#and have that be genuine!! not a forced smile hanging onto my last thinning thread! I’m

[facetsofthecloset]

Tbh my life would be pretty perfect right now if my current part time janitoring job paid. Like. A livable wage. Genuinely love doing it, the hours are perfect, I like my coworkers (and don’t have to interact with them much which might contribute to that lol), it leaves me so much time and energy afterward to enjoy my day and live my life—

Except I’m still scraping the bottom of my savings to pay the Existing Fees. Not quite as fast, which is nice, definitely, but like. What if I wasn’t in the red and had this job I think is important and enjoy but also doesn’t consume 110% of my whole life. What then, huh? I might have a good time? I might actually have a chance of kicking my constant SI at some point? Can’t have that can we? Misery is the currency that runs the world isn’t it? Can’t have people having a good time. We might be better off as a society then and that’s not allowed obviously

[vannahfanfics]

Our Fate, Tied to Crystal

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Characters: Millianna, Sho

It was devastatingly beautiful— the mirror-glass sea stretching in all directions around Millianna as she stood on the foundation that once held the Tower of Heaven. Her eyes were lidded as she stared up into the blue sky, envisioning the crystal structure that she and her friends had slaved over for years on end. It was remarkable, how in an instant , it had shattered into diamond dust— just blipped out of existence with only bedrock a few inches below the saltwater to serve as its legacy. That, and their painful memories, of course. 

Truthfully, Millianna was not quite sure why she’d wandered back to this empty place. She, her friends, and the Fairy Tail mages were resting in the nearby port town. After recuperating for several days, Millianna had been permitted to mosey about the area— yet her feet had carried her here, to this graveyard of misguided ambitions and lost time. Perhaps Millianna’s heart was not yet ready to let go, to accept the sobering reality that she’d nearly led the most important people in her life to ruin. 

Millianna’s eyes watered, and she hung her head. Her chin thumped lightly against her chest as the tears slipped down her cheeks. They pooled on her jawline before dripping down, splashing into the water below. Ripples propagated from the tiny droplet, disrupting the perfect stillness of the sea. 

“What am I going to do now?” she whispered to the heartless breeze. It ruffled endlessly over her, plucking at her clothes and her short orange-brown hair. Wrong as it may have been, the Tower of Heaven had given her purpose. Her reason for living was now just as much dust as the towering figure, lost to the wind. Millianna had nothing. 

“No,” she refuted with a small sniffle and wiped furiously at her eyes. No, she still had something very precious. Though Simon had been lost, Millianna still had the others— Erza, Wally, Sho. Her heart fluttered as she thought of the cheeky blond boy. 

Yes, Millianna still had something very precious indeed. 

Her titillated heart sunk in the next second. Sho had told her earlier that morning when she’d visited his room that he intended to travel the world and learn all there was to know. He’d looked so excited, eyes sparkling as he stared out the window into the great beyond. Millianna wanted to feel happy for him, be overjoyed that so soon he’d discovered something new to sustain him. Yet Millianna could only feel apprehension, and it was more for herself than anyone else. Everything she knew seemed to be slipping through her fingers, like the fine grains of sand lining the beach behind her. Soon, Millianna really would be left with nothing, and then what would she do? 

Millianna heaved a sigh. It caught on the wind and floated up, up, and away to join the shattered hopes and dreams floating in the clouds in the sky above. She raised her head to look out at sea again; the ripples had stilled, the water smoothed like sleek glass— as if the crystal tower had just melted into a thin sheet atop the salty brine. 

Millianna raised her eyebrows as small waves hit the back of her bare ankles, rippling around her feet and disturbing the water again. She turned to see Sho wading out onto the water-covered platform, his pants tucked above his ankles to keep them dry. Millianna’s throat bobbed as he approached. The emotions rushed up inside her throat, sticking there and threatening to suffocate her. 

“I found you at last, Millianna,” Sho smiled. His smile had always been so gorgeous, white and perfect and laced with boyish charm. As he flashed it at her, her heartbeat quickened in her aching chest. She found herself spellbound by its simple beauty, so she said nothing as he joined her in the middle of the ruined tower base. “What’re you doing out here?” 

Well, a question begets an answer, so Millianna had to speak this time. 

Millianna looked to the horizon, where the two expanses of blue joined into a line of forever. She sighed again, and the sea breeze whisked it away just as it had everything else of Millianna’s in recent days. 

“I’m just thinking about the future,” she admitted quietly. She heard the rustle of Sho’s clothes as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “For better or for worse, most of my life was here in the tower… and now it’s gone.” Her eyes watered as the apprehension and hopelessness bubbled up inside her to a boil, and again the tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked back to him. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m going to do .” 

Everyone was leaving. Simon was dead. Jellal was imprisoned, and Erza was returning to Fairy Tail. Wally and Sho were yielding to their wanderlust. Yet Millianna had nothing, no place to go. Was she doomed to make this place her grave, to bury herself in the remains of the Tower of Heaven and become one with the sea? She’d always fancied a tragic end steeped in romance. Perhaps that was the only path left for her. 

“Millianna.” 

Oh . Millianna liked it when he said her name like that, with a voice soft and genuine. It set a shiver to her skin, pleasurable tingles making her hair rise just so slightly. It called her like a siren, swinging her gaze from the endless ocean to the boy smiling softly at her. Sho reached out to gently put his hand on her arm; it slowly slipped down, traveling over her skin before he settled in her hand. Their fingers locked together effortlessly as if they’d always belonged together. When he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, she felt her worries melt away, down through the soles of her feet to wash out in the water. 

