#also ‘a sore throat never killed anyone’ is so fun and silly coming from the girl with above average susceptibility to viral infections

[hella1975]

me: yeah i feel horrific but im not SICK haha im fine im just being dramatic. a sore throat never killed anyone haha

my friend immediately upon bumping into me on campus: wow you sound AWFUL

[elenamiria]

The Naboo Sun

Obi-Wan X Reader

Obi-Wan leaves with Master Qui-Gon Jinn to Naboo for their mission. When the mission goes wrong you’re there to help Obi-Wan pick up the pieces, in whatever way you can. 

Read Part 1 - Part 2 here (though not necessary)

Word Count: 7.89k (OOF, it was almost longer but I split it into two)

Warnings: Angst (i’m so sorry😭), Mentions of death, p in v sex, loss of virginity (though it is glossed over), unprotected sex (don't be silly wrap your willy in real life), fluffy ending

We have plot! It’s mainly relationship building as this is the first time we’ve really explored the reader character! I hope you all like it and don’t worry there’s still some good stuff in there  🥰

Also this is officially going to be a series, I already have the next part planned out and currently my plan is to do a few chapters per each important time period (If there are any specific clone wars episodes you want covered let me know)  Tags: @fishswimbetterunderwater @blxwjobsforclones​ @a-dorin​ @obitwo​ (if anyone would prefer not to be tagged just let me know :) )

Obi-Wan was unable to come see you after he had received his orders as he and Master Jinn set off without delay. You were left wondering how long they would be gone and to get the answers you sought you questioned your Master. He didn’t have much information, or he just wasn’t willing to share, only that they were sent to Naboo for negotiations with the Trade Federation and no - he didn’t know how long they would be gone.

You had been in the middle of training when Obi-Wan and Master Jinn had returned. Training was put on pause as your master, Mace Windu, was called to the council for their report. You tagged along hoping to get to see your fellow padawan for even just a few moments, though you were forced to wait outside the chambers; but it wasn’t as if you had anything better to do, Master Windu had made it clear that you would continue your training when he was finished. You aimlessly paced, pausing occasionally to take in the bustling city outside the window - being in the temple it was easy to forget that there was a whole world around you. Finally the chamber doors opened and you turned hopefully, a gleeful smile crossing your face when your eyes met the blue of Obi-Wan’s, who couldn’t help but shoot a grin back. He turned to his master and Qui-Gon gave a brief nod before continuing his path forward, “I’ll be waiting for Anakin to arrive at the front of the temple”.

Obi-Wan nodded and turned to you as you tilted your head, “Anakin? Have you made a new friend Kenobi?”

He offered a small smile and charming laugh before shaking his head, trying to figure out where to start. “Well, I suppose you could call him that. He’s a boy we found on Tatooine, he appears to be very strong with the force and Master Jinn believes he should be trained.”

The two sides of you had started walking down the long hallway outside of the council chambers, rather mindlessly, but at his statement you paused turning towards him confusedly. “Tatooine?? I thought your mission was to Naboo for negotiations?”

“Ah, yes. Well those were cut rather short as the Trade Federation tried to kill us and once we escaped we had to rescue the Queen. However the federation occupation prevented us from traveling directly to the palace so we had to travel through the planet core with help from the a rather unusual Gungan. Once we rescued the Queen we were attempting to come back to Coruscant but sustained damage forcing us to land on Tatooine, which is where Master Jinn met Anakin.”

You looked at him incredulously for a moment as he had said everything so matter of factly and the absurdity of how a simple mission had derailed caused you to burst out into laughter. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what had caused your laughter and nervously tugged at his padawan braid, hoping you weren’t laughing at his semi-failure of the mission. It took a moment for you to stop and when you managed to look at him with a straight face you suddenly felt bad at his rosy cheeked shy expression. Your hand flew to his shoulder in a comforting gesture as you stuttered out, “Oh no, Obi-Wan! I wasn’t laughing at- I just...I don’t know you made it all sound so simple when in reality it sounds like complete chaos! You clearly did very well considering you were completely blindsided by the Trade Federation.”

At this Obi-Wan’s nervousness faded, he wasn’t sure why he thought you were mocking him in the first place (or why the thought of it bothered him so much as in the past he would have simply made fun of you back), and an easy grin fell into place drawling, “Darling you haven’t even heard the half of it! We’re fairly certain we encountered a Sith.”

Your jaw dropped shock once again covering your face, “I thought the Sith died out?”

He was about to answer before you continued abruptly, face softening and hand sliding down his arm to squeeze his hand, “Thank stars you made it back safely!!”

He smiled sweetly at your words and was about to reply before a loud voice called out to you. You turned to see the Council leaving the chamber, your master standing a little ways from the entrance waiting for you. Sighing you dropped his hand and turned back to Obi with a warm smile, “I better go. I don’t think I can weasel my way out of finishing my training with him.”

He laughed a little and nodded, “Go on, hopefully I’ll see you later. Though the council will be testing Anakin tonight though so it may not be until very late.”

As you were about to respond Mace called out to you again and you winced slightly before giving Obi-Wan a teasing wink as you turned to jog towards your master.

As you warmed back up with a few basic stretches you decided to question your master on what Obi-Wan had shared with you. Though you were most curious about the possible re-emergence of the Sith you also were curious on the councils thoughts on this boy from Tatooine. Casually breaching the topic you simply asked, "So this boy they found, do you really think he's as powerful with the force as Master Jinn says he is?"

Your master turned to you as he warmed up as well, "We have no reason to doubt him, we will be testing the boy tonight so We shall see then if he is as strong with the force as Master Qui-Gon believes."

Nodding, you crossed your arm over your body and gently pulled it with your other hand to stretch your shoulder before continuing, "Will he be trained if he is strong with the force?"

Mace sighed, “To be honest Qui-Gon is set on this boy being trained despite the fact that he is far too old to begin training, all we can do is meet the boy and see if he possesses the right disposition and abilities to be trained.”

You nodded thoughtfully as you ignited your saber and started practicing basic stances and swings, “And who would train this boy, surely if he is strong with the force he would require a great teacher to speed his learning?”

Mace shook his head, an amused smile at your probing falling onto his lips before indulging you with a reply, “Well, we have to see if the boy is fit for training first and we’ll go from there. Now, my padawan time to focus on our training.”

Despite his urging to focus the thoughts of a possible sith roaming around gathered in the forefront of your mind. So, as you both prepped to spar you let another question slide innocently out of your mouth, “Is it true the Sith are back?”

Your master gave you a disapproving look before beginning his attack without responding. You parried fairly easily but you knew your master was simply warming up. This only being confirmed as he finished his attack pattern and stating, ‘good, now faster’.

You continued for a few moments, blades moving in opposition and clashing lightly, until Mace pulled back after you locked blades for a few moments - though he could have easily used his superior strength to win the mock battle right there.

You backed off as well trying to anticipate his next move but were startled when he attacked again, this time putting much more of his strength behind his movements. You could sense he had shifted into his preferred style of Form VII in which he had declined to train you in, the moves coming at a rapid speed and much stronger than before. You fell into defending his attacks with tight movements but struggled to find an opening to attack him back. You were quickly being pushed back and after blocking a particularly brutal swing, which made your muscles strain with the power of preventing any impact, Mace swung around to attack your other side which you were just barely able to block. In doing so your footing faltered and seeing a weakness your master slammed into you with his shoulder sending you sprawling to the ground. His saber swung around in a twirl before the tip came to rest just above your throat and your breathing stuttered in shock, you had never been taken down so easily, and the heat of the blade scorched your face. Neither of you moved for a minute and the room was silent apart from the hum of his saber and your panting breath. Finally, Mace deactivated his saber looking like he had taken a light jog whereas you felt like you had gotten hit by a speeder. Groaning you took in how sore your body was, your hand rose to rub at your sternum where you took the hit, Mace had never pushed you that hard before and it was clear you hadn't been prepared. You left an annoyed huff leave your body, though it was only at yourself for letting your guard down as well as your lack of offense throughout the fight. Your Master bent down a bit and held his hand out which you gratefully took, though your shoulders twinged when he pulled you up. Wincing you stretched out your arms and Mace broke the slightly tense silence, “I’m sorry, I should have warned you first Padawan. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just-”

He trailed off with a sigh, looking away and you tilted your head curiously. When he didn’t seem to want to share any further you spoke. “It’s alright Master, while it’s clear my defense is...proficient it appears I need to work on my offensive abilities. Perhaps we could run through attack drills next?”

Mace offered you a smile before clasping your shoulder lightly, “I think we’ve done enough for today and the council will want to meet soon about the boy. Perhaps tomorrow.”

You snorted and gave your master an amused smile, “It’s not like you to turn down my request for more practice, but I’ll gladly take it Master.”

The two of you shared another smile and he started to walk to collect his robe before you called out again, “What were you going to say earlier?”

Mace turned towards you with a small groan, he wasn’t one for admitting his thoughts especially when they revealed soft feelings. He stayed silent for a moment, debating whether or not you would push the issue before remembering you always pushed issues (you were notoriously stubborn). You met his gaze with kind, perceptive eyes, which reminded him why he had taken you as a Padawan in the first place and he caved. Sighing deeply he looked down before admitting, “I was only pushing you that hard because if it’s true, if the Sith have returned, I want you to be able to handle yourself.”

A bright smile covered your face at his admission, you had a feeling it was something along those lines, “With a master like you the Sith wouldn’t stand a chance,” you teased. Though as Mace went to respond (probably to remind you that he had just handed your ass to you) you cut him off with, “Thank you, Master. Truly, for everything you’ve taught me”

Padding towards him you picked up your robe and you were shocked when he pulled you into a very brief hug, pulling away before you could even react his hands rested on your shoulder - an affectionate smile on his face. “Go on before I change my mind about training. And, try to stay out of trouble.”

You sat on your bed flipping through the holobook on Sith you had borrowed from the archives when a rapid knock startled you. Getting up to see who it was you quickly made your way to the door, opening it to reveal Obi-Wan who quickly pushed past you into the room. The door hadn’t even slid shut before he began talking, “The council is sending Qui-Gon and I back to Naboo with the Queen. We’re leaving now but I couldn’t leave without seeing you, there’s not much time, I told my master I had to grab something from my room.”

You laughed as you made your way to him and pulled him into a soft kiss but Obi grasped your hips pulling you as close as possible, deepening the kiss. His tongue swiped against your mouth and you opened to him with a moan. You allowed your lover to explore your mouth as he squeezed your hips harshly, low growl leaving his throat. After several long moments of making out you pulled apart, lips puffed from the force of your kiss and your breath came a bit faster. Swallowing breathlessly you looked up at Obi-Wan with sweet eyes, he smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead whispering into your skin, “you look beautiful”

Laughing, as you were just dressed in your sleep clothes and hair mussed from your pillows, you affectionately cupped his cheek, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips you gave his braid a small tug as you whispered, “you better go before Master Jinn grows suspicious.”

Obi laughed at this as he pulled away, “If I’m being honest I don’t think he bought my excuse for a second.”

You linked hands as you walked a few steps to the door, tenderly kissing the back of his hand, you again stroked his face. Your brow furrowed as you grew serious, feeling uneasy as you uttered, “Obi, please be careful.”

He pressed another kiss to your forehead before humming an assurance and pulling away through the newly opened door. You watched his retreating form, smiling as he turned to wave at you; but as your door slid shut the smile fell from your face. A pit grew in your stomach as you could feel something on the edge of your perception. The force was swirling with a darkness you hadn't felt before and you couldn’t help but feel that something terrible was going to happen. As you turned into your room the uneasy feeling growing you finally identified why you were feeling so sick to your stomach, you were afraid.

Letting out a shaky breath you made your way back to your bed and sitting on it, making yourself comfortable. You closed your eyes and focused on breathing hoping to meditate on your feelings and come to peace. As you began your meditation you could only hope that your intuition was wrong, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled over you.

At some point you had fallen into a restless sleep though you woke early. Unable to fall back into slumber you went through your morning routine and settled with a cup of tea to continue your study of the Sith. Several hours later a curt knock on your door roused you. You were already dressed in your typical attire of over sized loose white blouse and tan high waisted trousers, so you pulled your boots over the pant legs and attached your saber to your large brown belt as you answered the door, already knowing it was your master. As the door slid open you began to talk, having practiced what you wanted to say while you were reading, “I want you to teach me Vaapad, I know that’s what form you were using yesterday and I would like to learn more about it.”

You were met with Mace’s impassive face as he stared at you for a moment. Sighing he turned as you joined him to walk towards the training room. “No, you know it’s dangerous. Besides my Padawan, I do not believe you have the anger nor passion inside of you necessary to fuel the form.”

You didn’t take offense to his words, knowing the passion he talked about was a warped version, but continued your argument. “I may not have the anger inside me but if at some point I did fall into it I would like to know how to productively channel my emotions.”

Quirking a brow at you Master Windu countered, “Preparing to be angry at some point? Should I be concerned?”

You laughed slightly before growing serious, “Last night I felt something dark in the force, it was barely a whisper but I felt it. I couldn’t figure out what it meant and...that made me afraid. I meditated and that abated the feeling, however I want to be prepared in the case that it turns out to be something I can’t shake.”

You chose your words carefully not wanting to concern your master unnecessarily, “I also feel it would be beneficial as yesterday I could defend against the form but I couldn’t find a way to shift to attacking. I feel if I learn at least the basics I will have a better understanding how to effectively fight against it.”

Mace wanted to groan, you made sense and your preparation for his counter arguments left him with little room to disagree - apart from using the ‘no, because I said so’ argument. With a semi-annoyed look he grumbled out, “Remind me why I wanted another padawan.”

You laughed heartily at this knowing you had won the argument, “I believe you picked me because I was ‘a quick learner and I didn't seem like too much trouble’.”

You imitated his voice for the last part and as your master gave you the look while you gave him your best innocent face. You would have continued your teasing if not for reaching the training room. Mace gave you another half-hearted glare before conceding, “Fine, I'll teach you but only the basics. Then I would like for us to focus on Form V I feel it’s best suited for you.”

You trained for the rest of the morning, breaking for lunch and afterwards Master Windu was called for a council meeting. You had just finished washing up when you felt the darkness creeping around the edges of the force again. You were intent on trying to figure out what it was when you felt something else, a deep pain and anguish. Concerned your mind flew to your force bond with your master, worried something had happened but you didn’t sense any distress- he seemed fine. You frowned, confused at what else it could be, it was then that you felt something else - a strong hate. Exhaling shakily you tried to fight back the powerful feelings swirling in you, they were overriding all your senses, but they wouldn’t leave you didn’t even know how they got there in the first place. Desperate for clarity you sat where you stood to meditate, though you focused as best you could peace would not come. Hesitantly and desperate for answers you allowed yourself to embrace your feelings though when you did that it became clear these were not your emotions but from someone else. It was so close yet the answer remained fuzzy. Gasping your eyes flew open with a thought, could this have been Obi-Wan? You weren't aware of you two sharing a force bond though granted your force signatures always seemed to dance in tune with one another but that was to be expected when you were so close. Thinking for a minute you decided to tackle this situation like any other, by gathering as much information as possible to remain prepared. Gathering yourself you headed to the Jedi Library knowing you would be able to find what you needed.

It was there that Master Windu found you, reading intently, several hours later. A grim look on his face and the gentle hand on your shoulder told you all you needed to know, as you had read your suspicions had grown. Looking up at your master and shutting the book you asked, “It’s Master Jinn, isn’t it?”

For a brief moment Mace’s eyes widened and he looked as if he wanted to ask you how you knew but he plowed forward with why he was there - time being of the essence. “Yes, Master Jinn was killed by the Sith. However Kenobi fended off and killed the Sith. The council is going to Naboo and I’d like you to come with us. I believe Padawan Kenobi will need someone by his side to offer support and compassion, while he is very strong the dark side is always a concern, especially when such a devastating loss has occurred.”

You nodded and rose gathering your robe and the holobook. Mace informed you that they were leaving shortly and to meet him at the front of the temple as soon as you were ready and you would be meeting the Council as well as Senator Palpatine at the landing platform by the senate. You rushed through the process of gathering necessary travel essentials, making sure to bring the holobook about force bonds with you, and hurriedly made your way to the speeder Mace was waiting for you in. Once on everyone was on the ship and on the way to Naboo your master made his way to you, intent on questioning how you had known of Master Jinn’s death. Hesitating and weighing your options you concluded your best course of action would be to divulge what you believed to be going on and so you informed him of your probable force bond with Obi-Wan. Mace nodded, seemingly unsurprised, he commented on how the two of you had always been very close and that it was probably only a matter of time, though he made sure to caution you against forming too deep of an attachment. You swallowed deeply and nodded, muttering some reassuring words and hoping he didn’t sense that you were fairly certain both you and Obi-Wan were deeply attached to one another.

When Naboo was reached you let the council and Senator Palpatine exit the ship first, following behind them you waited as Palpatine spoke with Obi-Wan before conversing with the queen. Slowly the platform cleared as the Naboo government went to prepare for the celebrations and the council began speaking to Obi and the boy next to him, you hung back not wanting to eavesdrop after all it would be up to your dear friend to tell you what he felt comfortable sharing. Overall it didn’t take very long before the members of the Council had a clear picture of the events that transpired and they left to deliberate amongst themselves. Only when they departed did Obi-Wan see you standing there. His eyes widened and he took a deep shaky breath so loud you could hear it from several feet away, when you offered him a small sad smile he broke. Your name flew from his mouth, voice cracking, as he ran to you. Arms enveloping you so tightly you were almost knocked off your feet and you returned the embrace fiercely. You buried your face in his neck as one of his hands rose to grasp the back of your head tightly as if you might disappear if he let go. You heard him sniffle softly and you knew he was attempting to keep his emotions in check, pulling back to look at his face your hands rose to clasp his face - fingers delicately wiping stray tears. You searched his eyes to try to glimpse what he was feeling yet all you found was relief and longing pooling in his beautiful blue orbs. For a moment you got lost in their depths, drowning in the ocean of his affection for you. Unconsciously your head tilted, eyes flashing to his lips, and his eyes darting to yours both of you forgetting yourselves. Just as his head tilted opposite yours and you began to close the distance a small voice interrupted you and the veil that had cut you off from the rest of the world was pulled away. You pulled away quickly when you remembered where you were, though one of your hands slid down to rest on the small of Obi-Wan's back comfortingly. When you looked at Obi a scarlet blush covered his face as he looked down at the small boy in front of him. The boy looked between the two of you before repeating himself, “You’re a Jedi too?”

Clearing your throat to clear your own embarrassment, you nodded and squatted to be closer to his level. “Yes, I am a Jedi Padawan.”

You cut yourself off abruptly having almost said ‘just like Obi-Wan’ but remembering the whole reason you were here.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I’m Anakin!”

He replied sticking his hand out with a smile. You gently shook it and gave a kind smile back.

“It’s good to meet you Anakin, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You would have continued your conversation but you were interrupted by your master coming to fetch Obi-Wan to inform him of their decisions. Obi-Wan looked nervously down at Anakin and you were quick to reassure him that you would watch over the boy. Your hand came to rest on Anakin's shoulder as you stood up and as Obi walked away from you both you felt a small hand rest over yours. Looking down you saw his worried face and thought of the perfect distraction for the boy, “Anakin? Would you like to go on an adventure to find our rooms?”

You questioned and shot him a big smile, he looked up at you for a second before nodding and the two of you made your way towards the building you had been told your quarters would be in. As you walked you made small talk with the boy noting his excitement over flying as well as pod-racing, he also talked about building his own droid and you couldn’t help but let him excitedly jump from topic to topic. He only paused when you stopped to ask for directions and then continued excitedly talking though his words grew softer as he started talking about wanting to be a Jedi. Once he trailed off you spoke, “Are you not excited to learn the Jedi ways?”

“It’s not that, Master Qui-Gon said he would train me and now...” He trailed off and you felt your heart ache for him.

“Though I cannot tell what will happen Ani, I promise you we will take care of you. Besides you have me and Obi-Wan to look after you now, no matter what!”

You said reaching down to ruffle his hair with a bright grin, hoping to get a smile from him. You were rewarded with a small laugh and he ducked out of your reach before you could mess his hair any further. By this time you had reached the living quarters and you found them neatly labeled in Basic, stopping at Ani’s you took note that Obi-Wan’s room was directly across the hall from him, yours being next to your fellow Padawan. The two of you walked in and you were just about to excuse yourself when the child turned towards you with a hopeful face. “Maybe, you could stay and we could talk some more?”

You couldn’t possibly say no to the sweet boy and so you sat down on the couch provided in the spacious room and patted the seat next to you. You prompted him with a question about his home and he was off again, talking excitedly about all the little details of his home and telling you about his mother. The two of you became fast friends and you were startled by how much time had passed when someone fetched you for dinner.

Once dinner had been finished and the sun had gone down you knew what was coming. The hospitality at the hands of the Naboo was above expectation, they had arranged the funeral in respect to the Jedi ways, and the group of Jedi (as well as Naboo officials) made your way to the building where the funeral would be held. You had not yet gotten a chance to talk to Obi-Wan yet and you were longing to know what was going on as you stood behind Obi-Wan and next to Anakin. You could feel the grief in the air and you watched as Obi-Wan turned towards Anakin before the boy had even sought comfort. A bittersweet smile crossed your face as Obi-Wan told Anakin that he would be training the young boy, you knew Obi was more than capable of this task but you worried on how much had been thrust on him in such a short amount of time. You had not gotten a chance to talk to Obi and you were longing to know how he was doing with all of this. You hoped he would seek you out but for now you focused your attention back on the fire blazing in front of you, remembering the kind Master who laid before you.

Coming back from the funeral was mostly silent and Obi-Wan retreated to his room without a word. Making sure Ani was tucked in and that he knew if he needed anything he could come to you before retreating to the hallway. Once Anakin's door slid shut you turned, staring at the door labeled Obi-Wan Kenobi. You went to knock but hesitated, instead retreating to your room to prepare for bed not wanting to intrude on him. Once you had gone through your whole routine you paused, walking over to the wall that connected your room to Obi’s and pressed your hand to it sighing lightly. Pressing your forehead to it you exhaled deeply, wishing you could help him, you could feeling the sorrow through your bond and then you heard it. It was as if someone was whispering to you, you focused on the tiny voice and just barely made out what it was saying - ‘I need you, please...please be with me’.

