, “Uh yeah, I think she went up the north mountain, the storm seems to be coming from that direction, so you might want to look there.”

“Awww, thank you so much!” Star squealed, surprising the boy with a hug, his body going stiff and tense as she did, but the blond didn't notice as she quickly ran for the door. “Now I can finally find Meteora and bring her home!” she proclaimed, throwing the door open as freezing cold air hit her full force, blowing her hair back as sharp wind cut into her under-dressed form. A shudder ran through her, before she slammed the door shut with an annoyed groan. She leaned back against the wooden frame, her arms crossed huffily in front of her chest as she muttered, “Oh right, the blizzard.”

“Well if you are in need of some supplies, I do happen to have some clothes for you to wear out there,” Ferguson suddenly pitched in, drawing both Star and Marco's attention onto him as he pulled out some soft, thick fabric and fancy black boots from behind the counter. He set them down on the tabletop, wagging his eyebrows at the girl as he said, “And since you need them so badly I'm even willing to go down on price some, just for you.”

“Wow, thanks!” Star exclaimed, racing over to examine them closely. “They're just what I needed!”

“I thought you would say that,” Ferguson said, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. Marco frowned at the trader, a suspicious eyebrow raising as he began to suspect foul play was being used against the naïve princess. “Which is why I'm giving them to you for the low, low price of $300.”

Star gasped, saying in wonder, “That is low.”

Marco just face-palmed as the girl reached into her purse and began to pull out a wad of cash. But Marco couldn't stand to see the blond conned so easily as he leaned over and placed a hand on hers, stopping her from pulling out the cash. The blond gave him a confused expression, but he ignored the stunning blue staring at him as he said, “Wait, wait, wait. You can't charge her for that. That's way overpriced.”

“It is?” the girl gasped, her eyes shining with so much innocence that it made Marco's heart leap into his throat and he struggled to swallow down the lump.

“Come on, Marco,” Ferguson said in a low tone, his eyes begging. “She's rich, she can afford it and it would reallly help the business out.”

“I don't care,” the boy said firmly, his hand unknowingly squeezing over Star's own, making the princess's face turn bright red. “We're all in hard times right now, but trying to manipulate people isn't the way to go about it.”

“Ugh, fine,” Ferguson groaned, grumpily crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Will that be all?”

Star opened his mouth to answer but Marco quickly cut in, saying, “Well actually if she's going to go up there, she's gonna need some more supplies. Some rope, a grappling hook, fresh drinking water. Maybe some matches so she can light a fire, oh and a first aid kit, those are always handy to have-”

The blond watched the boy mystified as he listed off the long list of supplies that Star herself hadn't even thought to bring. She had been ready to climb up the mountain without thinking but this boy seemed intent on making sure she was well prepared for such a journey. “Wow, Marco you really know your stuff,” Star commented, impressed with his superior knowledge.

The boy blushed slightly as he said shyly, “Yeah, well I've been climbing mountains since I was a kid. I'm an ice trader after all.” His voice got very soft at the end as if he was almost ashamed to admit to her what his job was.

“Oh wow, really,” Star blurted out without thinking and the boy flinched at her negative tone. Star felt a guilty wave wash over her, as she scrambled to correct her mistake, stammering, “N-no, no, no! I mean that's fine, I just- y'know, after what my sister did you're probably not- you just- I-” she sucked in a deep breath, steeling her nerves as she tried again, this time sounding much more sure of herself, “I'm sorry. I'm the reason Meteora did all of this. And now you're job is in danger because of me.”

“Mine isn't doing too hot right now, either,” Ferguson pointed out, but Alfonso just elbowed him once in the arm, whispering quietly, “Shh, let them have this.”

Star studied the boy's face for a moment, as he gave her a confused look, unsure how to react to the girl's confession and her heart went out to him. He had already done so much for her and she felt a deep gratitude to him, saving her from the ice, giving her directions, keeping her from stupidly spending too much on some clothes. He seemed so nice and trustworthy and Star hated the idea of him suffering because of her stupid mistake. She wanted to help him and she felt a deep resolve tighten in her chest as she said confidently, “I promise I'm gonna fix this. I'm gonna bring back summer, no matter what it takes.”

Marcos' gaze softened as a smile lit up his face. “Thank, Star,” he said, his voice cracking some against his will and she could tell by the uncertainty in his eyes that he wasn't used to using this word all too often. But he gave her a questioning frown as he asked, “But, uh, sorry if this seems rude but do you even know how to climb a mountain?”

Star scoffed, saying for the second time that day, “How hard could it be?”

The ice trader cringed, worry flooding his features as he said softly, “Pretty hard.”

“Oh, I'm sure I'll get the hang of it,” she said, simply, keeping a wide smile on her face.

“Um, right,” the boy said, giving her a forced smile, the concern never leaving his eyes.

Star didn't seem to notice this though, as she set the cash down on the counter, saying, “So I guess I'll just go get changed and I'll be on my way,” She scooped up her purchased supplies, heading for the small changing room at the back of the shop, the three boys watching her go. The moment she was out of earshot Alfonso quickly said, “So she's gonna die, right?”

“Hey, you heard her, there's no stopping her now,” the chubby teen pointed out. “Besides she might be able to pull it off.”

“Did you forget Marco brought her in here half-frozen, she clearly had no idea what she's doing?” Alfonso argued.

“Well it's not our place to tell her she can't.”

As the boy continued their argument, Marco just listened quietly, his eyes never leaving the wooden door Star had disappeared behind. He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that he needed to go with her. She clearly needed the help, her inexperience in almost every area imaginable as clear as day and her confidence and head-strong nature was only going to get her into trouble. There were an unspeakable number of dangers that she would have to overcome in order to complete such a trip and the idea of her having face all of these alone made Marco sick to his stomach.

