#Story-Heroisms

[clown-friend-gt]

Up, Up, and Away Chapter 22

I don't have much of an excuse for not getting this out sooner. This has been sitting in a word doc, mostly finished except for the very end. I feel like the ending is a little weaker because of it, but it works. I'll keep it in mind for the rewrite I keep telling myself I'll do when this is all finished, years in the future lmao.

Link to Masterpost

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Early Release

3.3k words

Trevor drummed his fingers on his leg, eyes wandering around the prison infirmary. Some of the technicians were in the process of setting up a projector screen so they could go over the results of his final physical with him. He wasn’t ungrateful for the aid, not necessarily. It was certainly better than having to squint to try and read off a paper or a computer screen that was too small for him to make out clearly. Still, it always took them forever to set up the ancient projector, which only seemed to be used for this one purpose.

Maybe he’d have an easier time waiting if he could find a more comfortable position to sit in. Since there were no chairs here he could really use, he sat on the linoleum floor with his legs crossed. He’d long since got used to sitting on hard floors like this; that wasn’t the difficult part. No, it was the way he had to hunch over in rooms with shorter ceilings, just to keep his head from bumping into them. It always left a crick in his neck.

Most places on the facility’s grounds felt cramped to him now. The hallways, the classrooms, and especially his cell. He wondered if he’d have trouble standing up straight once he got out of here.

Maybe he was being melodramatic. He got his hour a day in the yard, at least. There was enough room for him to stand up and stretch when he was out there. So really, it was only twenty-three hours out of twenty-four that he had to spend packed in here like a sardine.

Someone cleared their throat, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked at the source of the sound and found the head doctor, Dr. Sterling, staring at him. When they made eye contact, the doctor gave him a curt nod and held up the stack of papers in his hand for Trevor to see.

“Ready to go over your results?” Dr. Sterling asked him.

Trevor nodded eagerly. He was hoping they’d come to the same conclusion he had. But mostly, he was ready to get this over with.

A ghost of a smile played at Dr. Sterling’s lips. “Alright then. Let’s get started.”

Someone hit the lights, and Dr. Sterling flicked on the old-fashioned projector.

Trevor did his best to follow along, but Dr. Sterling used a lot of technical jargon that went over his head. He did manage to glean enough details to confirm what he’d been suspecting for a while: his growth spurts were slowing down. Before, they’d been happening every couple of days. But it’d been almost a week since his last one, which was quickly becoming a pattern.

He was so relieved, he could’ve cried, though he didn’t let himself. Even without any other inmates around, it’d become a habit for him to hide any sign of emotion. Any sign of weakness.

It wasn’t even the pain from his growth spurts that bothered him so much anymore. The pain was bad, sure, but he’d practically become numb to it. What really troubled him, though, was his continued growth, and what he might turn into if it didn’t eventually stop.

Among the stacks of paperwork and reports the staff here had made on his condition, he’d occasionally spotted projections they’d made of what the next couple of years would’ve looked like for him if his original rate of growth had continued. They’d avoided showing them to him directly, but he’d caught glimpses. And what he saw was enough to seriously scare him.

At some point, Dr. Sterling had finished speaking and was now staring at him expectantly.

Trevor shifted a little under his gaze. “What?”

“I asked if you felt like you understood all that,” Dr. Sterling repeated.

“Mostly,” Trevor answered. He understood enough.

“Do you have any questions, then? Anything you need me to clear up?”

Trevor faltered for a moment. He was a little afraid to get his hopes up, but he just couldn’t resist.

“Do you think it could be over soon?” he asked.

“You’re referring to your growth spurts?”

Trevor nodded uncertainly.

“I think it’s certainly possible,” the doctor said, with a degree of uncertainty in his voice. “But there’s no way to say for sure yet.”

“As long as there’s a chance, that’s good enough for me,” Trevor said with a tentative smile. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. A knot he hadn’t realized was lurking in his stomach slowly began to come undone.

He shifted forward, preparing to leave.

“Hold on,” said Dr. Sterling, holding up a hand to stop him. Trevor suppressed a groan, having already gotten to his knees to prepare to crawl out of the room. He just wanted to be done already. After a moment’s indecision, he heaved a sigh and sat back on his haunches. Then he waited for the doctor to continue.