You recognized the voice as Obi-Wan’s and you knew you couldn’t let him be alone. Quickly walking to his door you knocked softly calling out his name. There was no response and you took a moment to listen and again you heard the voice pleading repeating the same words over and over. Opening the door when you received no response and cautiously walking in you paused at the sight of Obi-Wan standing back to you rigid as a board.

You had expected to hear him speaking but when you entered the room it was silent. Though the voice still rang in your head and your eyes filled with tears when you realized you were hearing Obi-Wan’s thoughts.

You padded over to him wrapping your arms around his waist tightly, he startled but leaned back into you once he realized who you were. When you looked over his shoulder you saw he had one hand tightly wrapped around Qui-Gon’s lightsaber and the other was clutching his Padawan braid. You immediately knew what he was trying to do, it was traditional for Master to remove their Padawan’s braid when they were knighted, and suddenly his thoughts made sense as he desperately pleaded for his Master to be with him.

Slipping your arms out from his waist you moved to stand in front of him, hand gently closing over the one holding his braid. His eyes had been tightly scrunched closed but opened to look at you, at his devastated expression you felt hot tears trail down your cheeks. You had to deeply swallow and take a deep breath before you could speak to ask him, “Would you like me to help?”

At your gentle words Obi’s eyes shut again and he nodded quickly. Trying to force back your tears, though they still streamed steady tracks down your face, your other hand rose to wrap around his hand holding the lightsaber.

Obi-Wan activated his fallen Master’s saber, bathing the both of you in green light, and you gently guided the blade to the top of his Padawan braid behind his ear. Taking a deep breath you pulled his hand towards you just barely, a whisper of a movement, and just like that the braid was severed.

The room was still apart from the lightsaber deactivating and his braid fluttering down to drape over your hand. Then in a sudden flurry of movement the new Jedi Knight let go of both hands to wrap himself around you.

Quickly adjusting your grip you kept from dropping either item and crossed your arms around his neck. You felt his body shaking as sobs wracked his body, finally letting go of all the emotion he had been holding back all day. You stayed there, you weren’t sure how long, allowing him to express his deep sorrow and hurt until Obi pulled away from you.

His hands came to stroke gently at your face and then leaning to graze his lips against yours, he pulled the two items from your hand before walking to gently place them on a table - staring at them for a moment longer. He walked back over to you, eyes flickering to the bed briefly but long enough for you to understand what he was silently asking.

You let your hand entwine in his and you led him gently to the bed. With soft tugs and gentle pulls you helped him to shed his clothing until he was just in his underclothes, you were already wearing your nightgown and so you pulled the covers back and slipped into the bed and Obi slid in closely after. Under the sheets your legs entangled pressing closely together and he pulled you into his chest, your hand rising to rest on his collarbone - the other laying over his waist. You rhythmically stroked his sternum until you felt him slip into slumber and when you were sure he was asleep you allowed your eyes to shut as you used your bond to project peace, something you had read in your holobook, hoping to give him a good nights rest; and at some point, draped in his warmth, you yourself fell into sleep.

When you awoke you groggily realized at some point you had changed positions, you now lay on your side with Obi-Wan pressed firmly into your back and his arm around your waist. You groaned slightly and nuzzled down into the pillow not wanting to wake up, you heard an amused laugh and felt Obi-Wan’s thumb gently stroking your tummy. You lazily tilted your head up to try to look at him but Obi was one step ahead of you and had propped his upper body up enough so that he was able to capture your mouth is a sweet kiss. You moaned softly, still not entirely awake, and his hand trailed up the side of your body coming to grasp your chin lightly to hold you to him. As the kiss grew heated you flipped to face him, just barely breaking apart before connecting lips again, and Obi took this opportunity to fluidly slide onto his back pulling you to rest on top of him.

When you finally pulled apart your eyes slid back open, having remained sleepily shut through the readjustments, and you were met with the sunrise gleaming angelically over Obi-Wan’s face. You let out a pleased sigh when he pulled your body close to him and began to trail kisses down your throat, nipping slightly, as his hands held your waist. You needed more and so you gently grasped one of his hands to slip it under your nightgown, that was all the encouragement Obi-Wan needed and his other hand followed pushing your dress up in his path to reach your breasts. As he groped at your chest, teasingly pinching your nipples, his mouth moved down to your collarbone and finally trailing to nip at your hardened nipple through the light silk covering it.

You moaned, hips grinding against his growing erection, as he teased you with both his hands and mouth.

He repeated the gentle nips on the other breast until you jolted forward ripping the dress up over your body, desperate for his mouth on your bare skin. The attention on your chest had gotten you thoroughly soaked and you could feel his hard thick length pressing against you.

With a breathy moan you trailed your hand down to palm at him through his underwear, he let out a deep hoarse groan and quickly flipped the two of you over, tearing your underwear down with your approval and a quiet growl left his throat at how soaked your underwear were. He started pressing soft kisses down the length of your body until he reached your dripping cunt and shyly you tried to close your legs but he gently grasped your thighs whispering, “Let me take care of you darling, please”

His tone was so earnest, his eyes shining with pure adoration, and so you bit your lip as you nodded - allowing your knees to fall apart.

Obi-Wan let his fingers run up and down your slit softly, gathering your wetness before finding your clit and rubbing it like you had shown him before, giving you just the right amount of pressure. Sharp inhales filled the air as you felt yourself growing wetter and when Obi licked a tentative stripe up your pussy your hand flew to his head. He pulled away slightly, worried you didn't like it, until you desperately whimpered out a plea to keep going. Obi’s mouth returned to you experimentally licking and swirling his tongue around you, listening to every cry you gave him. Growing more confident he lapped at you with a bit more pressure, teasing at your hole. As your nails lightly scratched at his scalp in pleasure he removed his fingers from your clit and tentatively sucked it, you let out a loud cry as pleasure shot through you.

You could feel your orgasm building rapidly and you panted out encouragements as he continued his motions, though this time sinking a finger into you. Gently teasing he crooked his finger inside of you, hitting something that made your vision go blurry for a second, as you clenched around him he pulled out before sinking back in this time with two fingers. Pumping steadily he pulled his head back for just a moment to catch his breath and to take in your beautiful expression of bliss.

His tongue returned as he began to gently scissor his fingers stretching you until he added a third. It was when he started swirling his hot tongue around your clit that you clenched around him, cumming and biting your hand to keep from crying out too loudly. Again he sucked lightly on your clit elevating your orgasm and drawing it out for as long as possible.

You desperately tugged at Obi-Wan to pull him away from your drenched pussy and back up your body when you finally started to fade, though aftershocks were still shooting through your body. Eagerly kissing him you trailed one hand down his body to grasp at his cock and starting a steady rhythm of pumping him. At his small groans and moans you felt yourself heating up again and so you pulled his body down on top of yours, his weight resting on his forearms next to your head.

As you continued to stroke him you let your legs part in order to press his throbbing cock to your swollen lips. His hips stuttered, a beautiful guttural groan flying out of his mouth, and as he slid up against you your lips parted, juices covering him. You both moaned at the feeling of his velvet length stroking back and forth over your exposed slit and he continued to softly rock his hips as you continued to soak him, your own hips bucking anytime his hard cock caught on your clit. Your eyes had been closed but they slid open as you whimpered desperately craving more, wanting to give him everything and you knew he would do the same in return for you.

Your hand which had been holding him within your parted lips fell back to gently push his hips so you could line up his tip with your entrance. Obi-Wan’s eyes met yours and he whispered, “My darling are you sure?”

"Yes, please Obi-Wan, I'm craving you. Please let me have you, all of you" You letting your answer slip out of your mouth as you trailed your other hand down your body and used your thumb to rub your clit.

Obi-Wan nodded, you could feel slick leak out of you at the idea of finally coming together like this, leaning down to kiss you fiercely as he slid his head into you softly. Groaning at the intrusion he waited for a moment or two, his breath coming out in hard pants as your walls gripped onto him tightly.

He could tell you were softly tensing up and so he allowed his hands to roam your body teasing you gently. As he whispered that he was going to push further in, nodding you let out a small whimper as he sheathed himself most of the way in you.

You felt a small twinge but as his hand came to rub at your clit and his mouth moved to nip at your sensitive spots on your neck your attention was drawn from that. You took a second to adjust to his size, walls fluttering around him, his cock stretched you but not in the painful way you thought it would, rather you felt full to the brim.

After a couple moments you cautiously asked him to move and gently Obi-Wan pulled back slightly before pushing back in, movements slow and minimal at first as you both adjusted to the feeling.

When you had grew used to the foreign sensation and it started bringing you more pleasure than his fingers ever could have you buried your face in his neck with a soft cry of ‘more, please Obi-Wan’.

He was more than happy to oblige hips pulling back, his cock sliding in to the hilt now as his hands pulled your thighs gently further apart. Moans were flowing from your lips now as your own hand groped at your breast while the other slid to play with your clit as you lost yourself in the feeling of him surrounding you. As his pace sped up further your eyes shut desperately anticipating your orgasm, yours was rapidly approaching as he slid in and out of your sopping cunt.

Obi-Wan's own orgasm was approaching and his hands flew to your waist to pull you into him as he thrust, hips slapping against you as you both desperately chased your release. Your legs wrapped around his back and praise spilled from his mouth - “Oh, stars, you feel incredible my love. You’re taking me so well, gripping me so tight. Oh darling, I adore you I can’t wait to feel you cum”

One truly desperate cry of his name flowing from your lips had him throwing his head back face gasping in pleasure at your gorgeous voice and his expression pushed you over the edge, knowing you were the one bringing him this much pleasure.

Calling out his name your hands flew to his shoulders gripping tightly and Obi pulled his head up to take in your orgasm.

Seeing your face as you came just for him was his undoing and he desperately pulled out, hand pumping himself rapidly as his release spilled over your lips and thighs, his orgasm coming faster than anticipated. You continued to whimper and keen out as his release dripped over your pussy causing your walls to clench at the feeling and Obi-Wan sat there, soft moans leaving him as his head was thrown back in pure bliss.

Both of you panted as you came down from your high and Obi-Wan looked down at you his softening cock weakly twitching at the sight of his cum dripping off of you. With a groan he reluctantly got up and stumbled to wet a cloth to clean you up, wanting to get you cleaned up and back to cuddling in your warmth as soon as possible. When he returned you sat up slightly and gave him a sweet smile that took his breath away.

He had to remind himself what he was doing as he gave you a brilliant smile in return and then he gently pressed the cloth to your spent pussy, wiping his cum off with soft strokes and when he was satisfied you were cleaned up he tossed the cloth on the ground.

You gawked at him calling his name out indignantly as he just chuckled and crawled back up the bed to sit next to you an innocent, “Whaat??” leaving his mouth as he pulled the covers up over the two of you, pulling you into his side.

You rested your head on his shoulder as he gently trailed his fingers up and down your side. It was still early, sun still struggling to rise, and so you sat in comfortable silence for a while having no obligations for the time being and when you felt yourself drifting off you lifted your head to look at Obi-Wan who had furrowed his brow in deep thought.

Tilting your head in concern you made a small noise in the back of your throat to get his attention, his eyes met yours and something flickered over his face as he came to a decision. Shifting nervously his other hand came to delicately clasp your hands, you made another small confused noise before pressing “Obi-Wan what is it?”

He took a deep breath before leveling his gaze and you realized what he was about to say. Grasping his hands tightly you stared at him for a second before speaking, “Obi-Wan, you know if you say this we’re breaking the code outright and there's no coming back from this.”

Your concerned words only caused a soul warming grin to cover Obi-Wan’s face as you reaffirmed why and what he wanted to tell you. As he breathed out your name softly your face eased into an adoring expression and when he sweetly said, “I don’t care, I have to tell you. I love you, with everything I am.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as your eyes got misty and you stroked the back of his hand before a wide smile broke out on your face, “I love you too, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I love you with my whole soul and you're not alone - you'll never be alone, I'll always be with you.”

The two of you shared a loving kiss, sweet and warm, as you snuggled back into each other. You both slid down back under the covers and Obi-Wan wrapped strong arms around you.

At some point Obi-Wan knew you would have to get back to your responsibilities but for right now, in the glow of the rising Naboo sun, nothing mattered but the two of you.

[magalidragon]

targaryen’s seven | a Jonerys drabble

A/N: I could not help myself and just threw down this Drabble. I  don’t want to post it on Ao3 just yet because is not a full one-shot nor is it going to be multi-chapter (in the near future, maybe one day I will come back to it) but thought you guys might like it.  Enjoy!

The wind bit at her exposed skin, cheeks pinking without any aide of blush or tint.  It whipped over her silver curls and braids, already pulled back taut from her face.  It would have chilled anyone’s bones, except hers.  Her bones were heated from the heavy thud of her heart against her breastbone, the rush of blood in her veins, and the fire raging inside her soul.  The fire which rose to sparkle in her lavender eyes, redden her plump and pursed lips, and thirsted for revenge.  

In the dark winter in the North, far beyond the everlasting lights and skyscrapers of King’s Landing, the craggy peaks of the Vale, and the marshy flats of the Riverlands, no one walking by on the quaint lantern-lit light posted street with its cozy restaurants, pubs, boutique hotels, and little shops devoted to preserving the heritage of the Realm’s largest, sparsest, and remotest kingdom.  

The woman standing against one of these lightposts, her hands in the pockets of her designer black trenchcoat, hardly paying attention to the bustle of people.  There were locals intermixed with tourists—it was the Dawn Festival soon—going from building to building, stopping to take photos in front of silly little cardboard cutouts of ice zombies and Northmen.

Only a few stopped in their tracks to glance at her, for she stood out among the darkness and the cold snow, her silver hair a moonlit beacon, her entire demeanor that of someone who should not be trifled with nor confronted.  One glance of her purple eyes and they were on their way, bewitched almost to forget she was even there to begin with.  

She lifted her left wrist up to peer at the heavy silver men’s wristwatch, ticking softly under the wail of the wind.  Daenerys Targaryen tsked under her breath.  “He’s late,” she murmured.  She supposed it was silly to think he would actually honor her summons.  He would not be coming then.

Well I suppose I will have to go looking for him.

Her heavy black combat boots crunched under the fresh snows, hands returning to her pockets, walking slowly down the sidewalk.  The last time she was here had not been pleasant.  The Northern History Museum had been far more difficult to crack than she’d originally planned.  She had barely made it out of there with the silver wolf circlet she’d broken in to steal.  Retrieve, she preferred, even if the authorities had different views on the matter.

The silver wolf circlet allegedly belonged to a Northern queen, who rebelled against the kingdoms and ultimately died of starvation when all her allies abandoned her. It was exceptionally expensive and the funds of which now had been siphoned into a series of orphanages the Northern government had been sorely neglecting.

Her walk took her from the local streets a bit farther off the beaten track, the lamps extinguished or nonexistent, the people fewer and fewer, until she was the only one on a darkened street.

Dany paused in front of a pub, glancing down at her phone.  A message from her hacker—Missandei—informed her his cell phone had been pinging from that location an hour ago.  She glanced up, smirked at the worn sign-- The Wildling -- hanging on one hinge.  It was not for charm, but because the owner no doubt didn’t care about it.  Perfect.

She entered the pub, which suddenly went quiet.  Everyone stared at her.  Dany reached up to pull at one of the buttons on her coat, her smile amused, gaze sweeping from one end to the other of the less than desirable establishment.  She was not a local, she should not be there, but she did not care, purposefully striding towards the ancient bar, where a gigantic man with thick red beard and wild eyebrows surveyed her with bright blue eyes.  

“Ale please,” she ordered, sweet.

The man chuckled.  “You’re not from around here.”

“Nope.”

“You lost?”

Dany smiled, taking another look over her shoulder at the clientele, all of whom were still staring at her. She met the man’s gaze again, shaking her head.  “Nope.”

They looked at each other, unblinking, for what seemed like several minutes, but was only a couple.  A boom of laughter finally broke their silent pissing contest, the man slapping his dustbin lid sized hand on the bar, pointing at her, grinning darkly.  “I like you.”  He reached under the bar for a pint.  “Attitude like that, first one’s on me.”  

“I was hoping you could pass something along for me to one of your regulars.”

“Can’t say anyone you know would be in my pub,” the man said.  He set her pint glass full of darkened ale.  He grinned again.  “But try me.”

Dany slipped her fingers into one of the inner pockets of her coat, removing a slim black box.  She set it down on the bar, pushing it with one red manicured finger towards him.  Another enigmatic smile did the trick. “This is for Jon Snow.”

The entire pub might as well have gone on mute.

The jovial bartender immediately hardened, those twinkling blue eyes now chips of ice.  He was gruff.  “Don’t know a Jon Snow.”

“I think you do Tormund Giantsbane.”  Dany climbed off her stool, took a long pull from the ale glass, and wiped the foam from her upper lip.  The gruffness of the bartender dropped like a mask at her sudden use of his full name.  She liked to stun them.  It was fun that way. She turned, calling over her shoulder.  “Put it on his tab.”

The heavy oak door swung closed behind her with a deafening thud.  Dany liked the taste of that ale, making a note she would have to return if she was ever in the mood for it again.  She tugged her phone out, now a message from her ghost, warning her that this was a bad idea and they should try some other way.  

Barristan had said the same thing.  So had Daario.  Grey and Gendry might have also agreed, if Missy and Arya hadn’t been as forceful as they had with their displeasure.  Sometimes it was bothersome to have members of a team fucking, but Dany accepted the two couples because they worked well together and did not usually let their personal issues bleed into the world.  

Plus they all had reason for this job.  Well, not Daario, but he would do anything she asked because he was in love with her.

They all tried to convince her to get someone else.  There were plenty who would kill to be a part of her team.  To join them in this endeavor.  No one else would do, she told them, calm and quiet.  

It had to be him.

She returned to her car, parked in a community lot near the main square, and paid the exorbitant parking fee, even if it probably would have been easier to just use one of Missandei’s contraptions to hack her way out of the 15 stags.  She drove off, humming along to a silly pop song playing from whatever radio station had been on when she picked up the car at the Winterfell International Airport.

Ah Winterfell, so many memories.  The castle loomed large over the city that bore its name.  It was a museum now, even if the Stark family still retained some ownership of it.  Somewhere on the other side in more modest accommodations a few of the Stark family still lived. 

The Starks weren’t as big as they once were.  They were desperate for cash.  All they had were their titles, such as they were.  Dany thought about Arya Stark, her ghost, who technically bore the honorific Lady, but if you thought of calling her that you would get a knife in the gut.  It was part of her reason for taking this job.  

They all had reasons and now she just needed the final player in the game.

In lieu of a hotel, as much as she would like someone to pull back her linens and prepare a fire for her when she turned in for the evening, she rented out a luxury cabin several miles away.  It afforded her privacy, stunning views, and a large sunken tub.  Dany liked a sunken tub.

She parked, walked up to the front door, and smiled to herself at the threshold.  So obvious. She slipped in the key and entered, turning to plug in the code for the alarm panel.  When she turned back, she slipped off her coat, and walked into the large stone paneled living room, with its great fireplace—already crackling—and mountain filled wall of windows.  

“Hello Jon.”

The chair before the fire turned, revealing its occupant, who sat rather bored, legs crossed and fingers tapped against his temple.  He looked the same as ever, she thought, if not better.  Dark raven curls, wild around his face, which had been chiseled from marble.  Dark beard dusting over his jaw and upper lip, his gray eyes black in the shadow of the fire.  All black ensemble, which she knew hid a body that was as chiseled as his face.  Smooth planes and sharp edges, he was a masterpiece.

And he was deadly.  

The gray eyes glinted, just a hint of red.  Could have been from the fire, or it could have been something else.  

Her smile peeled over her teeth.  “My white wolf,” she purred.

Jon Snow smiled in return, although it did not meet his eyes, rather cold, as cold as the storm that began outside, the faintest hints of howling wind sounding.  “Daenerys Targaryen,” he said, in his rumbling Northern burr.  He kept smiling, until he wasn’t.  

And then he was at her throat, his fingers digging into the slim column, tilting up her jaw, his breath mingling with hers, warm and raspy.  Her eyes threatened to roll back into her head and her body ignited, fire consuming her.  He barely touched his mouth to hers, barely breathing.  “I thought I said I would kill you the next time I saw you.”

Now it was her turn to smile.  She lifted her hand, his eyes rolling down to it.  The cold steel of her dragonhead knife was against his jugular.  Even if his thumb was pressing down on her carotid, threatening to cut off her oxygen, she knew he wouldn’t.  Just like he knew she wouldn’t kill him.  Draw blood maybe, but she could never kill him.  “Darling, I think you forgot, it was I who said that.”

“Hmm.”  He drew in her scent, nostrils flaring, and eyes going red again.  The wolf, she noted, her skin prickling, and her body straining towards him.  Not to break free, but to join him. There would be time for that later. His thumb dragged over her bottom lip and she darted her tongue out to touch it.  He groaned, his nose pushing to hers, laugh deep in his chest.  “You came looking for me.”

“I will always come looking for you.”

“I don’t want it.”  His dark brows arched, the feral wolf flickering over his features again, hiding his obvious desire for her.  She bucked her hips against him, reminding him.  He laughed.  “Peace offering, huh?”  He immediately let her go and flicked the box towards her.  He growled.  “You stole that from me.”

“And I’m giving it back.”  She opened the box, revealing the white wolf head pommel from the ancient Valyrian sword he kept in one of his many safehouses.  She sighed.  “I realized that it really belongs with you.”

“No, you realized no one would buy it.”

She shrugged, flicking the box towards him and he caught it one-handed, setting it down on a table behind him.  “Po-tay-toe, Po-tah-toh.”

“I’m not joining you again.”

Ire flared, her eyes darkening to indigo.  “I am no longer asking you nicely.”

“Funny was that what it was when you tried to kill me?”

Of course he would bring that up.  She waved her hand dismissively.  “It was an accident.”

Jon dragged the collar of his shirt down, pointing at a knife scar on his collarbone.  “That is not an accident!”

“Oh yeah, well you stole from me!”

Now it was his turn to shrug it off.  “That money needed to go to the Night’s Watch,” he mumbled, arms crossing over his chest.  

They squared off against each other.  This was not how she planned it to go, but nevertheless.  She narrowed her eyes on him, staring.  He stared back.  No one blinked.  Until they were at each other, grappling, tugging, and tearing at each other, mouths a frenzied clash of tongues and teeth.  She drew his tongue in between her lips to slide along hers, moaning into his mouth when his large hands slipped from her shoulders to cup the sides of her breasts, straining in their cashmere sweater cage.  She lifted herself against him, remembering every feel of him, every dent and ridge of muscle, every nervous quiver, and every bump and drag of scars.