Especially after she had seemed so genuinely concerned for him, promising to secure his job for him and that was something he really hadn't expected. Most people didn't even notice him and they certainly didn't offer to help him or compliment him, even his two friends Ferg and Al, only paid him any mind because he helped deliver them a steady string of ice to trade.

But not Star, Star was different from the others and now she needed him. And even though he knew he had only just met her, he felt a connection beginning to form followed by a growing and overpowering urge to help and protect her.

And, just as he was coming to a decision, the door swung open and Star stepped out, every brain cell in Marco's head frying at once, bringing him to a screeching halt. Her hair had been braided into twin pigtails and she had changed out of her already cute dress into something just as undeniably adorable... mossibly moreso. She now had on a long-sleeved blue and black winter dress with light blue leggings and black winter boots, her outfit complete with an absolutely precious purple cape. If she had been pretty before now she was downright gorgeous and the boy felt his heartbeat pounding in his chest the longer he looked at her. If fact it was so loud he began to fear she would be able to hear it and he swallowed, trying to will it back to a normal rhythm. “So how do I look?” Star asked him with a smile.

Marco, thrown off guard by this, began trying to form a comprehensible sentence, choking out a squeaky, “You look... amazing.” The boy wanted to slap himself for sounding like a total moron, but Star just smiled and surprised him with another warm hug, as she said, “Thank Marco! You've been a great help!”

As she released the now paralyzed boy from her grasp, she turned to Ferguson and Alfonso and said, “And thanks for the supplies guys! I really appreciate it!”

“No problem, princess,” Ferguson said, with a wave of his hand. “Just maybe try and spread the word about our humble little shop when you get back with your sister.”

Star giggled, saying sweetly, “I will.”

She started toward the door then and Marco, finally recovering from the dazed state the blond's hug had left him in, quickly turned on his heels and grabbed a hold of her hand, blurting, “Wait!”

Star gave him a puzzled look, asking, “What's wrong, Marco?”

“I want to come too,” he said quickly and the girl's eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, really?” Star asked, looking genuinely caught off guard by this. That was definitely unexpected.

“Well yeah, I can't just let you go out there alone,” Marco explained, his eyes somehow full of both concern for her safety and a fond warmness that Star couldn't quite place. “No offense but if you go up there alone you're only gonna end up getting yourself killed. I on the other hand have been climbing mountains my whole life. You need my help.”

Star's face lit up with joy for a second but she quickly got a hold of herself, shaking her head and saying in a halfhearted tone, “No, no, Marco. I can't ask you to do that. This is my problem, not yours.”

“Yeah well, maybe I want it to be my problem, too,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

The blond bit her lip, whispering under her breath, “I don't know.”

“Please Star. It wouldn't feel right, letting you do this on your own. Let me help you.”

Star stared into his begging eyes for a moment, feeling his intense desire and need to come with, and she felt a smile slowly spreading on her face as she reconsidered his offer. He did seem so sincere and had already proven himself trustworthy in her eyes, maybe she should let him come with. She didn't really know what she was doing and having him to guide her would be a lot easier than her stumbling around in the snow all alone like she'd been doing. Beside, if she was being honest with herself, she wanted him to be there with her. She didn't know why but she was intrigued by this boy and found herself seeking his company and companionship, for reasons beyond her level of comprehension. And the longer she stared into his stunning chocolate brown orbs, the more sure she was that he should come with.

Which was why Star found herself nodding and saying, “Alright, Marco. You know what, let's do it.”

Marco's face seemed to brighten at that, his voice full of hope and joy as he asked, “Really?”

“Yep, with the two of us working together, nothing will be able to stop us,” the girl said confidently.

The boy laughed, which for some reason sounded like music to Star. “I don't know about that,” he muttered sheepishly. “But we'll definitely stand a better chance if we work as a team.”

“Heck yeah, we will,” the girl said, putting an arm around his shoulder as she drew him closer to her, causing his face to instantly flush. She turned back to Ferguson and Alfonso, walking backwards with Marco out the door as she said in a determined tone, “Keep those ice cubes and fans ready boys cause summer is gonna be back before you know it!”

The two boys waited until the little door to their shop closed, before sharing a look, Alfonso simply asking, “So they're both gonna die, right?”

…

“Okay well, if we're going after your sister,” Marco began as he led Star over to the barn next to the outlet shop. “we might as well ride in style.”

The blond gave him a curious look, asking giddily, “You got something in mind?” She elbowed him with a playful wink, while Marco just gave her a little smirk in response.

“You'll see,” he hinted mischievously.

“Ooohh mysterious,” she said excitedly, her eyes now shimmering with anticipation.

As the two finally reached the door to the barn, Marco quickly threw the doors open with a flourish, saying, “Star, I'd like to introduce you to my traveling companion and best friend-”

“Ahhhh!” the blond screamed in excitement, not even letting the boy finish as she spotted the reindeer gently munching on some soft hay, and her hands flew to her cheeks, squeezing them tight. “Oh my gosh, you have a pet reindeer!”

“Uh yeah,” Marco said hesitantly, a little startled by the girl's reaction. She acted as if she had never seen one before. Still he recovered enough to say, “Her name's Nachos!”

The girl zipped forward, quickly engulfing the shocked reindeer in a tight hug as she shouted in pure joy, “Oh I love her! She's adorable!” As Star pulled out of the hug, she began to gently scratch underneath Nacho's chin, making the reindeer practically purr in response to her touch. “Who's a good girl?” Star cooed. “You are. Yes you are!”

