#again: i am literally and unblinkingly serious

[a-teardrop-of-the-sun]

i think that the use of first person present tense should be strictly outlawed in fiction writing until authors can be properly vetted & certified for it by a rigorous review board. this is not a joke

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Ghost Wedding: The Remix

So, uh, here’s the first actual fanfic I’ve written, and the first full length piece I’ve written in literal years. I wrote it for my own amusement, after weeks of eating up various bits of TWST lore and scenes and going “But, how would the whole Ghost marriage story have gone with a Yuu who was more like me a goth bisexual disaster?

What follows is a series of vignnetes, starring a Yuu who’s the only girl in NRC, with deeply questionable taste, told in the second person. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, I crave positive feedback and like when other people enjoy the things I like.

Contend warnings for blood, body horror, emeto, coarse language and pretentious word choices.

You've been here a while. En-Arr-See wasn't precisely a safe place, what with your dorm being a condemned hellpit of tetanus and black mold, and powerful magicians having mutagenic psychotic breaks only curable by kicking their ass so hard it flies out their mouth. But certainly, it wasn't boring, and you'd made friends. You had your scrappy ginger Ace in the hole; your serious mamas-boy Deuce; your funny little not-a-cat Grim. Hell, you even have your Horned Boy, he of the poison-coloured eyes that never seem to leave your face when you talk about fun things like books and music and the moral imperative of dissolving the monarchy. And, you were on speaking terms with a good chunk of others. So, when your favourite little robot came up to Crowley, yelling something about ghosts kidnapping his brother, you took his hand and said, "Ortho, show me what's going on." After all, you won't let anything happen to Idia. You have plans for him yet.

~*~*~*~

Some beauties might launch a thousand ships, and in your (objectively correct) opinion, while Idia's beauty wouldn't lead to a ten year siege of Troy, he'd certainly convince everyone attending Whitby Goth Weekend to haul off into the sea with a beat of his lashes. The first time you'd seen him, you'd simply stared in slack-jawed awe. He was luminescent; even leaving behind the fiery hair that flashed and swelled behind him, his eyes were a bright clear amber, and his skin translucent, with his own blue veins serving as the detailing in the marble. Add in the deeply circled eyes and the bluish discolouration of the lips, and the figure he presented was arresting, astounding, more beautiful and unreal than anything you'd conjured up after staying up all night reading ghost stories. "Magnificent," you'd said to yourself, and if your friends gave you a strange look, well, fuck 'em. They have no sense of beauty or taste.

Unfortunately, the intensity of your gaze proved too much for him, and he'd fled. You'd had no time to pursue the object of your infatuation either, class would soon begin, and Grim was yelling. Later, then. There's all the time in the world to ask after the fine young man with the lamplight eyes.

~*~*~*~ "Oh no," you said when Ortho showed you the video. "She's really hot."

Grim gawked and Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you take from this?"

"You're the one with an all-boys school. What's a girl like me to do when a pretty girl pops up?"

"She's a ghost, Yuu."

"That's the best part."

"My brother-"

"I'll help you, dear." You set a hand on Ortho's shoulder. "He must be so frightened, right? I'll do what you need." 

Before anyone could say anything else, a racket started up outside, and things got a little busy.

~*~*~*~ "Do you mind if I sit?"

Idia looked up at you. starting at the intrusion. His face was awash in blue from the conjured screens around him, his lips gone black. "...Why?"

"Tables are full. I'd rather not eat standing." He didn't explicitly say no, so you settled across the table, a few chairs down. He made a fascinating tableau as you picked at your lunch, flicking through and typing at the screen. Lines of code, schematics for all sorts of tech, occasional comics all flit across the pane of light in a million shades of blue. Until...

"Could you pretend I'm a bug?"

You squinted. "What." What the actual hell did he mean by that.

"Pretend I'm not here. I'm beneath notice."

You stop for a moment and smile, faint enough that he can't see the devil in it. "You want me to treat you like an insect."

"Yes." Hard to see in the light, there was a small twitch by his temple, a barely perceptible shake in his long fingered hands.

"Alright." With that, you slide down the table to directly across from him, settle you chin in your hands, and stare at him unblinkingly.

"?!?!?" The squawk he made was undignified and deeply, deeply endearing. "What are you doing?"

"You asked me to treat you like an insect." You smile at him, full of mischief and good cheer. "So I'm looking at you very closely. I'm taking in every sweet action, and delighting that the day has conspired to put something so wonderful in front of me."

Oh, who would have thought that this blue boy could turn so pink! As he pulled his hood up, you chuckle and move back to your tray. "I'll let you be," you say, and did indeed, for the amount of time it took him to close up shop and flee back to the depths of Ignihyde. When you waved at him as he went by, he nearly tripped in his haste.

~*~*~*~ "Stop laughing."

The boys did not listen.

"May others show you the kindness you've shown Idia if you're in a bind."

"You're just mad because she's gonna kill your-"

"Grim? Shut the fuck up. Now; who's helping."

After a chorus of 'no's, you drag your fingers through your hair. "I hate all of you so fucking much right now... Ortho, your ideas?"

Ortho's idea was deeply enticing but Crowley would not have the school leveled, and thankfully, the two of them threatened and guilted the others into helping. You'd have to say thank you later, but god, then Crowley might think you actually liked him instead of just finding him funny, and who needed that in their life?

"Alright, so... A plan?"

~*~*~*~ As badly as he might've liked to have escaped, there was only one empty seat in the class, and it was by him. So, Idia threw his hood up, along with his headphones, and started blatantly ignoring you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." A faint grunt and he turned away from you.

"Shroud," you intoned in the most sepulchral tone you could, setting you hand in his field of vision. He whipped his head at you, the fire in his eyes nothing compared to the changing colours on his head.

"WHAT."

You raise your hands in supplication, trying to still your racing heart. "I'm sorry dude. I wanted to ask where you got your screens?"

"My screens?" His eyes flicked back to his schoolwork, hovering in the air. "I made them myself."

Your face lit up in awe. "That's amazing dude, holy shit. How'd you do that? It's a damn miracle."

"Ah... well..." Two sides warred within him - pride that someone recognized his tech genius, and his deep seated anxiety that anyone trying to be nice was just fucking with him. Fortunately for both of you, pride won out. "It's certainly something complicated for a magicless normie like you to understand." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you really want to hear?"

You fixed him with a level look. "Never call me that again. Now, start like I'm five and go from there."

He stared back at you, and you stared right back. "Indulge me, Idia."

He gave you a smile full of sharp, crooked teeth, and while you tried to still the palpitations the sight of them gave you, he started with very basic theory, and went from there.

~*~*~*~ "You are not going to seduce the ghost bride, Yuu."

"Why the hell not?"

"You're a girl?"

"You're kinda plain."

"You're fat."

"She's probably straight?"

You point in turn at Leona, Azul, Vil, and Kalim. "So?, no I'm plenty hot actually, get fucked, and... Okay, That is a good point. But Kal, you have no idea how many straight girls I've managed to kiss."

"I think you'd die, Shrimpie," Floyd said as he flopped heavily over your shoulders, giggling as you attempted to untangle yourself. "And you're short."

"Yeah, but you have no idea how hot I am when I'm actually try- Shut up, Vil - Like, I clean up so good you guys. I even made a suit a couple weeks ago -"

"That's convenient? Weirdly so?"

"I found suiting that wasn't moth eaten and decided to have fun, at least-" You finally escape from the noodly arms of Leech the Wild One. "Let me suit up and show you? I can be so sexy, you guys. Come on."

In answer to the confused silence, you took your keys out of your pocket and chucked them at Deuce's confused face. "Adeuce! Grim! It's on the vanity in my room!"

"But ghosts?"

"Say you're clearing out things so that we won't bother... No, actually just go the balcony way."

"You can't unlock the balcony from the outside without a lockpick, it only locks from the inside."

A moment of silence. "Lilia, what the fuck?"

He shrugged. "I moved everything two inches to the left once to see if you noticed."

"I wasn't imagining things?!?"

This'll take a moment to sort out, and the clock is ticking...

~*~*~*~ You truly liked the woods! Green and quiet. Full of things that crawled and scurried, little friends that squeaked and croaked and hissed. The occasional precious treasure of a small bone or edible mushroom. So, you were quite surprised when you found Idia, miserable, crouched beside a fallen log.

"... Skipping gym?" Going by the uniform, the most likely answer. "Or did you finally realize that outside doesn't always bite?"

He scowled at you, and you stifled a giggle when you realized that yes, he was actually covered in bug bites. "They should replace this with a mall."

"You hate malls. Too many people." You reached out a hand, and pulled him to his feet. Idly, you wondered if he'd let you try and fit your hands around his waist, but thought better of asking.

"Game stores are alright. No one bothers you in one, or in arcades. And." He stopped, as he brushed the dirt from his legs, before continuing in a mumble you only got the gist of.

"Me and Ortho will be your big, scary guard dogs?"

"... Who'll notice me with both of you?"

"Everyone." Because he's the most beautiful person in the room, and they'd be mad not to look. "Because you show up so rarely. It makes it all the more noticeable when you are out, so everyone pays attention." You held out a hand. "I'll take you out the back way so you don't get in trouble."

No dice. He held his hands in close. "I'll just follow."

"Alright. Why'd you go out this far in the woods with no map, anyways?"

"There's no cell service..."

"Clearly, we need to turn your blood into a wi-fi signal, instead of liquid sugar."

He huffed, but he did follow you, and was actually approaching a good mood once you escorted him through the Ramshackle gates.

~*~*~*~ "Hey, what did I miss?" It took entirely too long to get a single lock of hair to to a perfect insouciant flip over your forehead, even with the eternally stylish Sam's help.

"She's slapped everyone who went to propose, and when she does you're paralyzed for 500 years."

"Christ," You say as you adjust a pin on your lapel. "We have to get Idia back, he'll get what? A week before he gets the hand."

"She's so fussy!" yelled Grim. "You have to sing and have a dog and she hates poison flowers."

"Clearly, she has no taste." Honestly,you thought her taste was just fine, what with thinking Idia was the finest of the bunch. He was very princely, if your tastes ran to exquisite corpses with the personality of a neurotic goblin. "Who wouldn't want poison blossoms?" Tie? No tie? Tie? No tie? No tie. And unbutton. Leona wishes he had this chest.

"We know she has no taste because she chose Idia."

You chose to ignore that, and clapped. "Okay, Round Two!"

~*~*~*~ The truest tragedy of this school was that it was all boys. Not that boys were bad by any means, you certainly enjoyed them, but... girls. Tall girls! Short girls! Busty girls! Petite girls! Butch girls! Femme girls! Fat girls! Girls!

So many kinds of girls, and you, in all of your plump and handsome glory, were the only girl in an entire high school. Welcome to hell.

You accepted no gifts that came unvetted. You had friends ward the everloving bajeezus out of your dorm room. Grim was more than happy to test your food and drink for tampering, but it was exhausting. You at least knew that any food you ate at the Mostro Lounge was clear, but that was only because everyone was too damn scared of the eternally hovering Floyd to try anything while there.

 So, you eat a lot of vending machine snacks.

You've been standing there for fifteen minutes, trying to figure out the best combo with your limited funds, when someone coughed behind you.

"??? Oh, hey Idia." You stepped aside while he shuffled up to the glass and peered in. "Anything to recommend? I got this." You waved your bill in the air.

He only looked at you a moment before looking back at the machine. "That won't get you much."

"Ah, don't I know it. But it's all I got."

He still wasn't looking directly at you, but a smile started to creep across his face. "Get your bag."