He tore from her first, a hand tangled in her immaculate braids, fingers digging into the ridge of her skull, and another on her hip, holding her to him.  “The answer is still no,” he whispered.

Dany shook her head, whispering.  “You haven’t heard my proposition.”

“I’m out.”

“Even when I tell you the mark?”

He shook his head again, although she knew him.  She’d known him since they were teenagers, misfits and unwanted, trying to scrap by on their wits and wiles.  They had bled together, fought together, fucked and almost died together.  They’d gone to jail together.  She nibbled his lower lip again and he flinched, barely, but she felt it. He still wants to know. “No,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want it.”

She cocked her head, her fingers smoothing over his cheek, dropping to cover his heart with her palm.  Eyes steady, breath even, she smiled again.  “I need my second Jon.  I need my partner.”

They all wanted her to bring in someone else.  Even someone she might have worked with in the past, none of them matched to the trust she had with Jon Snow.  He was her equal, the one she could trust above all else, the one who knew her deepest and darkest fears and desires.  Jon Snow came from nothing like she had and built himself up.  He was the only one she would ever feel comfortable doing this job with.  

There was also the fact that she was still in love with him.

Trivial thing really, she lied to herself.

Whatever they said about him, she didn’t believe it.  He was out, he was done, he’d gone straight…all lies.  He was just like her.  They were wild, they could not be tamed, and he could never settle for a boring law-abiding life.  

The irony of Jon Snow was he was the most honorable criminal she had ever met.

“No.”

Now it was time for the final play.  Her other hand cupped his head and fingers twirled with his hair at the base of his neck.  “Even if I tell you that we’re going for the Targaryen crown and dragons?”

His dark eyes lifted to hers, his breath stilled.  He said nothing.  

Her tongue dabbed her upper lip, her pupils dilating wide, smile curving again.  “The crown and the eggs will all be in a single location, for the Conquering Day Celebration, and Tywin Lannister himself will be there, to give a speech, to commemorate the day.  Robert Baratheon, Cersei Lannister, and that little fucker Tyrion will all be in attendance.”  She brushed her nose over his, whispering.  “Can’t you feel it Jon?  That wolf inside your heart?  The one howling?  What does he want?”

She knew what it wanted, just like he did.  All she needed was for him to say it.  

Jon closed his eyes, shivering, and his arms tightened around her.  “Revenge,” he murmured.  He didn’t need to say it but draining the Lannisters of their stolen riches would also be a bonus.

“Exactly.”

He gazed down at her, lips dropping to hers again, and she knew it.  She knew before he even whispered the words to her, before he kissed her and before they decided to start talking terms.  

“When do we start?”

[juju-on-that-yeet]

There Are Worse Things I Could Do, Chapter 10/10

Summary: Now that Yancy is finally back home, it’s time for him to talk to Illinois about everything that happened between them. Warnings: None Characters: Yancy, Illinois

Read on AO3

Enjoy!

~

The first thing Yancy does after he comes back is get his tracker put in.

Actually, no, the first thing he does is sleep.

After crying and carrying on with the others for a while, he flops into his bed and sleeps for nearly twenty-four hours. He can’t help it; his bed’s never felt so comfortable, and he’s never been so tired. After eighteen days of sleeping on benches, it’s a welcome reprieve.

The second thing Yancy does is eat. He didn’t eat too terribly out on the streets, but every bite was stolen, every bite gave him guilt. It’s nice to finally eat something he doesn’t have to feel bad about – especially after sleeping for nearly a full day, which did make him pretty hungry.

So getting his tracker put in is the third thing he does, and it’s the least fun. Google is the one to do it, and he’s none too gentle about injecting the tracker into Yancy’s un-injured arm. Dark is also there to oversee it, which doesn’t make Yancy feel much better. Yancy doesn’t see the tracker for long; it’s small and blue and thin and that’s all he gets from it before it’s inside his arm.

“You may experience some lingering soreness for the next twenty to thirty minutes,” Google says, monotone, as though reciting an instruction manual. “If you attempt to remove or destroy it, we will be notified. It will not need to be replaced, unless your arm is severed from your body, in which case you will need a new tracker once your arm has regenerated.”

“Um, g-good to know,” Yancy mumbles, flexing his arm and rubbing the sore spot where the tracker now lies. He can’t sense the tracker under his skin, but if he squeezes his arm hard enough, he can just barely feel the tracker in there.

“I presume you recall,” Dark says, cracking his neck, “That punishment awaits you if you tamper with your tracker.”

“Y-Yes sir,” Yancy says quickly, shivering a little. He remembers what it was like to be in Dark’s void, even if for only a minute, and he doesn’t want to revisit it.

“Good.” Dark grins, then vanishes. Google rolls his eyes.

“You can go,” he says flippantly, gathering his materials and leaving to do…whatever it is the Googles do all day. Despite being friends with one, Yancy doesn’t quite know.

He’s always felt a bit weird here, in this huge building full of crazies and killers that isn’t a prison. It feels even more like a prison now that Yancy knows he’ll be tracked if he leaves. But there’s a bit of comfort to that. Prison suited him; he only ever left because of Magnum, and because of…

Lio.

The fourth thing Yancy does upon coming back is finally, finally talking to Lio about everything. At least, he will. That’s the plan, but Yancy can’t help but be nervous about it. Aside from Lio mouthing to him that he was glad to see him from across the room when Yancy came home, Yancy and Lio haven’t spoken at all since Yancy accidentally confessed. It feels like it happened ages ago – and true, it’s been over three weeks at this point. Over three weeks of avoiding Lio, yet Yancy is still unstoppably in love with him. Yancy’s heard before that it takes a month to break a habit. Maybe if he stuck it out for another week he’d finally fall out of love, but how could he? It seems inevitable that he’d still love Lio after everything.

All Yancy knows is that he doesn’t want to keep avoiding Lio forever. He misses him because he loves him, but he misses him as a friend, too. He misses their talking, their bantering, their teasing, their support of each other’s passions. If there’s a way they can go back to that, then Yancy will do whatever it takes to get there. Even if Lio doesn’t love him back, Yancy doesn’t want to lose his friendship.

So Yancy stands outside Lio’s door, having failed to find him elsewhere in the building, and waits for the courage to knock.

“C’mon, just do it.”

“I can’t.”

“Look, if you wait until you feel brave enough, you’re never gonna do it. So just do it.”

“Call me out, why don’t youse.”

Yancy continues to stand there, paralyzed with uncertainty. Lio had seemed happy to see him the other night, but that doesn’t mean this conversation will go well. Yancy’s afraid again, but he can’t run away this time. He has to face his fear.

In the end, though, he doesn’t have to make the decision at all. After several long minutes of standing in front of Lio’s door, it opens. Lio is the cause, and he pauses and goes a little wide-eyed when he sees Yancy.

“Oh, hey,” he says, voice cracking just a little. “What’s up?”

Somehow it comforts Yancy a little to know he’s not the only one who’s nervous.

“I just, y’know, wanted to talk to youse.” Yancy clasps his hands together, starts twiddling his fingers. “About…everything.”

“Yeah, we…yeah. Come in.”

Yancy does. Lio closes the door, and they sit on the floor like usual – or what used to be usual.

“How long were you out there?” Lio asks. “Did I miss your knock?”

“Nah, nah, I just…” Yancy turns a little pink. “I didn’t knock. I was tryin’ to, though.”

Lio can’t seem to help smiling a little.

“Were you trying to knock with your mind?”

“Oh, shaddup,” Yancy says, smiling back despite himself.

This is what he missed being apart from Lio. This is what he wants back.

“But really,” Yancy continues, smile falling as quick as it came, “We gotta talk about stuff. I…I guess I’ll start?” He takes a deep breath, clears his throat a little. “I shouldn’t have run away. I know that was stupid. I shoulda talked to youse before that, but I just…I was too angry and messed up about it. So I left, and I shoulda come back sooner, but I was…it felt too hard. If I hadn’t screwed up I’d still be out there.”

Lio nods. His face is drawn with concern.

“Yandere said you killed someone,” he says quietly, softly. “Is that true?”

Yancy looks away. He clenches his hands tight together.

“Yeah,” Yancy whispers. “Some guy with a knife tried to mug me, and I didn’t…I don’t know what happened. One second he’d sliced me and the next I was…I’d killed him. Choked him out just like my ma.” His voice shakes. “There was a girl who saw, called the cops. Part of me wanted to kill her, too.”

He dares not look at Lio. He doesn’t want to see the fear or disgust that must be on his face. He stares down at his own hands instead, at his own fingers twisted together with anxiety. He nearly jumps to see a third hand, much more tan than his own, come into his field of vision and grasp his un-injured arm.

“I’m sorry,” Lio murmurs, “That sounds…scary.”

Yancy’s eyes fill with tears. Of course Lio wouldn’t hate him for this, he already knew Yancy was a killer when they became friends. Lio may not endorse it, but he never let it stop him from caring for Yancy, he never let it scare him away or disgust him. Of course perfect pretty Lio still cares about Yancy after his third murder.

“It was my own fault,” Yancy mumbles, “If I hadn’t run away like a moron it never woulda happened.”

“You were being attacked, it wasn’t your fault,” Lio says, “Besides…” He pulls his arm away. “You wouldn’t have run away if I hadn’t handled your confession so badly.”

It’s finally out in the open, the thing at the bottom of the whole situation. Yancy looks up, back at Lio, and this time Lio is the one looking down at his hands.

“C’mon, Lio, that ain’t your fault,” Yancy says. He tries for a chuckle, but it comes out like a strained huff. “I didn’t mean to tell youse in the first place, and it’s not…it’s not your fault that you don’t like me back.”

You don’t like me back. That hurt more to say out loud than Yancy would like to admit, but it’s nothing he didn’t already know.

“I still should’ve talked to you about it,” Lio insists, “I shouldn’t have avoided you. I told myself that I’d only make you more upset, and that you probably didn’t want to hear from me after all that, but I knew that was stupid.” He shakes his head. “I know I waited way too long to call you. I should’ve talked to you before that.”

Yancy remembers getting that call, remembers throwing his phone in the pond rather than answering.

“Throwing my phone away was a little silly,” Yancy admits, a little embarrassed. Lio laughs quietly.

“A little,” he agrees, “But…I’m the one who made you mad enough to do it.”

“I guess we were both pretty stupid,” Yancy says, “But I…” He sighs, shaky. “I just…I want us to still be friends. I know we can’t have it exactly like before, but…I don’t like avoiding you, Nois. I like being able to hang out with you. I don’t want shit to be all…weird. I hope it ain’t too much to ask.”

Lio finally looks up, and Yancy is surprised to see that Lio’s eyes are wet.

“Nois–”

“I’ve had a lot of partners,” Lio says, cutting Yancy off, but not unkindly. His voice trembles. “Lots of people that I worked with, plenty that I fell in love with.”

“I know, Lio. You’ve told me about that.”

“Yeah, and I mean – you know about what happened to all of them, too.” Lio sighs. “They all died. All of them. Usually in front of me, and I…I guess I just decided to stop.”

“Stop…?”

“Loving.” Lio’s gaze is piercing, watery and sad as it is. “It felt too hard, and I felt like…like I was cursed. I still think I might be. I haven’t tested it out. I just told myself I was done with partners, done with getting hurt, that I can’t love anyone else.” Lio closes his eyes. “But…”

“But what?” Yancy is thoroughly confused now.

“But it doesn’t matter if I can.” Lio opens his eyes again, and there’s something warm there. “Because I do. I never noticed, never wanted to notice, never had the time to think about it until…until…”

“Lio, until what?” Dread circles Yancy’s chest, like he knows what’s coming.

“Until you ran away.” A tear snakes down Lio’s cheek. “Until you weren’t there, and I realized how much I missed you, and how much I needed you. I’m an idiot, Yancy, I’m a huge moron and a coward and I’ve hurt you so badly, because I just – I didn’t want to admit that–”

“Stop,” Yancy gasps. Emotion, heavy and thick and burning fills him as keenly as Lio’s words have. “Don’t fucking tell me – don’t you fucking say–”

“Yance, I’m sorry,” Lio whispers, all the strength gone from his voice. “I’m in love with you, and I was too scared to admit it, even to myself.”

“No fucking way!!” Yancy shouts. He stands, bolting to his feet. He can feel his face getting red. “There’s no fucking way I ran away from home because I was all fucking upset that you don’t like me the way I like you, when the whole time you fucking did and just decided not to tell me!!”

“I didn’t realize it right away,” Lio says, still sitting, staring at the floor. “Not until you’d left already, and I started to realize how much I missed you.” A sob escapes him, and it morphs into an almost-laugh. “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve been crying these past couple weeks. I’m a mess, Yancy. I’ve really screwed up, but the truth is that I love you back.”

“Don’t do this to me,” Yancy growls, even as his vision blurs with tears. Lio looks so small now, sitting on the floor, swathed in regret. “You don’t get do-overs, Lio. You don’t get to hurt me and change your mind and put me in the palm of your hand.”

“But you are in the palm of his hand! You still love him! This is the best possible outcome!”

Yancy turns away from Lio. He doesn’t know if he wants to leave. Anger is boiling in him, so it might be for the best if he left now. But they can’t leave it on this note, this is so much worse than before. This is so much worse than unrequited love.

But something – someone – Lio slams into Yancy from behind, his arms lock around Yancy’s waist and chest, his head burrows into the small of Yancy’s back.

“Hey–!” Yancy yells, startled.

“Don’t leave,” Lio begs, “Please don’t leave, please don’t hate me, I–” He sobs again, and again, and slides to the ground like his legs can’t hold him up anymore.

“Lio…” Yancy murmurs, astonished, turning to look at him.

Lio kneels, bowed, weeping harder than Yancy’s ever seen him cry before. Not that Yancy’s seen him cry much before: He’s seen Lio shed a few tears after some particularly awful flashbacks, but nothing even close to this. And hadn’t Lio said that he’d been crying a lot since Yancy left? Has Lio truly been hurting just as bad as Yancy, has Lio truly been just as lovestruck, just as longing, just as afraid of this conversation?

“I don’t want to hurt you worse,” Lio whimpers, “I’m cursed to h-hurt the people I love, I know that. S-So if you don’t want to give me a chance th-then you have every right to, and you p-probably shouldn’t, just…” He manages to meet Yancy’s eyes. Tears slide down his cheeks. His face is twisted up with pain. “Please don’t hate me. E-Even if we can’t be friends anymore, p-please don’t hate me.”

Yancy’s heart burns deep in his chest, and the burn rises up in his throat, knotting itself there, nearly stopping his breath. Because his answer is immediate, comes to mind in an instant: He can’t hate Lio. He convinced himself he couldn’t love Lio, same as Lio did for him, but he can’t hate Lio either. He could never hate perfect, beautiful Lio. Lio hurt the man he loves, and he hurt himself, and Yancy did the same. And Yancy knows that this has to stop. They have to stop hurting each other.

“I don’t hate you,” Yancy chokes out. He kneels too, sliding to the floor to look Lio in the eyes. “I don’t – I feel like I shouldn’t just forgive you after all this, but you…you hurt yourself, too. We gotta cut this out. We gotta quit being stupid about this.”

Lio laughs, quiet and rough.

“E-Easier said than done, I guess,” he says. He’s still crying, and Yancy realizes he hates watching Lio cry.

“Quit crying,” he mumbles, reaching out and wiping Lio’s tears away before he can stop himself.

Lio sighs, shaky, leaning into Yancy’s hands. Yancy doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s cupping Lio’s face in his hands – and Lio has gently wrapped his hands around Yancy’s wrist, loose enough for Yancy to pull away, but tight enough to show that he wants Yancy to stay. Yancy is suddenly very aware of Lio’s skin under his fingers, of the slope of Lio’s face under his hands, of Lio’s cheekbones under his thumbs, of Lio’s warm tears under the pads of his fingers. Lio’s eyes are still wet, still leaking tears, but bright and shining with more than just water.

“Fuck, he really does love me.”

“What do we do now?” Lio asks, voice weak.

“I mean…” Yancy looks for the right words. “What do you want to do?”

Lio’s lips quirk into a barely-there smile.

“Honestly, right this second?” he says, laughing softly, “Kiss you.”

Yancy’s pretty sure his heart stops.

“But that’s probably not what you–”

Lio is cut off as Yancy’s lips cover his.

Okay, now Yancy’s heart stops.

He can’t believe he’s doing this. He can’t believe this is happening. But he is, and it is, and Lio – Lio’s hands are moving from Yancy’s wrists down his arms to his back to pull him closer, and Lio’s mouth is so soft, and Yancy hasn’t kissed anyone in so long, and he knows Lio hasn’t either, he can taste the longing on his lips, taste salt from Lio’s tears, feel his own heart restarting and fluttering the longer they stay connected, and thank god they’re already on the floor because Yancy’s legs are jelly, and Yancy has to break away to breathe – gasp – sob – but he’s not ready to stop, they’re barely apart for a moment before Yancy’s mouth is on Lio’s again, and Lio lets him, parts his lips for something deeper, and Yancy has to break away again, and again, trying so hard to keep kissing through all the emotion, he’s starting to cry now, he can feel sobs coming up between them –

“Hey, easy,” Lio murmurs, pulling away so Yancy can breathe, “You’re gonna hurt yourself, Yancy.”

“Lio,” Yancy gasps, moving forward to kiss him again like it’s all he knows how to do.

But Lio shifts a hand into Yancy’s hair, redirects his path, gently pushes Yancy’s head into his shoulder. Yancy whines, a pathetic noise he’d be embarrassed to have made if he wasn’t so out of his mind from love.

“Shh,” Lio whispers, keeping his hand in Yancy’s hair and rubbing his back.

That’s all it takes for the dam to burst, and suddenly Yancy is sobbing into Lio’s shoulder, clinging helplessly to his back. It hurts, there’s something painful in Yancy’s chest as he sobs, something twisting up his gut, something making him tremble. But there’s something pleasant about it too, cathartic and addicting. Every tear he shed or held back ever since he admitted his love for Lio spills out, burning hot but leaving relief in their wake, a release of tension that Yancy’s been holding in himself for weeks. Yancy by now is accustomed to the pain love can bring, but he never knew love could hurt so good.

When Yancy’s tears subside, he stays curled up in Lio’s arms. He never wants to leave them.

“Are we…” Lio starts to ask, then stops. It takes him a long moment to speak again. “What…what are we now?”

“Can we…” Yancy’s beleaguered heart starts racing. “Can we…be…together?”

“Like…boyfriends?” Lio asks cautiously.

“Maybe?” Yancy says, even as his heartbeat kicks up. “After all this mess, maybe…we shouldn’t…shouldn’t call it anything yet.” He lifts his head out of Lio’s shoulder to look him in the eye, to see his serious but hopeful gaze. “But I want…this. I wanna keep doing this. But youse right, we don’t…I don’t wanna hurt myself. And I don’t want youse hurting yourself either.”

“Yeah,” Lio says slowly, “Yeah, I want…I want more of this. We can go slow, jailbird. I’m still…” He sighs. “I’m still a little worried about everything, but I…I think I need you.”

Yancy’s heart curls around itself, sweet and painful.

“I need you, too,” he whispers, “I…” A pause as he looks for anything more to say. “I’m glad to be home.”

“Yeah,” Lio chuckles, “I’m glad you’re home, too.”

For a long moment, neither person says anything. Yancy is the one to break the silence.

“Hey, weren’t you about to go somewhere when we started talking?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lio admits, grinning sheepishly. “I was gonna get something to eat – not that I’m very hungry anymore. But…I’ll go do that, if you come with me.”

“What, is it my job to make sure you eat, now?” Yancy asks cheekily.

Lio laughs, before standing and holding a hand to Yancy.

“It can if you want it to be,” he says, grinning.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Yancy chuckles, taking Lio’s hand – oh, his hand is calloused and warm – and letting Lio help him up. “Hey, literally, ‘cause we’re about to eat.”

“I guess my wordplay’s rubbing off on you,” Lio says with a smirk, leading the way to the door.

“Hey, who’s the songwriter here, huh?” Yancy bumps his shoulder as they walk. “I think I’m the one with good wordplay here.”

The pair keep bickering as they leave Lio’s room and walk down the hall, and it feels like old times. That is, until Lio grabs Yancy’s hand as they walk, and Yancy holds on in return, cheeks turning pink even as he continues the conversation. Yancy could mistake it for a dream, but Lio’s hand feels too real. Yancy could cry again at how perfect it is, at how much he’s wanted this, how he thought it was out of his reach when it was this close all along, how nice Lio’s hand feels in his, how well their hands fit together. But he’s far too happy to cry, and it’s a nice change from being too sad to smile.

“I wouldn’t wanna repeat everything, but…” Yancy thinks to himself as he and Lio walk together, “I did end up here, so…I guess there are worse things I could’ve done.”

[novamm66]

Red Sky in the Morning - Chapter 17 – Safe Harbour

Find the Red Sky Master Page Here.

And if you prefer AO3 that is Here.

—-

Kiaya gulped as she stood at the base of the stairs, waiting with Cassandra. She could hear the ebb and flow of the sounds of many people gathered in the lower courtyard.

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

The other woman snorted. “I think it might be. Just remember, slow and steady, don’t look at the people directly if it makes you uncomfortable, and don’t drop the sword.”

The last startled a laugh out of Kiaya, and her smile came a little bit easier. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, waiting for their cue, before Kiaya turned to Cassandra.

“I am really sorry about before. We should have told you. I should have told you before we left for Crestwood or when we got back. It was a mistake, I know. And I don’t want you to think I was siding with Varric.” Kiaya said, referring to the fight she had broken up earlier that day. “I just didn’t want you to kill him. I think you would have regretted it. Eventually.”

“I know,” Cassandra sighed. “I just wish…” her face was wistful for a moment before hardening, “It doesn’t matter. It is done.”

Kiaya couldn’t resist hugging her. “Just try not to hate him forever. I really need you both.” Kiaya said.

Cass chuckled. “I promise not to kill him, at least not right away.”

Kiaya laughed, “That works.” The two women pulled apart as they both saw Leliana motion to them from the landing. Kiaya felt her stomach heave as her nerves reasserted themselves.

“Tell me you have a bucket stashed somewhere close.”