“Like I said, your condition is stable enough for you to join the FHTP. But I’m sure that once you transfer over to the institute’s care, they’re still going to want you to undergo regular examinations so they can monitor your progress.”

“Sure,” Trevor answered dismissively. Nothing he hadn’t already had to deal with for months on end. Besides, if his hunch was correct, he shouldn’t have to tolerate it for too much longer. His growth spurts would stop soon enough, and he’d be able to find some sense of normalcy in the body he was stuck with.

Sure, living at this size was far from ideal. But it was livable. That’s all that mattered to him right now. He could deal with everything else as it came.

************************************************************************

“You’re sure you don’t want to stop by your cell?” the corrections officer escorting him to the yard asked him.

Trevor made a face. If he never had to step foot in that place again, it’d still be too soon. Even on warm nights, the concrete floor he’d had to sleep on was cold and hard. The metal bars held a permanent imprint of his fingers from all of the times he’d been kept awake by a growth spurt, squeezing those bars to take his mind of the pain. And it was so small; there was no position he could sit in comfortably anymore within those walls. He’d be all too happy to leave it behind.

“No thanks,” he responded dryly.

“You know, if you leave any of your belongings in there, you won’t get them back.”

Without thinking, Trevor patted the pocket of his jumpsuit where he kept all the letters his mom had sent him.

“I’ve got everything I need from in there.”

The guard shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Soon after, they made it to the doors that led outside. He could hear plenty of activity coming from behind them. Everyone else was already out there. He wouldn’t be joining them for long; just long enough to say goodbye to the one person here that he cared about.

The guard stood out of his way as he got to his knees and pushed the doors open. He crawled through on all fours as quickly as possible. Going through doors like this was embarrassing, but he didn’t really have much of an option.

He stood up on the concrete landing that lay just outside the doors, skipping the stairs entirely as he stepped down into the yard. He took a few moments to stretch his sore muscles. Then he began searching for Wren.

They weren’t in any of the usual spots they tended to hang out in. They weren’t sitting against the fence, where they could watch the yard without worrying about being approached from behind. They weren’t in one of the sunny spots where they would sit and chat with Trevor on more peaceful days. They weren’t even hanging among the branches of the yard’s lone tree. That actually made sense, since the guards usually yelled at them whenever they attempted to climb it.

He was starting to get a bit worried. Surely, they hadn’t managed to land themselves in trouble with the warden before he’d even got here. This was his last chance to see them before he left this place for good.

“You look lost,” a familiar voice called out.

Trevor looked down to see that Wren had managed to sneak up on him. They stood beside him, hands on their hips and an impish expression on their face. He crouched down so they could speak face to face.

“There you are,” he greeted them with a smile. “I was wondering if I’d get to see you before I left.”

Wren’s amusement seemed to fade. “Wait, is that today?”

Their disappointed reaction caused him to falter, but he tried to keep his own enthusiasm up. “Yeah, pretty soon I’ll be training to be a superhero, if you can believe it.”

Wren said nothing. They wouldn’t meet his eyes. He put his hand on their shoulder to comfort them, ignoring the way it engulfed most of their arm as well.

“Don’t be like that,” he tried to assure them. “It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

Wren looked him in the eye, still moping. “You really believe that?”

“Of course. And until then, I’ll give you my address once I get there. You can write me anytime you want.”

“And you’ll write back? You won’t just forget about me once you leave here?”

Trevor fixed Wren with a serious look. “You really think I’d forget about you that easily? I’d still be alone and helpless if it wasn’t for you.”

Wren scoffed. “You were far from helpless when we met.”

“Wren, look at me. I’m big. I’m clumsy. I break things all the time. I couldn’t stick up for myself without seriously hurting anyone else. I couldn’t even write a letter to my mom on my own. I may be strong, but in a lot of ways I was helpless before you came.”

Wren tried to look away in embarrassment, but he put his hand on their other shoulder and made them face him again.

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you,” he insisted. “I couldn’t have stayed out of trouble without you watching out for me, and God knows how bad my grades would be without you helping me out.

“Honestly, maybe it should be you going off to become a hero instead of me,” he finished with a laugh.

Wren shrugged his hands off. “Don’t say that. You’re gonna do great.”