"Wha-" He was already tapping out a beat with the keypad, blue sparks flying from his fingertips, the machine starting to groan and shiver. With a final note, the snack machine gave a final heaving shudder - and every single snack fell to the bottom of the machine.

He was so proud as he smiled at you, reaching down and pulling a single bag of gummies from the spilled mess. "You first."

And, as you stuffed your schoolbag and pockets full of thieved goods, praising his genius, his cleverness, his skills, he just glowed.

~*~*~*~ "I guess you were ahead of the game, Yuu. She hates that no one's dressed up properly. And..."

"And? You raised an eyebrow at Ace.

"You do look stylish. But you need backup."

"Of course. You'll all rescue people while I distract her!”

"But what if she slaps you?"

"You'll step in if that happens. But we have to dress you all up."

"Did you makes spares?"

"No." Tragic, everyone would look so cute in summerweight green wool. "Let's ask Sam, he's got everything."

~*~*~*~ "Okay, Ortho, you see?" You held his back to your chest, and raised your hand in front of his face, palm away from him. As you wiggled your fingers, you could see movement on the back of your hand. "Those are tendons. Those, and the muscles, are what move the bones, make your hands move. If you put your fingers here," you say as you place his fingertips over the moving lines, "you should be able to feel it."

"I do! They go up and down. What's the popping?"

"That's my faulty joints, we'll cover those another day. Now," you flipped your hand over, and moved his fingers to your wrist. "You feel that?"

"That is your pulse! It's not as string as it should be."

"I'm not always in the best of health. So, Ortho. My hand moves by muscles and tendons when I think of it. My blood moves through my body, one beat at a time, and you can feel it. Right?"

"Right."

"You," you say, as you take Ortho's other hand. "Your hand moves by motors and servos, when you think about it. Electricity and magic moves through your body, in beats so fast we can't perceive it, and it's as measurable as my pulse."

"... Because I am a robot."

"Because you are a bit different. But we're both alive, we're both real, just in different ways." You turn to look at Ortho directly, and he looks back at you with yellow eyes that are actual, real lamps. "Don't let anyone ever say you're not real, or alive, or good enough, just because you're different."

And though you can't see it, you can feel Idia smiling from the corner of his room.

~*~*~*~ Alright. No more time for memories, only the here and now. You've got a heart full of love, a pocket full of ring, and a head full of stupid. You're as prepared as anyone else who went in. Start on your left foot, and...

"Hello? Excuse me?" You make a cursory knock at the doorframe before stepping in. "I heard there was a wedding."

The bride - Eliza - whirled on you, and stopped. She was even more of a vision in person, airy translucence and fine, sweet features currently arranged in confusion. "Ah- Yes! I'm getting married to my darling Prince Idia! Right away, so-"

Not if I have my way about it, you thought to yourself as you arranged yourself in a perfect bow, one hand behind your back. You pretended not to notice Idia trussed up with rope, but you filed the sight away for later. "How wonderful. I wish you only happiness. But it must wait."

Before she could get her hand ready, you straightened and fixed her with your best smile. "My dearest princess, I cannot let this happen until I dance with the most beautiful person in this room. It would be improper to do so with a newlywed, and I cannot know peace until I dance. Would you be so kind, my fair princess?"

She was still baffled. "Aren't you a girl?"

You keyed up the brightness. "I am, and I dance very well. Would you indulge me, my dear?"

You could see her considering it. "You... are rather princely. Can you lead?"

"Of course. May I?" Again with the bow, and to your delight, she returned with a flawless curtsy. Hand in hand, you began.

~*~*~*~ It was delightful, to dance with this silly ghost girl. Everywhere your bodies touched, from her hand in yours to what would have been a fine chest, but was instead a clean and elegant ribcage festooned with pearls, heat seeped away and left only a chill as cold as clay. Her footwork was flawless, considering she no longer had feet, and she was so easy to chat with. She asked you about your dog (none currently, but you'd love to have one, and there was Grim in the meantime), your singing, (little voice to speak of, but that was what vocal coaches were for), and why you wanted to dance with her (because when would the chance ever come again? Unless fairest Eliza considered her for forever and a day.)

"But what of dear Idia?" She'd almost looked towards where Idia no longer was, having been unknotted long ago, but you drew her back in before she could notice the chaos around her.

" 'Dear Idia', though as beautiful as the moon in the sky, has cold feet, my love. He's afraid of dying. But I? I'd cherish you for all of eternity." You leaned in closer. "I am not afraid of dying, beloved. To journey with you through realms beyond mortal reach. I can think of nothing more exciting than to cross the barrier to the other side, hand in hand with you. In the words of a fine sir from my home, 'to die by your side/the pleasure, the privilege is mine'. Please, please consider me, please..."

Here's how it should have gone: She said yes, and you put the ring on her finger, and all was well. But you'd awakened such a sweet hunger in her, she could not wait for propriety. Instead, she grasped your face and kissed you with the passion of five hundred years search, found.

~*~*~*~ It was so pleasant at first, that you couldn't help but return it. When had anyone ever kissed you with such passion? But quickly, the chill began to overtake you. It could have been bearable, but after that was pain. You started to shake, uncontrollably, as every nerve in your body was scraped away with a rusty blade, and as you weakly tried to push away, as blood began to flow from your eyes, your mouth, every pore and orifice, she still would not let go. All you could think was it hurts it hurts it hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts and, as you slipped to a grey place beyond where pain could touch you, you barely noticed the cacophony around you, or something hurtling towards the two of you from the corner of your eye.

Something blue.

~*~*~*~ When you finally woke up, through a drugged and painful haze, you couldn't tell where you were. When you jolted up, the pain of it sending you into a nauseated fit of blood-flecked coughing, a familiar yelp sounded, and you turned to see Idia, little the worse for wear.

"You're up, uh..." He fumbled something onto the table, behind his back. "I."

You just looked. At him, at the surroundings. A hospital bed, with gifts and flowers (most filched from the wedding venue, but someone had stuck Jade's poison blossom into a vase and set it in the far corner). Idia was the only one present, seeing as it was the middle of the night.

"Ortho's getting things you might need. I... I hate hospital scenes..."

"Hurt's over.” You tried to settle yourself more comfortably, failing miserably. “Here comes the comfort." You reached out a hand, as he looked anywhere in the room but you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." More silence.

"Shroud." He hesitantly placed his hand in yours, tinting pink as you pulled the sleeve up. The sight of it made you gasp. His fine wrist, so small even you could put your fingers around it, was mottled with deep bruising, blacks and purples set so deep into the skin that there was crusted blood on the surface, despite being unbroken. It was so, deeply, incredibly...

Beautiful. It was all you could do, not to press your lips to his wrist and taste his pulse as it flitted under his skin. To clean the blood away with your own tongue and cover the marks that your hungry ghost princess had made with your own teeth. Not hers. Yours.

Really, no wonder you'd been so enchanted with Eliza. You're cut of the same cloth.

"It must hurt."

He jerked his hand away, making you both wince. "What the hell is wrong with you? They only reason you're not dead is everyone pouring so much healing magic into you that it exhausted almost everyone. I." You could see flickers and flashes of orange sparking along the full length of his hair. "I'm not worth dying for. Why?"

What do you tell him? That it was the right thing to do? That you wanted to prove that you could woo a pretty girl? That you didn't want him dead? That you were a possessive bitch that couldn't stand the idea of someone else having him, even if unwilling on his part? All were true, but what do you say?

It proved a moot point, as when you opened your mouth to say something, anything, something shifted within you, and the only thing Idia received was a gout of blood square in his face.

~*~*~*~ After you'd slept, you reached for your phone in the thin morning light. Your friends where texting well wishes and condolences, and explanations of what happened after you went down (It seemed Idia had tackled Eliza clean off of you, and after some chaos she ran off with her retainer, rending this entire day moot). Even more interestingly, you found a text from an unknown number:

- I'm still mad at you.

You huffed to yourself, and after a bit of thought, start to text back.

- Dude I'm so sorry about the uh. blood puke. - I'll pay for cleaning - Also you know, you could have just asked for my number a long time ago? - Like a normal person? - Who doesn't break into phones to steal said numbers while I was unconscious next to you, what the fuck dude - That's not what this is about though. - You've got every right to be mad - That whole day was traumatizing, and you didn't deserve any of it - I'd rather sort this out in person but if text is easier for you right now we can do that - One last thing though

You stopped, and thought Do I actually do this? and went what the hell.

- I still need that dance I went in to get from you

[sirensmojo]

“The fiercest”,1 - Ivar The Boneless x Reader.

Summary: Imagine you’re the fiercest warrior of Prince Oleg. In an attempt to invade Scandinavia he sends little groups of battalions, including you, to raid with Ivar as the leader. What you didn’t plan was the feelings Ivar and you grow for one another.

Warnings: angst, rude/ruthless!reader, love/hate relationship

Word Count: 3,395

 Masterlist

“I want you to meet Ivar The Boneless Y/N” simply said Oleg as he turns his back on you to go up to his throne. “I have heard of him my Prince,” you said reluctantly. He exhales and sits, he is now looking at you with one of his legs stretches whereas his elbows leaning on the armrest “Don’t you think it will be better to know who you are going to travel with? Plus, he is my friend now. I want you to meet him” he looks down on you. This wasn’t an order, but you could hear in his tone he wanted to be persuasive “As you command my Prince” you simply nodded and take a step back before leaving. It was true, you heard about Ivar, when he was Prince but also when he was King and during some trips longing the Silk Road you heard here and there that he was in the area, but you never thought you would meet him let alone that you would hear Oleg say he found a friend in him. But the situation was made that way and you wanted to be apart of the battalions that will live the next morning to Scandinavia anyway, so the meeting was inevitable. If you were so unwilling to meet him it was because you didn’t want him to see your face, when you’re on a mission you never reveal your real identity. After all, you knew how people would act knowing you’re a mercenary and add to that the fact that you’re a woman, a woman mercenary. Just imagine their reactions give you headaches, you had two lives, sort of. On one hand, you could be mistaken for a young woman coming from a rich family and on the other hand, you were the bloody mercenary working for Pince Oleg everybody was afraid of. Nobody knew your identity or who you truly were and when walking down the market you could hear whispers that you were Prince Oleg’s cousin, everybody sticks on that version and that was okay with you.

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t notice Ivar’s silhouette walking on your way, you deeply inhale, and before you could think twice about what you were about to do, you catch his eye. He stops walking and continues eyeing you as you get nearer him “Prince Oleg wanted us to meet, what a coincidence to see you here and now" you simply said looking at his face as he frowns “You know Prince Oleg?” he hesitantly asks. His confused face let you believe the Prince didn’t talk to Ivar about you. So you’ll have to introduce yourself and the more time you’ll have to talk to him, the more time Ivar has to imprint your face. You sigh in the disappointment of that last thought and look forward vanquished “I’m Y/N, I will go with you tomorrow”. You glanced at Ivar only to see him more and more confused, that whole situation seriously began to bother you. You get closer to him as he was staring at you bewildered “I’m a mercenary, I work for our Prince” you simply whispered making sure nobody could hear your words. His eyes that were then focusing on your body slowly lift up to your eyes and you look at him unblinkingly as to show him how serious you were. “A woman.,” he mutters so quietly you could barely hear him as he was now looking away. You were about to respond to him angrily but before you could say anything he was now looking at you in awe to your surprise. You took a step back and cleared your voice looking back down before lifting up your gaze to meet his “Don’t ask me how and why I won’t answer Ivar” you firmly say. “You know who I am?” he lets out and you shrug “Who doesn’t? I mean, I heard stories here and there about your achievements” you nonchalantly answer. “I never heard about a mercenary woman named Y/N” he chuckles, it seems like remembering him things about his past boosted his confidence. “It’s because you were too busy claiming you’re a god” you snap and he suddenly stops chuckling, looking at the ground. He now had an expressionless face and you knew you hit a nerve, you were kinda proud of yourself, if he thought he could simply teasing you like that, he was madly wrong. You tuck a lock of your long black hair behind your ear and you couldn’t help but smile at the situation “Now that the presentations have been made, would you excuse me I have matters to manage” you arrogantly say as you leave him with his thoughts. You go to the nearer merchant stand and start discussing with the owner and slowly glance at Ivar that was looking at you in disbelief.