Cassandra looked at her with concern. “Don’t be sick over the wall.”

“I’m kidding.” Kiaya managed a weak smile as Cassandra started leading the way up the stairs. Kiaya following a few steps behind. “Mostly.”

—-

“Kiaya?” Evelyn’s voice echoed up the stairs to Kiaya’s room.

“I’m here, Evie,” Kiaya called from where she sat, scrubbing at a spot of the rug.

Evelyn started speaking just as she reached the top of the stairs. “We need to… Why are you doing that?”

Kiaya grinned over her shoulder at her sister, but before she could answer, Cole beat her to it.

“Trying to fit the mould of what they need me to be. Nothing feels real.” Cole said, running his fingers down Shi’s back. He was sitting on the couch with the cat in his lap, their identical expressions of curiosity and innocence making Kiaya laugh.

“Not what I would have said, but not wrong. Shi was sick on the rug, he’s my cat, I’m cleaning it up.” Kiaya rinsed out the brush in the bucket next to her before picking up a rag and resuming her scrubbing.

“Nothing is more real than that,” Evelyn laughed, crossing the room and started to shuffle through the papers on the desk.

Kiaya climbed to her feet, picked up the bucket, and headed to the balcony to dump it. “Was there something you needed?” She asked as she came back in.

“Alone would be- Maker’s Breath!” Evelyn was staring at the empty couch. Both Cole and the cat were gone.

“You get used to that.” Kiaya smiled fondly at the vacant space. “You may commence your scolding.” Kiaya said as she put the cleaning gear away.

“What makes you think I am going to scold you?” Evelyn was trying to look stern but Kiaya could see the smile fighting to get through.

“You have that, Kiaya-is-being-an-idiot tone of voice.” Kiaya flopped down on the couch.

“Well, you are.” Evelyn crossed the room and sat down beside Kiaya. “You want to be coy and aloof about yourself, fine. But it’s dangerous and stupid. Why haven’t you told anyone about the extent of your injuries?” Evelyn grabbed Kiaya’s hand, worry clear on her face. “You haven’t been doing the therapy that would help you. Why are you hurting yourself?”

“Feel better?” Kiaya asked when Evelyn stopped.

“Not until I get answers.” Evelyn frowned at her.

Kiaya sighed, “I woke up in chains, in a cell, with no idea how I got there or why, and your name was the only one they had for me. The only reason I wasn’t executed on the spot was this fucking thing.” Kiaya dug her fingertips into the palm of her left hand as she held it out. “I was, I am, living on borrowed time. After everything that has happened,” Kiaya shuddered, “The Inquisition needed someone better. They needed someone who is not me.”

“That’s shit and you know it,” Evelyn stated. Kiaya looked at her in surprise. Evelyn rarely swore. “They need someone human, who thinks of others before they think of themselves, and for that you are perfect.” Evelyn’s face softened as she wrapped her arms around Kiaya’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t isolate yourself. It leads to bad places, remember? You need people, and there is no shame in that. Your friends here have fought beside you, bled with you. Why can’t you be honest with them?”

“The truth hasn’t always served me well in the past, and I’m just…”

“Scared.” Evelyn finished for her.

“Yes, I am scared,” Kiaya groaned. “I couldn’t bear seeing pity on their faces. Or worse.”

“This is not the same as the Circle, and no one is going to treat you like that again as long as I draw breath. You cannot survive this alone. You need to trust people. I think you should start with that gorgeous Commander of yours.” Evelyn suggested.

“He’s not my Commander,” Kiaya replied, rolling her eyes at her sister as her face warmed.

“The way he looks at you all gooey-eyed, he is yours. You have been in his office every night for the last two weeks. Just tell him already.” Evelyn poked Kiaya in the side.

“I am there getting help with writing reports. You know that, Evelyn. ‘My mother abandoned me like a stray dog and my father tried to kill me like one’ tends to be a bit difficult to work into Inquisition business, and it tends to dampen any pleasant conversation.”

“You are being an idiot. There, now I do feel better,” Evelyn said as she stood and crossed the room to Kiaya’s wardrobe while Kiaya laughed.

Evelyn began putting away Kiaya’s laundry as she continued. “Lyra will be here shortly with food and then I am teaching, her, Cassandra, Solas, and Dorian the exercises you need, so whether you are here or out there running around, you will be doing them.”

“Why not Sera too? She will get the most joy out of folding me into knots and making me squirm,” Kiaya said dryly.

“Good idea.” Evelyn laughed and Kiaya groaned.

“After that, you are going to stop being silly and tell Commander Cullen how you feel. You are leaving in two days and you won’t get another chance for ages.”

Kiaya watched her sister pulling out clothes. Tears pricked at her eyes. Evelyn always took care of her; she took care of everyone. Her tone brought back memories of a ten-year-old scolding her for tracking dirt on the library rug. “I am so happy you are here, Evie. I am so sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“Stop that,” Evelyn said, pausing with hands on her hips to glare at Kiaya. “I started all this when I asked you to go to the Conclave for me and besides, the Trevelyan name has never done you any good before. I am going to make damn sure it does now.” Her voice and stance softened. “You are not alone in this. Now, get changed into something loose. We don’t have a lot of time.”

—-

Kiaya couldn’t concentrate. The letters on the parchment were dancing in front of her eyes and she couldn’t pin them down properly.

It had been a long afternoon. Dorian had brought wine, and her friend’s jokes and teasing had made the afternoon fun, but Evelyn had been thorough in showing everyone what needed to be done and it had left Kiaya in a lot of pain. Which was really her own fault. Kiaya’s months of neglect had resulted in very stiff joints, and the muscles in her legs and back were unbalanced. She had barely been able to walk by the time she arrived at Cullen’s office.

Also, she kept changing her mind about confessing her feelings to Cullen or not. Every time she made her decision another reason, for or against, would come to her and she was plunged back into doubt again.

“Kiaya, are you alright?”

Kiaya jumped. Cullen was looking at her with a half-smile and a tenderness in his eyes that always made her heart beat faster.

“I’m fine.” Kiaya croaked, her throat feeling dry.

“You just seem a bit distracted.” Cullen’s eyes flicked down to the parchment in front of her. Kiaya followed suit and discovered that she had dripped ink all over the page. It was beyond saving.

“Crap,” Kiaya groaned, looking up sheepishly. “I guess I am having trouble focusing.”

“Then we have done enough for this evening.” Cullen stretched his shoulders, rubbing his neck.

“This from the man who never stops working before midnight,” Kiaya said, glancing at the pearly light of evening outside the window. “I will pretend I believe you.” She looked back to the document in front of her and sighed, “I guess this one is kindling.” Crumpling it up into a ball, she tossed it into the wood box next to the fire.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Cullen said, “If you are able.” Concern appeared on his face; he had commented on her noticeable limp when she had arrived.

Kiaya smiled and nodded. “Moving might actually be better right now. It might help with the stiffness.”

“Evelyn was quite upset this afternoon. I take it she was hard on you?” Cullen asked as he put away what he was working on.

“I got an ear full, that’s for sure. As for how sore I am, that’s really my own fault. If I had been doing what I should have I wouldn’t hurt so damn much now.” Kiaya couldn’t stop the small groan as she stood.

Cullen held the door open for her. “Well, I’m not in a position to judge, so you will not hear a scolding from me.”

—-

The walk was Cullen’s idea but he was having trouble thinking of anything to say. Kiaya had fallen silent again. They had stopped along the back wall of the keep, and Kiaya was leaning against it, staring at the horizon with unfocused eyes.

The light played up the rich red and gold of her hair. Waves and curls had escaped the knot she had bound it in and they drifted around her face on the gentle breeze. Her eyes shone with soft grey light and she was absolutely... 

“Beautiful.”

Kiaya turned to face him, the grey of her eyes shifting to blue as she moved.

“I, the sunset and view.” Cullen stammered. “It’s beautiful.”

Kiaya nodded as she looked back to the horizon. She seemed about to say something, but instead she shook her head and sighed instead.

“What is bothering you Kiaya? Maybe I could help.” Instinctively, Cullen reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek.

Her eyes closed and she tilted her head into his fingers. Before Cullen could even register his surprise Kiaya spoke.

“I can’t decide whether my caring so much for you is a good or bad idea.”

Cullen froze, his hand still gently touching her face. His heart suddenly wanted to fly. Then Kiaya seemed to realize what she had said and she stiffened, her face the picture of surprise before she covered it with her hands.

—-

Kiaya was mortified. She had been so wrapped up in her own head, the moment he had touched her everything else had disappeared. When he asked, she answered without a thought, distracted by the warmth of his hand on her face and the care and concern in his voice. In all the scenarios she had imagined, both good and bad, none of them started with her blurting her feelings out like a ninny.

Kiaya felt Cullen’s hands circle her wrists. “Kiaya, look at me.” Cullen’s voice was gentle but firm. “Please.”

It took her a moment before she let him pull her hands away from her face and she opened her eyes. He had moved closer, and she had to look up to see his face. When their eyes met, her racing heart stopped dead in its tracks.

Cullen’s golden eyes were on fire. “Do you mean it? You care for me?” He asked.

Kiaya nodded, and he kissed her.

Kiaya’s eyes closed and her hands fisted into his shirt as she rose up on her toes to meet him. He tasted like honey and rainwater, mixed with the scent of leather and metal that always clung to him. It had Kiaya intoxicated instantly.

Their kiss lasted forever and it ended far too soon. Kiaya’s heels hit the ground with a thump, their foreheads touching as they caught their breath.

“I take it that you think it’s a good idea?” Kiaya smiled.

“A very good idea.” The two melted together again, kissing softly as sunset gold surrounded them. It was perfect.

—-

Cullen was more content then he had thought possible. Kiaya’s confession that her feelings matched his own had given him the courage to act, and he had done what he had been dreaming of longer then he would care to admit.

They had stayed on the battlements until the stars came out, but when Cullen felt Kiaya shiver he insisted they return to his office. Once they were safely shut away, they curled up on the couch with idle conversation between stolen kisses, gradually settling into a comfortable silence. Kiaya was curled into his side, her head resting on his chest. The gentle movement of her fingers stroking his was the only indication she was awake.

Cullen tenderly kissed her hair, inhaling the delicate scent of her, and she hummed quietly.

“Kiaya, how did you get hurt?” Cullen softly asked the question foremost in his mind.

Cullen felt Kiaya tense beneath his arm, her fingers stilling before they resumed their slow pattern. He was relieved that she didn’t pull away; in fact, she curled more tightly into his side.

“I was about fourteen, fifteen when my Grams told me how they found me. She gave me the Ostwick Chantry emblem with ‘Kiaya’ scratched on the back, and they agreed to my request to go there. The chantry had the record of my birth with my approximate age and the names of my parents. It listed my father as Lord Trevelyan. I decided I wanted to know more, but Papa was dead set against it. We had an awful row and I, as an almost adult, thought I knew better. I packed up and left.”

Kiaya paused. Cullen could tell this wasn’t easy for her to talk about. Her sentences were clipped, and she was speaking very quickly. He tightened his arm around her shoulders, waiting for her to continue.

“I travelled to the Trevelyan estate outside of Ostwick only to discover the family wasn’t there. So, I talked my way into a job in their kitchen, which didn’t go well because I can’t cook, and waited for their return. By the time they did, I had heard enough of the household gossip to convince me that I did not want to tell the Lord who I was. I was simply biding my time until the Raven came back to Ostwick and I could run home. Then I met Evelyn.”

Kiaya’s voice warmed as she spoke of her sister. “She was smart for a ten-year-old, and she knew we were blood the moment she laid eyes on me. She was so lonely after her mother died. Her father and brother were, are, nasty pieces of shit. She was thrilled to have a sister, and we agreed to keep my presence to ourselves. I was kitchen staff, and no one looked at me twice, so it wasn’t hard. I was there when Evelyn’s magic presented, and I was able to help her control and hide it, and she was teaching me to read and write. It was fun, like a game, sneaking around to spend time together at night.”

Cullen felt a shudder go through her, but before he could speak Kiaya continued.

“Until the night he caught us. There was a party and he was drunk, and I guess he wanted to show off his collection of books he never read. He caught us practicing magic. He was angry that I had ‘turned’ his daughter into a mage. Evelyn defended me and told him everything, which only threw him into a rage. He hit her and I attacked him, and Evelyn lost control.”

Kiaya sighed. “The last thing I remember is casting a barrier that barely protected all of us from the explosion and I was thrown out a window. Whether that was the cause of my injury or the beating Lord Trevelyan laid on me after he found me unconscious on the ground, I don’t know. Ultimately, I was lucky that Malcolm was attending the party with his family, who were neighbours of the Trevelyans. He pulled Lord Trevelyan off me, then, since both Evelyn and I were discovered as mages, he brought us to the Circle. Lydia was the head healer, and she saved my life. But there was too much damage, and it took me six years and some desperate measures to walk normally again.”

The crackle and snap of the fire filled the room. Cullen’s mind was a storm of thoughts and feelings as he processed everything she had said. No wonder she struggled to trust anyone. He was angry on her behalf, but there was nothing to be done about anything now.

Kiaya shifted and sat up, her eyes filled with worry as she scanned his face. “Was that too much? Should I have gone with the short version?” Her tone was light but forced, the crease between her brows betraying her concern.

Cullen reached out to stroke the side of her face. “Not at all. I’m touched that you told me, but out of curiosity, what is the short version?”

“Bad shit happened, and I got hurt,” Kiaya said, her brow smoothing and the sparkle of laughter appearing in her eyes.

Cullen laughed, “Well, that is certainly shorter.”

Kiaya grinned as she curled back against him with a sigh of contentment. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Cullen asked kissing the top of her head again.

“For listening. For not feeling sorry for me or thinking less of me, or at least not outwardly.”

Cullen shifted and tilted her face up to his. “You have only increased my admiration for you. You are strong and amazing, and I will always listen to anything you wish to tell me.”

Kiaya kissed him, and for a time, words became unnecessary.

—-

I am furiously blushing right now. This one was a hard one for me to write. It’s my first kiss scene so I hope you enjoyed it.

(Thank you so much @kagetsukai for the advice I hope I embraced the awkward well.)

Comments, Likes and Reblogs would make me giddy.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 8

CJ stalked the cold, gloomy alleyways that lined the street to the docks with a brazen whistle and jaunty step. A proverbial sore thumb compared to the adults and small Vks who scurried about with shuffling steps using the shadows as cover from the watchful eyes of the Coven.

“As if they would care about the doings of cowards and sidekicks.” CJ thought to herself. She had only been back in the Isle for a few days, possibly weeks, time was never a sure thing for CJ, and she had pieced together a little of what had happened when she was gone.

Some big name villains had gotten their magic back and were ruling the Isle with an iron fist, no one was allowed to do anything without their permission, children and sidekicks were punching bags for others, some sort of new hierarchy, etc.

CJ didn’t particularly care. She wasn’t going to stay here for long anyway. She was meant to live on the high seas and after seeing all the booty that she could plunder from places like Camelot Heights and Charmington, she had a growing desire to return to Auradon. A land filled with gold and magic and all sorts of princess to scare and seduce unlike this island of delusional madpeople.

And she was going to plunder and steal on the Seven Seas on the Jolly Roger. Her birthright.

Just as the golden compass that she took from its’ hidden, crocodile-ridden vault on Neverland that used to belong to the once glorious Captain James Hook, that Jolly Roger was another piece of her great legacy. It would aid her in her acts of treachery and it would be a sign to all her future enemies that her scourge was coming. iT would strike fear into their hearts even before they saw a glimpse of her.

She wanted to be the most vile, bloodiest pirate that ever lived. More dangerous than her father, more wanted than Calico Jack, people would say Blackbeard was the male CJ Hook. She was dangerous in her own right despite what these idiots on the Isle thought. She was always third. Behind Harriet even though Harriet hardly did anything but keep up the Jolly Roger and occasionally entered a bar brawl, and behind Harry who was practically Uma’s whipping boy.

Voluntarily Uma’s whipping boy and first mate. It was disgusting.

When she was young she had envied and idolized her brother for his fierceness and the hook he used to slash people’s throats for daring to not follow his orders. But ever since he fell for Uma and pledged his life to serve her, she lost her respect for him. Why be a first mate when you could be a leader and take the best share of booty for yourself.

It was a universal rule not to fall for anyone on the Isle. It made you dependent and weak. Yet Harry was clearly hook over his head devoted to Uma and that seemed to make him stronger. Harry fought like an untamed animal with Uma by his side whenever someone treaded on their turf or insulted their gang. People feared him more now than ever, not daring to speak a bad word about Uma or him. They said he was insane. They said he killed for fun, a true sadist.

She hijacked her way to Auradon, she stole a whole roomful of treasure, she’s been living the good life on the seas without a tie to anyone, a leader unto herself. And she was still second-place to Harry, a pirate who was no leader, just a first mate.

It was just like that when they were kids. Her father treated Harriet more or less with respect or left her alone since she took care of things when he was off drinking until he could see and defeat his hallucinations of Peter Pan. He more or less ignored Harry seeing too much of himself in the boy, seeing his failure in the future. Her, she was his favorite, she knew that. Sure, he didn’t like it when she talked to him, he wasn’t a fan of kids talking or kids in general, but he would treat her mildly better like teaching her the proper way to stab someone. But it was clear that he had no hopes for her to grow into her pirate legacy or any of her capabilities. 

Apparently, he thought her siblings had more raw skill and she had too much of his obsessiveness.

Fine, he was right she was obsessed. Obsessed with treasure, with being a pirate, with being great. She was going to get her own treasure. Steal it from her own father. Like a true treacherous pirate.

He would hate her.

Good, she hated him.

Hook was a greedy man. Wouldn’t be such a fearsome pirate otherwise. He refused to give up any of his possessions to his children. They hadn’t “earned” it. Or as he usually yelled at them, “You’re supposed to be fucking pirates! Get your own treasure!” That declaration led to the bitterest resentment in her piled near the times he forgot her existence in favor of talking to her siblings, doubting her, agreeing with the rest of the Isle. Placing her fourth behind the rest of the family.

She would prove them all wrong, and make them pay.

Her angry thoughts echoed with her pounding footsteps as she kicked the hollow wooden wall behind Madame Medusa’s casino that had formerly been the diamond plunder’s basement, now Lady Caine’s lair.

CJ would have liked to make a dramatic entrance, much like the one she did at the Auradonians silly Neon Lights Ball  but she sadly didn’t not see any vines or ropes to swing from so she settled for bounding down the stairs and brandishing a sword.

Brandishing her sword in a dark, empty room apparently, the only light coming from a small window.

The basement was much larger than she thought basements were supposed to be until she realized she was in a small entrance room and she had to go through another door. The door led through a stone hallways, it’s only light coming from the cracks of the wooden ceiling which CJ figured must be the floor of the casino. Some stones had been chipped and the place reeked with mildew and dust but it was also decorated to intimidate.

There were blood splatters and spare limb joints wedged in corners of the walls, rusty swords bent with decay that had been stuck to the wall and unable to be removed. Posters buxom female pirates and males with broad chests holding knives in their mouths were crudely tacked up alongside “Wanted” signs of Lady Caine’s gang.

CJ recognized some of the pirates from the stories Harriet used to tell. The heartless Blackbeard, the infamous Davy Jones, and CJ’s favorites, Anne Bonny and Mary Read, Grace O’Malley, Ching Shih..

“Hmmm I like her too.” A female voice purred, sidling up to her side. It took most of CJ’s composure not to jump at the sudden presence of whom she instinctively knew to be Lady Caine and forced herself to smooth her face into a wicked grin as she faced the self-proclaimed “Queen of Thieves.” 

The older pirate was a bit shorter than her, reaching to her nose but that didn’t lessen her intimidating presence. In fact it just made CJ even more on guard knowing that it was likely Lady Caine would find a sneaky advantage like hitting her in the crotch or some other unprecedented move using the dagger at her belt. 

The rest of her body was less intimidating since toll of the Isle showed. She was skinnier than CJ so it made her corset look like it was hanging limply from her body rather than pushing up ‘the goods.’ Her hair was limp too, and straggly from lack of clean water and constant sea mist.There was an uneven spread of muscles on her arms tempered with some new and healed-over scars, one that even went through her skull and roses tattoo on her right shoulder. Her left leg was clearly injured since she favored to lean on her right and CJ could see the spread of blood seeping through her tent-canvas pants. The one piece of jewelry, a skull necklace was cracked and rusting over making it look more like a demented clown. 

What really brought the scare factor was Lady Caine’s face. Her mouth was set into an unnerving casual smirk. The kind that implied she was the type of person to arrange for someone ‘to swim with the fishes’ simply because she needed something to do to fill her time. Yet her smile didn’t reach to her eyes. No, her eyes were too guarded, menacing, immediately telling CJ that if she tried to double cross her, than Lady Caine would return the favor. Ten-fold. 

“Yes, she has quite the treasure chest.” CJ commented. 

“Heh, I meant I wouldn’t mind taking over her nine hundred squadron fleet to raise a little hell,” Lady Caine raised an eyebrow, her brown and shoddily red-dyed bangs brushed against CJ’s cheek as the older women got into her personal space. “But I can share your admiration for her figure too. Would she be any competition for that voodoo sorceress you’ve been with?”

CJ forced herself to breath normally through her mouth despite her sudden wildly thumping heart. Unexpected and unwelcome memories filled her mind, pushing the faded poster of Ching Shih away. 

Freddie’s dark lips, stained with purple berries that brought out the highlights of her kelp green eyes. Those same lips who created enticing and persuasive arguments with her ‘velvety’ voice coaxing new sounds out of her as they glided across her body. 

Her nimble hands easily able to pickpocket and grope with none the wiser than she, but CJ always knew because she knew that girl. Her tricks of trade, her facial tics, what sent her over the edge in the most pleasurable sense of the world.

That was until CJ had been totally blindsided when Freddie decided to become independent. She knew Freddie had a stubborn streak, which Freddie would retort that she wasn’t stubborn, she was practical, not carrying the obsessive Hook madness. But for Freddie to abruptly tear away from her to have her own dreams was something CJ never thought would happen. Freddie had always seemed to content in helping her with her own schemes, she said she found keeping CJ under control to be entertaining which would be followed by a night of dark magic and ecstasy.

“Of course not.” CJ barked out a hearty laugh and tried to move the conversation to safer, less complicated, emotional areas as well as keep her mind off the stunning spawn of Facilier.