Her eyelashes fluttered as she regarded him miserably. She felt it breaking, the barriers she’d erected to protect herself in the Tower of Heaven. With the structure nothing but crystal dust and fading memory, what need did she have for them anymore? The truth trickled out little by little, flooding her being with bittersweet longing. 

“I’m going to miss you, Sho. So much.” 

“I’m going to miss you too, Millianna—” he started with an understanding expression, but she interrupted him with an exasperated huff. Her free hand teased frustratedly through her hair, and the nervous twitches of her body sent the ripples spreading over the glassy water again. 

“No, you don’t understand! It’s not like— it’s not like how I’ll miss Wally or Erza. It’s different with you!” She was yelling at him now, tears streaking down her cheeks, as the emotions she’d suppressed for so long burst forth like water from a wearied dam. Sho only gaped at her. Suddenly, the raging storm vanished, exhausted from beating upon the shore, leaving her with cold, hollow loneliness and fear. Hanging her head, she squeezed his hand tight. “I love you, Sho.” 

The sea breeze rippled past them. Its lithe fingers plucked at the folds of Millianna’s dress and Sho’s dress shirt and slacks to fill the air with gentle ruffling. Sho was silent for a moment, a moment that stretched on forever; just as Millianna began to wonder what was going through his mind, he sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled. 

“I know, Millianna.” 

Millianna felt the lump re-form in her throat at the nondescript answer. As her face screwed up in a mixture of confusion and trepidation, Sho smiled sweetly and tenderly cupped her cheek with his hand. She immediately burrowed into his palm, savoring the softness of his skin against hers. Her teary eyes fixed on his face, committing every aspect of it to memory. 

“I’m sorry, Millianna, but I can’t reciprocate.” 

Millianna jerked back, an expression of hurt blooming on her panicked face. Sho hurriedly grabbed her wrist to keep her from fleeing, and despite every instinct within her screaming to run, she forced herself to stay and listen. She clung to the frayed thread of hope that there was an unspoken “but.”

“I can’t reciprocate now ,” he clarified slowly. “I need to become someone worthy enough to have your heart.” 

Millianna looked at him incredulously. 

“What makes you think you aren’t worthy of it now? Sho, I—”

“Please.” His gaze was soft with affection yet troubled— desperate. “I’m not proud of the person I am right now. I know it’s a lot to ask, and you don’t even have to accept, but— please. Let me grow to be a better man for you. Will you wait for me, Millianna?” 

Millianna’s eyes shook as she held his tender, loving gaze. How could she refuse when he looked at her like that, like she had his whole world in her hands? A selfish part of her wanted to refuse, to demand he stay here with her— but she silenced that discontented child. Exhaling with a small smile, she nodded. 

“Yes, Sho. Of course. I’ll wait as long as you need.” 

“I’m glad, Millianna,” Sho said, visibly sagging in relief. As Millianna began to try and memorize every feature about him again, he fished something out of his pocket. “I know it’s going to be hard… So I got this.” 

He handed her a small lacrima. With eyes wide with wonder, Millianna held it up, mesmerized by the sunlight refracting over its crystalline surface. “We’ll still be able to talk!” he explained excitedly when she looked back at him. He looked sympathetically at her then, as the disappointment must have etched permanently into her face though she tried to seem optimistic. “I know it’s the most ideal arrangement… but I hope you understand.” 

“Of course I understand,” she sighed and hugged the lacrima to her chest. She smiled wanly at Sho. “It will take some getting used to… But I understand that you want to separate yourself from this place, Sho.” She looked around the platform, the gravestone marking the death of that chapter in their lives. Sho slipped his hands in his pockets and raised his eyebrows at her. 

“What do you think you’ll do?” 

Millianna mulled over it for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek. With Sho’s lacrima, she no longer had the desire to give up. At this point, only one option was afforded to her. It didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. 

“I think I’m going to join a guild.” 

“I think that’s wonderful, Millianna,” he grinned brightly. Millianna preened at his approval. He took his hands out of his pocket again, moving toward her, and she anticipated the embrace. As his arms wound around her, she snuggling into his form, closing her eyes and inhaling deep to savor the spicy scent of his cologne. He tucked his face in her hair and mumbled, “I’m gonna become someone you’re proud of, Millianna. I swear it.” 

“Silly,” she laughed as tears leaked from her eyes again. “I’m already proud… But you can always make me prouder, I guess.” 

For so long, their fates had been tied to the crystal composing the Tower of Heaven. That crystal was no more, mere diamond dust traveling the ocean currents to realms unknown. Their fate was tied to a new crystal now. As Millianna and Sho slowly meandered back to the town, she clutched the lacrima close to her body, eager to embrace the new chapter in her life that it heralded.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Last Dragon | The Witcher & Game of Thrones

Chapter 3 | Two Sides of the Same Coin 

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡ I would just like to say... I regret nothing. Enjoy!  P.S. let me know if you would like to be tagged! Also, I just realized the tags weren’t working properly, so I’m sorry to anyone who asked but wasn’t tagged for Chapter 2!!