Back to the palace later the afternoon, Oleg sent a guard looking for you, he wanted to see you. You took off the white fur pillbox hat, the white fur scarf, and your beige coat. Once cleared of all those layers you intend to go meet your Prince. The guards opened the door and you get inside as you silently walk toward the throne. “My Prince,” you say but your peaceful voice break when you see you weren’t alone, Ivar was also here staring at you as you get closer to them. You stop yourself and just ignore the man who was leaning on his crutches to look at Oleg. “How was your day Y/N?” he asks as he was walking around like he was occupied searching for something as usual. “Well, I bought supplies my prince” you answer without saying much. “Good to hear” he mutters as if he didn’t really care “Here is Ivar The Boneless, the friend I was talking to you about earlier” he excitedly said. He seemed to be surprisingly happy about the arrival of that stranger in Kiev. You fake a smile at Ivar in an attempt to not spoil the mood “Nice to meet you” you hiss while you nod. Wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes as if he wanted to tell what happens at the market and you glower at him to get him to understand neither of you would want to irritate the Prince. It seems like he gets it “Nice to meet you” he responds softly. You now turn your face to Oleg and your facial expression completely changes as you genuinely smile at him. He walks towards you and put his hand on your arm before looking at Ivar “She and I work together since my soldiers bring her to me after she killed an outrageous number of them” his brows raised and he winces “Nobody would want to face her, that I can assure you my friend” he adds before patting your shoulder. You could feel Ivar’s gaze looking at every inch of your body, he didn’t think you could be that fierce with such a harmonious body. You choose to ignore the lust growing in his eyes and look at your Prince as your smile grew even wider at each of his words. “You could’ve killed me that time, but you didn’t my Prince, that is why I stayed in Kiev working for you,” you say. “Oh, you don’t work for me Y/N you know I admire your fearlessness. We work together” he shakes his head and looks you in the eyes. “Fortunately she wanted to go watch over you,” he says in favor of Ivar. The greedy eyes of the man left your body to meet the gaze of your Prince and he then looks at you. You just realized what Oleg said and you close your eyes in discontentment, you knew too damn well it was true you wanted to go to Scandinavia with the troop, but you never specify to the Prince it was to “watch over” no nobody and even less Ivar The Boneless. During the conference you were not anymore listening to Oleg, you just thought about how you could get the thought that you cared for him out of the head of the foreigner. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t find any way out “Y/N?” Oleg asks and you lift up your gaze to him and glance at Ivar “Yes my Prince” you mutter, “Perfect” he says before allowing you to retire. You curtsey and walk toward the doors as you hear the crutches of Ivar behind you when you two were too far from Oleg to hear, you turn your head to look at him and try to walk faster “Y/N” you hear and you close your eyes as if closing them would avoid you to face the stranger. “Y/N?” you hear once again and this time you inhale deeply before you stop and turn to face him “I don’t do no child care” you let out with a fake smile. “You don’t have to fake a smile when we’re only the two of us. And I know you only wanted to travel. You want to go with the troop has nothing to do with me” he lets you know without looking at your face. You were a bit surprised by the fact he knew you needed to travel but you didn’t say anything and just slightly frown “I wanted to ask you something” he softly said as he raises his head to let his eyes met yours. You blink without saying anything and now he is beside you but instead of stoping himself he continues to walk and you silently follow. “Why do you hate me?” he finally lets out and you stop yourself as you suddenly look at him but he keeps looking down walking so you inhale and nervously swallow as you were trying to think about something to get yourself out of that situation, but your thoughts got twisted “I don’t-” you finally say but you stop as you let out a long sigh putting one of your hand on your face and let it run down your skin “I mean, I know why my brothers hate me, I know why my people hate me I didn’t make the best decisions. But you, I don’t get why you hate me” he added with the same softness in his voice. “First, I’d like to say past is just something we told ourselves,” you say. He doesn’t answer and you look up to see him looking like he was lost in his thoughts. You close once again your eyes and you feel a hand grab your wrist as your eyes snapped open. The door was only a few inches away from your face and it was Ivar that stopped you from literally going into a wall. You get to meet his gaze for the first time ever since he said all those things to you. “Then, I’d like to say that places cannot change who and what you are” you mutter as you could feel your cheeks getting warmer seeing how charming his blue eyes turning dark were. “If you can run from people, you cannot run from yourself Ivar” you add while you close your eyes and shake your head. He was genuine when he said he understood why his family and his people hated him and that just broke your heart, but the answer wasn’t to run away, you spoke by experience. You didn’t say this to feel better about yourself because you were so mean to him but because you could totally understand his feeling. You weren’t appreciated either in your hometown. Your father wasn’t there for you, he was raiding each spring letting you all alone and your mother died giving birth to you. You didn’t even have someone or somewhere to truly call home. When your father didn’t come back after a raid, you left your town and began to travel. You could’ve died and nobody would’ve even remembered your name but thanks to your addiction to observe the older train you learn how to fight like a little girl. And the more you traveled the more you learned new ways of fighting, but you were always alone... Always. So you were well aware of the feeling to not fit anywhere or being rejected and not belong to anything. “Listen Ivar, I don’t hate you... it’s just... I’m not used to talking to people, to be honest, and nobody has ever been kind to me beside Prince Oleg, that is why when I meet someone knew I assume they will treat me like everybody else... Why would they act any differently?” You say and he lets go of your wrist looking in your eyes as if he was looking through your soul. You wanted to look away but you just couldn’t he was sincere and you were too, to be fully honest you didn’t even understand why you opened your heart to him. But the way he made you feel when asking you why you hated him followed by all the memories that ran back in your mind was something you didn’t feel in a long time... You two stayed like that for a moment without saying anything just looking in each other's eyes as you were having a silent conversation when the guards opened the door missing to hit you. You then leave going directly to your room and lock yourself in as you put your back against the door looking at the ground. What did just happen? You wonder as you notice your heavy breath and the warmth that grew in your chest. You simply swallow and close your eyes taking a deep breath in.

At night, you were about to go downtown like you always do, it was your way of meditating and get rid of bad dreams. It’s been sometime now you were used to this solitary life but the face of your father followed you wherever you were going. You remember it perfectly as if the last time you saw it was some minutes ago, his brows were always furrowed and he always looked mad even when he was the happiest. He was known to be the fiercest warrior in your town and feared by all human beings he knew, kids wouldn’t play with you because they were afraid of your father but that didn’t bother you as long as you could watch your father train and train with him. You were always obsessed with war and fights, you remember when there were sacrifices for the gods you were fascinated. Your father always called you a “weird kid” and it made you laugh because you thought it was the other kids that weren’t “normal”. Part of the reason why you were obsessed with war, blood, and fights was that even though you were the thing your father loved the most he would always go back to raiding, he never missed one. So you started to wonder what was so special about raiding and traveling for your father to be okay with abandon you almost every year. Nevertheless, even if that no man's land lifestyle was your choice, solitude wasn’t. And how could you trust anyone when the person you trusted the most wasn’t annoyed by the thought of losing you?

If you didn’t go out to clear your mind, you would be sure to see his face in those bad dreams that didn’t want to leave you ever since you left the house you two once shared.

You make sure to place some knives here and there on you before you open your door to come face to face with Ivar. You weren’t in the same mood as the last time you saw him. Now you just wanted to get fresh air and think about something that didn’t make you suffocated as much as the thought of your father did. Assuming your bad mood you roll your eyes at him “What do you want now?” you abruptly ask “cannot live without me?” you add raising your brows. You didn’t care about his feelings anymore, you were focused on trying to cope with the loss of your father. He raised his brows and close his eyes “Stop telling me whatever is on your mind like I care” he snaps and you frown. Was he meaning you annoyed him with thoughts and memories you shared with him a bit earlier? You just wanted to punch him in his damn face but you did nothing and kept your mouth close “Oleg want you to come to eat with us and even I don’t want it" he added and he directly turns his back to you. You once again rolled your eyes and hold back the thought of throwing one of your knives directly in his neck. On the way to the dining room, the words of Ivar come back in your head ‘Even I don’t want it”... “Like I care”... So there was a moment he was looking at you like he wanted you and now he was acting like he didn’t care at all what a strange and unpredictable man. You didn’t like that, why on earth what he said to have this effect on you, it’s not like you two were close or anything. Even when Oleg was harsh on you that didn’t make you feel that way and he was the only person you considered as someone “close to you”. One time the words of Ivar made you feel like you could finally be understood and another time words spoken by the same mouth made you feel like you were a fraud and that you were talking too much.  You shake those thoughts off your head before entering the room. "Y/N! I thought you were already out for your usual walk, seems like something was on your mind for you to be late!” Oleg teased and at that moment you thought he was the one responsible for this. He wasn’t innocent in the way things were between the foreigner and you. You look in your Prince's eyes and see the mischief you were looking for, it was clear now, he intended for you to meet because he knew two explosive characters like yours would obviously collide. Maybe he was tired always seeing you calm and patient when he knew the volcano that was sleeping in you.

 You decide it was time for you to show Ivar what you were made of, you would talk later with Oleg “Yep, Ivar asked me a really good question earlier and I gave him a response I wasn’t satisfied with so I thought about the right words to give him a proper response” you smile to the Prince before looking at Ivar that looks at you in confusion. “If I see someone try to catch and kill you I will watch and enjoy the show just because I don’t have any reason not to hate you. At least I know who I am, can you say the same Ivar The Boneless?” you smile to the foreigner then curtsey to your Prince  “ I’d like to talk to you tomorrow at the crack of dawn Oleg” you added as you turned your back on them walking to get out. The only reason why you called Oleg by his title was that you were kind and shit but that time he really got you on your nerves and you knew he was too proud of his scheme to get mad anyway. But you also know you were playing with fire because the last thing you could say about the Prince was that he was emotionally stable, but you weren’t afraid because that fire could never burn you. You heard Oleg’s laugh “Seems like you awaken the beast” he shouts as he burst out laughing.

Following part ❱

@soleil-dor​

[sweet-popplio]

I don’t know what to do recovery wise.

————————-

I know that being independent and moving out would most likely help me mentally because being 27 and still living with my parents makes me feel... like I’m a failure.

I know people tried to make me feel better about it in the past, but even if I got word confirmation from my parents that they AREN’T disappointed in me, I’d still be disappointed in me. I’d also not believe them.

The closest to recovery I ever felt was when I had that full time job at the graphic design place as an assistant graphic designer. Because A) I FINALLY had an art related job, so when people asked what I was doing, I could proudly say I had an art job. B) I was full time so my paychecks were pretty nice. It was only $9 an hour but that was the most money I had ever made at any point in my life. And having the heath benefits made me feel more secure. And finally C) Because I still went to my therapist and finally had a decent income, for once in probably... eh 5 years? I could actually imagine a future for myself.