Marco smiled softly as he leaned against the door frame, finding this crazy blond girl quite endearing. Most people never reacted this way to Nachos, but then again Star wasn't most people. In his opinion... she was better. And it seemed Nachos agreed as she began licking the blond royal, who only giggled in response while still petting her. “Hey Marco look, she likes me!” Star said, looking over at him with twinkling eyes that perfectly matched her namesake and the boy felt his heartbeat pick up some in pace.

“Would you like to feed her?” he asked and Star gasped in delight.

“Can I?” she asked, hopefully.

“Yeah sure,” he said, pulling out a small bag from the saddle and tossing it over to the blond. “Here you feed her these, while I get everything ready.”

Star nodded in reply, before quickly untying the thick rope holding the bag closed, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she did. Nachos took this opportunity to gaze over at Marco, her gentle eyes silently questioning what exactly was going on and the boy patted her head, before explaining to his pet, “Star needs us to take her up the North Mountain to find her sister. Think you're up for it!” Nachos looked over at the giddy girl before turning back to Marco, nodding her head with a small grunt. “That's my girl,” he said with another quick pat.

Star, finally got the bag open and her joy only seemed to increase as she skipped over to the two, holding up one of the tasty treats up to the reindeer's lips. “Here you go Nachos, a nice juicy carrot for you!” she exclaimed, before giggling as it quickly vanished from her hand and down the hungry creature's throat. “Wow, you must be hungry, huh,” she said, giving Nachos a loving pet. “Well don't worry there's plenty more where that came from!”

The next several minutes passed by as Star fed Marco's Reindeer, while the boy worked to get everything together, going through their assortment of supplies, double-checking to make sure they had everything, before tying them all down securely to the sled. He then took the harness and attached them onto the reindeer, before triple-checking his work. It was important to be prepared, after all. Finally, they were ready to go, Marco nodding in approval of his work, before turning to his blond companion. “Okay Star, we're ready to go,” he said, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Alright!” the girl exclaimed, quickly hopping into the sleigh. But it seemed her enthusiasm was making it impossible for her to hold still as she practically bounced in her seat. “Let's go!”

Marco just laughed at the girl's childish antics, before climbing in the seat next to her. “Well you heard her, Nachos,” he said over to his pet, before giving the reigns a little flick. “Let's move.”

Nachos made a grunt in response, before quickly racing forward, barreling her way out of the barn as they started their journey through the snowy landscape. Star looked around her, starry-eyed at every sight she saw for a few minutes, before her eyes landed on the towering structure up ahead, looking dark and foreboding as it hovered in the distance. “Is that... the North Mountain?” she asked, concern in her voice for the first time in a while and Marco felt his heart ache at the strained tone. It sounded so wrong coming from Star.

“Yep,” he replied, in the most pleasant tone he could, but he couldn't quite keep the grim somberness out of his tone. “We got a long way to go.”

Star frowned, slouching some in her seat, as the sudden weight of the task fell on her at once. Everyone was counting on her, she couldn't let them down. She had to succeed. For her sake, for her people's sake, for Tom's sake, for Marco's sake, for... Meteora's sake. She felt a cold chill run up her spine as the image of her sister's distressed face entered her mind. What was she going to say when she saw her again? What could she say? They had barely spoken in years, how was she supposed to reconnect with her now after everything that had happened?

“Are you okay?” Marco's voice asked, cutting through Star's depressing thoughts as she slowly turned to him with a thin smile. “Yeah, just a little cold is all.”

The boy stared at her for a few seconds and the blond felt his quizzical gaze digging into her skin, making her squirm in her seat. And the longer he looked the more paranoid the princess became, afraid she had upset him by complaining to him five seconds into their trip. After all, he was only there out of the kindness of his own heart and they wouldn't even be out there if it wasn't for her, she had no right to-

Star's thoughts were cut off once again, as she felt something soft fall over her shoulder. The girl blinked, as she found herself now sharing a blanket with Marco, the boy giving her a soft, comforting smile that made her heart bounce around in her chest. “Is that any better?” he asked, his cheeks slightly tinged pink, and the girl felt her throat close up, human speech incapable of escaping her lips for the moment. So she just settled for a quick nod.

Then to her greater surprise, he wrapped an arm around her waist bringing Star in closer to him, until their sides were touching. “Here, you'll stay even warmer if we stick close together.” He seemed to suddenly become flustered by this decision though, as he quickly stuttered out, “But uh, y'know, If you don't want to that's okay too.” He began to nervously scratch at his cheek and Star had to hold back the rising giggle over how adorable he looked at that moment.

“No, it's okay, I don't mind,” she reassured him, causing a bright smile to light up his face.

The girl settled into a comfortable position, leaning as close to Marco as her body could allow, staring ahead at their destination, while the boy just focused on the task of holding the reigns steady. However, he couldn't quite keep his eyes still as he occasionally glanced over to his passenger, a nervous, but pleasant energy beginning to settle over the two. Suddenly, the sky seemed to light up with color as the two stared up at the aurora borealis in wonder, Star whispering under her breath, “Whoa, it's so beautiful.”

“Yeah it is,” Marco agreed.

After a few more moments of silence, Star's gaze returned to the North Mountain, where her sister was waiting for her. She felt her heart clench as she remembered back many, many years ago when her and Meteora had stayed up all night to watch the dazzling array of colors. It was a fond memory, one that Star realized she had almost forgotten completely, but she was glad to be reminded of it after all these years. And as she sat there in the sleigh, leaning against the strong, comforting form of Marco and guided by a thousand bright flashes of color and light, the blond felt a determination beginning to build within her chest once more. Her previous doubts and worries exited her mind and were forgotten, as she came to a new conclusion. She would find a way to fix this... to fix them. She would get her sister back, no matter what it took.