The threads of dawn slowly dissipate as time passes. Seconds tick by, transitioning into minutes and then hours before nearly the whole day has passed. Now instead of soft morning light flooding through the windows the sky is nearly pitch black, except for the stars faintly twinkling and the omnipresent moon. The wildly flickering candles fill the room with a warm glow, only leaving the corners untouched and in shadows.

The tavern is busier than before, workers fiending for a drink and a warm room to relax in after a long workday. Nearly all the tables are filled with chattering people, guzzling their drinks as if it’ll disappear if they wait a moment longer. Visenya stands at the bar pouring out cups of ale or portions of stew into bowls, her movements nearly robotic. Then she grabs a tray, precariously stacking everything in order to avoid any accidents and begins moving through the tavern. She glides and spins, narrowly managing to avoid any accidents as she dances through the room.

Visenya’s eyes scan each table, memorizing the faces of every person; the shape and color of their eyes, the way their mouths move when they speak, and the presence they hold. Her eyes flit from brown to black to blonde and then back to brown, hoping to catch a glimpse of white hair. But to no avail, no matter how many times she looks, even in the deepest corners, she’s met with the sting of disappointment. It seems nearly everyone in the town is in the tavern tonight. But her mind is focused on finding the one person that doesn’t appear to be here and hasn't been seen since the morning.

But that doesn’t mean the night will be boring. Perched on a barstool, nursing a cup in the exact same spot as this morning is Renfri. Her shoulder-length hair just as tousled and messy as before, if not more so. Her leather armor remains pristine while her red undershirt is wrinkled and unkempt, just like earlier. The broach clipped onto her shirt glitters in the candlelight, reflecting like a rainbow in Visenya’s eyes. Absentmindedly, Visenya moves towards her, like a moth enthralled by light, all the grace previously present in her movements gone. She bumps into a few people, muddled shouts of anger and disbelief following her like a shadow, but Visenya isn’t focused on them. And as she draws closer, what seems like a mixture of herbs and leather oil overcomes her senses. With each step, the smell grows stronger as Visenya’s inhibitions weaken. She feels enthralled by the scent, growing more addicted with each second ticking by.

Hearing her approach, Renfri turns her head, her gaze meeting Visenya’s. Her dark brown eyes glimmer like gold, the warm firelight illuminating them in a way the sun never could. They’re wide and bright and oh so welcoming, inviting Visenya to stare at them for days on end. Dirt smudges her face, looking more like war point than the outcome of traveling too long with too few baths. The vacant expression on her face disappears, replaced with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a slight smirk resting on her lips.

And for the first time in over a year, Visenya feels her heart stuttering, threatening to give out the longer Renfri watches her. The tray resting atop her hands begins to shake slightly, hardly noticeable that one could pass it off as due to a breeze. But the growing smirk on Renfri’s face tells Visenya the excuse would fall flat. And Visenya can’t help but mirror her expression, her heartbeat starting to pick up before it resembles a bird frantically flapping its wings.        

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalking me,” Visenya said, moving around the bar. Sometime along the way she drops the tray on the counter, the material clattering against the wooden surface. Her hands trail across the countertop with each step taken, feeling the roughness and mentally counting each grain on it. Along the way, she grabs a tankard filling it with one of the tavern’s smoother ales. Visenya’s eyes move from Renfri’s, scanning the room like she had approximately five minutes ago, but this time for a different reason. Instead of white hair, gold eyes, and a brooding presence, she’s looking for a short and stout man with a balding head and stringy facial hair. Content that Aldred is currently elsewhere, Visenya moves her attention to Renfri.

“And if I was?” Renfri replies, leaning ever so slightly towards Visenya, just enough that a subtle sweet scent invades Visenya’s nostrils. It’s delicate and delightful, similar to the blue winter roses in Winterfell. A chuckle escapes Visenya’s mouth as she stops, now directly across Renfri. Using her elbows to brace herself, she lowers her upper body to lean on the bar, bringing Visenya and Renfri to eye level.

“I’d tell you to stop being a coward, and approach me,” Visenya said, taking a small sip of her drink, savoring the way the smooth liquid glides down her throat.

“I’d also say that’s no easy task. You’re easily one of the most intimidating women I’ve met. In fact, I might even go as far as to say you’re the most intimidating of all of them,” Renfri said, taking a large drink from her tankard. A smirk pulls at the corner of Visenya’s lips, drinking in the teasing words that Renfri’s saying.

“And why is that, might I inquire?” Visenya moves forward a hair, leaving plenty of distance between the two of them to appear proper - somewhat. Proper enough to not draw any attention of the drunken patrons at least.

“Well, there’s the strong possibility you might break my arm if I say something you don’t like,” Renfri answers. A single ashen eyebrow raises at the answer, Visenya biting her lips to keep from laughing.

“Let’s say I do break your arm, what then?”

“Well then I guess I’ve got a broken arm.” Renfri leans closer.

“And still hanging around like my shadow, I hope.” Visenya draws closer as well.

“I reckon it’d take more than that to get rid of me,” Renfri said. Her lips curl into a teasing smile. Despite how cracked and dry they are, they are still full and pink. Something in the back of Visenya’s mind demands that she press her own mouth against them to learn what they taste like. And she nearly gives in to the impulse, desperate to memorize the feeling of the other woman's lips. But Visenya manages enough restraint to not.

Instead, she picks up her tankard and moves her glass towards Renfri’s, keeping their gazes locked together. She taps it with enough force to have the sound of wood against wood resonate around them, but still light enough to make sure not to spill anything.