Trevor couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re a good person, man. And I’m just…” Wren trailed off, shaking their head.

Trevor’s face fell. “Just what?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Trevor frowned. He poked them in the chest, making them stumble back a step.

“Careful what you say. That’s my friend you’re talking about.”

Despite themselves, Wren cracked a smile.

“Pfft, you’re such a dork,” they laughed, shoving his hand away. He laughed along with them, knowing they meant it as a term of endearment.

“I’m really gonna miss you, you know,” Wren added quietly once their laughter had died down.

Trevor smiled softly. He wanted more than anything to pick them up and wrap them in a big hug. But people around here already called the two of them gay often enough without them feeding into it. He didn’t really mind the accusation, nor did he understand it, since Wren wasn’t even a guy. But he figured Wren would hate to be seen as soft, so he resisted the urge. Besides, he wasn’t sure he trusted himself not to squeeze them too hard and accidentally break their back, or something equally terrible.

He settled for placing his hand on top of their head and ruffling their hair. That’s what he was hoping for, anyways. But since he could practically grab their head in one hand, he mostly ended up rattling them around by the head instead. Good enough, he supposed.

“I’ll miss you too,” he told them as they tried fruitlessly to pry his hand away.

“Let me go!” Wren complained loudly. After a few more seconds he obliged. They took a second to regain their balance, then glared at him. He had to laugh at their haggard appearance.

They marched over and slugged him in the arm. That only made him laugh harder.

“I take everything back, you’re a giant dickhead,” they grumbled. But he saw a smile playing on their lips.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said after he’d collected himself. “You could join me if you wanted.”

Wren gave him a dry look. Before they could pipe up, he explained himself.

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of Lively, but I think you’d make a good superhero. You’re smart, you have a useful power, and you know how to handle yourself in a fight.”

Wren wrinkled their nose. “You’re really giving me the hard sell, huh?”

“What can I say? I want you to come with me.”

Wren’s expression softened.

“I still don’t think it’s for me,” they said with a sigh. Then, seeing the way his shoulders sagged, they added. “But I’ll think about it.”

Trevor brightened. Before he could say anything else, a guard called over, “Wrap it up Castillo, time to go!”

Wren gave him a sad smile. “Guess this is goodbye.”

“Goodbye for now,” Trevor corrected them with one last pat on the arm that only briefly made them lose their balance.

He stood back up to his full height. God, it was so surreal to Wren that they only came up to his knee, now. How much more would he change before they saw him again?

If they saw him again.

They watched him as he walked away. It was bittersweet, knowing that he had found his ticket out of here, but they had to stay behind.

He turned and gave them one last wave goodbye. They returned it, trying not to show how conflicted they still felt about his departure. He smiled, then turned to leave.

Pretty soon after that, he was gone.

What were they supposed to do now?

************************************************************************

As he exited the prison for good, he spotted the last person he wanted to see waiting for him. Warden Douglas examined the fancy watch on his wrist, then looked up at Trevor. He wore an expression of clear distaste on his face.

He didn’t understand why the warden seemed to hate him so much. It made sense that the warden had treated him like a criminal when he’d first arrived. He’d seen him at his worst, after all. But Trevor had worked so hard to better himself these past few months, and still the warden would cut him down verbally every chance he got. It was as if he wanted Trevor to feel as small as possible in his presence.

Warden Douglas strode over to him. The frown on his face only seemed to deepen. Standing in front of him, he gestured for Trevor to lower himself.

“Kneel down,” he ordered. “I have something to say.”

Reluctantly, Trevor got down to one knee. It wasn’t as if it did much to stop him from towering over the warden.

In one swift motion, Douglas retrieved something from his pocket and pressed a button on the side. The light on Trevor’s cuffs flashed red, and his hands flew together with a clang.

The warden held up the remote that controlled the cuffs that he and every other inmate wore with an air of triumph.

“Don’t think that that you’re free to act however you want, now that you’re leaving this place,” Warden Douglas warned him. “I have connections in the institute, and if you act up again, I’ll know it.”

He continued, a menacing undertone to his voice. “One step out of line, and I can have you thrown back in here like that.”

He snapped his fingers together to punctuate his point.