Just wait, Meteora. I'm coming for you.

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #Star is a Disney Princess #Star is Anna #Starco #Tomstar

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bugband · 6 years ago

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ooo i'd love to hear abt john's primal scream therapy. spill!

oo hello! there's a lot of tea to spill so i'll do my best to not sound like a babbling idiot. i'm also so surprised at how obscure this period truly is. thinking of that is strange because due to john being an extremely public figure you wouldn't expect many parts of his life to be very obscure at all. before i continue, trigger warnings are included. depression, alcoholism and overall dark themes are mentioned but not too heavily. (i changed my usual aesthetic which is lowercase letters to make looking at this more pleasing to the eyes)

This is gonna be a long one.

What is primal scream therapy?

At the time of John’s time in primal therapy, it’d been a new concept developed by Arthur Janov. One of the two subjects that interested John would be his book “The Primal Scream” published in 1970. John was said to have gulped the whole book down in a full sitting. The concept of primal scream therapy is difficult to understand or to even describe for another to fully comprehend what’s being told to them unless one has actually been in the therapy itself (as a person who hasn’t participated in it myself lol it’s difficult to explain). The concept of this particular therapy is to explore and relive your past painful, traumatizing experiences and to realize your own pain. It’s a very upfront way to experience your pain and in a way it could help raise an understanding as to where the pain comes from. In a very half-assed way of explaining it; you cry, you talk and scream in a way that’s referred to as a “primal” as a way to help released bottled up emotions.

"Well, his thing is to feel the pain that's accumulated inside you ever since your childhood. I had to do it to really kill off all the religious myths. In the therapy you really feel every painful moment of your life -- it's excruciating, you are forced to realise that your pain, the kind that makes you wake up afraid with your heart pounding, is really yours and not the result of somebody up in the sky. It's the result of your parents and your environment…

As I realised this it all started to fall into place. This therapy forced me to have done with all the God shit...... Most people channel their pain into God or masturbation or some dream of making it...... [It's] facing up to reality instead of always looking for some kind of heaven….

"The therapy is like a very slow acid trip which happens naturally in your body. It is hard to talk about, you know, because you feel 'I am pain' and it sounds sort of arbitrary, but pain to me now has a different meaning because of having physically felt all these extraordinary repressions. It was like taking gloves off, and feeling your own skin for the first time. - John

John said it the best out of anybody. It’s known as a very controversial thing, this therapy, because it forces you to relive things many people who seek therapy don’t wish to experience again as they possibly tried to block certain past events out and was seen by many as an unjust form of therapy.

Why was John there?

John’s reason was primarily his childhood. While his childhood could be discussed in a different place as it’s own lengthy topic, he’d always had a difficult time dealing with the things that had happened in his life. His own form of therapy was numbing; through alcohol and drugs, stimulants to help numb himself and the world around him to current situations he couldn’t handle. John had available outlets to unleash his feelings of hurt and sadness such as Cynthia, but there was a force within himself to keep such feelings to himself. He had a guard built up around himself that he used to protect himself from outside forces such as exposing his inner feelings. This would be his “tough” attitude and aura that he used to not give himself away. The facade. He saw exposure as making him weak. The only times his state of mind or true feelings came out was through anger or destructiveness and through his personal favorite outlet: music.

"Art is only a way of expressing pain. I mean the reason Yoko does such far out stuff is that it's a far out kind of pain she went through." - John

John had gone through much, simply. His uncle’s death- the man who pretty much was John’s surrogate father emotionally and physically-, his mother- and then Stu- all separated by a few years. More people in his life went than an average person would experience in a lifetime. All ripped John apart. John wanted to find out how to live with his own pain and depression and he sought out to this therapy. The main appeal was to unleash so much he’d bottled up, things that were capable of literally driving him mad.

The theory made sense to John. He'd been hurt in his childhood by the rejection of his father and the removal from his mother's care, and his character had been formed by this pain. In order to survive he had to ignore his feelings and live by the code of behavior authorized by his Aunt Mimi. He learned that to act on his feelings was not socially acceptable, and he therefore suppressed them. They would rise to the surface only when he was angry or drunk. The moments in his songwriting that he'd always been most proud of were those when he'd let his feelings dominate-"In My Life," "Help," "Strawberry Fields Forever."

(I didn’t get too detailed with his childhood as that is a conversation of it’s own)

What were the sessions like?

After reading Janov’s book, John was completely enthralled. While John was living in Tittenhurst, he managed to contact Janov with the interest of participating in the therapy with a few problems standing in their way:

Locations.

Janov and his therapy was American based. John’d been residing in England at that time meaning either or would have to leave their countries to start the therapy. John’s rights to visit the country hadn’t been great therefore making it difficult for him to leave England. Janov couldn’t leave his patients behind for an extended amount of time. However, that’s what he ended up doing to treat John.

Tittenhurst had a studio being built inside the home (which we saw in completion in 1971). This made upcoming sessions difficult for both Janov and John to focus completely in the therapy.

The sessions started in April of 1970. Janov soon landed at John’s home and John’s condition at that time even shocked him- a man who’d been confronted with broken people everyday of his life.

“When he arrived, Janov was shocked to see John's condition. It was as if he had been through a complete nervous breakdown. He had ended up locking himself in. "He couldn't get out of his house," says Janov. "He couldn't get out of his room. He was in very bad shape. He'd had a lifetime of pain. The drugs he was taking didn't do him much good because they opened him up. After a while his defenses just crumbled. He couldn't function anymore."