Despite that, the job still sucked. I didn’t really feel like I was encouraged to use my artistic potential. Instead I was told to be faster by copying and pasting stuff from the internet and it rubbed me wrong from the beginning and so art-wise, it was a very unfulfilling job. But the financial stability made me push those feelings to the side. I still had problems, but financial stability and title made me feel more like an adult which alleviated my constant voice in my head telling me I was a failure. Because I failure wouldn’t have a full time job as an assistant graphic designer.

I feel like moving out and having a better paying job with health benefits would help, but I know I also have some deep set problems within myself that I never got to work out with my therapist. I only now realize the depth of it thanks to weed. It has allowed me to think about things in a safe environment in my head rather than avoiding thinking all together. For the last 5-ish years I’ve done everything I could to NOT think. I’ve tried to distract myself with literally everything and anything just so I wouldn’t have to think about anything. It was one thing when I saw my therapist and I HAD to stop and think about things, but since I could no longer see her I have regressed to trying to run away from my thoughts.

Because if I have time to think, then the things I think about are always the worst. It only flings me down a deeper emotional hole. I distracted myself with video games, the gym, work, literally anything that would take up every minute of my time so my mind wouldn’t wander to the dark area of my head that wants me to kill myself.

I’m partially afraid that’s what I am using weed for. To distract myself... to run away from my own head. And in some instances, it does. When I get too high just so I don’t have to think. So I can just be happy.

But in most cases, it makes me feel happy and comfortable enough that I know I can finally think about things and try to delve deeper into my problems so I can dissect them and fix them, and NOT instantly go into an emotional crying fit and dream of self harm.

I can only dissect some stuff on my own. I really need to see a therapist again so I can have another viewpoint... a more educated viewpoint into why, how and what I can do to fix it.

I still have problems enjoying art. I thought maybe I was just going through a phase and I was just no longer interested in art and was forcing myself to do it because it’s what I got a degree in. But I love art, and the feeling of creating is amazing. But for whatever reason there is just a mental roadblock. I only rarely feel like making art now because of weed helping me, but I don’t understand why I feel like I’ve run into a brick wall. I thought maybe if I took a few months off from making art, that I’d regain my love for it and start churning out art again. But I’m not. I somehow am worse. I am sketching MAYBE once a month now. I haven’t had a finished piece in ages.

I’m cycling between never wanting to be at home, so I try to schedule all of my days off with my friends or I am being a complete hermit and not leaving home even when I kinda want to go out and do things. It’s so confusing. I want to understand myself better but feel like I won’t really get there unless I can get with a good therapist. But I can’t do that because I don’t have the finances or the health insurance to do so, and I can’t have good finances without a well paying full time job and that’s where I end up getting stuck.

Because my fear of failure keeps me from applying or brushing it off because I won’t get it anyway, so why try?

I try to practice positivity. I tell myself “I won’t know until I try. I 100% won’t get it if I don’t try” but it only helps me so much. The fear of failure is just that bad that even positive logic like that can’t dissolve it. I realize it’s ridiculous but I’m serious when I say that this fear of failure runs back so long and I have no idea where it even came from. I remember wanting to put a knife in my gut in 3rd grade just because I was making poor grades in math. I would try to have my mom help me but I just couldn’t wrap my head around it or it sounded like trying to listen to someone talk to you through several walls. I remember her leaving for a sec and looking around her room and fixating on a knife that she had in there because she was doing some craft project, and all I could think about unblinkingly with tears in my eyes was picking it up and stabbing it into my stomach because the self loathing I felt over my grades was so strong, it almost felt like the right course of action. I didn’t want to be perceived as stupid so badly. And since then it just been a course of self loathing that I guess built up into depression? But I’ve had thoughts of harming myself so much as a kid that it confuses me as to whether that was all depression too? Something else entirely? I never did really harm myself though, it was mostly thinking about doing it but it would be very intense. Like I could solve my problems if I just drowned myself stabbed myself,etc. Didn’t do well in school? I’d think about self harm. Felt lonely because I had a hard time making friends? Hardly anyone wanted to associate with me? Man, sounds like if I died then my problems would be over. Felt like I was unlovable because everyone around me was dating and all I would get is being asked out as a joke? .... you get the picture.

This turned into a venting thing really fast, but I end up using this blog to get stuff out and it makes me feel better temporarily. I know it’s probably annoying to most people who started following my blog (and why you did, I’ll never know). It’s to be expected these days and if I could actually use a read more option on mobile then I’d totally clean my blog up and it would keep you from having to look at my paragraphs long post and going “oh shit, not this bitch again” and it just be a neat little thing tucked under a read more that you could skip entirely and not have to endlessly scroll down.

[hexiewrites]

you can’t take the sky from me - ch one: follow the plan

a/n: *shows up forty minutes late with starbucks & a ridiculous rare-pair au that literally no one asked for* anyways, hi hello I am sorry I have been terribly absent and mostly just a nothing person?? ANYWAYS. I had this idea for a smut scene - a short drabble, you know - and couldn’t figure out a good background setting for it. and then I had this idea to do a space pirates au, which seemed fun and silly and like, idk, 3k tops?? i am so terribly sorry to inform you all that I am currently flying past 13k with absolutely no plans of slowing down or stopping. the outline is nearly 2k and divided into four??? sections and growing. @nymphadoraholtzmann​ drew me the schematics for a warp drive that we designed. everything has gotten very very out of hand and i’m still not entirely? sure how or why??? BUT the tldr here is that I kind of want to make sure this isn’t absolutely nuts and that SOMEONE is going to read it, so I figured I’d post the first chapter and see what the reception is. I probably won’t post the next chapter until I’m closer to being done the fic, unless you’re all super super into this and then hey, maybe I will - but expect another month or so wait, I think, before the fic starts posting in earnest. (I’m also tagging @olivieblake​, @provocative-envy​, @flintwoodandco​, @newt-scxmander​, @kyonomiko​, @ff-sunset-oasis​ - if anyone else wants to be tagged for updates, let me know!!)

what’s inside: space pirates, firefly (etc) ripoffs, probably-bad science, a not-insignificant amount of smut, lots of tropes, a fuckton of swearing, a huge assortment of rare pairs, a small bit of kidnapping, and probably at least one sappy talk about feelings. pairing(s): pansy parkinson/percy weasley (+ marcus flint/oliver wood, ginny weasley/luna lovegood, draco malfoy/theo nott/hermione granger, & more)

“Motherfucker,” she hissed, as the engine in front of her came to a screeching, stuttering halt. “That is abso-fucking-lutely not a good sign.”

It wasn’t. Pansy might not have a fancy school coding, or - really - even an instructional manual for the hunk of almost literal trash she called a ship, but she knew that under no circumstances was her engine ever, ever supposed to stop.

Huffing slightly and not taking her eyes off the unusually-still contraption in front of her, she reached out in the direction of her mod-com and punched at the buttons until a familiar tone buzzed to life.

“Cap?” she called out, pausing and waiting for the long-suffering sigh and the expected retort of, ‘how many gorram times have I told you not to call me Cap?’ and when it didn’t come after ten, then twenty seconds, Pansy started to panic.

“Draco?” she pressed, reaching out to hit a few buttons on her console in vain hopes that her ship would whirr to life again. “Theo?” Still silence.

Not good. Not good at all.

It only took another minute before Pansy decided that the engine was only one of her now rapidly piling up crises, and she turned back for the mod-com and started punching in individual numbers. Nothing from Draco or Theo’s room, nothing from the bridge deck, nothing from the kitchens. Finally, down in the hold, someone answered.

“Pansy?” came a gruff and slightly out of breath voice.

If she had been the type of person to cry, she might have.

“Flint?” Pansy responded, letting out a breath she hadn’t entirely realized she was holding. “Thank fuck. Flint, we’ve got a major effing problem down here. The engine has-”

“Pansy,” he spoke again, and this time his voice was slower, with a hint of warning coursing through it. The tone you only knew when you lived your life on the edge of legal, when you always had to worry - just a little bit - about the fact that at almost any moment you could potentially be arrested and imprisoned, or worse. Pansy knew that tone, and she heard it clearly, and her heart froze and sank in understanding.

The only reason her engine could ever stop spinning and her ship stay in the air.

“Is everyone okay?” she asked, thinking quickly of where her closest gun was, how many knives she had strapped to herself today, what they had in the cargo bay, if it would be better or worse to hit the Ministry or someone they owed.

Marcus swallowed audibly. “Dunno. Draco and Theo went with the first ship, fucking cocksuckers going on about legal operations and needing to find their papers and ‘probably just some big misunderstanding, Officers-’”

“Did they seriously think that’d work?” Pansy groaned, letting her forehead drop down onto the screen in front of her, tuning out the flashing red and the fact that her engine wasn’t actually still, but frozen - alive and hung in the midst of motion, buzzing like it was searching for a way out.

No way out, she thought, bitterly.

“Dunno,” Marcus hedged. “But, look. I’m trying to get rid of some of the worse shit we’ve got here. Pans, you’ve got to-” Marcus stopped and Pansy strained her ear, wincing as she realized she heard footsteps. Their hold was well hidden, but if it were a Ministry ship, they’d know where to go. “Look, they’re gonna be here any minute. Stay hidden, Pans. Try to stay with the ship, okay? You know the emergency plan, right? You know what to do?”

Pansy bit down on the inside of her cheek, running back through the endless lectures, Draco’s insistence on contingency and his stern reminders to ‘guard this ship with your fucking life, but don’t fucking die for it, am I clear?’. “Yeah,” Pansy managed to whisper back, trying to think if she could get them out of it. She couldn’t override Ministry engine blocks. It just wasn’t done. Maybe with enough time, but… not like this. Not when it could mean the lives of her men. Her crew.

Her heart lurched and she was reminded, again, that she hadn’t actually expected this. To be caught, maybe. Or to care if they were. The ship had been a way out, a way forward. Nothing more.

It shouldn’t hurt like this.

“Pansy!” Marcus was saying again, trying to get her attention.

“I got it, Flint. Follow the plan.”

The footsteps were louder now, and Pansy wasn’t sure if they were headed for her, or just nearly on top of Marcus.

Her heart clenched and she screwed her eyes shut as the only world she’d ever started to love began to crumble around her. “Marcus,” she mumbled, and she had to remind herself that she didn’t cry. Not over anything, especially not over shit like this. It was probably all going to be fine. “Don’t be an idiot, right? I expect to see you exactly when and where I’m s’posed to. You hear me?”

“I got it, Pans. Hey. Maybe when we see each other again, maybe we’ll… we’ll try this out again, eh? You and me?”

Pansy couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe we will. But if you want to fuck me again, you have to do me a little fucking favour and not try and be a fucking martyr and get yourself fucking killed, right?”

Before Marcus could answer, Pansy heard the hold door slam open. She tried not to listen to the gruff voices demanding Marcus back away from the cargo, to the way Marcus tried to laugh them off. Tried not to listen when she heard a gunshot, and she forced herself to reach up and shut off the channel before she heard anything else.

Her brain clicked sluggishly into action. Follow the plan. The engine room was far and away from nearly everything else on her ship thanks to the strange layout. She had time, and so she had a job to do. Delete contacts, clear location logs, erase things the ship shouldn’t be able to forget. Make them as unappealing as possible, empty, a skeleton crew. And then crawl into a space that maybe wouldn’t be noticed, and wait to be found. Or to be left, floating, abandoned for scavengers and thieves, for pirates.

For someone like her.

When Pansy opened her eyes, she was not alone.

It took her a moment to focus on the fact that, only a few inches away from her face, a pair of large steely bright blue eyes were peering down at her. Almost unblinkingly. It took her a moment to realize where she was - crammed into her safety spot, tucked down under a mess and tangle of metal. Frankly, she was shocked someone had even thought to look for her. And then she realized what had happened - the gravity of it all slammed down onto her and she gasped in a breath and reached for her closest kept knife.