Trevor didn’t respond. He only stared down at his trapped hands, quietly seething. He wondered how the warden would react if he knew he was strong enough to pry them free, even with his powers nullified like this. He’d noticed it the first night he spent in these cuffs, but had only put it into practice fairly recently. He’d been caught during a lockdown with his hands behind his back and his nose itching like crazy. With a bit of effort, he was able to separate his hands with the cuffs still active.

He considered demonstrating it for the warden now, just to see the look on his face. No doubt it’d be priceless. But he doubted it’d do him any favors. And it might be best to keep that little trick a secret for the time being.

“Think of it like probation,” Douglas continued lightly, though he was still clearly mocking him. “Just be on your best behavior from here on out, and we won’t have any problems. Understood?”

He didn’t need the warden to tell him that. He knew how precious this opportunity was. He could not afford to mess this up, not even once. No more accidents. No more hurting people. He’d make sure of it.

“Understood?” Warden Douglas repeated impatiently.

“Yes,” Trevor answered.

“Yes what?” the warden prompted.

Trevor narrowed his eyes, blood boiling.

“Yes, sir,” he responded again, grinding his teeth together to try and control his temper.

“Good.” Warden Douglas clicked a different button on his remote.

The lights on the cuffs turned off. Trevor felt his wrists come apart with no resistance. Then, to his surprise, they came loose from his wrists completely and fell to the concrete with a clatter. He looked to the warden for confirmation.

“Get a move on,” the warden said, gesturing with his head. “I don’t have all day.”

Trevor didn’t need to be told twice. He got back to his feet and carefully stepped around the warden. He shot one last glance over his shoulder as he passed. Douglas watched him for a few more seconds, then turned to leave, taking most of the guards outside with him.

He shuddered as the warden left. If he never saw that man again, it would be too soon.

He plopped down on the curb of the correctional facility. His transport out of here was set to arrive sometime in the next five to ten minutes. So he had plenty of time to reflect in the meantime.

His leg bounced restlessly. He shouldn’t have felt as nervous as he did. This was a good thing for him. This was his chance to be of use. To make something of himself. To finally do something good with his powers, so he could begin to offset all of the damage he’d done. But why was he filled with so much dread?

Maybe it was because this was his last chance. If he screwed this up, there was nothing left for him. He’d spend the rest of his days stuck in jail.

He glanced back over his shoulder. He couldn’t take one more day in that place, much less the rest of his life.

With that thought, a cool resolve flowed through him. He couldn’t afford to fail. So he wouldn’t. Whatever happened, he’d keep his eyes trained on the horizon. Nothing would sway him from the path he’d set out for himself.

The sound of tires on asphalt pulled him from his thoughts. He watched in disbelief as a semi-truck with the institute’s logo on the side pulled into the parking lot. Was this the transport vehicle he’d been waiting for?

The driver parked the truck in front of him and hopped out. He walked around to the back and waved Trevor over, leaving little room for doubt.

He stood up, sighing to himself. He should’ve expected something like this. Where would he have fit? Nothing really came to mind. Still, he wasn’t looking forward to being crammed in that trailer for however long the drive to the institute’s campus would take.         Whatever. He could handle this much, he supposed. He steeled his nerves as he crawled into the back of the truck. Whatever life threw at him next, he’d be ready. He had to be.

First/Last/Next

[justafewberries]

y’know how all of the books we have revolve around a d12 winner? after sotr there will be only one d12 victor remaining without a dedicated book.

Peeta Mellark

[bitchliteraria1906]

I love how full of shit Kyoko is. How she tries to appear selfish and cool and unbothered but is so kind and actually desperately wants to believe in people and in goodness again. "Oh yeah, I live for myself and think fighting for justice is naive haha" girl what are you talking about. The two people who help define your arc have hero complexes. And you sacrificed so much for both of them. You became a magical girl for one of them and died for the other. Your soul gem is placed on your chest, where your heart is. If this was a normal teenage drama you would be that kid who tries desperately to act edgy but feeds puppies and kittens after school.

[the-batacombs]

All that aside, didn't the CW kind of do Absolute Green Arrow thirteen years ago?

[asm5129]

Ya know

We know that the relic in Vacuo is the relic of destruction, right?

My guess is, in a similar way to how Jinn resulted in exploding the themes and challenges of truth and honesty, the sword will lead to similar exploration of the nature of destruction.