"I've rarely seen pain like John's, and I've seen a lot of pain," says Janov. "It was mostly about his mother but quite a bit about Brian (Epstein) that I can't talk about. Also his relationship with Mimi. Mimi had been tough on him, There was almost more pain than you could possibly imagine. It would put him on the floor, and he'd lay there writhing around. He would scream, but he told me that he hadn't known how to scream. Yoko had had to teach him.” - Janov

It’s a heartbreaking description really. John was severely depressed.

The therapy sessions continued in LA after April. Janov prompted John to a different hotel than Yoko’s on top of the sessions where they’d be separated and alone many times. As the therapy was still developing, John had been one of the first patients of primal therapy and his sessions were actually quite innovative for the research that went into developing the therapy after him. They’d been videotaped, under John’s reluctant agreement. However, depending on who you might be, it might be disappointing or good that these tapes will never be revealed to the public for confidential reasons. Sadly I cannot go into deep detail about the conversations inside the sessions themselves as those haven’t- and wont,- be revealed due to John’s privacy. However, Janov has spoken generally about what was discussed. We do know for sure that John’s mom Julia was a frequent topic when discussing his childhood. Religion came up on occasions. This is the part where things unfortunately become vague.

+ More about the surroundings here

When asked about how the therapy was for him, John said this:

“Part of it was not to self-control yourself, in any way. That included anything so I would just eat and eat and eat. And it was all very well for the mind, but for the body it was terrible. But the idea was, “Well, I am an artist, not a model, so fuck it. I wonder who I try to please .. . ? It was me I was trying to please, I found out; too late, after I’d got about 5 million pounds. And I wore the same clothes for two years. I had two things: a jumpsuit — not a fashionable one; one you get to do the plumbing in. I had two of them. And that’s all I wore for almost two years. In the middle of the Chanuk thing I got fat as hell. I was living on chocolate and Dr. Pepper … I mean, Chanuk was an idiot, but he was not bad. His therapy was good. It was just he was a pain in the neck. So I got big, and I wore the same clothes … I got used to it. I didn’t feel terrible about it, but I didn’t enjoy it. I was a slob.” - John

John was always his own harshest critic. He was more self deprecating than insightful to the therapy sessions themselves here.

Overall, John screamed, John cried, and he felt a great weight come off his shoulders- after a long, long time.

He’d spent months in therapy but because of John’s immigration, not John’s decision to suddenly leave, forced the therapy to halt. In Janov’s words, they’d opened him up but weren’t able to put him back together again. The therapy was not meant to completely cure John or to “fix” him in any way but the therapy was not meant to be abruptly cut off.

John’s first album Plastic Ono Band (which is commonly deemed as his greatest solo work or even one of the greatest albums of all time) was the product of these sessions. John transferred discussions from the therapy to this album as well as aspects of his childhood that make it uncannily like an autobiography where John says “Hi, I’m John Lennon. This is my story.”

(John in the early months of 1971. Photos of him during those summer-fall months of the therapy sessions are hard to come by, if they happen to exist)

well! that does it. apologies for making this answer novel-length but hopefully i didn’t sound like a babbling idiot.

#sorry for it's novel length !!#but thank you dear anon for asking #answered

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hegemoneapple · 4 years ago

Text

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 1: Venom

Author's note: The characters and story belong to JK Rowling (story starts at the end of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets). Magic can't fix everything. Magical prosthetic eyes such as Mad-Eye Moody's will be explored as a concept much further along in the story (about 60+ chapters in). This story will stick to canon as much as possible (including the neglect of the Dursleys) while exploring this what-if scenario, except for the use of the Accio charm . . . it will be performed by a first-year student.

This is a very slow-building story that will take a lot of time following Harry as he learns how to adapt to his new reality. I'm planning on taking him through the summer and connecting the story up to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and possibly beyond, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

UPDATE: Basilisk Eyes is now complete (with 157 chapters) and I’m starting on the sequel, Phoenix Tears. The Series is called Venom and Tears.

Lots of original characters (OCs) will be introduced. I'm not planning on shipping anyone at this point (he's 12!). Also, like many fanfiction writers, I'm writing about things I haven't personally experienced. If you have and think I could do a better job of it, I welcome your feedback and suggestions. Thanks for reading it and for your reviews!

UPDATE: The talented Nebulababe generously offered to beta this story, but was not able to continue beyond chapter 8. Thank you, Nebulababe, for your keen eyes! Chapters 1-8 have been beta'd.

Basilisk Eyes art at DeviantArt account, Hegemonemilo. I'm also on reddit, u/hegemonemilo.

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 1 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Summary: As Harry Potter slays the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, blood and venom get in his eyes, mostly blinding him. While Harry learns to adapt, he makes some new friends. But this is more than a story of adaptation and friendship as there are threats... and Harry isn't the only one with a past that haunts him.

oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo

As Harry thrust the sword into the roof of the serpent's mouth, blood spurt from the wound, drenching him. He felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang sank deep into his arm. It splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, on the floor.

Trying to blink the stinging basilisk’s blood from his eyes, Harry stumbled and slid down the wall to the floor. He grasped the fang and wrenched it from his arm, screaming as a white-hot pain tore through his body. Dropping the fang, he tried to clear the blood from his eyes with his good hand so that he could see the wound, but it didn’t help. My eyes! Tears poured down his face. He heard a soft clatter of claws on the stone beneath him.

“Fawkes,” said Harry, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “You were fantastic.”

He felt the bird lay its feathered head on the hole in his arm where the fang had pierced him.