“I’ll drink to that,” Visenya said, her teasing smile evolving into a genuine one. It’s small, barely causing wrinkles to form around her eyes. But it’s more than anyone’s gotten out of her in the past year. And somehow Renfri senses that. Maybe not fully grasping how profound the small moment was, or maybe she did but in a different way as Renfri mirrors the smile. Visenya’s heartbeat continues to beat erratically. And in that moment, she decides Renfri is easily the most beautiful person Visenya ever came across. Despite the heavy bags under her eyes due to a lack of sleep and the dryness clinging to her skin from too much drinking. And she can’t help but to mentally paint a picture of this moment.

Time draws on, feeling like hours have been lost in their silent stares and unspoken words. Their gazes only break every once in a while by Visenya pouring the two of them another drink or helping another patron. But they always snap back to each other. Until Renfri breaks their comfortable silence.

“You ever thought about leaving this shit hole?” Renfri asks, pulling away until she can no longer feel Visenya’s breath fanning across her face.

“And leave behind all these fantastic people? How could I ever? Best year of my life.” Visenya said, rolling her eyes.

“So why not leave?” Renfri asks with an intensity in her eyes Visenya has yet to see. Her eyes are devoid of the mirth that lingered in them only a moment prior, her lips are pulled into a thin line.

Why not just leave? The question echoes in her mind, repeating itself over and over again. It’s such a simple question, but Visenya finds herself tongue-tied none-the-less. The answer should be easy, something she’d know immediately. But she doesn’t. Because Visenya doesn’t even know why she’s stayed here for so long. She’d been working for room and board, so saving coin isn’t correct. And she clearly hasn’t enjoyed Blaviken or its citizens, so that answer is out the window.  

“I guess I just didn’t know where else to go,” Visenya said, slowly mulling over each word as they left her mouth.  She intertwines her fingers as they fumble together like a tangled string. The sarcastic comments and teasing smirks ripped away leaving her stripped and bare to Renfri’s sharp gaze. With nothing left to hide behind, Visenya is forced to face her emotions, the one thing she’d been avoiding.

Fear.

The fear of leaving this town and discovering she’ll never be able to get home. The fear of wandering from town to town her whole life only to get nowhere. At least here, trapped in this strange place with its strange people she can pretend there is still hope. It’s cowardly and stupid, and if this were someone else, Visenya would scoff in their face.

“Well, then I’ve got the offer of a lifetime, my dear Jane,” Renfri said, breaking Visenya from her internal uneasiness. The confidence in her voice is a stark contrast to the pathetic one Visenya used. It’s invigorating and completely different from the intensity Renfri previously held. Visenya merely hums in reply, allowing Renfri to continue.

“Come with my men and I when we leave. I could use the company of another woman, especially one that punches as hard as you.” Renfri boldly offers, referring to earlier in the day when Visenya punched a patron who thought he’d take her home. Evidently he thought wrong.

It sounds so outrageous and insane. They’d only really met today and already Renfri was offering her a spot on the road with her crew. They’d hardly done anything more than exchange sarcastic quips and prolonged eye contact. So Visenya did the only thing she could do. She laughed, loudly.

“You’re joking!” she exclaims in between laughs. “You have to be. We just met,”

“I’m afraid not. My offer is genuine,” Renfri replies, seemingly unphased by Visenya’s reaction. Instead, she drinks in the unbridled laughter leaving Visenya’s mouth, tracing the way her eyes turn into small crescent moons with her golden irises acting as stars lighting up the night sky.  

“And if I turn out to be crazy? What I strip you of everything you have and leave you with nothing but a wounded ego?” Visenya presses, managing to gather her composure enough to continue a conversation.

“Well, then I’d hope you’d at least give me a good night before leaving.”  

“You’re mad, you are absolutely mad,” Visenya exclaims, gathering the attention of the other patrons sitting at the bar.

“That may be so, but I’d rather never have to come here again. But I also don’t want you to slip away. So it seems you coming with me is the only viable option,” Renfri said.

“And if I refuse?” Visenya teases.

“Then I’ll drag you with me kicking and screaming,” Renfri said, in a matter of fact tone. A large smile lights up Visenya’s face, the sight as blinding as staring at the sun for too long.  

“Alright, but if we’re going to do this, I’ve got a few questions for you. Answer them, and me and my fists of fury are all yours,” Visenya said, leaning against the countertop once more.

“Ask away, if it is in my power to answer I will.” Visenya grabs the nearby pitcher, refilling Renfri’s drink.

“First question, how much free alcohol do I get?” Visenya quips, slyly smirking at the woman. She then takes a sip from her cup as if to punctuate her question.

“As much as you want!” Renfri exclaims, getting a stifled laugh from Visenya.

“Question two, why are you in Blaviken? Besides, of course, to whisk away angry maidens on adventures,” Visenya asks, her voice lacking the light tone it held in her previous question. And the mood reflected that. The easy going atmosphere that surrounded them, blocking out the noise from the other people in the room, shifted into something tenser. Renfri’s smile dropped, forming a grimace.

“I can’t be here for the market in two days?” Renfri feigns offense but her tone is tight and strained.

“You could, but I don’t think that’s the only reason,” Visenya said, drinking from her tankard. Her eyes burn into Renfri, attempting to perceive any lies that might pour out of Renfri’s. She opens her mouth, then abruptly closes it again, and instead throws her head back as she brings the cup to her lips drinking its contents, before slamming the tankard on the bar.