“The girl is my sidekick. My pet. My Auradon pet since she insists on becoming a famous singing star for those goody goodies. She’s not at all like Ching Shih. What I would give for a nine hundred boat squadron which brings me to the important thing. How am I getting the Jolly Roger?”

“We’re getting the Jolly Roger.” Lady Caine corrected leading her toward a bigger room which CJ could tell had used to be used for storage due to the familiar musty smell of aged alcohol. The large boxes had been shifted and carved to form makeshift chairs, weapons were hung or stabbed haphazardly around the place and in the center was a wooden throne which Lady Caine lazily slouched upon, looking at CJ up and down with amusement.

CJ pulled out her sword again, glaring at Caine threw slitted eyes. “Not the deal. The Jolly Rogers mine.”

“Relax. I don’t want that ship, I have my own. I just have my own plans for your father once we steal it in front of bloodshot eyes.” Lady Caine smirked malevolently, “He still drinks, doesn’t he?”

CJ faltered a little when she realized that wasn’t a rhetorical question, “Uh maybe. I don’t associate with him. I’ve been Auradon.”

“I’ve heard about that. Now that is something people should talk about more. You got into Auradon on your own. No pitying help from Prince Furrball. No ‘turning good,’ turning their backs on us so we could rot in hell while their mushy goodhearted brains sleep on pillows. You lived up to your wickedness, CJ.” Lady Caine cocked her head, looking oddly at CJ. Her eyes glinted with a strange happiness and her mouth curved in a genuine smile like when Captain Hook envisioned himself killing that dratted green boy. So proud of his imaginary accomplishment.

Proud. That was what Lady Caine looked like. Not proud of herself but proud for CJ.

CJ’s staggering realization that someone was actually proud of her was tempered by the words sinking in, “No one talks about me and my accomplishments? I have stolen loot from Merlin!”

“Exactly. They still speak of your brother and his violence, but not your greatness. It’s ridiculous. Descended from two great pirates..well I’m a great pirate, your dad-” Lady Caine waved her hand as if she couldn’t quite describe the numerous fatal flaws of Captain Hook in words.

“Yeah…” CJ wasn’t sure how to continue, another odd feeling, she had always remained sure and in control most of her life, “How did-How are you my mother? Dad despises you. He has dreamed of you and Pan being crushed under his stern.”

“And I despise him as well. It’s complicated. I wasn’t in the right mind when I did it. I was drunk, we were fighting, his Hook slipped and instead of scratching me it kind of went the hot and sexy route..huh? That actually wasn’t very complicated now that I say it out loud.” Lady Caine shrugged, wiping a hand over eye and smudging her heavy eyeliner. It sort of reminded her of Harry. 

Truthfully as she looked longer at Lady Caine she found it difficult to see the resemblance between her and her supposed mother. Lady Caine’s brown hair matched more with Harriet and the eye-liner, totally a trademark of her brother. Maybe..just maybe if Lady Caine ate more and filled out, CJ would be able to see if they have the same slender figure, and if she wiped away the magenta lipstick, maybe they had the same lips.... 

“And you’re not Harriet’s or Harry’s-” “No.” Lady Caine vehemently denied, “I would remember if I slept with that son of a bitch more than once, especially if I was pregnant afterwards. Just once is enough for me. What else do you think the C in your name means?”

CJ hadn’t meant to look so shocked but she lost her control, her eyes bugged out and her jaw dropped, “The C is for Caine?!”

Lady Caine burst out laughing, getting off her chair and back to CJ’s side, “No again. Your dad named you and he would never choose something that referenced me. You should have seen the look on your face though. Ha!”

Once CJ’s heart resumed its normal rhythm, she managed a weak laugh, “Okay great. But seriously, the Jolly Roger. What’s the plan? I want that boat.”

Lady Caine looked like she was about to laugh again, but she refrained seeing the seriousness in CJ’s eyes. “There’s no official plan...yet. But you will be in charge of it since you know Hook’s turf better than I do.” A part of CJ’s gut pinged at Caine’s words. It felt wrong somehow. Too easy that the “Queen of Thieves,” known for her hard will and controlling way would just hand over the plan to CJ, even if she was her child. Yet CJ swelled with ambitious excitement. She was finally getting the respect her reputation deserved. She could totally plan and execute a way to take the Jolly Roger.

“What do you want with all this?” CJ questioned, giving in a little to her gut feeling and eyeing Lady Caine warily.

“Like I said, I have my own score to settle with Hook. And a small favor. I want to use the Jolly Roger to storm Corona.” “You see, CJ, long before you were born. Before Auradon or the Isle or any of this existed. I lived in Corona. My father was a petty thief that King Fredric jailed because he couldn’t stand any sort of criminal. Murderers in cells with domestic abusers and first time offenders. It was Corona’s own version of the Isle. The first one. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Beast took the idea from him.

My father died in that prison since he couldn’t compete with the big guns. I grew up on the streets which was for the best I suppose ‘cause look at me now.  

But that self-righteous King Fredric has the balls to send me with common criminals and louses all over again. Off with his head along all the rest of those do-good bastards.”

“Off with their heads?” CJ laughed, giving the moment some levity, “You sound like the Queen of Hearts.”

Lady Caine glared at her, visions of anger and blood quite evident on her face, “Tie them to the rack, firing squad, crucifixion. Whatever you want. The point is those Auradonians will suffer, and they will not live.” 

———————————————————————————————————

Jordan inhaled deeply before knocking on Ben’s office door.

This was it, today was the day, no turning back.

After getting those cliches out of her head, Jordan paused to make sure that the rumbling of her stomach was just hunger from being too nervous to eat dinner and not impending throw up out of nervousness.

Yet before Jordan could knock on the door, Ben flung it wide open. She was starting to wonder if Ben was some door opening psychic for the past five times she visited this week to go over Operation: Defeat the Coven (official more badass title still in progress), he always opened the door before she knocked. Either she was a very loud presence or Ben was always waiting for someone to bother him.

She had a feeling it was the latter since he was King of Auradon and all, which seemed sad. She knew she would go crazy if she had people constantly knocking on her lamp all the time asking to fix some crisis or other.

Well, people used to do that to her lamp, but after sending those people off in a sandstorm, almost everyone learned to leave her alone. Just how she liked it.

"Hi, Jordan! Are you ready to beat some baddies?" Ben enthused, sounding unusually chirpy and breathless.

"Baddies? Really? No wonder you got caught so quickly on the Isle." Jordan shook her head with amusement.

"Yep, that's me." Ben said, pushing her back so he could close the door behind him, smiling way too brightly and nervously swishing his bangs out of his face as if that would make him look more casual.

Yeah, he was hiding a girl, or he was watching porn. She had seen Aziz act with this sort of bad nonchalantless plenty of times whenever she popped by his room unannounced. And since Ben was way too innocent to even know of the dark side of the internet and he did possess a girlfriend, she could bet he and Mal were having some alone time.

Ben leaned firmly against the door in a move that would prevent anyone from being able to open the door without getting through him, "Do you need any last minute supplies?"

As he said this, Jordan finally spotted the tell-tale bite mark on his neck that confirmed her suspicions.

Jordan was tempted to make a comment about how it looked like a certain purple dragon had marked him as part of her hoard, but refrained. Auradonians were still on edge about Vks even though they had been around for a year, and even more were up in arms about Ben promoting Mal to be his future queen. 

If anyone had gotten wind that Mal was in Ben's room, alone, giving him love bites and who knows what else when he was supposed to be doing kingly duties, the scrutiny would be worse than ever on Ben. She might as well let them have their private moment.

Even though that private moment just showed how relaxed Ben was about Operation Defeat the Coven while she still wanted to throw up.

And that's exactly why she needed to talk to Ben. It was clear he had too much faith in her and her abilities and so he needed to be given a reality check of how they could all die and the world that they know it would be taken over by every villain on the Isle imaginable.

"Ben, I promise I'm not backing out. I mean, it is really too late for me to back out anyway so I can't. But I don't feel prepared for this at all. I'm a genie. I'm a sidekick. I don't really make tough decisions, I just entertain people with my magic powers, not fight them. The Coven have a millennium of experience over me and in dark magic which a completely different sort of power, and-"

"I understand how you feel." Ben put a comforting hand on her shoulder while her mouth dropped rather unattractively.

"You do?"

"Hey, I turned king when I was 16. I read a lot about politics and policy making, but it is completely different when I was thrown into ruling. It was like everything I studied and read meant nothing at all when it came to dealing with people and trying to listen to all their problems and think of plausible solutions on a deadline. I can't say I know what I'm doing most of the time."

Well that was very reassuring knowledge.

"But one major thing I have learned when it comes to leadership is that we all develop our own style. You can't prepare for it, you can't learn it. It just comes to you as you learn and grow. You just have to take your time."

"But I CAN'T take my time!" Jordan retorted, "This mission has a short deadline with snap decisions. I can't grow from this."

"It's adventure. People always grow and develop during an adventure like all our parents in their stories." Ben answered back with irritating calmness.

Jordan felt her eye twitch. She should have known that knocking some reality into the eternal optimist wouldn't work.

At least the eternal optimist had eyes so he could see her clear annoyance and distress because Ben said something else, "Besides Jordan, you may be the leader of the mission, but you have your friends to help you. That's why I have a Council. I don't know everything, but I surround myself with people who do and who will help guide me to making the right choices. You're not alone in this."

Jordan exhaled, surprised by how that little nugget of advice actually eased some of her nerves. She did feel pretty confident about her team. Aziz and Jay were excellent with parkour and other athletics so they could be counted on in the case of an attack, and Calix had the magical skills to go up against the sorcerers with her. Plus she had adventured with Aziz and Calix enough times to insticively know when to act in sync. It was too bad Jay was left in the cold in that respect, but he knew his way around the Isle so he had an advantage over all of them.

Additionally, Ben, Carlos Jane and Evie volunteered to alternate in keeping contact with them via magically-enhanced ear chip so they could research useful information in the library if needed.

She trusted them to know what they were doing, and she supposed with so much back-up if she did make a mistake then they could resolve it quickly before any real damage ensued.

"Thanks, Ben. I think I'm ready to go." Jordan said, brushing his hand off her shoulder.

"Right. I'll meet you there. I should go get Mal." Ben said, fixing his collar and rushed into his room.

Jordan sing-songed to the door before leaving, "Ben, I'm pretty sure Mal's room is on the other side of the castle."

She walked quickly to the front of Auradon Prep by the Beast statue where Evie, Aziz, Jay and Calix were already waiting and the moon was high above them all.

Since Ben had arranged the excuse to FG that she, Jay and Aziz were taking a field trip to Agrabah for a week to research illusions in connection with desert mirages so the two boys were dressed in loose pants and shirts that concealed the thick leather body armor underneath as well as the shafrah and scimitar strapped to their legs.

She had copied that look in a flowing black sundress with a two straps filled to the teeth with daggers criss-crossing her chest.

Truthfully, she never used a dagger before, but like with leadership, she hoped she would catch on. How hard could it be to stab someone?

Calix, on the other hand, was looking far too casual with a one shouldered toga that showed off most of his chest and no way to hide weapons anywhere on his body. Apparently he ignored her lecture that you can’t flirt someone to death in mortal combat. 

"Good luck." Evie hugged Jay once she saw Jordan arrive. "Avoid Harry and the Gastons. And any of your exes."

"I don't have exes. We didn't date on the Isle, remember." Jay said, mock punching Evie on the shoulder, "I just have enemies that I slept with and never talked to again."

Ben and Mal joined the group before anyone could comment on that topic, not that Jordan knew exactly what to make of that piece of information, and they started their official goodbyes.

"We're only an ear chip away." Evie said handing each of them a small metallic chip that Carlos had made to place in their ear drum, "All you have to do is press and it turns on and off, and since Mal spelled it. It is guaranteed to work even when you close the barrier."

"Alright. Now where are we going first? Maleficent's castle? Ursula's fish and chips?” Jay clapped his hands together, clenching his fists for the undoubtedly upcoming fights.

"The jungle." Aziz, Calix and Jordan said in unison.

What?" Jay, and Mal looked utterly confused by the answer.

"Do you not check the group messages?" Jordan snorted derisively, "Anyway, we are going to the jungle first to fix some of the holes in the barrier. Since Evie said the jungle is unoccupied by humans, we won't be noticed and attacked by the Vks immediately. Calix and I will fix the holes so the Coven won't be able to have an escape route. Then we'll work our way inland to the Coven's laier and do battle."

"Oh, okay. But you’re wrong though on the jungle being unoccupied. Some people live in the jungle. Mainly hunters who wanted some fresh meat rather than the leftovers you give us." Jay corrected.

All the Aks tensed at that and Ben looked shamefaced to the floor.

Jay hadn't said the comment in a bitter or accusatory way, but matter of factly. Which made it sound worse. It was simply a fact of the Isle that if one got tired of rotten and disgusted food from the overprivilged that you had to face the dangerous wild jungle and kill for raw meat.

"You’ll fight those VKs off we meet them." Jordan instructed after an awkward silence. Then nodded to the others. "We're going now."

Aziz took the cue and rubbed her lamp that was snugly strapped to his hip. She hated the fact that she had to bring it to the Isle, but she had no choice. While she could do magic to in transporting herself places, when it came to performing magic on others it required a wish.

"I wish to transport to the jungle of the Isle."

Shimmery pink smoke enveloped them, wind rushing past their ears and moving their bodies even though it felt like their feet were still firmly on the ground. Once the smoke cleared, all they could see was shades of green and brown.

The green came from the leafy canopy and thickets of thorns that blocked the view of the sea while the brown was the dead grass that crumpled underfoot, the dead trees that fallen over to their left in a small pile and the holes of dirt.

Jay crouched by one of the holes, studying the edges. Standing up he informed them a hyena probably created it.

"Are hyenas nocturnal?" Calix eyed the hole nervously, looking around as if to find some sort of protective cave even though there was nothing but trees.

"Yes, but I wouldn't worry. Usually the leapords take care of them." Jay said ignoring Calix’s more distressed look and motioned for them to follow him into the trees. "Since we are near the coast, the cliffs should be close by here."

And so their journey began. 

[talvin-muircastle]

Story: Our Little Secret

Yet another from years past when I did a short story a day every day during November. This one came along on November 15, 2014.  It takes some classic tropes and twists them around for fun.

Also, nobody writes about female Dwarves, so I did.

A hurled axe thunked into the target hanging by the bar, and Asmalda ManCleaver followed it through the door. "Beer, damn your eyes!"

The bartender, a slender human woman of indeterminate years, arched an eyebrow at the stout, dark-haired dwarven lass. "Damn-Your-Eyes has the night off. But we do have a new beer in stock."

Asmalda hauled herself up onto a stool before the bar, eyeing the human suspiciously. "Better than that rotten orc-piss you gave me last time? Nevermind...it would have to be. It couldn't be worse. Very well, Layla, I'll have a mug of it, and if I like it, you won't have to clean it off the ceiling!"

"Very mannerly of you...of you," murmured Layla as she carefully drew a pint of the new brew. Asmalda ignored the jibe and licked her lips in anticipation. The foamy mug was set before her, but Layla held tight to it, the other hand held out for payment: Asmalda was a regular, and since they knew her and saw her often, she paid up front. Grudgingly a few coppers were dropped into her hand, and Layla released it. "That will do for the first round, but I warn you: this stuff comes dear, and it will be a silver for the next tankard, and for each tankard after."

"A SILVER, YOU THIEVING HU--"

"It can be a gold. Drink up."

Asmalda muttered about finding another watering hole (impossible, she was banned from every other tavern within a league), and took a sip from the mug. She set it down slowly, closing her eyes. For the first time in anyone's memory, she smiled (at least, without killing someone first). "Mother of Stone, now THAT is a BEER! Where did you get it?"

Layla was busily wiping down a mug with a bar-towel, "Can't tell you. Trade secret."

Asmalda got up (taking the beer with her), retrieved her axe from the target and casually smashed one of the barstools to splinters with it. Then she took another pull on her beer and remarked, "Got all night to spend here doing that. Then I start on bartenders."

Layla grimaced (though inwardly she was giggling madly), and said, "Fine! But you pay for damages first...AND buy another beer. At a silver a mug."

CLUNK! The heavy metal tankard smacked onto the bartop, now empty. Clink! A handful of silver coins joined it. Asmalda smiled expansively, "I won't haggle. Another round...and your supplier."

Layla scooped up the coins and got the dwarf another pint. "You're not going to like the answer, and if you smash the place after you hear it, you'll never get another pint of this. I swear it."

"Fine, fine, my sacred word on it. Now, where?" Asmalda took a deep breath of the aroma of the second pint, then poured half the mug down her throat.

"I got it from an Elf."

*cough* *choke* *splutter* "WHAT?!?"

Layla was hauling the keg up onto the bar, "Look! See the mark, there? You should know it!"

Asmalda blinked, peered, blinked again, tossed back the rest of the tankard to fortify herself, and then stared at the mark burned into the wood of the cask. No, no, it couldn't be, not HIM!

"ALTHINAS OF GREYMARK?" she cried, tears on her cheeks.

"I bought it from him. He came in here with it only yesterday. I normally only buy wines and liqueurs from the elves, but this...well, he let me have the first pint free. I got four kegs off him, and he promised more...eventually." Layla shrugged and carefully set the half-full keg back down. "You want a refill?" Numbly, Asmalda stuck her mug out to be replenished. That an elf could craft a brew that no dwarf had known the like of...the gods could not be so cruel. And THAT elf, worst of all!

She drank in unaccustomed silence, and she did not even quibble when Layla suggested that now would be a good time to pay for past damages. She settled her tab and left, and the entire tavern breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind her.

The Watch-Elves of Greymark were not in the habit of granting passage to a Dwarf, but they had not counted on Asmalda. After discussing the terms of her entrance to the forest, it was agreed that she could seek Althinas within. None of the guards were slain during negotiations, and even the most pessimistic of the Healers felt that the worst-handled of them would be up and moving around within three moons. So it was that Asmalda, called the ManCleaver, climbed the steps to the treehouse of one Althinas, a SureBow of Greymark.

"Asmalda! An unexpected pleasure. What brings you to my home?" Althinas was tall (for an elf) and handsome (even for an elf) and very much aware of it (typical, for an elf). Asmalda hated orcs, despised goblins, liked humans (she had her epithet because she enjoyed fighting them for sport--her sport), and had a special, aching sore spot in her heart for elves and their superior ways. Especially this elf, who enjoyed finding ways to irritate her above and beyond the usual.

"Beer," she rasped.

Althinas smiled and patted her on the head, "What do we sayyyy?"

"Puh. Puh." She retched. "Please."

"There, now that wasn't so hard! Here, I have just tapped a keg. Not my best, really, and I do apologize, but it is all I have to offer until I visit my brewery again." He handed her a tall, hand-blown glass of amber liquid. She shuddered at the blasphemy, treating good beer as if it were one of the pointy-ear's gutless wines, but she didn't refuse it. She sipped carefully, and stood unaware for a moment, lost in the divine taste of it.

"I suppose," purred Althinas, "you would like some more. Supplies are limited, of course--the ingredients are very rare, and it takes time to make it properly."

Asmalda carefully licked the last of it off her upper lip. "Yes...da--...dear Althinas. I have come to ask if I might order a keg of my own. Or, perhaps, two."

The elf hrrrmed, and the dwarf's soul shivered with the sound. He was toying with her, damn him, and she could only beg! Finally, he spoke. "I believe...yes, I believe three kegs can be spared from my next shipment, if you can pay the price for them, of course. In gold or jewels--sapphires would be especially nice--payable up front. But, there is an...obstacle."

"Obstacle? I smash obstacles!"

"Of course you do! But, you see, delivery is an issue. Our caravans have had some difficulties passing through the mountains of late--something about taxes due to your people, some border disputes, silly things like that. Getting someone to deliver your beer...well, if you could prevail upon your cousin to see reason in these matters, it would make things just so much easier!" He lifted a crystal pitcher and poured more beer in Asmalda's glass.

She stared at it for a long minute. Finally she said, "I have some influence with my cousin, yes. These...obstacles...will be removed. I swear it. But: HOW? How can Elves have learned to make better beer than Dwarves?"

The elf laughed, "Patience is the first ingredient, and Elves have that in plenty. The rest...that is my little secret. Go tear down obstacles, and your kegs will arrive within the moon.

A few days later, two friends sat on the porch sipping beer and watching the children at play. The halfling smiled up at his companion, "And how is the forest, good Althinas?"

"As green and beautiful as when last you visited, Kirigar Hopsman! And your village?"

A shrug and a smile, and Kiri gestured at his kinsfolk, safe and content in their hidden valley. "We are simple folk, friend Althinas, with few needs we cannot fulfill ourselves--though the iron you have brought will be welcomed by our smiths. Trade has improved with the Dwarves, then?"

"Improved indeed! Oh, that reminds me: when last we met, I asked if I might purchase a few more kegs of your excellent beer. Can you spare three?"

Kiri waved a hand toward the brewery across the way. "I wouldn't sell you less than half a dozen, and I'll give you a break on the price! As I said, that iron is welcomed. Just, remember, don't tell anyone where you got it? We'd have all sorts of rough and noisy folk in here if word got out."

"Oh, never fear on that score, Kiri," and Althinas smiled down into his mug, "it will remain our little secret."

[Of female dwarves, I can count the tales I have read on the fingers of one foot. Hence, Asmalda. And I knew that for today's story I wanted to write a story about Beer.

After all, it's the 15th of November, and that means I have reached the Halfway Pint!

(Runs, runs away fast)]

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Homeward Bound: Chapter 8

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Henderson!Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Chapter Summary: Going from Hargrove to Harrington can give a girl whiplash, or at least it should.

Words: 3,213

Warnings: Swearing, slight smut referenced oops, death mention

Permanent Tag: @hotstuffhargrove @denimjacketkisses @hargrovesgoldilocks @casaharrington @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @hipsmcgee

Series Tag: @moonstruckhargrove @kurt-nightcrawler @baebee35 @thoughstofaredhead @supernatural-pants @bby-becca @fear-the-reaper115

You awoke to the sun burning your eyes. Your neck was sore and locked up, your back aching. As you sat up, it took you a minute to remember where you were. This wasn’t your bed, nor was it your room, but your things were everywhere.

You were at Billy’s. And you’d slept with him.

And you hated yourself for it. You shouldn’t have done it, he loved you for Christ’s sake, and you used him.