Echoing footsteps approached him and a dark shadow moved in front of him. Harry blinked trying to clear his eyes so he could see Tom Riddle, but he remained a dark shadow towering over him.

“You’re dead, Harry Potter,” Tom taunted. “Even Dumbledore’s bird knows it! He’s crying.”

Harry tried to see, but Fawkes was just a pinkish blur.

“I’m just going to sit here and watch you die, Potter! Take your time. I’m in no hurry!” The dark form sank to the floor in front of him.

“So ends the famous Harry Potter!” Riddle crowed.

Harry found it hard to focus on his words as Tom blithely described Harry’s predicament, dying alongside Ginny in the bowels of the school on the cold, wet floor of the chamber. Harry’s thoughts stumbled to Ron trapped in a pile of rocks and Hermione petrified in the hospital wing and then to the warm fire in the Weasley’s kitchen. He sank into the warmth, imagining what it would be like to be embraced by Mrs. Weasley again. He was ready to surrender to it.

But then the cold of the chamber started seeping back into his numb limbs and he felt as if he were waking up. Tom’s voice came back into focus. He was talking about Harry’s mother, calling her a mudblood. The vile word shook him and he opened his eyes, blinking trying to bring the world back in focus and take the stinging away, but everything was even more shadowy.

If this is dying, Harry thought, it’s not so bad.

The pain was receding from his arm and he felt stronger. He straightened his back and wriggled the fingers in his injured arm. It didn’t hurt anymore. He ran his fingers over the spot where the fang had gorged him, but his skin felt smooth and whole. There was no wound.

“Get away, bird,” Riddle shouted.

Harry felt the air shifting and heard Tom scrambling to stand up as he lunged for the phoenix. Harry flinched against the wall as he heard the wings flapping and an explosive bang.

“Phoenix tears!” Tom shouted in exasperation. “Fucking healing properties.”

Tom loomed over Harry. “But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter. You… and… me… ”

Harry heard Fawkes’ wings overhead again and felt something land on his lap. He grabbed it. The diary. He leaned forward and felt the fang roll under his knee. He seized it and kneeling, plunged the fang into the diary over and over again. He felt sticky liquid pouring out of it as he turned it over to drive the fang into it from the other side. Tom let out a piercing wail as if he was the one being stabbed, not the book. Then only the echo of his scream reverberated off the walls of the chamber, until it, too, faded away.

Harry dropped the oozing book and started crawling forward on his hands and knees, feeling the ground in front of him for Ginny. He blinked hard, trying to stop the stinging and see through the tears that kept filling his eyes.

His hands found the cold body of the serpent instead. It rose like a wall next to him and he pulled himself up, running his hands over the scaly skin. He heard Ginny gasp for air as if she had just surfaced from underwater. He hurried toward the sound along the basilisk's body. Her moan drew him closer and he dropped to the floor again moving away from the serpent, reaching out with his hands until he felt her robes.

“Ginny, Ginny! Are you okay?” His fingers brushed over her face and hair until he found her shoulders and grasped them.

“Harry! What happened? Are you hurt? You’re covered with blood!”

“I’m okay, Ginny. It’s the basilisk's blood. I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. It was me. I tried to tell you. I swear I didn’t mean to do it. Riddle made me do it. The last thing I remember is him coming out of the diary,” she sobbed.

“He’s gone, Ginny. You’re okay now.”

“Harry, how did you do it? How’d you get rid of him and… kill the snake?” She had twisted toward him and then shuddered when she saw the serpent’s body.

“I had help. Fawkes brought me the sorting hat and the sorting hat gave me a sword. And I stabbed the diary with the Basilisk fang. That made Volde-, I mean, Riddle vanish.”

He sat up and pulled her off the floor, hugging her to him, feeling her warmth against his chest. Her hair tickled his face. He felt unsteady with relief.

Ginny is okay!

She held onto him, shuddering with sobs until she was done, her breath more even. She pulled away to wipe her face; Harry wiped at his eyes, too. They burned.

“What’s wrong with your eyes, Harry?” Ginny asked.

“I got something in them. Basilisk blood and maybe venom. Can you help me wash it out? Is the pool close by?”

Ginny stood up and pulled Harry up, too.

“Come on. It’s over here.” She pulled him a few steps over to the pool and knelt down by it. He dropped next to her and reached for the dank water, splashing it up onto his face. He realized that his glasses were missing. He hadn’t even noticed when he lost them.

Not that they’d help now.

His vision was worse than when he first woke in the morning, before putting them on. In fact, it was worse than when he first got the blood in his eyes. Blinking through the steady stream of tears, he could really only make out vague shadows. He wasn’t even sure if he was seeing actual shapes anymore, but it was hard to keep his eyes open to even see that.

Phoenix tears! Harry thought suddenly.

“Fawkes, can your tears help my eyes?” he asked the bird whose claws scrambled on the stone floor near him by the pool of water.

He lay down on the cold, wet floor again and turned his head toward the bird. Fawkes laid his head on Harry’s face and he felt the tears fall into his left eye, then turned his head so that they’d slide into his right eye. He blinked to spread the tears and felt immediate relief. The terrible stinging stopped.

“Thank you, Fawkes. You are amazing.”

Harry sat up and looked around. He could open his eyes now, but the chamber was still shrouded in dark shadows, with flickering blurs of light. He rubbed at his eyes again and looked again, but it was the same.

“Is it any better, Harry?” Ginny asked softly.

“It stopped stinging, but I still can’t see anything really—just shadows,” Harry said. He shook himself and tried to focus.