“I want vengeance. Someone here stole something for me and I need to repay them,” she said, a ruthless edge in her voice. A tone Visenya knows all too well. After the death of Ned Stark, it was the only way Visenya ever heard Robb speak. Lady Catelyn would pick up the tone as well, blending rage with sorrow into the perfect storm as she mourned the lives of her children and husband. But it is also a tone Visenya often took up. From the moment she could know anything she had a chip on her shoulder because of the fate of her house. The ghost of her mother followed her everywhere she went. A constant reminder of the horrible fate she suffered at the hands of The Mountain, acting as fuel to the fire inside Visenya. Robb and Theon would tease her about how angry she was as a child, every word spoken like it was a threat, even if there wasn't one

Maybe that shared simmering rage is what brought them together. Two silly girls too angry for their own good.

“Who?” Visenya said, pushing for more information.

“Stregobor, the wizard hiding in his tower. He ruined my life and I intend to make him pay.” She says lowly, not allowing any nosy patrons to listen in on their conversation. “I used to be a princess, did ya know that. Until Stregobor sent his thug in the woods after me. He didn’t kill me like he was told to. Instead, he raped and then robbed me, intending to leave me there to die, so I ran my mother’s brooch through his eye.” Renfri said, holding Visenya's gaze. She waits for the woman to react, maybe shower her with sympathy or call her a monster. Maybe she’d run out of the tavern and never look Renfri in the eye again. Or maybe just run her through with a kitchen knife and collect payment from Stregobor. But that never happens. Visenya just nods her head.

“Okay.” she simply says.

“Okay?”

“I’ll go with you. After you get your vengeance I’ll be ready with my pack and traveling cloak.” Visenya says, downing the rest of her ale. A small smile appears on Renfri’s face, starting to distort their tense bubble.

“Okay.” She stands to leave, draining the rest of her drink as well. However, before she can walk away, Visenya reaches her hand out to grasp Renfri’s wrist. She faces her with a puzzled look.

“I know how you feel. I wasn’t able to get my vengeance, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

With a single nod in response and an unreadable expression, Renfri leaves the tavern.

__________________

“Stupid dress.” Visenya angrily mutters, throwing the rumpled fabric onto the ground then kicking it in a corner. Visenya’s evening had been at an all-time high after Renfri left. A new pep in her step that was never there before as she finished her shift. She managed to avoid any confrontation, sidestepping drunks - both angry and touchy-feely. A smile was plastered onto her face and despite her best efforts, it wouldn't come off. She was leaving in two days’ time to set off on a new adventure and no one would ruin that. Until some sloppy drunk spilled his entire cup of ale on her when he ran into her.

This caused the tray of drinks she was holding to also fall on her. Like an idiot, Visenya sat on the ground covered in ale and food alike, as the patrons watched on, not lifting a finger to help. Simmering in her rage and humiliation, Visenya pushed herself off the ground. With her shoulder, she smacked the drunk that ran into her, who at the time was moaning about his spilled ale. He fell to the ground behind her with a thud, but Visenya didn’t bother to check. Her anger was placated by the promise of getting into dry clothes and a few hours away from the tavern before having to start the cycle all over again the next day. Her shift didn’t end until another few hours, but Visenya finds herself unable to care about the consequences. What could he do, kick her out? She’s already leaving.

“Stupid drunks.” She aggressively rips the tie that was holding her hair in place, throwing it in the direction of where she'd previously left her dress and takes off her shoes.

“Stupid town.” She throws her shoes off and launches them at the door. Each boot hits the wood with a resounding thud, not that it would be heard over the loud patrons below.

“And stupid world.” Visenya mutters, not sounding as angry as before. It only took three steps for Visenya to reach her bed from the door. Now just left in her undergarments, Visenya collapsed onto the mattress, it creaked under the unexpected weight, the straw under the sheets lumpy and harsh. But it was better than being on her feet.

“I’d hate to be the source of your ire.” A smug voice breaks through the silence. Visenya jumps from the bed, hand reaching for the sword she keeps under it. Pulling the hilt out of the sheath, she grips it so tightly, her hand turns white. Her heart hammers a million miles an hour, adrenaline begins to pump through her veins. She whirls towards the source of the voice, quickly deflating when she realized it was just Renfri.

“Renfri! What in Seven Hells are you doing here?” Visenya exclaims, dropping her sword on the ground. It clatters as it hits the floor, the metal glinting in the dim light. Her tight posture loosens as a breath of relief leaves her mouth.

“Enjoying a good show it would seem.” She says, nonchalantly sitting down in a chair that’s tucked in the corner of the room. And suddenly, after the fear of someone breaking into her room, Visenya becomes very aware that she is only in her underclothes. In an attempt to maintain nonchalance, she walks over to the chest that contains her clothing, reminding herself to take steady and slow breaths. The chest, that’s only two steps away from the bed, feels like it takes hours to reach. Each step in line with her heartbeat and slightly shaky breaths.

It’s just the aftermath of being scared, nothing more, she tries to convince herself but finds herself unable to be placated by the words. The familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach returns. Her heart begins to speed up again, beating wildly in her chest.

Upon reaching the trunk, she leans down, fully aware that Renfri's gaze hadn't once left her form. Opening it, she grabs the first piece of fabric she sees, not caring how it looks or what it is. She throws on what turns out to be another dress before turning back to Renfri.