And the worst part was it wasn’t even good. It was terrible, god awful, embarrassingly bad. You were certain that your memory of him being a god in bed was just the memory of an inexperienced teenager, because this was not good by any means. You’d never felt more ignored by the person on top of your in your life-you were a complete afterthought in the whole event. You swore you’d never been further from an orgasm in your entire life. That would’ve been shitty but if it hadn’t lasted forever; that was the one thing your memory had correct, he lasted long. Too bad that’s all he had going for him.

You crept out of bed; Billy was still snoring next to your place in bed, and slowly gathered your things off the floor. You made sure to not miss a piece of yourself, pulling back on your skirt and blouse, your bra was still around your waist when you awoke. You pulled on your underwear and tiptoed out of his bedroom.

Your shoes and purse were still by the door and you grabbed them, slipping out the front door before he could even stir.

You knew well enough that you looked awful-signs of sex were all over you. You were more than glad that the hickeys weren’t on your neck, only your chest and collarbones. Your body was desperately sore, though it was only because you’d tried and failed to share a twin bed.

As you made your way out of the apartment, you wondered how you were going to spin this into a good lie. Your mother was going to kill you, god that felt so immature to you. You weren’t supposed to be out with boys, unless the boy was Dustin, and you certainly weren’t supposed to be spending the night with them. And you’d been gone all night, how the hell were you supposed to cover for yourself. Steve had to have told your mother where you were going, he always had to have the moral high ground over you.

The honk of a car horn startled you out of your thoughts, though you chose not to turn around to see who it was. You didn’t want nor need to see whoever thought it was a good idea to honk to get a lady’s attention.

“Henderson!” the driver cried and you let out a small sigh and a tired laugh, turning to smile at the driver.

Steve Harrington was behind you and his timing was excellent.

“You need a ride?” he asked, slowing the car as he got closer to you. You nodded, pulling open the door and hopping in quickly. Steve chuckled, watching you straighten out and slump down, defeated.

“Have fun last night?” he asked with a smirk.

You groaned “No…well yeah, and then no. Ugh, it was not a good choice.” You admitted glumly. “And now I’m gonna get grounded, god I feel like I’m sixteen or something…”

“Relax, your mom’s not gonna do shit to you.” Steve replied easily. You scowled at him, rolling your eyes.

“Have you met my mother?” you asked sarcastically.

“Yes, and I know lying to her solves most problems, which I already did. As far as she knows, you were at Jenny Stein’s. And since she lives in the same complex as your Mr. Hargrove, I think it’ll work out fine.” Steve said with a shrug.

“You lied to my mom for me?” you asked, wide eyed.

“Yeah, yeah I did.” He replied.

“Thank you…” you said. You had no idea what else, it shocked you. He wasn’t supposed to be protecting you, that wasn’t his role anymore. But he was, and while it should’ve annoyed you, it warmed your heart.

“Don’t worry about it, you hungry?” he said “Cause I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah I can eat.” You said, ignore the way your stomach growled at the very mention of food. Steve drove off towards what was once a crime scene, the diner formerly owned by Benny Hammond, the first outside victim anyone had ever heard of.

The place lived in a strange place in your mind; filled with both happiness and second hand grief. It lived there because you didn’t know Benny, you never would, but you spent hours in the place he died. Benny’s had been bought by a third party chain and soon became a fifties themed diner-complete with waitresses on roller skates. It had lost its down-home sheen and became an outside force. People protested the change but nothing could be done and suddenly it was someplace without feeling; a cold, sterile environment wrapped in pastels and kitsch. It felt fake and yet real, you spent nearly every afternoon there, planning schemes but also drinking shakes and relaxing, planning school dances or weekend trips. You went on dates there, saw hearts break and explode with love. You both loved and hated that diner.

And sitting there now, in your old booth from years past, you felt both at home and in a strange land. You’d been on your first date with Steve in that same booth, sharing a shake and wondering how your lives had gotten to this point. Now, you sat as strangers, sipping coffee, unsure of your places in each other’s worlds. Silence was the wall in between you. You intended to remove the first brick; you’d built the wall after all.

“He said he loved me.” You said simply, swallowing a mouthful of warm coffee, slightly too sweet for your liking.

“He did?” Steve asked, clearing his throat. He was obviously holding back a laugh, trying to be polite to you, but it wasn’t working; his face fully gave him away.

“He did.” You replied, chuckling softly.

“How did you respond?” Steve asked, leaning closer to you, elbows on the table, dangerously close to knocking the salt over

“I nearly jumped out the window!” you cried, earning a boisterous laugh from Steve, who fell back against the white vinyl booth. The whole thing was as silly as it felt, which was reassuring. But it was also nice to laugh about it-when it happened, you wanted to die, but now you were okay. You didn’t have to love him, and you sure as hell didn’t, but it was good to know that the whole thing was as stupid sounding as it felt.

“Jesus Christ and you still slept with him?” he asked, dumbfounded, shaking his head with a wide smile.

“Apparently! I guess I pitied him or something…” you sighed, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity.

“Was it…sorry, no I shouldn’t ask that.” He replied, stumbling over the question he gave up on. Your roller-inclined waitress, Katherine, placed your plates in front of you, refilling the coffee cups and skating off before you could even thank her.

“No, it’s cool.” You shrugged “It was awful. Absolutely terrible, it was like sleeping with a virgin except it lasted for like two and a half hours.”

“Wait seriously?” he asked, dropping his fork. This was a new side of Billy Steve never got to see-the side where he wasn’t the king. Even long after high school, he still ruled over their peers. Sure, now he ran Miller’s Bar like he owned the place and made the young parents of Hawkins feel bad for starting their families early. But he was still admired, still wanted and lusted after. Steve hadn’t had a date in months but Billy was out every weekend from what he heard. On major drinking holidays, he’d been called to take down a couple of Billy’s altercations but nothing really ever became of them-nobody pressed charges and every generally forgot, leaving him with the paperwork.

“Really!” you cried, giggling “I swear, the guy I lost my virginity to was better, at least it was shorter.”

“Was I? I mean…never mind.” Steve started, immediately giving up on the sentence again. He was blushing now, his eyes downturned to his eggs, suddenly small in his seat.

“You were better, don’t worry.” You said easily, shrugging softly as you took a bite of the giant pile of pancakes. Steve perked up just a little, a small smile spreading across his face. He looked more confident, at ease with himself again. You were glad to be of a little help to his self-esteem, even if you weren’t necessarily ready to be having these conversations again.

“Well good…not that I asked, but you know…good to know.” He said, his voice smoother. He was trying to play it cool now, finding his groove again, although he seemed to be stumbling just a bit. You found it oddly endearing, like an elementary schooler trying to imitate their cool older brother instead of an adult.

“Oh totally…totally completely, you’d never ask me that…” you replied, shaking your head as a small smile slipped onto your lips. It was hard not to laugh; he looked so serious, you could almost take him seriously if you didn’t know him. As he puffed out his chest, doing a silent imitation of Billy, you lost it. He just looked so silly; a false attempt at masculinity and suaveness, like a marionette instead of a real boy.

“Good and, ya know girl…I still love ya…” he added, trying his best to mock the Californian’s accent, slightly marred by Indiana’s tone.

You snorted loudly, coffee nearly coming out of your nose, making you choke just for a second as you shook your head, holding up your palm in the universal sign of ‘stop, wait I got one’.

“No no it’s like this.” You puffed your chest, widening your stance to make yourself as big as possible. You jutted out your jaw and pulled your best open mouth smirk, eyeing him like a piece of meat, which immediately made Steve cower away, watching you almost mystified. You ran your tongue over your upper teeth and lip, nodding at him. “You know I just…I love you, pretty girl…” you crooned, your voice not quite low enough to reach his tone and not quite skilled enough to imitate his accent, turning the words into a strange mix of choices that broke Steve’s resolve immediately.

“What was that…” he cried, his voice hoarse and breathless. You merely grinning, shrugging easily. “How do you move like him and sound nothing like him at the same time?” he guffawed.

“I’m not good at accents!” you said with a laugh, only making Steve laugh harder. The whole scene felt homey, like a warm blankets on a cold winter’s night. It was one of those moments you wished you could sink into like a warm bath, but time was physical and you had to move on, taking a sip of coffee and watching Steve come down from his giggle fit.

You finished breakfast in relative silence, although it was comfortable one. The kind you had with your father before he got his divorce and ran off with his mistress, back when you were young and naïve of the ways the world can ruin a person. It was strange to find yourself comparing Steve to your father, especially because you hated your father.

You hated him for abandoning you and Dustin. You hated him for not paying child support. You hated him for marrying Marnie and forcing you to play bridesmaid while Dustin was none the wiser. You hated him for moving on with his life while your mother struggled to find her footing again. You hated him for taking away the music in your life and forcing you to find it again on your own.

But Steve…well he wasn’t your father. Not by a long shot. Your mother swore that once he had a sense of humour and a heart, but you never really got to see it. But this breakfast with him, you felt as though you slipped back into your childhood in Chicago.

Your feet dangled off the floor as you sat on the edge of your big wooden kitchen chair, trying to keep your freshly cleaned and absolute favourite pink shirt, the one with the big crocheted butterfly on the front, clear of cereal bites and spilled milk as you took too big bites of sugary breakfast cereal. Across the table, your father sat in his equally clean and pressed black suit, the jacket hanging off the chair like clockwork. He was reading the newspaper, the ink turner the tips of his fingers black, and drinking black coffee from the boring, plain white mug he used every morning like clockwork. You made him a mug for father’s day, covered in bright splotches of colour and squiggly doodles that vaguely mimicked smiley faces, hearts, and stars. He used it once, and then it became a holder for pens and pencils on his desk. You didn’t mind, you were just happy he appreciated it, that he even used it at all.

Your mother was frazzled upstairs. Dustin had just been born, he was hardly alive and yet he insisted on making his presence known by screaming. He’d been in and out of the hospital since he was born. Your father wasn’t pleased about it, you’d heard them fight, but when you looked at your baby brother, he seemed fine to you. He didn’t have collar bones, fair, but you thought it was cool. And besides, his big eyes made up for it. You thought he was beautiful. Your father disagreed.

On mornings like this, you had to make your own breakfast, which meant whatever the sugariest cereal you had in stock was with too much milk because the jug was too heavy for you to lift and your father was never really watching to make sure you could handle it. You ate at the table in as close to silence as a five year old could muster, which meant you hummed to yourself and muttered whatever thoughts you had to yourself, and your father read in silence. It was nice though-your father worked long hours and you hardly saw him because of it. Those brief moments at the table before he left for work gave you simple moments with him, the tangible kind you could taste and smell and hear and feel when you recalled them.

You heard your mother let out a sharp cry, a word you knew you weren’t supposed to use and mommies weren’t supposed to say. “Cliff!” she cried from upstairs “I think he’s sick, I think we have to go back to the hospital!”

Your father looked up from his paper for the first time that morning, calling back “I’m sure he’s fine, Claudia! He’s just acting like a baby!” and then, he looked to you. He hadn’t looked at you all morning. And he smiled, he rolled his eyes. This was an intimate moment, a brief beat where your sentiments were aligned and he treated you like his equal. He believed that you two had the same feelings on the situation happening just above you. And you complied; you shrugged with a giggle, a secret shared between you two. For the first time in your life, you and your father were aligned, comrades in battle instead of trailing daughter to distant, aloof father. That little look you shared was a moment you held onto for the rest of your life, until he sent you back to Hawkins without a second look.

You wondered if that was who Steve could become. You could almost see it-if life led him done the same path it led Hopper, you could see him becoming jaded and cynical and distant. But then there was something in him, an eternal sense of hope, which kept him away from that path. He didn’t believe that the world was inherently good, he knew that there was evil always lurking around the corner, but he still believed in some sense of good and truth in the world, something you couldn’t fully get on board with anymore. You wondered if he had a cynical bone in his body. You guessed not.

“You ready to face the wrath of your mom?” Steve asked, drawing you out of your thoughts, an ease to his whole demeanour that felt unearned. You wished he was still nervous around you instead of so cool and collected.

“Eh, I guess…as long she actually believes I was at Jenny’s I should be fine. If not…well I would really appreciate if you were a poll bearer at my funeral.” You replied.

“Oh yeah? Who else should I ask?” he asked with a grin, pulling out his wallet to pay for breakfast before you could even ask for separate checks.

“Well Dusty, obviously, then get Lucas and Mike, I don’t really think Will can do the heavy lifting, not that Mike really could either…maybe get Marvin Rubio to do it, he’ll cry his way through it but he’s stronger than Mike and should be able to help hold my ass up, as long as he’s got a strong support around him to lift I won’t end up on the floor.” You said decidedly.

“What should we do about lover boy then?” he asked “I’m sure he’d want to carry you down the river.”

“Don’t let him touch me, and don’t let him make a speech! My mother will kill my ghost and I wanna haunt some people.” You replied.

“Duly noted, now let’s get out of here before Callahan puts an APB out on my location.” Steve said and you nodded, getting up from the plastic seat, your thighs sticking to the material slightly. Going home sounded both good and bad to you now; good, because you could finally change and wash the sins off your body, but bad because you have to finally deal with your mother. And the negatively were vastly outweighing the positives. Still, there was nowhere else for you to go, so you gritted your teeth and climbed back into Steve’s car.

The drive was short, much to your chagrin, and you were home before you could find your strength again. Unlike before, Steve wasn’t parking, so you quickly gathered your things.

“Thanks, for picking me up…and for breakfast, it was nice.” You said awkwardly, slinging your purse over your shoulder. He nodded and you climbed out quick, set to begin the dreaded ascent up your driveway.

Steve rolled down his window, calling after you “Hey! Before you try to make other plans, you wanna hang out with me and Dustin tonight? I’m sure the kid would love having you around.” He asked.

You nodded “Sure! Sounds good!” you replied with a grin, waving as he drove up before rushing up the steps. It was still early, maybe she was still asleep.

The door burst open. “Y/N!”  

You were so dead.

[xaz-fr]

The Story So Far

@griminal-rising @deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @tales-around-sornieth (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

dragons are humanoid unless said otherwise

like my writing? Consider buying me a coffee

Idk. I didn’t really have a point with this. I just wanted some dragon interactions, especially with some of my new dragons. And also that like... going back and forth between forms isn’t something done quickly but Amun’s just a stubborn idiot who refuses to make his life easy by staying humi.

A Dull Ache

Jessabelle liked having an employee. It meant she could do other things instead of constantly have to watch the front of the shop. Like do inventory and put in orders with traveling traders or, her favorite, make bargains with said traders. Most of the regulars knew of her and any new traders were aware of the wiley swamp-bound skydancer. She was just glad they had things other clans thought were valuable. Since the Hall had expanded there was now actual products to sell on a fairly regular basis. Dodge was also a model employee. Was respectful, quiet, and knew how to talk the trader talk. That and he wasn’t intimidated by anyone. Not even Shi and Jessabelle didn’t like to admit even she was a bit intimidated by Shi. She left him in charge of the front of the shop while she was going over her ledger.

“Jessa!” she looked up when Dodge called her name.

“What?” she called back, not ready to get up from her desk quite yet.

“There’s a scavenger here looking for you-

Jessabelle jumped out of her chair and was through the curtain that separated her home from the shop before Dodge had even finished speaking. “Amun!” she sort of hated herself for being happy to see the Wildclaw. He was covered in dirt, his hide and feathers more than a bit smeared with dried mud and his normally shimmering wings were dull from a fine layer of dust over them.

“Jessabelle,” he said in short greeting and eyed Dodge as she came around the counter. “Who’s that?” His crest was a bit pulled back.

She stepped on one of his slowly extending big claws and gave him a look. “That’s my new employee, Dodge,” she said.

“Employee?” he gave her a confused look.

“It’s getting busier around here. The Hall’s getting bigger,” she said.

“Ma’am, who is this?” Dodge asked, eyeing Amun with equal distrust as Amun was him.

“This is Amun, he’s an associate of mine. He goes out and raids Second Age ruins and brings back interesting things… or garbage,” she gave Amun a look. He just shrugged non commitedly.

“Ah,” Dodge wasn’t so suspicious now.

“Where were you?” she asked Amun.

“Wastes, came north through Expanse coast. New volcano off the coast of the Wastes,” and he started unloading his bags and satchels and containers onto the counter.

“Hey, watch the dirt. You’re making a mess,” Dodge said. Amun ignored him.

“A new volcano?” Jessabelle asked him. Amun nodded. “You look into it?” He shook his head as he pulled a large, metal, ring out from a bag much too small to contain it and set it on the counter. “Why not?”

“Looked bad. Lots of fighting. Too much Fire,” he upended the rest of the bag and several large, uncut, pieces of gemstone fell out. “Great Furnace slow working,” he took another bag and started taking iron rods out of it. “Iron supply low, Lightning clans are buying whatever they can. Could only get this much.”

“How much is it?” Jessabelle asked.

“Fifty pounds?” Amun wasn’t sure himself.

“You put fifty pounds of iron in that bag? How?” Dodge demanded.

Amun looked at Dodge and then turned away from him. Dodge’s wings fanned out angrily but Amun was ignoring him. “Couldn’t get any copper. Lightning clans buy too much.”

“Silver? Gold?” she asked.

“Hmmm,” he took another bag and dumped it onto the counter. “Ore,” he said as dark rocks rolled out onto the wooden counter.

“Amun, we live in a swamp. What are we going to do with ore?” she demanded. Amun just shrugged. “You didn’t bring me something stupid like gravel again did you?”

“It had diamonds in it,” was his only reply.

“Yeah, and I had to pick them out by hand!”

“This,” he didn’t respond to her annoyance and reached into a pocket on his vest. “Found in ruins between Wastes and Expanse.”

“Oh,” she took the pretty thing. It was a ruby carved into the shape of a rose. Then she narrowed her eyes a little, “Did you bring it for me?”

“Two,” he took out another one. This one was bigger and she felt a bit slighted. She didn’t know why. She knew she just did this to herself.

“Oh, well that’s something,” he put the rose back into the pocket. “That it?” she asked.

“Mmmm,” he patted down his bags and pouches while Dodge looked at all the stuff he’d dumped onto the counter miserably. “Hmm,” he found a bag that wasn’t empty and carefully took the items out. It was a bunch of raw crystal of various colors.

“What are these?” Dodge asked.

“Fire crystal,” Amun said. “Er- made from fire, crystals. Not Fire crystals,” he elaborated and Jessabelle had never heard him elaborate on anything. He looked back at Jessabelle, “That’s it,” he said.

“Well, alright,” she looked at what Amun had brought. It wasn’t an insignificant amount of stuff. A bunch of trash like usual: Rocks, twigs, branches, scraps of fabric, cracked or broken pottery and glassware. But there was some good stuff too at least. “Dodge, I want you to catalog everything, sort it, and put it away,” she said.

“All this crap?” Dodge groaned.

“Yes. That’s why I pay you,” she said nicely but not too nicely.

Dodge sighed, “Yes ma’am.”

“When you’re done you can close up the shop and go.”

“Really?” he perked up at that.

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay,” he seemed more cheerful about that.

“As for you,” she rounded on Amun who was scratching some dried mud off his haunch, realized Jessabelle was looking at him and looked more than a little sheepish about being caught. “You’re filthy, come with me,” and she grabbed his claw and led him into the back house. Dodge watched them out of the corner of his eye but otherwise didn’t comment.

“Jessabelle-

“You can stand to spend some time here first,” she scolded him gently when Amun tried to weasel his way out of it.

Amun sighed a little. “Fine.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to take somewhat good care of yourself. Look at you, you’re filthy.”

“I was outside,” he huffed.

“So?”

“In the mud and stuff.”

Jessabelle stopped, “Amun,” she said slowly. “We live. In a swamp,” she reminded him. He just sighed but didn’t argue with her. “Go put your things down, I’ll start a bath,” she said and shooed him off to the other room. His wings slumped a little but he went. She heard him starting to take all his crap off in a clatter of metal, stone, and bags. She went to another room where there was a tub. She filled it and filled a smaller basin as well with a faucet connected to a water purifier. It was newish. She was glad that the Hall was getting larger, wealthier. They could afford things like this now.

She looked over her shoulder when he stepped into the room. He was still covered in mud and dirt but was without his effects. “Come here,” she beckoned to him. He did as he was told and she turned off the faucet so it didn’t overflow and grabbed a rather large rag, dunked it in the basin water and went about taking off the worst of the dirt and dried mud he’d accumulated. She knew it was a bit more difficult for him to get his back haunches and his back, Wildclaws weren’t flexible like Skydancers were, say nothing to the fact that their front claws were shorter. Not that you should ever mention the fact that a Wildclaw’s front limbs were too short. That was a good way to get maimed. He started making that content noise in his throat as she cleaned got all the gross dirt off him. “Okay, I think you can get in without making the water filthy immediately,” she said, standing back to admire both her handiwork and how good Amun looked.

A Wildclaw clambering into a tub of water was about as graceful as it sounded but Jessabelle didn’t let that ruin her enjoyment of it. Amun flopped down so just the top of his head and wings were above water, just enough to keep barely his nostrils in the open air. “You look silly,” she told him. His crest just flapped as if to so, ‘no I don’t’. “Like one of our hatchlings when I make them take a bath,” she said. Amun looked away from her. What? Did she not like reminding him? Well too bad. He had to live with his choices

“But you aren’t so I assume you don’t need my help to get clean, hmm?” she asked him. She handed him a different rag and a large bar of soap.

“You were doing a good job earlier,” he lifted his head out of the water just enough to talk.

“Yeah, but would you appreciate it?” she asked. Again he looked away. “That’s what I thought,” she tried not to be suddenly hateful. Why was he like this? She left the soap and rag on the side of the tub and left him in the bath. She went and checked on Dodge and found him finishing up. She left him there and went back to her ledger book.

She looked up when Amun came out of the bathroom, not quite dripping but his velvet and feathers were glistening. He scratched at his crest and went into the bedroom where he’d left his things. She was a fool but followed after him. “You’re all wet,” she huffed as she was in time to see him flop down in her bed.

“Stop complaining,” he said and yawned.

“It’s my bed, I will if I want.”

“Funny, I seem to be the only one in it,” he said.

Jessabelle didn’t take the bait. She went over and took his head in both her hands. “This is my house,” she said in a soft voice, “and you’re getting my bed damp.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with such casualness Jessabelle felt her face heat up a little. He butted his snout against her chin cutely.