The blacksmith made sure to highlight that destruction is not an inherently bad thing

Specifically, sometimes the old must be destroyed to make way for the new To the Afterans that's what ascension is

The destruction of the old self and the creation of a new self

And my thought was that Vacuo in particular is very connected to the theme of destruction Having faced so much destruction themselves

Destruction of their land, of their history, of their culture

But also, the experiences of Vacuo being what they are, there is a reality that their lives wouldn't improve without the destruction of the systems that kept them from having lives that were recognized and valued

(Not necessarily the physical destruction of Atlas as we saw it happen, but nonetheless a complete and total shift in Vacuo's place on the world stage particularly as it pertained to Atlas)

The destruction of how things were done, so that new ways of doing things can be pursued

Anyways

We'll see

But I think that is a not insignificant possibility for the main themes of Vacuo, especially considering the Blacksmith's message about balance

(Also it would totally connect to my theory of Summer being like Salem now, which means she would have destructive tendencies due to her Grimm side and that would be something Ruby and co have to wrestle with)

[marimeeko]

If there is just one main romantic thread in BNHA, I put forth that it is in fact, Katsuki Bakugou falling in love with Izuku Midoriya.

[headlesssamurai]

//hacksaw_ridge/ //dir_mel_gibson/2016/

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Characters haunting their own narrative. A protagonist we don’t actually meet until four or five episodes in but who we hear of from damn near every mouth in the series. Their allies look out at the horizon and grit their teeth at their own troubles and reassure themselves like a prayer that they are coming, they’re coming, they’ll be here soon just hold out a little longer—

Their enemies look out at the destruction they have wrought and hold meetings to discuss the loss of men and territory and resources to this one person

People gather in bars and taverns and town halls and fountains to discuss the stranger who saved their lives or destroyed their businesses or liberated their people

We finally meet them when they arrive to help their friends, and the plot proper kicks off with everyone all together, we get to meet them and learn of them and see their personality, and eventually maybe we forget that they were introduced not as a person at all but as a ghost, a myth, a formless thing lurking around the edges of everything

(Sometimes they look so lost, fingers pressing to their pulse like they need the reminder their heart is beating. They confess to their closest friend that sometimes I’m not sure I’m real and their friend says sometimes I’m not sure either)

And in the end that character vanishes again, maybe dead or maybe something else, but they end the series the way they began: spoken of with a mix of love and terror, the ripples of their existence felt everywhere but they themselves nowhere to be seen, their ideals carried onward without them

Once someone they saved told them “you’re a hero! We’ll remember this forever!” And they smiled a small, sad, exhausted little smile and said it would be kinder to forget me.

[the-most-humble-blog]

🔥 Blog Teaser Feature:

🩸 THE TALE OF BILLY — THE BOY WHO WAS GIFTED A MOGWAI AND ENDED A DEMON TOWN

---

Let’s talk about a different kind of warrior.

Not the grizzled mercenary. Not the chosen one. Not the prophecy baby with plot armor and six-pack abs by age twelve.

I’m talking about Billy. A soft-spoken, well-meaning, walking haircut from Smalltown, USA. He had one job: don’t feed the gremlin after midnight.

He f*cked it up.

And then?

He stepped forward.

Not back. Not away. Forward.

Into the teeth of hell. Into the blizzard. Into the demon-infested remains of his Norman Rockwell-ass hometown, armed with nothing but adolescent guilt and a baseball bat that definitely wasn’t OSHA certified.

This wasn’t Harry Potter. This was flesh-ripping fairy demons from the subconscious pagan underworld ripping into mailmen and traumatizing grandmothers in stairlifts.

The leader?

A streak-haired, reptilian, homicidal imp named Stripe who bathed in neon and had murder in his fangs.

And Billy?

He hunted him down.

Not because he was special. Not because he was ready. But because he knew he’d caused it.

This is the tale of a boy who bled for a mistake — and made the monsters pay.

Check Out the Full Payload: Here

My gift to you.

🔁 Reblog if you know Billy didn’t survive a holiday — he endured a myth.

🧠 Save this if you’ve ever sensed there was something darker beneath your favorite childhood movies.

🔥 Send to someone who can see the psychodrama behind the puppets.