“Is that how you welcome all your guests?” Renfri continues after Visenya is dressed. Feeling more comfortable in real clothes, Visenya moves over to the bed, sitting at the end to face Renfri, only to then realize that their knees are almost touching.

It’s a small room.

“Only the ones I really like,” Visenya answers, maintaining her cool, unwilling to show how unnerved she is from Renfri’s unannounced visit.

“Now I’m truly flattered,” Renfri smirks at her. Outwardly, nothing about Renfri or her demeanor seemed different, but something about the air around her seemed more predatory. Like a wolf about to eat its next meal.

“But really, why are you here? I already agreed to come with you?” Visenya said. Renfri begins to play with a small pendant in her hand, fingers rolling across its smooth surface.

“You said you knew how I felt? What did you mean?” Renfri asks, her doe-like brown eyes meeting Visenya’s own amber ones.

At that moment, Visenya realized how extremely her appearance and demeanor differed. On the outside, Renfri had the features of a soft noblewoman - if not for the tangled hair and dirt on her face - but in reality, Renfri seemed deadly and ruthless. Another similarity it seems. Two women destined for the life of a pampered and protected princess, yet fate decided to be cruel. And for different reasons, they were forced to change from silk to steel, hardening their exteriors until they’re unable to be broken. A sigh leaves Visenya, thinking of ways to answer the simple yet incredibly complicated question.

“I used to be a princess too. It was somewhere far away from here, somewhere you’d never even heard of. There was a rebellion and my family lost. My father died on the battlefield; my grandfather - while a horrible man - was stabbed in the back by someone sworn to protect him; and my mother and siblings were slaughtered. I was only spared because a lord didn’t want to see another child murdered. He raised me as his ward and that was that.” Visenya said, the words are easier than expected.

A piece of her expects the words to feel like a thousand cuts as they rolled off her tongue.

The bitter words should feel like poison going down her throat, slowly killing her as it goes. But it doesn’t feel like that. Instead she felt nothing, a cold numbness overtaking her body. Maybe the absence of pain is worse than the pain itself because it shakes the foundation she built her life around. All her life Visenya held onto ghosts, clinging to her anger because it’s the only thing she ever had control over. No matter how grateful she was for Lord Stark saving her, no matter how happy and free she felt with Robb, Jon, Theon, and all the other Starks, she was a bird trapped. The cage was beautiful, warm, and welcoming, but it was still a cage. Or maybe Visenya just convinced herself it was.

“I was only one at the time.” she finishes. Renfri is silent, just staring at Visenya.

“You said you never got vengeance?” she asks, no discernable emotions on her face.

“Never had the chance. Robert Baratheon, who led the rebellion, died on a hunt. And I…” died before I could get vengeance on the others, Visenya wanted to say but the words got caught. She swallows the lump that found its way into her throat. Tears prick the corners of her eyes, but Visenya is too stubborn to let them fall. Too stubborn to allow the sadness to poison her, not when things were finally looking up. So she did what she’s best at. She took her sadness and despair and fear, then turned it into anger.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Renfri says, breaking the silence around the two.

“Don’t be. There’s nothing either of us can do for them. But you can still get your vengeance. Don’t let Stregobor slip away from you. Don’t be like me, working in a town you hate because you’re too afraid to do anything else.” Visenya firmly said.

“You don’t think I should let go of my anger?” Renfri said, a sarcastic lilt weaved into her words. “Be the better person and move on?”

Visenya allows the words to seep into her brain, pausing for a moment to articulate her feelings. And when she finally talks, the words feel like fire coming out of her mouth. Like a dragon roaring as it turns its enemies to ash, leaving nothing behind but the memory of their existence.

“I think you should reign fire on them all.”

Time stands still. Renfri and Visenya carefully watch the other, waiting for someone to do something. Renfri, who faces had been passive and unfeeling, begins to contort into something… fierce. Her lips curl upwards, but not into a smile or even a smirk. No, her lips are curled upwards as she bares her teeth. Her brown eyes are alight with a fire Visenya had never seen in anyone else. Like a dragon reigning hell upon its enemies. And for a moment Visenya wonders if this is what people see when they look at her? When her temper flares and her anger becomes uncontrollable. Is this the face that stares back at them?

Renfri abruptly stands from her sitting position to close the small distance between them. She crouches down on her knees, positioning herself to be in between Visenya legs. Ice cold hands wrap around Visenya’s hot hands, the contact bringing a small sense of comfort to Visenya.

“I promise you, Jane. We will kill every last one of those people who hurt you that still breathe. After I kill Stregobor we will sail to your homeland and get vengeance I swear it.” Renfri said. And something about the fervent look in her eyes and the force that Renfri speaks, Visenya believes her. A heat that wasn’t there before fills her body, warming her already temperate body. Meeting Renfri’s gaze with stars in her eyes, Visenya’s face twists into a euphoric expression.

No one ever promised to right the wrongs done to her family. The Starks were sympathetic about but never took it farther than that. And everyone else… well everyone else already deemed the Targaryens a house of madmen unfit for justice. Yet here’s Renfri, a woman who’d only known her for hardly more than a day, swearing to bring Visenya the vengeance she thirsts for. The chance to destroy her enemies and return them and their houses to the dirt. Even if Visenya knew they never could.

“But you just met me -” Visenya begins, her voice a whisper, eyes searching Renfri’s for any lies. But she finds nothing but fury. Fury, and passion.