“Ginny, do you see my wand anywhere? Riddle took it. Maybe he dropped it when he vanished?”

“I’ll look for it,” she said as she jumped up. Her steps clattered away from him, echoing off the chamber walls. He heard the hardwood sound of the wand on stone and knew she’d found it and sighed with relief. Her footsteps started coming back to him as she approached him, then stopped.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The diary. Let’s take it back.” She sounded sad and a bit fierce.

“Careful of the venom, Ginny,” Harry called to her as she approached him.

“Yeah, right,” she said. “I’ll wrap it in my cloak.”

He could hear the rustling of her cloak and then there was a pregnant pause.

“Er, here’s your wand, Harry.”

He realized she must have been holding it out to him, expecting him to see it and take it. He stood up slowly, reaching forward and she placed it across his palm. He tucked the wand in his cloak pocket.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Harry wondered, squinting as he tried to see through the shadows and orient himself. Could he even find the tunnel he’d followed here? And then there was the caved-in portion of the tunnel. He heard Fawkes’ claws scrape on the stone and his wings flapping as he launched into the air.

“Fawkes is flying this way. Let’s follow him.” Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him with her. He stumbled alongside her, then pulled up short.

“Wait, what about the sword and the sorting hat? Where are they?” Harry felt Ginny turn as she looked around the room, tugging his hand with her as she moved.

“I see the sorting hat. Wait here. I’ll go get it.”

She ran across the chamber. Harry moved forward toward the wall of the Basilisk's body and started following it toward the head, keeping his hand on the cold scaly body.

He tripped and stumbled over stones that had been knocked loose in the struggle with the serpent, but managed to stay upright. The serpent's body tapered as he neared the head and he heard Ginny join him.

“Oi,” she gasped.

“What is it?”

“The sword is really stuck up far in the roof of the mouth. Here. Let me get it.” She moved past him.

“Careful of the fangs. The venom!” Harry called out as he listened to the sickening sound of the sword moving out of the flesh of the Basilisk’s mouth. The sword clattered to the ground.

“I’m okay,” Ginny reassured Harry as he found her back and gripped her shoulder.

She bent down and heaved at the sword.

“Here, let me get it,” Harry said.

He reached around her, following her arm to her hand, then took the sword from her. It was heavier than he remembered during the struggle with the great snake. He fumbled with the edge of his robes and then wiped the blade against them, cleaning it off, and stuck it through his belt so that it hung by his side. He tightened his belt so that the sword wouldn’t pull his trousers down.

Fawkes had settled on the serpent’s body as they sorted out the sword—he could hear his little chirps. He took off again, leading them to the tunnel.

“Here, let me hold onto your shoulder,” Harry told Ginny as she grabbed onto his arm again to lead him. “That’ll be easier.”

She was about a head shorter than him. He didn’t like being pulled along.

“Any chance you see my glasses around here?”

“No,” Ginny said. Then he heard her reaching into her robes. “Accio glasses!” she called and Harry heard a whooshing noise.

“Here they are, Harry, but they are all busted.” She pressed them into his hand and he felt their contorted form and cracked glass.

“Hey, isn’t that a really advanced spell? How do you know it?” Harry asked.

“Don’t tell anyone. I’m not supposed to use it, but Fred and George use it all the time at home when they think no one is watching and I figured it out, too,” Ginny confessed.

“You mean before you had a wand?”

“Well, I would sneak my brothers’ wands when they weren’t using them,” Ginny said. It was as if being in the Chamber of Secrets had made her want to confess all of her secrets.

“Trolls bollocks,” Harry sighed. He tried to open them up to place over his eyes, but one of the earpieces broke off. Holding them up to his eyes, they didn’t make a difference. Nothing. He stuffed his glasses into his pocket and grasped Ginny’s shoulder.

“Let’s get back to Ron,” he said.

“Where’s Ron?” Ginny exclaimed. “Why isn’t he here with you?”

“Lockhart tried to blast us with a spell and made a part of the tunnel cave-in. Ron’s okay, just trapped behind the rubble. Let’s try to find him. He was trying to move the rocks so that we’d be able to get back through once I found you.”

“Lumos,” Ginny said and a blinding light erupted in front of Harry. He shut his eyes tight.

"Oh, ow!" he yelped.

"You can see that?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, it's just so bright! It hurts."

“Sorry! Just keep your eyes closed, okay?”

Harry sighed in response. It’s not like he could see anything anyway when they were open. He stumbled along behind Ginny, tripping over pieces of rubble and uneven stones as Ginny followed Fawkes.

After a bit, they could hear the sound of rocks being moved and picked up their speed. The sword slapped against Harry’s hip as he moved.

“Ron! Ron!” Harry shouted, “Ginny’s all right!”

Ron’s muffled cheer echoed softly off the cavern walls.

Ginny stopped close to the wall of rock and Harry slipped and slid over the loose bits of rubble strewn over the floor.

“You did it, Harry! You saved Ginny!” Ron’s gave a strangled cry mingling both jubilation and relief. His voice sounded like it was coming through a pipe.

“Come through the tunnel. Here, Ginny, you first.”

Harry felt Ginny being pulled forward and heard her scrabbling through the rocky tunnel that Ron had made. He heard Ron helping Ginny through.

"Why are you wearing the sorting hat, Ginny?" Ron asked.

Harry felt around the rock pile until he found the entrance and then started climbing through after her. He had to climb back out and take the sword out of his belt because he couldn't climb through the tunnel with it on. He tried again, holding the sword in one hand in front of him. It was tricky crawling through the hole with it. Cool air blew across his face as he neared the other side of the small tunnel.