“No,” she shoved his fat head away. “Last time you did that I was sore for a week,” she folded her arms.

“Yeah but it was fun,” his lips parted in a Wildclaw smile.

“For you.”

“Nah, you had fun too,” Amun said. She wasn’t about to deny it twice. She just kept her arms folded moodily. He butted his nose against her chin again.

She put her hand on the top of his head and pushed it down. “If you want to have fun change forms,” she said.

He sighed dramatically and slouched across the bed. “But that takes so long,” he complained.

“Well it wouldn’t if you just stuck to one that works,” she said.

“I can carry more in my birth form,” he complained.

“What are you? My son? I don’t care,” she put her hands on her hips. “Dry off before you start so you don’t keep my bed all damp,” she added and gave his wings a bit of a push.

Grumbling Amun did get up and used a dry towel to dry himself off. Jessabelle helped and he kept trying to be cute and bump her chin or shoulder but she wasn’t falling for it. She already fell for him plenty but this she was putting her foot down about. Once he was dry he flopped back down on the bed and laid out on it with a sigh. She knew it had started when his leg jerked and he winced. She sat on the bed next to him and put her hand on his neck. He sighed again and closed his eyes. “I’ll be right here,” she said. Wincing he shifted a bit to put his head on her lap and she gently cradled his head and rubbed the top of his head and eye ridges comfortingly. “You just to this to yourself, always insisting on changing back,” she said, not quite scolding.

“Not helping, Jessabelle,” he grunted as his wings shuttered and she heard his jaw click as he ground his teeth. She looked at him sympathetically, knowing it was pain but she wasn’t wrong either. If he just stayed humi he wouldn’t have to do this all the time.

She called a box over from her nightstand with magic and opened it when it came into her hand. Inside were gears and a cylinder with bumps on it that would tink against a series of thin, tuned, pieces of metal when wound. She turned the knob, winding it up. It started spinning and playing a little melody. She set the box gently down on the floor. Amun shuttered again and she ran her fingers through his crest as the music box played which was enough the drown out his whimpering.

[aitian]

5:43 am 12/29/2020

end of year.

feels right to revisit how i looked this yr on photobooth. most ppl only knew me through my webcam. i dont have many thoughts abt who i am or what im doing these days. mostly playing video games with alice. we smoked together a few days ago & i still feel like im in deadtime. like maybe i cant remember the important things im supposed to from the past. & rly existential lately. the panic is just in my throat, thinking abt how fast time is going & how there is no way back. i think there is a carceral logic behind the entrapment that all us depressed & anxious kids feel.. like the inadequacy of being alive, the failure to feel like a beautiful future is unfolding. im not sure anyone feels that way these days, & maybe thats why they r all holding on so desperately. all empires fall. im so grateful to be able to feel moms body & be her child these days. i just wanna lay my head on someones chest & feel good, warm, soft, coarse fabrics. also feeling anxious abt my classes, turning in the same essay that isnt rly an essay to all of my profs. oops. it was rly the best i could manage. vestigial body... i will finish writing smth i feel proud abt one day, & it will be written to myself. like this. 

idk when the last time i wrote was, but maybe i wanna talk abt my relationships. feels like i got a hard reset on my brain by smoking with alice. oh god. anyway i havent been talking to sherry & adele recently bc i just dont feel right around them. in november remembering again what it felt like to feel so unwelcome all the time, feel that energy & those manners replicated by them toward me.. ik i should just talk to people frankly abt the things im uncomfortable with at home now that i have so much practice doing it but i just dont want to. somehow it feels like they should all just know, that they are living alongside me all this time in various ways even if i am not saying things to them, & our actions that connect us in relationship are felt by them too. & there is some part of refusal to see the relationship for what it is. im not begging for some trans pity or for commitment.. those kinds of relationship arent real. what is real is wanting to spend time with me, wanting to experience some sort of exchange between bodies, wanting to walk toward near horizons. feels like everyone who listens & agrees when i speak just does it to be amicable. there are only so many ways i can reassure myself that ppl understand me for who i am, even when they are constantly being led astray to hurt me. like alice saying its good for doctors to have objective views of their patients, outside of any other relationship. mom saying that she trusted our teachers to teach us what we needed. getting weirdly gendered messages from friends at home, & never asked in good faith about how i feel. its rly so shitty that even questions like how was the day or what ru thinking rn or whats on the horizon r things they want me to ask, then dont want to answer, & make fun of bc they feel awkward saying anything. so stupid. its this kind of shit that holds me back from letting my desires be known, these rituals of repression & shame. & i always wanna hear ppls desires & then immediately regret asking to know that our relationship is in direct conflict with their utopias. so stupid.

today after dinner, which was in the late evening, mom & alice & i did some short yoga stuff & then we did silly lion dancing. im still sore. i stretched out everything that felt sort afterward. anyway, felt good to be goofy & sweat & breathe hard. 

what im feeling abt this year: - vestigial body x1000 --> dark room, heart beating fast, waiting & squeezing. theres that episode of midnight gospel when the dying dog/reindeer lady talks abt giving birth & dying, like squeezing & tensing & on no this moment will never end & then releasing & coming to rest & then all over again. & that is what i think abt every time i feel in panic now, or in a deep place of fear. there r some pains that cant be escaped, & they dont need to be. they r felt all the same.  - i made a new friend through q&a who is a kid im supposed to b mentoring. it just means that all relationships are reciprocal (i dont like that word either, but they r never simply one way or transactional) & we met every thursday during the school yr. i prepared short stories for us to read & writing prompts, & we wrote abt stuff.  - i just cant remember. all i remember abt this summer was going to stone valley with mom, feeling the sunlight & my tiredness (in an enveloping selse, toward my body & my spirit), playing games w sherry, playing some piano, & working on that fire emblem romhack. feels like the year went by so quickly. like i just had my birthday a few days ago, & now the new year means it is coming again soon. sometimes whole lives are vestigial. what is gruesome & magnificent abt that is that those vestigial bodies are hard to kill without clear intentions & collective effort. what sucks is the entrapment. i have been feeling this cant remember feeling in a bigger way, toward what my life was like before college, toward who i was in college now that i am so removed, & even more toward the kid whose world blossomed into smth they desperately desired & felt afraid of. middle school me would be horrified. maybe an even younger me would be proud, feel in awe or struck by the rightness of home. - i want to remember mom. the way she walks around with her hands in her pockets. 帅吗。:). how we skip/gallop sideways to avoid the wind on our walks, & she bounces when she walks like a silly kid. i love her. unruly gender, stubbornness of feelings, failure failure failure is why we r hurt but also why we r rly still allowed to be here. thinking abt moms essay, moving away from her grandma, thinking she would live together again someday. thinking abt how im home this yr, in a way i thought maybe i would never be ever again. its so cruel to leave love behind for the sake of a ritualized life i could never participate in. i wont do it. i just wont.

some feelings abt the coming year - i want to meet someone like myself & fall in love. deeply, with myself, in relationship. i wanna have sex too, & feel held in my being alive. i wanna be allowed to enjoy my body in even more regards like wearing short sleeves & feeling the sun on my arms free from dysphoria, existing in public not noticeably & feeling the evaporation of racial tension, waking up with that feeling of possibility, like i want to be alive & eat food & go outside & do those things in my body that remind me that i am a part of how the rest of this world is growing. i wanna be held in that knowing, together, of wellness & movement toward everything that means we matter to each other.  - playing video games has been so important to this vestige & i dont want it to remain that way. i wanna collect stuff & grow stuff in real life, & grow myself & my relationships too. its not living when its the mourning of the freedom i should have always had & should have every moment i am continuing to life unfreely. - i wanna do some stuff to express gratitude to the ppl i have continued some sort of relationship with. feel bad abt how no one has emailed me back in more than a month now. maybe wanna do a q&a chapbook or yearbook. complex feelings bc i am so not in relationship with the ppl i wanna care abt. it sucks. part of that is letting go of guilt too, & being real with myself abt how much responsibility is on the other body to make me feel okay in our relationships. its rly not my fault that, u kno.. everyone is used to making someone like me feel like shit. sad that my most continuous relationships this yr r with professors. those dumb feelings of obligation r killer. i guess im grateful to be legible in some ways, while feeling the intensely awkward unwillingness to be real abt our positions relative to each other. i think lots more happening in this regard in the coming months w classes, blk atlantic ecologies, maybe smth w prof lee. & sometimes thinking abt what grad school would mean. - i wanna feel slow, i wanna feel like myself, i wanna feel free. some feelings r sitting in the garden on my own in the spring, planting some stuff. thinking abt what it might grow into, coming back again & again. the sun ducks behind clouds & comes back out, & the world feels so light & passing by. & time feels forever, like i have so much patience to dream & breathe & observe. this is one of my early memories, watching shadows on the concrete/sidewalks at preschool, feeling warmer then colder then warmer again. i also wanna feel the kind of collectivity that makes me know we all insist on home. i want it to branch beyond this home that i know. & also mean that i will not throw this away. im thinking abt how to exist intimately with more than one person at once. it is smth i will learn as it comes into my life.

[taekookbook]

Heartbreak Girl - Part 15

Here is another apology to add to my list of apologies.

I’M SORRY FOR THE WAIT!🙊🙈

If any of you read the ‘Announcement… Sort of??’ post that I put up a little while ago then you’ll know why I’ve kind of been M.I.A. If you haven’t then please read the post so you can see my explanation.

Again, for those of you who have stuck with me through this series, it’s almost over. This is the second to last part and I’ve already started planning the last part in my mind🙌

I hope you’ve all enjoyed this series so far and I just want to say thank you to those of you who have stuck with this series💖

Fun fact: I listened to Sea off the new album on repeat (that song alone makes me emotional😭) while writing a big chunk of the last section and I cried (lol😂) so if you want to get in the mood start listening at, “But you should be.”

Remember:

Please feel free to make requests (send me a message) HERE, I look at everything and if you make a request I promise it will get done. The last few texts from my Anxiety/Depression Girlfriend Series and my Weird 3am Texts Series are in the making and I have something planned I think/hope you will all really like for when this series is done.

Enjoy my lovelies!😙

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

Part 15 of 16 (It’s almost over…)

Length: 4031 Words

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 3.5 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2 /

Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 /

­_____________________________________________________________

“No, absolutely fucking not!”

The waiting area was vacant save for himself and the rest of BTS, including Jungkook much to his disappointment, who he was currently death staring because of the previous words he had dared to let escape his lips.

“Namjoon-ah, think this through.” Jin said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder in comfort but also to serve as a reminder to not try and grab Jungkook – again.

“No, I don’t need to think it through. Y/N is not staying with Jungkook while she recovers from her TGA.” He ground out, hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was enough that he was even addressing Jungkook and standing in the same room with him, now they’re agreeing with Jungkook and his idea to stay with Y/N while she gets through her TGA (which is all his fault).

Ridiculous.

“Namjoon hyung,” Jungkook spoke politely but he could see the glint in his eyes that showed he was holding back, “even her Doctor agrees that this is the best plan. I understand that you’re upset–”

“No you don’t fucking understand otherwise you wouldn’t be saying this shit! It’s your fault all of this happened, it’s your fault she’s in that hospital bed right now and it’s your fucking fault she doesn’t remember shit… doesn’t remember me.” His throat was sore from shouting and he could feel the ache behind his eyes from tears that desperately wanted to escape.

“You don’t think I know that?” Jungkook finally lost any remnants of what little composure he had and yelled back, “You don’t think I know that I royally fucked up again? Because I do! I know it’s my fault and I feel terrible enough without you reminding me that it is. I can never take this back, I can never undo what I did and I have to live with the fact for the rest of my life that I hurt the girl I still love, again!

I hate myself enough as it is, but right now it’s not about how I feel or about how you feel or about anyone else in the bloody waiting room may feel. Right now this is about what is best for Y/N, and what is best for her is to go home with someone she is most comfortable with at the moment and let her memories come back by themselves. Forcing her to remember stuff will only make her feel worse and make her anxiety come back in full force, and before you say it’s my fault her anxiety flared up in the first place, I already know that. All I want is to make sure she is in an environment where she feels comfortable, safe and happy and from then she can decide what happens with everything.”

Jungkook’s chest was rising and falling more noticeably now after he finished speaking, and as much as Namjoon wanted to argue, he couldn’t.

He wanted what was best for you and to make sure you recovered well, but the fact that you willingly wanted to be around Jungkook again was killing him and every fibre of his being was telling him to argue that.

“Fine.” He sighed, reluctantly meeting Jungkook’s gaze again and giving one stiff nod. “Fine, I agree, but I want to speak to her before she is discharged to go with him.” He turned to face your Doctor now who just nodded and gestured for him to follow.

“Well,” Yoongi mumbled, shoulders slumping as the tension in the room slowly disappeared, “that went about as well as I expected.”

***

“Hey, how are you feeling love?” Namjoon smiled softly and walked over to your bed, sitting in the chair that was placed beside it.

“I’ve been better.” You joked lightly, taking hold of his hand that was next to yours and squeezing it tightly, “Sorry I gave you all such a scare.” You mumbled, not able to meet Namjoon’s gaze for fear of what you would see in it.

“No, don’t apologise silly, it’s not your fault.” You felt rather than saw him wince when he said the last bit and sighed, shaking your head lightly.

“Joon-ah, don’t be mad at Kookie. I know this is because we fought, well at least I think that’s what lead to this if all the tension is anything to go by? But don’t be mad at him please? You know I can’t stand fighting or shouting of any kind, I just can’t believe I actually fainted. I feel so stupid and over-dramatic, I don’t think I have ever fainted before and hopefully it’s something that I never have to experience again, but most of all I feel so bad for worrying everyone.” You were still looking down at your lap where yours and Namjoon’s clasped hands were resting.

Gently, Namjoon squeezed your hand, his thumb still rubbing small circles on the back of your hand as he did.

“Listen Y/N, there is not much I can explain to you right now that would make much sense as to why I’m acting like this, but please just know that everything I’m feeling right now is extremely justified. However I will try keep calm and be polite, but only because it’s for you.” He got up after he was finished speaking and leaned over you, placing a small kiss on your forehead before turning to leave.

“Wait Joon-ah, where are you going?” You held onto his long fingers before his hand could fully escape your grasp and he moved back a step to hold your hand again properly.

“The Doctor is going to come in now and discharge you and then Jungkook is going to take you home. I would love to say I have the self-control to stay here when Jungkook comes in, or even come with when he takes you home, but I honestly don’t right now so it’s best if I just go.” Namjoon shot you a small smile and squeezed your hand once more before fully stepping away and opening the door.

“You’ll come see me later though right? At home?” You asked softly and the answering smile from Namjoon was enough for you to return one almost as bright as his.

***

“I’m sorry!” Jungkook blurts, startling you from where you were standing in the middle of your living room, staring at the couch as something ticked in the back of your mind. “Why are you apologising Kookie? There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You turn to face him where he’s still standing by your front door, your bag from the hospital clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles white from the tension. He closes his eyes and a pained expression flits across his face before he opens them again and sighs. “It’s- nevermind. You should go shower and change, I’m sure you don’t want to smell like hospital longer than necessary.” Jungkook smiled at you briefly before looking away, taking a deep breath before motioning to your bag in his hands. “I’ll go put this in your room and then make you some tea. We should talk when you’re done.” Before you could respond he walked off in the direction of your room, leaving you alone in your living room. You turned back to look at your couch again, something pressing into the back of your mind the longer you stared, but after what could have only been a few minutes you felt the beginning of a headache start to form and looked away. Humming under your breath, you made your way to your en-suite bathroom in your room, finding your bag from the hospital sitting in the middle of your bed, clean sweatpants and a different hoodie already unpacked from it and sitting waiting for you to wear them. Smiling softly to yourself, you grabbed the clothes along with some clean underwear from one of your drawers and headed into your bathroom. *** Jungkook was a mess, to say the least. Pacing your kitchen as the kettle boiled, he waited for you to finish in the shower, running over what he wanted to say multiple times in his head. He thought this would be better. He thought his idea to have him come home with you while you still thought you guys were dating was a brilliant plan. He thought he would have time to talk about everything and that it would be easier because you thought you were still a couple. He was wrong. So very, very, wrong. As soon as he stepped back into your apartment, he was flooded with memories. Of the times when he would drop you off when you were dating, making out in the doorway as you both argued for ‘one more kiss’ before he’d leave. Of the time you spent in the apartment, baking together in the kitchen, movie marathons and building pillow forts in your living room, chasing each other through the rooms during tickle fights, the first time he whispered ‘I love you’ so softly in your ear after you’d told him about your anxiety, with tears in your eyes as you’d thought it might make him leave. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even realise the kettle had finished boiling and that the shower had stopped, so when you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, he jumped and yelped causing a giggle to fall from your lips. “Sorry Kookie, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” You laughed again softly before giving him a squeeze. “What are you thinking about so intently?” “Uh nothing, just zoned out for a bit I guess.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck, gesturing to your living room with his other hand, “You should go sit and relax, I’ll be done with your tea soon and then we can talk.” You scrunched up your nose at his serious tone, playfully tapping him on the nose before laughing and skipping off to go plop yourself onto your couch. Jungkook sighed as soon as you were out of the kitchen and leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath to collect himself before making your cup of tea and one for himself and carrying them over to the living room. He placed both mugs on coasters on the coffee table and instead of sitting right next to you like he would’ve in the past, he left some space between the 2 of you instead, angling his body to face you. You definitely picked up on the change and adjusted how you were sitting so you now had your legs crossed and a throw pillow on your lap, your fingers playing with the zip for the cover. “Jungkook-ah?” You murmured softly and had to fight the frown wanting to take over your face as you saw him wince slightly at your soft tone.

“Jungkook-ah,” you tried again, “please don’t be upset that we fought. I might not remember much but I know that we can talk through it and work it out. I’m not mad or upset with y-”

“But you should be.” Jungkook cut you off, his voice raw as if he was holding back tears.

You tried to reach for his hand to comfort him and tried to get a look at his face to see if he was okay, but he snatched his hand back and turned his face away before you could properly do either.

“Kookie please, just let me-”

“No Y/N. Please… please don’t try and comfort me right now because it won’t work and I don’t even deserve it in the first place.” He sniffed once and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes before turning to face you again.

You were shocked at the amount of raw emotion that was swirling in them, but what hurt you the most was seeing how red they were and how there was already a fresh wave of tears welling up. You felt your own eyes start to water just from looking as his and had to blink several times to clear them.

“I’m going to tell you stuff now. Stuff that you will most definitely not like hearing and will probably make you hate me, it makes me hate me even thinking about it, but you have to hear me out. Please, that is the only thing I will ask of you, is to hear everything I have to say before leaving. And don’t try say that you won’t because I know you will, if I could get up and walk away from myself I would too.”

You were stunned into silence for few minutes before nodding your head and mumbling a quiet ‘okay’.

Jungkook took a deep breath and then he started.

“We’re not actually together anymore. We haven’t been for a while. I wish I was lying right now, I wish this could all be a joke and we could go on like we used to. God, you have no idea how much I wish things could go back to how they used to be, but I made a promise to myself that I would tell you the truth and so here it is. We broke up… I broke up with you.

At the time I thought it was the right thing, I thought it was the smart thing to do. I panicked. I got scared because everything was getting so serious and I had all these feelings and I didn’t know what to do. So I panicked and broke up with you and made the biggest mistake of my life. I messed up so badly, even as I did it I knew that, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself and once it was done I just felt… I felt empty. Namjoon hyung was furious with me, he stopped speaking to me, being in the same room with me, he completely cut me out of his life as much as possible for hurting you and I don’t blame him. Even the other members were angry with me, I mean they still spoke to me but I could tell that their opinion of me had changed.

To be honest, each day was a struggle. I knew I had messed up and I was hurting so bad, but I also knew it was probably nothing compared to how you felt so I suffered. The amount of times Namjoon hyung left the dorm or practices in a rush and didn’t come back until late or the next day I suffered even more because I knew he was leaving for you, I knew that those were the days you hurt the worst and on those days I hated myself even more.

I tried, I begged hyung to let me try and make things right, to try fix things with you but he wouldn’t let me. He was so so angry with me because he had trusted me with being with you, with loving you, and I blew it. I tried to speak to you but you had blocked and deleted my number. Eventually I borrowed Yoongi hyung’s new phone before he could use it and I tried again but it was no use. You told me about how you had waited for me to change my mind, you told me how difficult it had been for you, how many nights you cried yourself to sleep, how you stopped eating, how you wouldn’t leave the house, how many times Namjoon hyung had to stay with you to make sure you wouldn’t lose yourself, how he held you while you were physically sick, how he had to watch you fall apart when you tried to pack up my things or if someone mentioned my name and how he apologised over and over for letting this happen to you. You told me how I had crushed you and that you just wanted me to leave you alone. You told me that you were finally getting better, that you could finally sleep without waking up in tears, that you could function and not panic if someone said my name, and that if you went back to me all you would do is worry about when it would happen again. No matter how many promises I made or how many times I told you that I loved you, you had made up your mind and I honestly don’t blame you. You were trying to protect yourself and your heart, something I should have been doing, but you ended up needing to protect them from me.

No one knows this, and I’m not saying this to try garner your sympathy, but I never actually gave Yoongi hyung his phone back. He had figured out that I was the one to take his new phone and when he came to find me I was curled up on the bathroom floor where I had been for the past I don’t even know how many hours, crying my eyes out and dry heaving because hearing how much I had hurt you had made me physically be sick, but there was nothing left in me to get rid of anymore. I don’t remember much from the weeks following that, mostly because I hardly ate and exhausted myself, or I did eat but stayed in the studio until I dropped, or because I couldn’t even stand myself so I drank until everything was numb and passed out.

And then last night… last night I went drinking. I had found an old photograph of us together, one I didn’t think I even still had and I wanted… I don’t know what I wanted. To make the pain stop, to make the memories stop, to just make everything stop. So I got drunk and somehow found myself at your door.

When you answered your door I could tell you knew that you would find me on the other side, it’s not like I had been very quiet. But you looked scared, you looking so fucking terrified and it was only when I looked away from your face that I knew why. You weren’t alone. You answered the door in your underwear and a t-shirt. A t-shirt I knew because I had seen that same t-shirt in our dorm countless times because it belonged to Namjoon hyung.