“We’ve been over this before Jane. Besides, life’s too short to worry about things like that,” Renfri said, cutting off Visenya’s babbling.

“Visenya,” she said. Her voice barely above a whisper. So quiet it could be mistaken for the wind. “My name is Visenya.” This time the words are louder and more confident. Renfri stares at her for a moment.

“I promise you, Visenya,” she whispers, pulling Visenya’s hands around her neck. The noise from the tavern fades from Visenya’s mind, the seconds seemingly turning into hours. With each second ticking by, her body temperature rises, but not uncomfortably so. Her eyes stare into Renfri’s, counting the flecks of gold that lie hidden deep within them. Their breaths mingling in the little space left between them, the distance between them smaller than it's ever been; close enough Visenya can nearly taste the scent of Renfri on the tip of her tongue.

“You’re a dragon, be a dragon” Visenya yells in her mind, willing herself to for once take a risk. Not like the ones she took in Winterfell when she was a little girl swiping extra bread, but a real one. Something that could matter. So, with a burst of courage, she pushes her face towards Renfri’s, connecting their lips before she can talk herself out of it.

Immediately, Renfri pulls her closer, kissing her with more vigor than Visenya displayed. Like an alcoholic, Visenya feels herself getting addicted to Renfri and the feeling of her lips. They’re rough and dry, but Visenya drinks them up like she hasn’t had a drop of water in weeks. She feels herself getting lost in the feeling, unable to allow her mind to focus on anything other than Renfri’s hands in her own and the taste of her lips. Ale and raspberries linger on her mouth. At that moment, Visenya decides the taste of raspberries is her favorite.

In one swift movement, Renfri pushes Visenya down onto the bed, following the movements to straddle her. She takes her time exploring every inch of skin from between her neck down to her hips. A guttural moan escapes Visenya’s mouth as Renfri nips at her lips ---

“Jane! Get out of your room and back to work!” Visenya jumps at the sudden noise, almost immediately separating from Renfri. Aldred aggressively bangs on the door a few more times. The wooden floors creak under his weight as his footsteps grow farther away. She sighs in frustration at the interruption. Renfri deftly rolls off of Visenya and begins finger combing her hair, now even more unruly thanks to Visenya, who stands up and steps away from Renfri and her bed. Two footsteps and she’s putting on her boots.

“Until tomorrow I suppose,” Renfri said, slowly getting off the bed. She approaches Visenya, placing a whisper of a kiss on the corner of her mouth. And before Visenya can do anything else or even blink, Renfri disappears out her window, leaving it wide open as she did.

The suddenly intruding cold was welcome as it helped cool down Visenya's flushed face.

~

Tags: @queenmendes​ ; @losers-club6​ ; @demigoddesofchimichangagod​ ; @power-of-words23​ ; @winter-moons​ ; @madamwhisper​ ; @toribentleyva ;  @comicbeginning ; @naughty-koala07 ; @im-a-muggleborn ; @belgiantrash​ ; @mikariell95 ; @hyperfixation-is-love ; @lizliz3107 ; @ayamenimthiriel​

[shipper-trash-bag]

“You’re under the mistletoe!”

Sam looked up at Jack’s insistence to see, Yep, mistletoe alright. He sighed, rolling his eyes and a cheeky smile plastered on his face. “Oh no!” He joked, tone light and sarcastic in the way one does when around a child. “What ever will I do now? I guess I’m stuck here forever until someone kisses me!” He mocked grabbing at his chest like a debutante at her first ball, earning a chuckle from the kid.

“I’ll save you!”

Sam startled as he turned to see Gabriel approaching him in the baggy pj’s the once mighty archangel had “misappropriated” from the taller hunter. “N-no, that’s okay, Gabe, I-“ unexpectedly, Gabriel did not plant one on Sam’s lips, but gently pressed a kiss on his cheek, effectively earning himself a gasp from Sam. “Uh... thanks?”

“You’re welcome!” His smile was genuine, and bright. It kind of shook Sam; it’d been weeks, no, an entire month since Gabriel smiled genuinely.

Everyone knew Gabriel losing his archangel title the year before had broken him. He effectively saved heaven, but at what cost? It had been a painful process for him to become almost human, and every day was a struggle to stay above water. It also didn’t help when Gabriel only let either Sam, Jack, or Rowena touch him, and even then, they were only platonic touches.

Rowena had confessed to Sam after the second month of Gabriel permanent residence at the bunker that he had straight up jerked his head away when she’d tried to kiss him. “He’s not Well, Sam,” she’d drawled. “He must of thought I’d bite his tongue off or something! I cannot figure it out, but he’s just... different. Guarded. Keep an eye on him, aye?” And so he did.

He kept a very close eye on Gabriel with Castiel’s help. It was difficult for the guys. Gabriel needed to sleep and eat and he had night terrors that had been so bad on some nights that he’d actually drawn blood before awakening. Jack once had to slap him awake. That was a memory no one wanted to keep.

So for Gabriel to actually get up on his tip-toes and kiss Sam - albeit on the cheek - was a huge deal.

So Sam took it as a win. He smiled back and didn’t bring up how it was a bit odd or how Gabriel wasn’t shrinking away from him. Just smiled back and walked past them to get coffee started for his roommates.