And found that her hand was being held back - thin fingers wrapped around her wrist that she hadn’t even noticed. Presumably, she decided, connected to the blue eyes.

“Hmm. Alive after all, it seems,” the person - the man, she now knew - spoke. His voice was professional, clipped and serious. No joking lilt like Marcus, or the rich pompous drawl of Draco and Theo. It was plain, wholly unforgettable.

Pansy panicked. She couldn’t see much more than his face, wasn’t sure if he was Ministry or something worse. “What are you doing on my sh-” and then she paused, swallowed, licked her lips. That wasn’t the right play here. She was alone, had probably been drifting from the lights that flickered across the room on her control panel. This wasn’t the Ministry, or at least - not the main branch. She had to play it better than that. The blue eyes were still watching her and it was starting to become unnerving, and so she finally settled on what seemed like an easy enough question. “Who are you?”

Slowly, the eyes shrank as the man retreated, and then she felt herself being tugged rather unceremoniously out her her hiding space. She was thankful she hadn’t worn her typical work outfit that day, and although she missed the heavy weight of her toolbelt - she could see it glinting out from under where she’d stashed it - it was a good thing. The less culpable she was here, the better. Besides, her looser flowing trousers had more space for hidden knives, and she was thankful for all of those right now.

“None of your business,” the man continued, still holding firmly onto her wrist. He activated a com-device on his other arm and Pansy strained to listen.

“Ten-four, this is Wood, what’s your status?”

“Found a girl - alive, no crew signia. Ministry engine blockers, looks like, nothing of any value down here. No other signs of life that I can see.”

Pansy fought the anger that rose into her chest at his words. Nothing of value? Her ship - no value? She bit her tongue hard to fight from lashing out and worked instead at sliding her hand closer to her favourite knife, working it carefully loose from its sheath.

“Balls. Right, thanks Per-er, thanks, Weasley. Bring her up to the deck, nothing of use for us here, gents.”

Pansy noticed the way the man’s cheek twitched at the words from the other side of the comm, and she thought she caught the start of another voice - a frustrated female one from the sound of it - but the comm was off before she had a chance. Clearly, they weren’t usually scavengers, or at least, not very good ones. It was obvious the man, Wood, hadn’t been using code names, and he nearly let her current captor’s full name slip. A big mistake, in this business.

While this Weasley fiddled with his comm - pulling up a map, it seemed - Pansy seized her moment of distraction and shifted in his grip. Before her knife found skin, the taller (much taller, she noticed) man followed her actions and it was gone from her fingers before she had a chance.

“Good try,” he commented, his voice still almost flat. “Not quite good enough, unfortunately. No more of that, let’s go.” And then he had her hands locked together and she cursed under her breath at the use of the device pulsing around her wrists and restricting her movement. They were expensive, beyond the use of most scavengers. She was working with a different level now, and she needed to remember that.

Luckily, as they slipped through the door, she managed to reach out just an inch and hit the most important button on the ship. The one she had put there. If they were very, very lucky, the Ministry would fly out of range or the blocker would give up before the ship was stripped for all she was worth. If she was even luckier still, she’d make it away from whoever her current captors were, and this wouldn’t be the last time she inhaled the smoky air of her home.

Pansy didn’t cry, but today - she was closer than she had ever been.

[literarypsychobabble]