I wasn’t stupid, I had figured that something had happened between the two of you. Even before last night, I knew. I had known he was in love with you since the one and only time I had spoken to him after I had broken up with you and asked to try work things out. The way he spoke about you and how much he protected you and cared for you, I knew. But until last night I could pretend all the signs leading up to it, Namjoon hyung leaving the house all dressed up as if going on a date, hyung smiling at his phone or talking on his phone for hours, I could pretend all of that was my imagination. And then I saw you… I saw you wearing his shirt and when I walked into your apartment and I saw your dress on the floor and I just snapped.

I don’t think I have even felt so enraged in my entire life. Hyung wasn’t in the room when I started yelling, and then I saw you on your phone probably messaging him while he was somewhere else in your apartment and that made me even angrier. I was in your living room, yelling at you and you were still trying to speak to him. I know what yelling does to you, I know how much it scares you and how it makes your anxiety even worse, but in that moment I didn’t care. All I wanted was for you to feel as hurt as I did, that I had to see the girl I still loved in my hyung’s clothes. My hyung that until that point, no matter what he said or did to me I still looked up to him and loved him. I could see you start to panic, I could tell the moment it happened, and I guess it was muscle memory or something from when we were together that I could tell you were having an attack and I immediately stopped yelling and moved to try calm you down but I wasn’t fast enough.

What the Doctor told you is partially true. You did have a panic attack and the hyperventilation from that along with the panic and anxiety you were feeling caused you to black out. You hit your head when you collapsed but the Doctor told me as we were leaving that you luckily don’t have a concussion. What he didn’t tell you was that the cause of all of this was not because you and I had a fight, it was because I was shouting and carrying on so much and scared you so badly that that’s what caused the panic attack and the chain of events that followed. I am the reason all of this happened to you.” Jungkook finally stopped long enough to breathe properly, not that it helped because he was full on sobbing.

You tried to take a deep breath to let everything he said sink in properly when you were stopped by your blocked nose. It was only then that you realised that you had been silently crying for who knows how long.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry for all the pain I caused you and for doing this to you. I know the Doctor said that the TGA will fade and everything will come back to you, but please understand I couldn’t let this chance slip away… I couldn’t let possibly my only chance to apologise for everything slip right through my fingers. You can hate me all you want after this, that’s fine because I hate me too. I was so scared when I saw you collapse and when the ambulance rushed you to hospital. Even as Jin hyung showed up to your apartment and lectured me as he drove me to the hospital too, I never stopped praying that you would be okay. I would’ve taken Jin hyung’s lectures and Yoongi hyung’s harsh words and Jiminie hyung and TaeTae hyung’s upset frowns a thousand times over for you to have just been okay. And you are… or you will be when the TGA fades. I will take the pain over knowing that you love Namjoon hyung, and the pain that Namjoon hyung physically inflicted when he punched me when he saw you had collapsed because you’re okay. You don’t have to forgive me, I haven’t forgiven me, but please… please know that I’m sorry I did any of this to you.

I’m sorry I broke up with you and broke your heart, I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner that I wanted to try fix things, I’m sorry for making you hurt again when you finally started moving on and feeling better, I’m sorry that I scared you so badly and was actually the cause of you having a panic attack and winding up in hospital instead of helping you through them like I promised you I would when you first told me about everything, but most of all I’m sorry for breaking my promise that I would never let anything hurt you yet I was the biggest thing that did. I love you, I always have and I always will and I will never stop being sorry and trying to make up for everything I did to you. I know that you love hyung and that he loves you… possibly more than I do. And I know that he will take care of you and never hurt you like I have and I’m okay with that. You deserve to be with someone like him and out of anyone, hyung is the most worthy of you. Like I said, you don’t have to forgive me, but please… please just know how sorry I am.”

[satireknight]

TMNT S01E04 - Hot Rodding Teenagers from Dimension X

AND... just like that, the titles started getting silly.

So the Turtles are planning to turn Baxter’s van into a mobile tracking station, using the equipment in Baxter’s lab. Is this legal? This doesn’t seem legal. I know technically they’re vigilantes, but this seems a little thefty.

So they do what anyone would do: they push the entire van up the stairs, and then Donatello rips the entire side of the van off like he was peeling an orange. Explain to me again why Michelangelo couldn’t get out of ropes in the last episode.

It also turns out that Baxter’s been arrested offscreen because “the authorities didn’t appreciate it when he tried to take over the city with his Mouser robots.” Well, that happens when you print your name on your murderous metallic T-rexes. Wait, take over the city? They didn’t do that! They just tried to kill Splinter and ate an apartment building!

Since Donatello is modifying an entire van all by himself while everyone else stands around chatting, he inevitably starts asking why THEY have to do ALL the work of stopping Shredder. I’d be asking why I have to do all the technical stuff, since presumably one of the others can work a wrench.

How has the Technodrome not completely hollowed out the area under New York, causing a catastrophic collapse?

Krang has finally had enough and is refusing to give Shredder any more new toys until Shredder ponies up a pair of opposable thumbs. Shredder acts high and mighty by saying that the body is just one of several experiments he’s doing... which includes more mutants.

I can see the benefits of a bat, since they presumably would have sonar or something like that. But why a lizard? Or a mole? How are those better than the ones you already have?

Shredder then remembers that oh yeah, Krang is from another dimension, and since that dimension is full of nonstop war, he can just get weapons from THAT place. Of course, since Krang also has an army sitting on the other side, he might end up with angry soldiers ripping his face off. Krang is somehow horrified by the idea of what might come through the portal.

In “Donatello is underappreciated” news, Donatello has just managed to whip up a personalized, highly-decorated, weaponized vehicle in mere hours. How do his bros respond to this? They want more shit like higher ceilings and pizza ovens so they can mess around while driving. Amazingly he doesn’t kill them all with his wrench set, and they careen down the stairs and straight into a fire hydrant. 

Shredder is apparently expecting to just open the portal right into an armory, but instead two flying cars come zooming through. These are the Neutrinos.

And I don’t know if people will agree or not, but I’ve always hated the Neutrinos, the futuristic alien elf people, even when I was a little kid. Part of it was their voices; they always sounded like they had a sore throat. Another was the antiquated slang that they used, which... I never understood the reasons for and is kinda cringey.

But the most glaring reason for me was that they never felt like complete characters. Think about it: when you strip away the weird way they talk, what are you left with? Who are they? What shapes them as people? Answer: we don’t know, because they’re not really developed. They are all basically the same bland empty character. Kala is particularly bad, because her only narrative function is for Michelangelo to occasionally crush on her. She’s not a real character on her own.

Let’s just say I prefer the Neutrinos in the IDW comic, where they actually have some character and function instead of “we’re fun-loving teenagers and the grown-ups oppress us!”

sigh

So they’re chased by a pair of rock warriors in a flying tank, and that sounded so much more metal in my head.

Rocksteady and Bebop blow up the tank, and a firefight breaks out as the Neutrinos escape. The Rock soldiers encounter Krang, who is upset that they’re seeing him naked.... and by naked, I mean just a brain on a little wheelie stand. Apparently he “lost” his body when he was banished to Earth... although I’m not sure how or why.

And then the awkward writing kicks in: Krang and the warriors talk with horror about how the Neutrinos hate war, won’t fight, and “encourage people to have fun.” Perish the thought. Oh Lord, the heavy-handedness is making my brain hurt.

Oh hai World Trade Center. You’re making me feel awkward and a little depressed.

So the Neutrinos drive right out of a subway entrance, and the Turtles immediately start chasing them, ultimately leaping right into their cars and forcing them to land. But then they find out that the Neutrinos have no idea who Shredder is, and are just a group of shrill-voiced tiny elves who unironically use terms like “daddio.”

So the Turtles do what any person would do with alien visitors: they take ‘em to... an arcade. Why? I have no idea. 

April sparks off a conversation about Dimension X, and another silly “all the grown-ups don’t want young kids like us to have fun!” conversation takes place. Look, is there any child with six brain cells who won’t feel pandered to by that sort of thing? Especially with idiotic ideas like them being chased because they trespassed on a battlefield.... um, getting onto a battlefield is its own punishment, because... you are going to die. Nobody’s going to stop fighting just to kill YOU.

Just then the Rock Warriors torpedo the building and put the scene out of my misery. By coincidence, all the humans in the building suddenly evaporate... so I’m going to assume they’re dead.

So the Neutrinos finally do something useful and start firing at the Rock Warriors, and Leonardo manages to wreck their vehicle with his amazing insta-growing sword.

That’s easily twelve feet long.

Just then the explosions, energy blasts and probable deaths of multiple people cause the police to show up. I wonder why.

Just then Leonardo mentions how weird it is that Shredder is able to connect to a different dimension.... NOW? YOU’RE GOING TO ASK THAT NOW? Shouldn’t you have asked that back before you were playing pinball and listening to the Neutrinos bitch about how mommy and daddy won’t let them zoom around in circles being obnoxious?

So yes, the Turtles finally break out of their “fun” brainfog and realize that they could be facing a global invasion, which is kind of important. It’s about time that tenuous plot finally reared its head.

“This is my Magic 8 Ball!” 

No, it’s actually a weather-making device. And then they’re attacked by the NYPD, who must be really fucking jaded if they don’t react to a couple of guys apparently made out of rock.

The Neutrinos tell the Turtles and Splinter about Krang, which explains the whole talking brain thing that came up in the last episode. Wow, that might have been good information to get from them BEFORE YOU WENT TO A FUCKING ARCADE. Sorry, these characters really piss me off.

Oh, and Michelangelo is crushing in Kala. Why? Dunno, because they’ve barely interacted at ALL, so I’m going to assume it’s because she’s the only girl he’s ever encountered who isn’t way taller than him. Also, her only defining trait is that she cries.

Wait, since when did they have a hydraulic platform inside a phone booth?! How do you even instal that without people noticing?

So the Technodrome that they previously spent hours or days searching for is now something they can just drive up to, and they are able to fly those flying cars right inside with no resistance whatsoever. Of course, while Donatello is diddling with the portal, the mook squad comes in and causes trouble for them, while the other Turtles encounter Shredder, Krang and the Rock Warriors.

I have no idea why Krang is bouncing with joy. It seems premature.

Also the Technodrome has a giant floor section with vanishing panels. Why? 

Finally the dimensional portal opens, which means the Neutrinos and their bad writing are going as well.

“There’s a barrel of silicone lubricant over there!” How did you know that? And why do I not want to know WHY it’s there?

“We want to stay with you, and have FUN!” Can you see why I hate this character with a passion?

The Neutrino with the gray hair says that they have to keep fighting Krang in Dimension X... which seems to go against two things we’ve been told. One is that Krang hasn’t been involved in the fighting since being banished, and the other is that the Neutrinos just mess around and don’t participate in any kind of conflict because it isn’t fuuuuuuuuuun.

So they zoom through the portal, and Michelangelo gets teary-eyed over the departure of someone he’s exchanged maybe ten words with over the span of a single day. I care sooooo much right now.

But unfortunately the weather-maker is still causing sufficiently bad weather that the ground is actually shaking. Right now there’s a friggin’ tornado in the streets.Leonardo handles it the way you’d expect - he leaps out of a flying car and almost dies so he can slice the thing in half.

And having pussed out epicly during the fight, Shredder finally throws a fit and declares that he’ll make Krang’s new body for him if Krang kills the Turtles.

And back in the Turtles’ lair, for some reason they’re back to sleeping in a quadruple bunk, while April reads them the same children’s story over and over again.

VERDICT:

This story is a big step down from the previous three, partly because it feels so schizophrenic. Parts of it, like that bedtime-story ending and the Neutrinos whining, feel incredibly juvenile and pandering to the child audience. But the other half is an actual threat of alien invasion and a dangerous weapon. 

And the two don’t mesh very well, which often makes it feel like the important plot is being sidelined for kiddie antics. It really just sticks out, especially since the characters we’ve been shown are not really the kind to respond to serious new developments by just kicking back in an arcade.

I already ranted about the Neutrinos and what shallow half-characters they are, but I gotta say again, they don’t really add much of anything to the story beyond a shallow insta-crush, infodumpage and some aerial action scenes. 

One thing that was much better in this episode is the animation, which has stepped back up from the last episode. And it has some nice moments like the police and military taking on the Rock Warriors, which gave us some good conflict and a sense that the world outside is bigger than just the Turtles and their issues.

Speaking of their issues, despite my bitching it was kinda fun to see the origins of their van, even if poor Donatello remains horribly underappreciated. He’s the kind of guy who could build a particle accelerator out of toaster parts, and people would complain because it doesn’t have an embedded clock.

Grade: C-

[jungdertale]

[The opening credits play as normal] [However, someone’s thoughts are being superimposed alongside or over]

LONG AGO, TWO RACES RULED OVER THE EARTH: HUMANS AND MONSTERS

> …

ONE DAY, WAR BROKE OUT BETWEEN THE TWO RACES

> ….wuh? Wha, wha’s-

AFTER A LONG BATTLE, THE HUMANS WERE VICTORIOUS

> Oh GOD, MY HEAD, AGH

THEY SEALED THE MONSTERS UNDERGROUND WITH A MAGIC SPELL

> Actually OH GOD MY EVERYTHING WHAT HAPPENED

MANY YEARS LATER…

> AAAGGHHhhh…

MT. EBOTT, 201X

> …what is all this…?

LEGENDS SAY THAT THOSE WHO CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN NEVER RETURN…

> Oh yeah, this is where I tripped…

[Also replace the human child with a scruffy lanky monster (maybe even his silhouette) tripping BACKWARDS, BOUNCING off all the sides of the ruins, before landing unceremoniously on his neck, sprawled like a spider on its back]

[Pan up as usual]

///UNDERTALE///

The monster slowly repositions himself in an upright position, rubbing every sore area of his body. He opens his eyes and sees that he is currently sitting inside a golden flowerbed. He slowly, painfully, looks up and sees that the pit he fell in was concaving like a slightly domed ceiling, the hole leading to the outside high above him, and that the highest surrounding structures, doric columns by the looks of them, could not even remotely reach it.

“Welp, like hell I be gettin’ back out da same way in no time…” The monster chuckled resignedly.

How could he not? The hole was completely out of reach; he had no means to scale the walls reliably with, and he was not keen on attempting to jump, lest the next fall he takes was not a lucky one where he could walk away.

The monster looks around, pondering about how he would get out of this current predicament when he spots a pathway. He gets up, lumbering toward the pathway. Just sitting there wasn’t gonna do much, anyhow.

He comes upon a doorway, with an insignia embroidered on the top. For some reason, the monster could not help feeling slightly intimidated; as if there was something great and terrible waiting beyond this door.

* Daunted, but still determined…

The monster walked through.

The door revealed a black, empty antechamber, with a similar kind of door at the opposite end. That daunting feeling still hovered over the monster; something did not feel right.

Wait, the antechamber wasn’t empty. There was a patch of light in the center, revealing a mound of grass. Sitting atop that mound was a single flower with a smiling face in the center of its carpel, surrounded by six golden petals.

The monster trepidatiously stepped towards the door; there weren’t any good vibes coming from thi-

“Howdy! I’m FLOWEY! FLOWEY the FLOWER!”

“JEEZUZ-CRIMINEY, WHAT-”

The monster jumped a foot in the air. The flower was talking! That face wasn’t for show; this thing was alive!

“Haha! I’ve never seen anyone like you before! You must be new the UNDERGROUND, huh?”

The monster stared, mouth agape. He saw alot of strange things in his lifetime, but this? There was something he couldn’t shake his mind off of.

“Golly, you look so confused. Maybe someone oughta teach you how things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do.”

“…w-wait, now hold up a sec-”

The monster had finally found his voice only to be interrupted by Flowey’s eagerness.

“Ready? Here we go!”

The monster soon found himself facing the flower. Suddenly, a heart-shaped phantasm glowed brilliantly within him, as the monster looked down in surprise.

He recognized this situation immediately.

“See that there?” Flowey piped up. “That is your SOUL. The ve-”

The flower gave a split-second pause as he looked at the monster. He quickly regained composure and continued on.

“…the very culmination of your being!

"Wowee, look at that! Your SOUL’s amazing; it’s got LV a-plenty!” The flower’s voice was one step away from a squee.

“…LV?” The monster asked.

“Aw, comeon now, silly! You knoooow……LOVE! And surely, that SOUL looks like it could always get a little more LOVE from little ol’ me! Comeon, let me share some!”

Flowey winked with what the monster could only interpret as mischief. The flower then conjured up white pellets around him.

“Down here, we share our LV through…little white…

”…‘friendliness pellets!’“ Flowey explained with a gleam in his eye.

"Are you ready?” Flowey called out. “Comeon, grab as many as you can!” The pellets slowly drifted towards the monster.

The monster flailed about, but stumbled clumsily, falling on his face, missing the friendliness pellets by a margin.

“…Hey buddy, you missed them.” Flowey admonished, while still smiling, his brows creased, somewhat vexxed.

“…ya’ll have to forgive me, I’m really REALLY sore from falling down here, still.” The monster sheepishly replied.

“Oh, then don’t worry; we can try again!” Flowey’s face brightened back up with anticipation.

“That’s…that’s ver’ generous o’ ya, l'il flower…”

Again, Flowey conjured up the pellets, and sent them in the monster’s direction. The monster wobbled feebly, and even though he swung about wildly, completely missed the pellets again, falling flat on his back.

Flowey’s look of annoyance returned, slightly crosser.

“…you have to be kidding me. Is this a joke? Are you braindead?

"RUN. INTO. THE. BULLE-riendliness pellets!” Flowey had started tirading, but caught himself and regained composure, trying to return to his initial demeanor.

“Tell ya what, why don'tcha fling 'em while I’m here? I might get 'em more easily now.” The monster responded begrudgingly.

Once more, the pellets were conjured and flung towards the monster. The monster, not even getting up, reprised with flailing his limbs about, slightly rolling his body in an attempt to grab all the friendliness pellets this time.

He missed every single one of them.

The flower’s face transformed from vexation into a horrifying visage.

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON HERE, DON’T YOU?” Flowey’s cheerful voice had transformed into a gravelly growl

The monster was getting back up, glaring back up with his left eye.

“You said it yourself, I musta had a high LV. Wit’ dat, I woulda probably known a thing or two.”

“THEN YOU JUST WANTED TO SEE ME SUFFER!?”

“I gon’ be honest, I wasna completely sure meself what you was doing, I 'ad to be sure.”

“WELL THEN, IF YOU AREN’T GOING TO BE ANY FUN,”

“Friendliness pellets” spontaneously conjured up all around the monster, hitting him repeatedly. The monster yelled out in pain with every hit until he fell back to his knees. At that, more pellets were generated, surrounding him in a ring, ready for the final fatal strike.

“…DIE.”

The pellets slowly closed in on the monster, as Flowey laughed maniacally.

*Can’t believe this is how we’re gonna go. After everything that’s happened, we’re going to be executed by a bored flower.

The pellets were inches away. The monster clamped his eyes, awaiting his demise.

It didn’t come.

The pellets, upon contact, disappeared, and instead of killing him, the monster was completely revitalized. Flowey came out of his reverie, glaring in confusion.

Suddenly, a flame appeared right beside the flower. It then rushed at Flowey, knocking him out of the area, as Flowey screamed. The monster was stupefied at his sudden apparant rescue.

“Such a terrible creature, torturing on others in distress…!” a woman’s voice rang out.

“Wuh?” The monster looked about.

The voice had come from the individual currently rushing towards him, another monster.

This monster was wearing a large blue tunic stopping short at the ankles with draping white sleeves. As the light hit her more clearly, the monster could make out her features more clearly. She was a particularly large individual, quite possibly a good five heads taller than he was. She was covered from head to toe in white fur (well, what was visible anyhow). Her hands and feet appeared to be soft and pawlike. Her head had two horns resembling a dik-dik’s on top, long ears like a beagle’s draping the sides, a pronounced muzzle with a mouth that had her canines slightly jutting out, and soft brown eyes currently admonishing with concern.

She looked startlingly similar to him, but white and soft…

“Oh dear, are you alright? I have seen that flower before, bullying the other monsters, but never before had I seen it attempt to do something as drastic as this.”

She helped the monster to his feet, brushing him off as well.

“…I think I’ll be able to manage, now.” The monster came out of his stupefied reverie. “…to whom may I call the fair lady who came to my rescue?” he all of a sudden asked with a sly grin and wrinkle in his eyes.

Said fair lady’s concerned face snapped into a flustered expression, followed by blushing, sheepish grinning, and tittering as she struggled to cover her face in order to save composure.

“O-oh dear me! Noooo, surely a fine person such as yourself could do much better than me, and most certainly much better than THAT!” she coyly jabbed back. She then cleared her throat and took a breath to regain composure.

“My name is Toriel, and I am the caretaker of these ruins. I pass through this area every day to see if anyone has fallen down.”

Toriel took a good second look at the monster now standing before her.

This monster also had a pronounced muzzle with canines jutting out. Whether he had horns or ears like her was unknown, as the sides of his head was completely draped in long black hair slightly sweeping the shoulders, and hanging on his back; and he was wearing a black cadet cap, on top of what seemed to be a blue bandana if the knot at the back of his head were any indication. He also had a scruffy tufts of mustache as well as a goatee adorning a short beard along his jaw. His fur as well was a near black color, more like a warm dark grey. In turn, he was wearing an exceptionally worn out jacket, the sleeves torn off with remnant tears at the shoulders, and the midriff cut short. It looked like a rather small vest on him, it couldn’t cover the entire front of his torso; that was covered by a red tank top which also looked stretched. He wore dark grey pants to accompany this ensemble, and his boots made no attempt to disguise just how large his feet were.

Could he be…?

“It has been a long time since I have seen anyone like you, out of anyone else who had fallen down here.”

Toriel started making her way toward the opposite end of the antechamber, where she had entered through.

“You could be my guest for a bit, surely?”

The monster, taken aback by everything that transpired before his eyes in the past 5 minutes, was more than eager for a change of pace from all the misfortune.

“Please! Lead the way, madam!”

The monster followed Toriel when she suddenly stopped and turned around to face him.

“Oh! Where are my manners; I do not even know what your name is.”

“Ah! Dun worry, s'not yer fault; I shoulda done that. Da name be Jung, my lady; at your service!”

His voice had reverted from marginally articulately formal back to his casual Cajun drawl.

Toriel slowly smiled and tittered again.

“Oh stop that, you; you’re embarrassing this old bird!”

The two laughed as they exited the antechamber into the ruins.

Close by, the figure of Flowey was slowly stalking behind…