🛐 Comment if you remember the striped-haired demon that called itself “Stripe” — but moved like folklore.

💌 Reblog with one word: Ready. That’s how I’ll know you want the full declassified version.

Check Out the Full Featured Post: Here

My gift to you for reading this far.

🔁Reblog to keep my signal to mankind going strong.

[lemongrass77777-moved]

I will never be over the fact that Lily Potter was the one who defeated Voldemort in 1981 and she was never given proper credit for it in canon. We barely even know anything about her and she was the one who defeated the snake faced bitch the first time around. It drives me insane. Lily deserved so much better than what the books ever gave her.

[clown-friend-gt]

Weighted Blanket

Edit: Changed the title of this post to make it fit in more with other bits of this story that I've posted

This is a story I've been working on for a while, but isn't substantial enough for me to want to post it yet. What I have right now is a half-finished lore doc and some scenes I've written with some of the main characters.

Both of the characters in this are students in a superhero training program. They're roommates in the co-ed housing that the program provides. Addie has the ability to fly, but has the tendency to lose control of her powers while she sleeps. Trevor's "ability" is that he is constantly growing, albeit at a slow rate.

This story takes place a ways into their time in the program, where they've already become friends. This is the beginning of what turns into a romantic relationship between the two.

************************************************************************

Addie woke up with her face pressing against the ceiling again. She groggily placed her hands on either side of her face and tried to push herself away, only to slowly drift back upwards. Before her face could become compressed again, she gained the awareness to stop flying. She let that familiar feeling of weightlessness leave her and fell the short distance back to her mattress with a sigh.

She’d been there more than a year and she was still waking up like this. Granted, it was happening less often as she got a better handle on her powers. Still, she would occasionally have nights like these where she’d start floating in her sleep and it wouldn’t stop until the morning. She could either take her chances with the fitful sleep she’d get like this or find something to occupy her time until the morning. Or…

She opened the door to the fence that surrounded her bunk. It was supposed to keep her from floating over the side of the bed, but with no ladder down, it almost looked like some kind of cage. Of course, she had no real need for a ladder anyway. She began to hover ever so slightly as she hung over the side of the bed to look at the bunk below hers.

Sprawled across the largest mattress she’d ever seen was her roommate, Trevor. At around 25 feet tall, he was even bigger than when they’d first met. It was hard to believe someone his size could still be growing. Then again, this place existed because of people like them, people who were beyond belief.

He looked so peaceful like this. His face, often creased with worry when he was awake, looked so relaxed now. She felt a little bad about waking him up. But she figured he was her only hope of getting a decent night’s sleep now.

“Hey. Trevor,” She whispered, with no response.

“Psst. Trevor. Trev. Trevor!” He scrunched his brow a little as she raised her volume slightly but stayed asleep.

“Trevor~” she sang out. He continued to stir.

“Trevor. C’mon, I need your help.” Eventually, as she continued to prod, he started to wake up.

“Huh? What is it,” he murmured, his eyes still closed.

“I need you to hold me,” she stated simply.

“What?” That woke him up. He opened his eyes to look at her critically as she cringed slightly at her own phrasing.

“I mean I need you to hold me down so I don’t fly off in my sleep.”

“Oh.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Why?”

“I keep mushing my face against the ceiling and it wakes me up.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks to mime it for him. He chuckled at that.

Trevor took a sec to take in the sight before him. Somehow, Addie was hanging off of the side of her bed. As they talked, she began to dip lower and lower. It took him a little longer than he’d care to admit that she wasn’t clinging to the bed with her feet like a bat but hovering in place upside-down.

“How are you doing that without all of your blood rushing to your head? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Um,” she giggled, kicking her feet above her playfully. “It’s not.”

“Uh huh.” He laid back down and stretched his arms upwards, as if to grasp at her bed. “How were you expecting this to work? I don’t think I can sleep like this.”

Addie pushed herself away from the bunk beds. “Well,” she said, executing a few awkward mid-air acrobatics to try and right herself, “Obviously I have to get closer.”

“Closer?” He scootched over in his bunk, as if to make room. “I guess I could–”

“Not like that.” She made swimming motions to make her way over to him. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but she was having fun, damnit.

She positioned herself above him, flipped herself so she’d be on her back, and let herself drop, landing on his chest.