Dr Thomas and Nurse Trevor

LIAM Cora was asleep. And I was having a very hard time not disturbing her and looking away from her long enough to rest or sleep myself. I felt stupid yet each time I saw her again my heart would nose dive into my toes and I wanted to hold her as tightly as I could. I had already memorised the best of her heart, her sweet strawberry and rose scent but also that subtle me-and-nuts undertone that I assumed was the baby. OUR baby. Whenever I looked at her she seemed to glow, green eyes full of sweetness and gentility. I craved the sound of her voice like warm caramel thawing my frozen body and cherishing me in an embrace that I never wanted to have to leave. I watched her with her naturally slightly pouty rose bud mouth, the slender slope of her neck, the pale golden freckles like star kisses patterning wings over her shoulder blades trailing down her spine. Her chestnut hair that was pulled up into a messy and simple knot atop her head, a few loose tendrils having fallen onto her pillow and her long slender nose that ended in a gentle but sharp dainty little point and the sharp lines and gentle edges of her angular but fragile and almost heart shaped feminine face. I stared at her stupidly, awed by the gentle innocence on her face before I recognised the knock on the door followed by the fresh pine and wood scent that made me frown to myself seconds before I gently carried myself out of the bed and down the stairs. I treaded as lightly as possible, avoiding the creaky floorboards and focusing on getting to the door that seemed very far away as quickly as possible. Moonlight splashed in through gaps in curtains like cold milk, urging me onwards to avoid too much exposure before I finally got to the door and opened it, masking my amusement and surprise. Spencer stood on the doorstep dressed in a baggy and holey jumper and jeans, but with bare feet. His dark hair was tousled and his face oddly sheepish, almost. His hands were stuffed uncharacteristically in his pockets and though he towered over me the shadows emphasised things like the sharpness of his cheekbones and the hollowness of his literally empty cheeks despite the broadness of his shoulders and the surprising word I found myself associating with him was small. Spencer looked uncharacteristically young and as though he was about to turn and run blindly into the middle of the road at any second. "Spencer." I stepped back and gestured for him to come in. He hesitated, peering into my face from where he stood. "I wouldn't want to disturb you." I almost laughed. "Since when do you care?" I noticed how serious he remained and almost regretted trying to joke. "You wouldn't be disturbing us so you shouldn't worry about that...." he continued to watch me and I wanted to grab him by the throat and force him to tell me what he was thinking. "Just come in." I avoided the please and turned to look behind me, wondering what he would think of the very cosy house that he seemed to fit into, wildly though. He looked around himself; something I wondered if he even realised he did anymore but I recognised he did this wherever he went almost like survival instincts. I was tempted to say something but bit my tongue instead. He stopped by the door to the living room, hesitant and unlike himself. "You can go in and sit down." I offered. "Or do whatever you want to do to be honest." He seemed lost in thought as he sat down, eventually with his hands splayed in his lap as he seemed to trace patterns into the rug beneath him with his eyes. I was perturbed by this complete change in his persona. He suddenly ran his hands through his hair and seemed to sigh to himself and slump back, teeth clenched firmly as he looked directly at me, green eyes weary. "I need your help." I blanched momentarily; what could SPENCER need MY help for? Spencer had made it clear he needed no one's help. "I need your help because something is amiss." I nodded slowly and carefully. "Well I'm.......you don't normally seem to need anyone's help so this is...well you aren't being a sarcastic prick and you seem to genuinely want help." Of course I was going to state the obvious and make things weird. "I do." He closed his eyes. "These wolf attacks." I shifted as I thought about Cora and the baby. "It isn't from the pack, not even Thornton, the newcomer is capable of this. I know Thomas isn't the sort to attack, nor is James or Trevor or even Jim. What's more, the attacker is a female wolf." "So..it's just a normal wolf?" Were there even wolves in this part of England? He just stared at me, not speaking and I wondered if he was even here or lost somewhere in his head. "No." He seemed to suppress a yawn. "She is one of us." He pursed his lips. "Unfortunately I can't read her thoughts. She's very distressed and possibly dying, however I feel as she feels and I experience things she experiences...or so I would assume YET I am unable to actually understand where she is. I have come close to her at various times but have never managed to cross paths with her but it seems she sees me because I can often access those tangles of her thoughts." He paused as though it took him effort to put together the right words. "Policemen who knew how it all started all those years ago have become involved again and I have a feeling that if someone finds out what we are we could find ourselves locked up and used as lab rats." He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, pursing his lips before he shook his head. "No one deserves that..." "But surely they wouldn't be ALLOWED to experiment on us." He met my eyes, staring chillingly at me and I noticed the buttery golden flecks in his green eyes. "What are we, Walters?" I blanched. "Humans who become wolves." "Yes what else?" He seemed on the verge of impatience. I struggled to find the words he needed and almost expected him to roll his eyes and sigh. "We are dead." His stare was deadly itself, cold, hard and emotionless. "We are dead but somehow still alive." "That doesn't give them r-" "Dead people have no rights." His tone was nonchalant and unbothered, somehow making me angry. "We aren't humans who have any rights and of course bring dead means we don't apparently have anything else to do. We become the lab rats of a nation. History repeats itself." "What if we tell someone-" He suddenly smiled; the unsettling broken spark that made me feel unnerved. "We can write to them for a meeting and turn up to discuss matters with them." I felt flustered as I realised he was being sarcastic. "Spencer you CAME to me asking for help....I don't even know WHY I'm here or WHY this is actually happening....so PLEASE enlighten me and explain to me what exactly you somehow expect me to say or do. I know as little about any of this as you...maybe even less!" I shrugged for emphasis but was suddenly feeling a tight coil of rage deep within my gut. "Spencer we don't even know who YOU are or where you're from yet you're somehow our alpha and you have no past...no connection and I hate to be a bearer of bad news but that puts a funny taste in my mouth for one...." He looked stoic and unshaken. "I have no one Liam I have no past-" "So you're saying you just fell out of the sky?" He seemed momentarily troubled. I stared at him unblinkingly. He finally looked up at me, green eyes somber. "I watched my mother burn alive." He offered. I was struck by a sudden jolt of pity for him that I quickly forced myself to recover from. "And I was....used for a bit...to understand how things work..." he seemed oddly unbothered by what he said. "I escaped. I broke my leg. I was small. And I survived." He sounded as though he was reading off the back of a milk carton. "You technically aren't dead then." I finally offered. He glanced up at me from where he had been looking at the carpet and his face took on his usual haughty stare. "So you say. Life gets tiring when you live with no connections. Although I never want any....I wish you all the best with your family." I was tempted to apologise to him but instead I bit my tongue. "But we really do need to understand what is happening here." He added, face drifting into firm seriousness again. "Is she like everyone else though? Did she die and become like us?" He shook his head slowly. "But she's dying now, the change hasn't agreed with her and she is struggling alone. It's almost like cancer with the symptoms and she's drawn to mercilessly attacking as many people as possible." "And you can't connect with her?" He shook his head wearily. "I need to stop her before she gets us all caught." "We." He looked confused. "We need to stop her." He seemed to contemplate smiling but then shrugged instead. "I should let you get back." He glanced at the ceiling and gave me a thoughtful look. "You have something special. Please don't let it go to waste." I frowned bemusedly, when I finally looked up again he was gone and had melted into the night itself. "What are you up to Spencer?" "Liam?" Her voice made my heart lurch. I struggled to stop the smile stretched across my face. "I'm here!" I called out to her, tempted to bound up the stairs and scoop her into my arms and hold her as close to my heart as possible. "I couldn't sleep so I came downstairs so I wouldn't wake you up." She was quiet, which made me start moving closer to the stairs. "I just wondered where you were." She continued. "I miss you and I kind of maybe love you just a little bit too much so not having you here right now is driving me crazy." I almost chuckled to myself as I finally started making my way up the stairs, feeling a funny pang close to my heart as I remembered Spencer's words and expression. * ALICE I was staring into the trees that reminded me weirdly of accusatory fingers being pointed at the bloated moon to swear that it was the reason the sun had fallen out of the sky and thinking about the odd predicament of everything when Jim's face suddenly bobbed into view. Shock almost ripped a scream from my mouth as I toppled backwards away from the window and he used his arms, very pale long fingered hands latching onto either side of my window and his awkwardly long and skinny legs to kick into my room and then heaved the rest of his body in as well, shaking dead leaves and twigs from his hair as he landed with a boney CLUNK on the floor. He smelt strongly of sweet, ripe apples and I found myself wondering what exactly he had been up to. "Sorry." He finally offered sheepishly once he had collected himself and looked around him at my room. "I um....got into something stupid." Like apple juice. Did all rockstars bathe themselves in apple juice? I noticed his face was flushed and he looked uncomfortable. "Well you smell like you showered in apple juice. Or is that normal....I mean I know for a fact that apple juice has less calories than orange juice so I don't know maybe this is some odd diet fad you picked up on as a....rockstar or whatever but I don't think you should overdo it." I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to tell me what he had been doing and why. I was also apparently unable to shut up and my sense of humour was bad enough to make a hyena cry. He smiled at me. "Do all women know random things like how little calories apple juice has?" He seemed to want to have a conversation with me; someone who was as capable of conversation as a teapot. I shrugged and stepped back slightly, acting as nonchalant as I had never even felt. "Anyway I was hunting and sensed something weird so I....kind of ran and am....finding my way through your bedroom window when that's totally fucking stupid and I'm just sorry about this because....it just seems fucking weird..all of it and we gotta random human who deserves a better life-" he ran a hand through his hair and flicked his head back to shake his fringe off his face before giving me a close mouthed, square grin. "Well, none of it IS fair you know; it's life and life itself isn't likely to be fair at all. Besides I get free bodyguards in a way and furry buddies who are actually really nice to get on with." I caught his eye and smiled. "Life isn't all that bad." And I was still saying really weird things and seemed to have forgotten how to shut up. He frowned imploringly, looking out of the window and sighed. "You shouldn't feel like you don't belong." There they were; the words I had wanted to say to him for so long because of how he had spent so long just staring at everyone but quickly looking away as though he felt intrusive. His eyes widened and I felt like I was yanking at hidden strings in his chest, making his breath catch in his throat. "What?!" My face felt hotter as I looked up at him, regretting what I said. He was watching me as though I had just sprouted tentacles and started doing the cha-cha slide on a flimsy straw without somehow bending it. I could feel him taking in every single part of my face and body; maybe he really was looking for tentacles, but I was very boring. "So where are you from?" "England." I offered, realising my words were sharp with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes. "No I mean...you're as mysterious as Spencer is." "Mysterious..." I was stuck in a web of thoughts as I peered up at the moon past his shoulder, having grown used to the painfully strong scent of apples he was literally radiating I no longer sensed it; of course for some odd reason I would seem like Spencer? I was nothing like him. "So do you normally just have one word answers for everything?" He teased, eyes flashing. "No I just...don't really have much of a past." I gave him my best smile, aware that it made me look retarded. "My parents just aren't around much at all. They never were. And I just get by and got by on my own." My parents had had no interest after I reached eighteen they had conveniently slipped away somewhere without letting me even know. I just remembered waking up to a note and an empty house when really we had all been getting ready to move, it seemed I was no longer part of their perfect family. He seemed to frown thoughtfully and I was tempted to say something but bit my tongue instead. I decided it was time to change the subject before I ended up coughing up the truth I had buried so I grabbed the first thing I could remember him saying and decided to stretch it. "Sadly my life isn't really very glamorous and I haven't had anything intense happening in it but you said something about running into something....?" He seemed to flush. "Sorry yeah I don't know what it was but it well I sensed it when I was getting ready to hunt only it seemed....dead but in a very creepy way and I didn't feel comfortable being near it and then I just remember that....it just went oddly still but I could still sense it and it reeks of old garlic and I got this urge to just RUN and yeah I changed back and now I'm in your-" he jumped at the sharp knock on the door and stared at me, blue eyes wide and face almost obscured by the shadows of his fringe. "Come in." I called out, taking a quick step away from him and making sure I looked as though I had been busy doing something else; something that in no way involved Jim being in my room in the middle of the night though I rolled my eyes because something like that was ridiculous. The door was cautiously and carefully opened, it seemed; so as not to disturb even the clammy and already unsettled air in any way. Spencer appeared framed in the doorway, he looked weirdly apologetic but extremely tired as he looked at Jim and me as though he was used to things like seeing completely unexpected people in a room together. Then again in the given circumstances I was standing inside a room with two dead men, one of which was a rockstar, both of them had the ability to turn into wolves and both of them looked as tired as I felt, if not more. Life had never been odder. And yet, this seemed almost perfectly normal. He focused on Jim. His eyes seemed to blaze a brighter green that darkened the room around him and shrunk in the corners as though he had tightened a string around a rolled up canvas. He seemed unable to recognise anything around him and for once it did not matter to me that my room was a boho-vintage explosion of things I owned, books and art hastily flung together with the walls covered in random patches of green wallpaper that did not fit together but somehow the scraps made the perfect collage. I wondered if he noticed the glass bowl full of the pinecones and red plastic petals and flowers, sparkly clean tops of things and all of the things he had ever brought for me as a wolf. I had pinned various random little sketches of him and of how I saw him to one of my walls with a slightly twisted and warped nail that gave the illusion -almost- of a branch that was forced to stick itself through the wall. "Are you alright?" Spencer surprised me by asking, looking at both me and Jim; apparently we were now you. Jim seemed to blanch, as shocked by the kindness as me before he managed to nod and then exchange a wide eyed look with me after which we both faced Spencer's impatient stare. "Yes?" He looked at me again before focusing on Spencer alone. "What did you see?" Spencer paused, eyes bright. "You smell like an apple orchard." That could have been mocking but he seemed genuinely perturbed and curious. Jim pulled a funny face. "I might have fallen into a barrel full of apple juice? Yeah I'm amazed it isn't sticky....or I'm not sticky...." He looked down at his ringed fingers. "I just had this odd feeling something was following me but I had to somehow quickly get away as fast as possible. I only saw....the wolf afterwards? There was something odd about it, it had silver fur and these crazy coal black eyes, DEAD eyes." I could only think, for some reason, of Jim thrashing around in an apple juice barrel; something I had not even known existed. Spencer kept staring at him as though he was leeching the information out of his mind. "Are you hurt?" He asked again, which unnerved me because he seemed so far from his usual haughty self and as though he genuinely cared. "No?" Jim shrugged. "But something tells me if I hadn't gotten away on time I would have been dead." He said this as calmly as someone talking about a slight cold, of course though it also highlighted the sad truth that he was completely fine with death, which seemed sad because he was worth more than death. I wondered if all of the wolves in the pack had the same thoughts. "Silver fur and dead black eyes." Spencer sounded almost mechanic or as though he was reading off a pamphlet. "And the smell of old garl-" Jim stared intently into his eyes. "Cloves." "Yeah." Jim shrugged to himself and looked away from Spencer at the carpet at our feet, frowning to himself thoughtfully. "Where exactly was the apple juice barrel?" Spencer seemed bemused as he raised an eyebrow. "It was a really big barrel-" Jim corrected, flustered and flushing. "I don't know it was just....THERE in the middle of nowhere?" He seemed to swallow nervously, uncomfortable and clearly feeling as though Spencer was mocking him. "I didn't even know it came in barrels or that that was a barrel because I mean it was open and cut in half and just basically....I was running and just fell in while trying to....get away. It was huge." He seemed to be getting more and more flustered as time went on. "Relax." Spencer almost smiled at him. "You are safe and unharmed, I only care about what happens to my pack and you seem ok despite having bathed yourself in apple juice." Jim still seemed sheepish. "And about what Ms Smith was saying earlier." He nodded slowly. "You are as much of this pack as me, as anyone else, which is why I make an effort to include you in every single thing." He pocketed his hands and faced us authoritatively. "And the pack needs to start being careful. Something is out there, and hard times have come." He paused momentarily, looking at each one of us in turn before he walked resolutely out of the door, melting into the shadows of the night. Jim turned to glance at me momentarily before bobbing me an exaggerated courtesy that almost made me smile before he turned to walk out of the door too, closing it behind him. * LIAM I felt myself staring almost dazedly at Thomas, the meek mannered long limbed man with golden blonde curls who was smiling at me nicely enough to make me WANT to trust him with my whole life. His white jumper only added to his Angelic appearance, and I was stupefied by the reality of what was happening until I noticed Spencer stood nearby and then looked at Thomas again who continued to smile at me as he had done before. "So..." I finally managed to tell him. "You're...a....doctor." I realised he would be seeing to Cora and finally managed to find the smile tucked away inside one of my cheeks. "Yes." He offered jovially. "Or I was until I stuck a needle in my arm and died of a heart attack. And I woke up on the back of a pick up with Spencer sitting next to me looking bored. I handle any kind of illnesses and issues amongst our kind and make sure everything runs smoothly." "Spencer advised me to bring Cora to you." I finally managed, feeling that familiar jolt in my chest as my heart rolled into my mouth and my face flushed, as it always did whenever I realised I was going to be a dad. When I was younger, I recalled fearing impending fatherhood because I felt it came with this red hot invisible sticker that somehow screamed 'WE HAD SEX' but now, it seemed oddly normal. Was I meant to tell Thomas why I had to bring Cora to him? Thomas was flipping through a thick leather book and suddenly stopped, a thick page caught in between two fingers as he looked up at me almost thoughtfully. "I take it this is your first time handling something like this?" I felt my face turn warmer and looked at the thick yellowish page he was holding for something to do; amused by the intricate diagrams on the page in jet black ink. "Yes." He seemed oddly unperturbed, which for some reason made me feel like someone had a string tied to the tip of my spine and was yanking me to sit up ramrod straight when I felt as lifeless and floppy as a puppet. "It isn't an easy situation." He glanced at the book before him. "How far along is she?" "Two months." I managed to somehow pull the worlds out of the corner of my mouth where I had been pointlessly chewing on the reality of what was happening for a very long time. "This isn't like a normal pregnancy. The baby is much bigger. You'll be seeing a lot of steady and rapid movement soon, if you haven't already. She'll be craving things that are odd but almost exactly based on what the baby needs for foetal development, in more ways than one the baby is making itself known and will do. Gestation will be anywhere from six to eight and a half months....but it isn't going to be an easy delivery. She may need a lot of help and someone on hand and she just needs to be really careful. Also if this wolf that attacked her or whatever it was that attacked her attacked her once, it could do it again so she needs to be closely watched....it could become a Komodo dragon situation..." I choked awkwardly and fought to steady myself before I had a coughing fit, realising that for some reason I had been holding my breath and cleared my throat, forcing myself to look at him. "How on earth are we going to handle the whole delivery?" "You should have considered that a few months ago." Spencer threw my way barely audibly and I noticed he had sat down at the table at some point. I rolled my eyes at him and ignored him, focusing on Thomas. "James and Trevor are nurses." He offered matter of factly while acting as though he was not necessarily even talking to me. "Trevor's a band mate of Jim's though-" "That doesn't mean he can't be a nurse." Spencer offered almost as though he was bored. I looked at him studiously, struggling to understand what he was trying to do. He was looking down at the book with an amused expression on his face. I wanted to shout at him to look at me, be serious and tell me exactly what was happening because he knew. He finally did look up, green eyes bright. "This is the first time something like this has ever happened. You can't really expect me to gave all the answers to everything. I did tell you this wasn't an easy pregnancy." I was angry at life, but turned my scowl into a pointed smile, my eyes fiery. "Well now we're left with no option and you're kind of the alpha-" He looked pointedly at Thomas who muttered something about having to water his socks and disappeared, gently tugging the door shut behind him. I felt slightly sick in the silence that followed. "So you want to know what happens." "Yes. I think it's only my right to know what happens because I'm a part of it all Spencer in case you haven't quite realised-" He continued to look amused. I opened my mouth but quickly snapped it shut over a retort, instead firmly holding his gaze. "All records state that childbirth is going to kill her. There are even gruesome tales of how the baby eats its way into existence." He seemed so unbothered by what he said I wanted to grab him by his shoulders and shake him. "But there were over fifty cases of women who had similar babies. Their pregnancies lasted six months...wolf pregnancies last a little over two months but this child is still partially human so that's a total of six months, everything about it is exaggerated and fast. She'll be fine. So will the baby." He seemed thoughtful. "You're going to have to be present when the baby is born....he or she is going to form this bond with you as the father that is like a survival instinct but will mean that no matter what happens you'll always find each other." "This sounds like something I read in a fucking book once. Only it's..." "This is reality Walters. It does odd things to you." "Ok then..." I felt a tight knot inside me open and leaned forwards towards him slightly. "Who was Maddo-" "Liam!" He looked up. I spun around. Cora flew in, the door flying open as she flew across the room to where I stood, eyes wet with tears. "Cora-" I felt myself stiffen as I fought the urge to change to protect her; how it would protect her I would never even know. She suddenly grabbed one of my hands tightly enough to hurt me. My eyes widened as she stared down at me fiercely, the setting sun bejewelling her hair in sparks of golden flames that blazed intoxicatingly in her green eyes. She gently steered my hand over to the smooth skin of her bump. I stared up at her, not daring to look away from her crazy eyes because I had no idea what she wanted. And then I felt it too. My heart stuttered to a stop. "Fuck..." the baby was moving. Making itself known. The crazy movement against my hand under her smooth flesh made my pulse sing. And my vision blur....until I fainted again.