“Can someone take the sword?” he called out, afraid that he’d accidentally stab Ron or Ginny with it.

“Whoa! Where’d you get this sword? It’s so cool,” Ron exclaimed as he took it from Harry.

“The Sorting Hat gave it to me,” Harry explained, but he was distracted. He could hear Ginny sniffling. He pulled himself through the hole, stumbling as he tried to find his footing on the rocky ground.

“You okay, Harry?” Ron asked, grabbing him by the arm to steady him.

“Not really. I can’t see. I got venom in my eyes. I can’t see anything—just shadows and light,” his voice cracking. “I bet Madam Pomfrey can sort it out."

“Venom from the basilisk?” Ron exclaimed. “Wicked! What happened? How did you escape?”

“Harry killed it with a sword! And he got rid of Riddle, too!” Ginny burst out, grabbing Harry by the other arm and helping him navigate through the rubble. Her voice was full of tears and her hands shook.

“Riddle? How was he down here?”

Ginny gasped in response and before he could answer, Harry heard Fawkes’s claws scrabbling through Ron’s tunnel. His wings flapped as he rose into the air.

“Hey! Where did that bird come from?”

“Fawkes helped us. Dumbledore’s Phoenix. We wouldn’t have made it, except for Fawkes.”

Ginny started crying more audibly and Harry slipped an arm around her, trying to comfort her.

“Ron, I’ll tell you everything later. Let’s get out of here. Where’s Lockhart?”

“That old git,” Ron muttered. “He’s over there.”

Harry guessed that Ron was pointing. He squinted, but couldn’t distinguish any human-like shapes in the shadows in the tunnel. In fact, he couldn’t see any shapes.

“No, this way. Man, you really can’t see, can you?” Ron uttered, horrified.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean we’ve got magic, right?” Harry tried to reassure Ron. Ginny cried harder.

“Ginny, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? ” Ron turned toward his sister.

“It’s all my fault. I did it. I’m going to be expelled. Mm-mmum and Da-ad are going to be so mad. And now Harry’s blind because of me.” Ginny wailed.

“What do you mean—‘you did it?’” Ron asked.

Harry spoke over Ron. “Ginny. It is not your fault. And I’m going to be fine. I’m not blind. I just can’t see right now.”

He pulled her close and smoothed back her hair from her face. It was wet—from the chamber, from her tears—he wasn’t sure which.

“Okay, let’s get Lockart and get out of here.” Harry tried to sound more confident than he felt.

“Mmm 'kay, he’s over here. He’s in a bad way. Come and see… uh, well,… you know what I mean.”

“Funny, Ron.” Harry jostled his arm as held onto Ron moving through the rock-strewn tunnel. He could hear Fawkes’s song leading them through the tunnel. He closed his eyes again because Ginny’s Lumos was too bright. He was so tired… and hungry… and thirsty.

Harry could feel the cool air blowing through the tunnel—they must have reached the pipe that they traveled down from the girl’s bathroom. They stopped and Harry heard Gilderoy humming to himself.

“His memory’s gone,” said Ron. “The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. He hasn’t got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are.”

“Hello,” Gilderoy’s voice seemed cheerful. “Odd sort of place, this, isn’t it? Do you live here?”

“No,” Ron said and Harry snorted as he imagined the face Ron was pulling.

Harry pulled out his wand and charmed a stream of water to come out of it and aimed for his mouth. He missed at first and shot water up his nose.

“Geez.”

Finally, he got it in his mouth. At last satisfied, he tucked his wand away, wiped his face, and crouched down holding his hands out in front of him. He could feel the breeze from the pipe stronger now and leaned forward until he found the exit they had fallen through.

“Ron, have you thought about how we’re going to get back up the pipe? I think it is too slippery to climb,” he said as he felt the surface, his voice amplified as it moved up the pipe.

He could hear Fawkes hovering near and feel the wind his wings made.

“What is Fawkes doing?” Harry asked.

“It looks like he wants you to grab a hold of his tail feathers… ” Ron said. “But you’re much too heavy for a bird to pull up there… ”

“Fawkes, isn’t an ordinary bird.”

Harry reached back trying to find Ginny until her small hand grasped his.

“We’ve got to hold on to each other. Someone hold Lockhart’s hand.”

“Who’s Lockhart?” Lockhart said.

“He means you,” Ron said.

“Is everyone holding on? Ron, you still have the sword?” Harry asked, turning in Ron’s direction.

Ron confirmed that they were all linked and that he had the sword. Harry moved his hand through the air in front of him until he found Fawkes’s feathers. They were strangely hot and an extraordinary lightness spread through his whole body as he grasped them. Suddenly they were floating up the pipe.

Lockhart’s voice came up from below as he shouted, “Amazing, amazing! This is just like magic!”

Harry was jarred as he felt the wet floor beneath his feet and he stumbled trying to get his footing. The others gathered around him and he heard the sink behind them sliding back into place. Moaning Myrtle gurgled somewhere in the air above him.

“You’re alive,” she said blankly.

“There’s no need to sound so disappointed,” he said grimly, squeezing Ginny’s hand. She sniffed in response.

“You would have been welcome to share my toilet,” the ghost chortled as the group left the bathroom. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he put his hand on Ginny’s shoulder again.

“Where now?” Ron asked, then stopped. “Oh, Fawkes is leading the way. Let’s go.”

They followed Fawkes through the deserted corridors.

Ron stopped suddenly and Harry ran into him.

“Where are we?” asked Harry.

“We’re outside Professor McGonagall’s office,” Ron said as he rapped on the door, and then pushed it open.

#Harry Potter #blind harry potter #fanfiction #Basilisk

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