“O-oh.” Trevor said, feeling himself begin to blush. “I mean, if you’re comfortable like that?”

“Mm-hm,” she answered. “Now–hand.”

“What”

“Put your hand over me, like a blanket.”

“Okay.” He breathed out. Hesitantly, he placed his hand as gently as possible over her midsection.

“Yeah.” He felt her nod against him. “I think that’ll work.”

They sat like that for a bit. Trevor stared at the empty bunk above him, his free hand laying rigidly at his side. He had picked her up before, before he knew she could fly, but this was different. It felt almost…intimate. He hoped she wasn’t uncomfortable.

He wondered if his hand was too heavy. At least he couldn’t cover her whole body with his hand. He already felt out of place and unnatural around other people; that might freak him out a little too much. Still, this silence felt a little too awkward for him.

He cleared his throat. “So, is this better than being mushed against the ceiling?”

“Mm-hm,” she murmured sleepily.

“My hand isn’t crushing you, right?” He could feel her chuckling at that.

“No. It’s a comfortable weight, not a crushing weight.” She tilted her head up to try and look at him. She noticed him tense soon after she laid against his chest, but she didn’t know if he was uncomfortable, or nervous, or both.

“Is this okay for you?” She asked him.

“No it’s fine. It’s actually kind of nice.” He added that last part quietly, hoping she didn’t catch it. But with her laying up against him, she could both hear and feel everything he said, the vibration of his voice gently rumbling against her back. In the dark, Addie’s own face began to heat up.

Addie felt him slowly begin to relax after that. His chest raised and lowered slowly with his breathing. She felt like a small ship being rocked by the gentle waves of the ocean. His body was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Gently pinned between his hand and his chest, she fell asleep pretty quickly like that.

Meanwhile, Trevor was blown away by the surreal experience. There was an entire person lying on top of him, and yet here he was, cradling her like a stuffed animal. He could feel the tiny puffs of air as she breathed in and out. He smiled softly, his eyes beginning to drift closed again.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like a monster. He never could’ve imagined getting to hold another person like this before. She was so small to him, and yet she trusted him to be this gentle with her.

Addie was something else. From day one, she had trusted him to be this careful, even when he didn’t trust himself. She helped him realize that his strength was not just a burden. How could he ever thank her enough for that?

He was startled out of his thoughts when he felt the weight on his chest begin to lift. He looked down, but Addie laid in place. This must be what it felt like when she began to float in her sleep. Shyly, he laid his other hand across her, to keep her secure. Then, he let his eyes shut fully and drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

************************************************************************

Let me know what you think! I have a couple more scenes from this story written out if people want to see those as well.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

I've had an odd nostalgia for the Once Upon a Time series of mediocre short-novel-length fairy tale retellings. I've been wanting to read the retelling of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" from that line.

The trouble is that there is no such book.

Which makes me want to write it.

Unfortunately, the only straightforward traditional retelling of that fairy tale I want to write doesn't fit with that style.

But thinking about it got me excited about that old idea all over again.

[whereserpentswalk]

How many times did you die chosen one? How many people have you saved who saw you torn apart by the monsters your body was built to vanquish? When you wake up on that table, new parts being sown onto you where your old parts were torn off, a new soul put into your body when your old soul has been torn to ash, do you remember? They make sure all your memories are safe, there's no reason why you shouldn't? Do you remember what it's like to die? What it's like to feel your body be torn apart? To see strength that has crushed demons become nothing? To see your beautiful body, a body statues were built of, defiled, played with by things human eyes should never see? Do you remember being put back together?

When this quest is over and you request your final form, will you request something that's stronger, something that dies less? Or will you be weaker? Do you want to need protecting when this is over? Do you want to be able to fight at all?

[windblume-violet]

Do... do I go with the username for the running gag of "worst kept secret" or do I say fuck it and say magister Merlin for giggles to see his reaction

[troythecatfish]

[takethemick]

OK so John's a psycho with a shelf life. Good to know now.

I have to say, it's really interesting. Emmerdale is knocking it out of the park lately. This is a step down from Ruby's story but a step up from Joe or April. And those were still intriguing stories on their own.

I wasn't keen on it at first but there's absolutely going to be a serial killer story with him.