[literarypsychobabble]

Dr Thomas and nurse Trevor

LIAM Cora was asleep. And I was having a very hard time not disturbing her and looking away from her long enough to rest or sleep myself. I felt stupid yet each time I saw her again my heart would nose dive into my toes and I wanted to hold her as tightly as I could. I had already memorised the best of her heart, her sweet strawberry and rose scent but also that subtle me-and-nuts undertone that I assumed was the baby. OUR baby. Whenever I looked at her she seemed to glow, green eyes full of sweetness and gentility. I craved the sound of her voice like warm caramel thawing my frozen body and cherishing me in an embrace that I never wanted to have to leave. I watched her with her naturally slightly pouty rose bud mouth, the slender slope of her neck, the pale golden freckles like star kisses patterning wings over her shoulder blades trailing down her spine. Her chestnut hair that was pulled up into a messy and simple knot atop her head, a few loose tendrils having fallen onto her pillow and her long slender nose that ended in a gentle but sharp dainty little point and the sharp lines and gentle edges of her angular but fragile and almost heart shaped feminine face. I stared at her stupidly, awed by the gentle innocence on her face before I recognised the knock on the door followed by the fresh pine and wood scent that made me frown to myself seconds before I gently carried myself out of the bed and down the stairs. I treaded as lightly as possible, avoiding the creaky floorboards and focusing on getting to the door that seemed very far away as quickly as possible. Moonlight splashed in through gaps in curtains like cold milk, urging me onwards to avoid too much exposure before I finally got to the door and opened it, masking my amusement and surprise. Spencer stood on the doorstep dressed in a baggy and holey jumper and jeans, but with bare feet. His dark hair was tousled and his face oddly sheepish, almost. His hands were stuffed uncharacteristically in his pockets and though he towered over me the shadows emphasised things like the sharpness of his cheekbones and the hollowness of his literally empty cheeks despite the broadness of his shoulders and the surprising word I found myself associating with him was small. Spencer looked uncharacteristically young and as though he was about to turn and run blindly into the middle of the road at any second. "Spencer." I stepped back and gestured for him to come in. He hesitated, peering into my face from where he stood. "I wouldn't want to disturb you." I almost laughed. "Since when do you care?" I noticed how serious he remained and almost regretted trying to joke. "You wouldn't be disturbing us so you shouldn't worry about that...." he continued to watch me and I wanted to grab him by the throat and force him to tell me what he was thinking. "Just come in." I avoided the please and turned to look behind me, wondering what he would think of the very cosy house that he seemed to fit into, wildly though. He looked around himself; something I wondered if he even realised he did anymore but I recognised he did this wherever he went almost like survival instincts. I was tempted to say something but bit my tongue instead. He stopped by the door to the living room, hesitant and unlike himself. "You can go in and sit down." I offered. "Or do whatever you want to do to be honest." He seemed lost in thought as he sat down, eventually with his hands splayed in his lap as he seemed to trace patterns into the rug beneath him with his eyes. I was perturbed by this complete change in his persona. He suddenly ran his hands through his hair and seemed to sigh to himself and slump back, teeth clenched firmly as he looked directly at me, green eyes weary. "I need your help." I blanched momentarily; what could SPENCER need MY help for? Spencer had made it clear he needed no one's help. "I need your help because something is amiss." I nodded slowly and carefully. "Well I'm.......you don't normally seem to need anyone's help so this is...well you aren't being a sarcastic prick and you seem to genuinely want help." Of course I was going to state the obvious and make things weird. "I do." He closed his eyes. "These wolf attacks." I shifted as I thought about Cora and the baby. "It isn't from the pack, not even Thornton, the newcomer is capable of this. I know Thomas isn't the sort to attack, nor is James or Trevor or even Jim. What's more, the attacker is a female wolf." "So..it's just a normal wolf?" Were there even wolves in this part of England? He just stared at me, not speaking and I wondered if he was even here or lost somewhere in his head. "No." He seemed to suppress a yawn. "She is one of us." He pursed his lips. "Unfortunately I can't read her thoughts. She's very distressed and possibly dying, however I feel as she feels and I experience things she experiences...or so I would assume YET I am unable to actually understand where she is. I have come close to her at various times but have never managed to cross paths with her but it seems she sees me because I can often access those tangles of her thoughts." He paused as though it took him effort to put together the right words. "Policemen who knew how it all started all those years ago have become involved again and I have a feeling that if someone finds out what we are we could find ourselves locked up and used as lab rats." He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, pursing his lips before he shook his head. "No one deserves that..." "But surely they wouldn't be ALLOWED to experiment on us." He met my eyes, staring chillingly at me and I noticed the buttery golden flecks in his green eyes. "What are we, Walters?" I blanched. "Humans who become wolves." "Yes what else?" He seemed on the verge of impatience. I struggled to find the words he needed and almost expected him to roll his eyes and sigh. "We are dead." His stare was deadly itself, cold, hard and emotionless. "We are dead but somehow still alive." "That doesn't give them r-" "Dead people have no rights." His tone was nonchalant and unbothered, somehow making me angry. "We aren't humans who have any rights and of course bring dead means we don't apparently have anything else to do. We become the lab rats of a nation. History repeats itself." "What if we tell someone-" He suddenly smiled; the unsettling broken spark that made me feel unnerved. "We can write to them for a meeting and turn up to discuss matters with them." I felt flustered as I realised he was being sarcastic. "Spencer you CAME to me asking for help....I don't even know WHY I'm here or WHY this is actually happening....so PLEASE enlighten me and explain to me what exactly you somehow expect me to say or do. I know as little about any of this as you...maybe even less!" I shrugged for emphasis but was suddenly feeling a tight coil of rage deep within my gut. "Spencer we don't even know who YOU are or where you're from yet you're somehow our alpha and you have no past...no connection and I hate to be a bearer of bad news but that puts a funny taste in my mouth for one...." He looked stoic and unshaken. "I have no one Liam I have no past-" "So you're saying you just fell out of the sky?" He seemed momentarily troubled. I stared at him unblinkingly. He finally looked up at me, green eyes somber. "I watched my mother burn alive." He offered. I was struck by a sudden jolt of pity for him that I quickly forced myself to recover from. "And I was....used for a bit...to understand how things work..." he seemed oddly unbothered by what he said. "I escaped. I broke my leg. I was small. And I survived." He sounded as though he was reading off the back of a milk carton. "You technically aren't dead then." I finally offered. He glanced up at me from where he had been looking at the carpet and his face took on his usual haughty stare. "So you say. Life gets tiring when you live with no connections. Although I never want any....I wish you all the best with your family." I was tempted to apologise to him but instead I bit my tongue. "But we really do need to understand what is happening here." He added, face drifting into firm seriousness again. "Is she like everyone else though? Did she die and become like us?" He shook his head slowly. "But she's dying now, the change hasn't agreed with her and she is struggling alone. It's almost like cancer with the symptoms and she's drawn to mercilessly attacking as many people as possible." "And you can't connect with her?" He shook his head wearily. "I need to stop her before she gets us all caught." "We." He looked confused. "We need to stop her." He seemed to contemplate smiling but then shrugged instead. "I should let you get back." He glanced at the ceiling and gave me a thoughtful look. "You have something special. Please don't let it go to waste." I frowned bemusedly, when I finally looked up again he was gone and had melted into the night itself. "What are you up to Spencer?" "Liam?" Her voice made my heart lurch. I struggled to stop the smile stretched across my face. "I'm here!" I called out to her, tempted to bound up the stairs and scoop her into my arms and hold her as close to my heart as possible. "I couldn't sleep so I came downstairs so I wouldn't wake you up." She was quiet, which made me start moving closer to the stairs. "I just wondered where you were." She continued. "I miss you and I kind of maybe love you just a little bit too much so not having you here right now is driving me crazy." I almost chuckled to myself as I finally started making my way up the stairs, feeling a funny pang close to my heart as I remembered Spencer's words and expression. * ALICE I was staring into the trees that reminded me weirdly of accusatory fingers being pointed at the bloated moon to swear that it was the reason the sun had fallen out of the sky and thinking about the odd predicament of everything when Jim's face suddenly bobbed into view. Shock almost ripped a scream from my mouth as I toppled backwards away from the window and he used his arms, very pale long fingered hands latching onto either side of my window and his awkwardly long and skinny legs to kick into my room and then heaved the rest of his body in as well, shaking dead leaves and twigs from his hair as he landed with a boney CLUNK on the floor. He smelt strongly of sweet, ripe apples and I found myself wondering what exactly he had been up to. "Sorry." He finally offered sheepishly once he had collected himself and looked around him at my room. "I um....got into something stupid." Like apple juice. Did all rockstars bathe themselves in apple juice? I noticed his face was flushed and he looked uncomfortable. "Well you smell like you showered in apple juice. Or is that normal....I mean I know for a fact that apple juice has less calories than orange juice so I don't know maybe this is some odd diet fad you picked up on as a....rockstar or whatever but I don't think you should overdo it." I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to tell me what he had been doing and why. I was also apparently unable to shut up and my sense of humour was bad enough to make a hyena cry. He smiled at me. "Do all women know random things like how little calories apple juice has?" He seemed to want to have a conversation with me; someone who was as capable of conversation as a teapot. I shrugged and stepped back slightly, acting as nonchalant as I had never even felt. "Anyway I was hunting and sensed something weird so I....kind of ran and am....finding my way through your bedroom window when that's totally fucking stupid and I'm just sorry about this because....it just seems fucking weird..all of it and we gotta random human who deserves a better life-" he ran a hand through his hair and flicked his head back to shake his fringe off his face before giving me a close mouthed, square grin. "Well, none of it IS fair you know; it's life and life itself isn't likely to be fair at all. Besides I get free bodyguards in a way and furry buddies who are actually really nice to get on with." I caught his eye and smiled. "Life isn't all that bad." And I was still saying really weird things and seemed to have forgotten how to shut up. He frowned imploringly, looking out of the window and sighed. "You shouldn't feel like you don't belong." There they were; the words I had wanted to say to him for so long because of how he had spent so long just staring at everyone but quickly looking away as though he felt intrusive. His eyes widened and I felt like I was yanking at hidden strings in his chest, making his breath catch in his throat. "What?!" My face felt hotter as I looked up at him, regretting what I said. He was watching me as though I had just sprouted tentacles and started doing the cha-cha slide on a flimsy straw without somehow bending it. I could feel him taking in every single part of my face and body; maybe he really was looking for tentacles, but I was very boring. "So where are you from?" "England." I offered, realising my words were sharp with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes. "No I mean...you're as mysterious as Spencer is." "Mysterious..." I was stuck in a web of thoughts as I peered up at the moon past his shoulder, having grown used to the painfully strong scent of apples he was literally radiating I no longer sensed it; of course for some odd reason I would seem like Spencer? I was nothing like him. "So do you normally just have one word answers for everything?" He teased, eyes flashing. "No I just...don't really have much of a past." I gave him my best smile, aware that it made me look retarded. "My parents just aren't around much at all. They never were. And I just get by and got by on my own." My parents had had no interest after I reached eighteen they had conveniently slipped away somewhere without letting me even know. I just remembered waking up to a note and an empty house when really we had all been getting ready to move, it seemed I was no longer part of their perfect family. He seemed to frown thoughtfully and I was tempted to say something but bit my tongue instead. I decided it was time to change the subject before I ended up coughing up the truth I had buried so I grabbed the first thing I could remember him saying and decided to stretch it. "Sadly my life isn't really very glamorous and I haven't had anything intense happening in it but you said something about running into something....?" He seemed to flush. "Sorry yeah I don't know what it was but it well I sensed it when I was getting ready to hunt only it seemed....dead but in a very creepy way and I didn't feel comfortable being near it and then I just remember that....it just went oddly still but I could still sense it and it reeks of old garlic and I got this urge to just RUN and yeah I changed back and now I'm in your-" he jumped at the sharp knock on the door and stared at me, blue eyes wide and face almost obscured by the shadows of his fringe. "Come in." I called out, taking a quick step away from him and making sure I looked as though I had been busy doing something else; something that in no way involved Jim being in my room in the middle of the night though I rolled my eyes because something like that was ridiculous. The door was cautiously and carefully opened, it seemed; so as not to disturb even the clammy and already unsettled air in any way. Spencer appeared framed in the doorway, he looked weirdly apologetic but extremely tired as he looked at Jim and me as though he was used to things like seeing completely unexpected people in a room together. Then again in the given circumstances I was standing inside a room with two dead men, one of which was a rockstar, both of them had the ability to turn into wolves and both of them looked as tired as I felt, if not more. Life had never been odder. And yet, this seemed almost perfectly normal. He focused on Jim. His eyes seemed to blaze a brighter green that darkened the room around him and shrunk in the corners as though he had tightened a string around a rolled up canvas. He seemed unable to recognise anything around him and for once it did not matter to me that my room was a boho-vintage explosion of things I owned, books and art hastily flung together with the walls covered in random patches of green wallpaper that did not fit together but somehow the scraps made the perfect collage. I wondered if he noticed the glass bowl full of the pinecones and red plastic petals and flowers, sparkly clean tops of things and all of the things he had ever brought for me as a wolf. I had pinned various random little sketches of him and of how I saw him to one of my walls with a slightly twisted and warped nail that gave the illusion -almost- of a branch that was forced to stick itself through the wall. "Are you alright?" Spencer surprised me by asking, looking at both me and Jim; apparently we were now you. Jim seemed to blanch, as shocked by the kindness as me before he managed to nod and then exchange a wide eyed look with me after which we both faced Spencer's impatient stare. "Yes?" He looked at me again before focusing on Spencer alone. "What did you see?" Spencer paused, eyes bright. "You smell like an apple orchard." That could have been mocking but he seemed genuinely perturbed and curious. Jim pulled a funny face. "I might have fallen into a barrel full of apple juice? Yeah I'm amazed it isn't sticky....or I'm not sticky...." He looked down at his ringed fingers. "I just had this odd feeling something was following me but I had to somehow quickly get away as fast as possible. I only saw....the wolf afterwards? There was something odd about it, it had silver fur and these crazy coal black eyes, DEAD eyes." I could only think, for some reason, of Jim thrashing around in an apple juice barrel; something I had not even known existed. Spencer kept staring at him as though he was leeching the information out of his mind. "Are you hurt?" He asked again, which unnerved me because he seemed so far from his usual haughty self and as though he genuinely cared. "No?" Jim shrugged. "But something tells me if I hadn't gotten away on time I would have been dead." He said this as calmly as someone talking about a slight cold, of course though it also highlighted the sad truth that he was completely fine with death, which seemed sad because he was worth more than death. I wondered if all of the wolves in the pack had the same thoughts. "Silver fur and dead black eyes." Spencer sounded almost mechanic or as though he was reading off a pamphlet. "And the smell of old garl-" Jim stared intently into his eyes. "Cloves." "Yeah." Jim shrugged to himself and looked away from Spencer at the carpet at our feet, frowning to himself thoughtfully. "Where exactly was the apple juice barrel?" Spencer seemed bemused as he raised an eyebrow. "It was a really big barrel-" Jim corrected, flustered and flushing. "I don't know it was just....THERE in the middle of nowhere?" He seemed to swallow nervously, uncomfortable and clearly feeling as though Spencer was mocking him. "I didn't even know it came in barrels or that that was a barrel because I mean it was open and cut in half and just basically....I was running and just fell in while trying to....get away. It was huge." He seemed to be getting more and more flustered as time went on. "Relax." Spencer almost smiled at him. "You are safe and unharmed, I only care about what happens to my pack and you seem ok despite having bathed yourself in apple juice." Jim still seemed sheepish. "And about what Ms Smith was saying earlier." He nodded slowly. "You are as much of this pack as me, as anyone else, which is why I make an effort to include you in every single thing." He pocketed his hands and faced us authoritatively. "And the pack needs to start being careful. Something is out there, and hard times have come." He paused momentarily, looking at each one of us in turn before he walked resolutely out of the door, melting into the shadows of the night. Jim turned to glance at me momentarily before bobbing me an exaggerated courtesy that almost made me smile before he turned to walk out of the door too, closing it behind him. * LIAM I felt myself staring almost dazedly at Thomas, the meek mannered long limbed man with golden blonde curls who was smiling at me nicely enough to make me WANT to trust him with my whole life. His white jumper only added to his Angelic appearance, and I was stupefied by the reality of what was happening until I noticed Spencer stood nearby and then looked at Thomas again who continued to smile at me as he had done before. "So..." I finally managed to tell him. "You're...a....doctor." I realised he would be seeing to Cora and finally managed to find the smile tucked away inside one of my cheeks. "Yes." He offered jovially. "Or I was until I stuck a needle in my arm and died of a heart attack. And I woke up on the back of a pick up with Spencer sitting next to me looking bored. I handle any kind of illnesses and issues amongst our kind and make sure everything runs smoothly." "Spencer advised me to bring Cora to you." I finally managed, feeling that familiar jolt in my chest as my heart rolled into my mouth and my face flushed, as it always did whenever I realised I was going to be a dad. When I was younger, I recalled fearing impending fatherhood because I felt it came with this red hot invisible sticker that somehow screamed 'WE HAD SEX' but now, it seemed oddly normal. Was I meant to tell Thomas why I had to bring Cora to him? Thomas was flipping through a thick leather book and suddenly stopped, a thick page caught in between two fingers as he looked up at me almost thoughtfully. "I take it this is your first time handling something like this?" I felt my face turn warmer and looked at the thick yellowish page he was holding for something to do; amused by the intricate diagrams on the page in jet black ink. "Yes." He seemed oddly unperturbed, which for some reason made me feel like someone had a string tied to the tip of my spine and was yanking me to sit up ramrod straight when I felt as lifeless and floppy as a puppet. "It isn't an easy situation." He glanced at the book before him. "How far along is she?" "Two months." I managed to somehow pull the worlds out of the corner of my mouth where I had been pointlessly chewing on the reality of what was happening for a very long time. "This isn't like a normal pregnancy. The baby is much bigger. You'll be seeing a lot of steady and rapid movement soon, if you haven't already. She'll be craving things that are odd but almost exactly based on what the baby needs for foetal development, in more ways than one the baby is making itself known and will do. Gestation will be anywhere from six to eight and a half months....but it isn't going to be an easy delivery. She may need a lot of help and someone on hand and she just needs to be really careful. Also if this wolf that attacked her or whatever it was that attacked her attacked her once, it could do it again so she needs to be closely watched....it could become a Komodo dragon situation..." I choked awkwardly and fought to steady myself before I had a coughing fit, realising that for some reason I had been holding my breath and cleared my throat, forcing myself to look at him. "How on earth are we going to handle the whole delivery?" "You should have considered that a few months ago." Spencer threw my way barely audibly and I noticed he had sat down at the table at some point. I rolled my eyes at him and ignored him, focusing on Thomas. "James and Trevor are nurses." He offered matter of factly while acting as though he was not necessarily even talking to me. "Trevor's a band mate of Jim's though-" "That doesn't mean he can't be a nurse." Spencer offered almost as though he was bored. I looked at him studiously, struggling to understand what he was trying to do. He was looking down at the book with an amused expression on his face. I wanted to shout at him to look at me, be serious and tell me exactly what was happening because he knew. He finally did look up, green eyes bright. "This is the first time something like this has ever happened. You can't really expect me to gave all the answers to everything. I did tell you this wasn't an easy pregnancy." I was angry at life, but turned my scowl into a pointed smile, my eyes fiery. "Well now we're left with no option and you're kind of the alpha-" He looked pointedly at Thomas who muttered something about having to water his socks and disappeared, gently tugging the door shut behind him. I felt slightly sick in the silence that followed. "So you want to know what happens." "Yes. I think it's only my right to know what happens because I'm a part of it all Spencer in case you haven't quite realised-" He continued to look amused. I opened my mouth but quickly snapped it shut over a retort, instead firmly holding his gaze. "All records state that childbirth is going to kill her. There are even gruesome tales of how the baby eats its way into existence." He seemed so unbothered by what he said I wanted to grab him by his shoulders and shake him. "But there were over fifty cases of women who had similar babies. Their pregnancies lasted six months...wolf pregnancies last a little over two months but this child is still partially human so that's a total of six months, everything about it is exaggerated and fast. She'll be fine. So will the baby." He seemed thoughtful. "You're going to have to be present when the baby is born....he or she is going to form this bond with you as the father that is like a survival instinct but will mean that no matter what happens you'll always find each other." "This sounds like something I read in a fucking book once. Only it's..." "This is reality Walters. It does odd things to you." "Ok then..." I felt a tight knot inside me open and leaned forwards towards him slightly. "Who was Maddo-" "Liam!" He looked up. I spun around. Cora flew in, the door flying open as she flew across the room to where I stood, eyes wet with tears. "Cora-" I felt myself stiffen as I fought the urge to change to protect her; how it would protect her I would never even know. She suddenly grabbed one of my hands tightly enough to hurt me. My eyes widened as she stared down at me fiercely, the setting sun bejewelling her hair in sparks of golden flames that blazed intoxicatingly in her green eyes. She gently steered my hand over to the smooth skin of her bump. I stared up at her, not daring to look away from her crazy eyes because I had no idea what she wanted. And then I felt it too. My heart stuttered to a stop. "Fuck..." the baby was moving. Making itself known. The crazy movement against my hand under her smooth flesh made my pulse sing. And my vision blur....until I fainted again.