——

The next day, Sam awoke to find mistletoe hanging over his doorway when Gabriel knocked in the morning. He knew Gabe wasn’t the one who put it up there since it was on the inside of his room, and he’d locked the door the night before. But still... it was suspicious.

“Hey, sorry to wake you,” Gabriel fidgeted by the door, Sam’s brain too tired to focus on much more than the mistletoe. “I just... I had another nightmare and it was- I just don’t wanna be alone right now, and... are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just... I think Cas put mistletoe on my door.” He stepped back to show it to Gabriel, who poked his head in to see for himself.

“Huh. Well, would you look at that.” He stepped into the room and turned a mischievous look to Sam. “Caught under the mistletoe with you again, huh, Sam?”

Sam chuckled. He would later admit that he only did it from sleep deprivation, but in fact, he wanted to pay it forward when he leaned down to kiss Gabriel on the cheek. “There,” he whispered. “You’re free now.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Gabriel bowed in a flourish as he closed the door behind himself. He collapsed on the bed, opposite where Sam usually slept and kicked off his slippers.

He’d come here sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep and the Dean Cave™️ felt too open. Sam almost always let him in, too, and they’d watch something soothing or uplifting together and they’d feel better. Sometimes, Gabriel came in to wake Sam from his own nightmares and would just rub a hand up and down his back until his breathing came back to normal. It was a strange relationship they had ended up with, but Sam was greatful.

“Wanna watch a documentary on dragonflies?” Sam suggested.

Gabriel shook his head, pointing to Sam’s laptop. “Nah, but you know which one we never finished last week? Oceans. I wanna see the rest.”

Sam snapped his fingers, pulling the laptop off his desk and sitting next to Gabe. “You’re right. We stopped at the crab war, yeah?”

“Yeah.” The only sound for the next forty minutes came from the laptop and their breathing.

——

“Oh you’ve got to be-“ Sam breathes under his breath.

He and Gabriel were working a case in Rapid Falls, Michigan, a possible shapeshifter situation on the 23rd of December. It wasn’t ideal, hunting days before Christmas, but they had very little other options. There had been a huge influx of monster hunts since Michael and they were stretched thin as they were. Dean had broken his leg, tailbone, and six ribs during a hunt and was confined to bed rest by Castiel’s orders, who refused to heal him just yet on account of an argument the two had. Sam didn’t want to know the details, so he just ignored them both and took the case. Jack and Mary had stayed behind at the bunker, offering to find research for anyone who’d call in asking for it.

But Rapid Falls seemed to like Christmas decorations more than any other town he’d been in during the holidays. And they’d been to NYC during the holidays once.

“Oh, agents!” The bakery store owner they had been questioning cheerfully pointed up at the archway they were caught in. “Mistletoe! Oh, it’s awfully bad luck to be under it and not kiss, you know.”

Sam rolled his eyes, wanting nothing more than to deck his halls for being such an unreliable witness, let alone kiss Gabriel in front of the man. “Ah. It’s a little inappropriate when we’re on the clock, Mr. Yeastly.”

Gabriel nodded, tucking his notepad into his breast pocket.

“Oh, well, on the cheek then!”

“Oh for the love of- Agent Prior?”

Gabriel blinked up at him, one part awe and two parts confused. “Yes?”

“Would you be okay if I kiss you on the cheek so we can leave Mr Yeastly’s lovely establishment?”

Gabriel nodded, showing him his cheek as Sam bent down to peck it quickly.

Mr Yeastly rejoiced with a whooping noise, and they left his bakery in a hurry.

“Imagine if we were real agents,” Gabriel huffed back in the car. He turned the imapala’s heat on full blast, hating how cold he was. “We could have threatened to arrest him.”

Sam laughed at the thought, wondering what he’d be able to charge the man with. “Like, ‘sir, you’re being charged with disrupting my peace.’ What even goes through his mind to say, ‘gee. I know what I’ll do! I’ll make two professionals take time out of doing their job so I can put something in my spank bank for later. I see nothing wrong with this’?”

Gabriel laughed, shaking his head as Sam peeled the car out of the strip mall. “Oh, man. I freaking hate people like that.”

Sam wanted to say “but you were like that once,” but didn’t. He knew how much Gabriel had grown since they’d first met. Gabe wasn’t like that anymore. He’d mellowed out over the years, and the last year especially had been one of growth for Gabriel. So Sam only smiled in response and they drove back to the motel they’d been staying in.

———-

They’d taken down the shifter the day later, high up in the mountains. It was gross, seeing all the slimey skin piles in the cave where the shifter had taken up residence. They’d managed to kill the thing, but not before the snow had started to pelt down on them. Unfortunately, this meant getting off the mountain side was damn near impossible, especially with the impala’s lack of snow tires. Fortunately, they came across a lovely cabin halfway down the mountain where they took refuge as the storm got worse and worse.

After lighting a fire in the fireplace, heating up some soup the owners of the cabin had left behind, and finishing their third round of war, the snow had completely covered the impala in a blanket of white.

They resigned themselves to staying there until it stopped and the roads were clean enough to drive down as they washed dishes side by side. It wasn’t until Gabriel dried the last spoon when he noticed what was above them.

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked, noticing his friend’s smirk.

Gabriel simply pointed up above their heads, Sam groaning as he realized they were caught, yet again, under the mistletoe. “We don’t have to...” he started, noticing Sam’s slightly annoyed expression.

“No, we can, I don’t mind. It’s just... it’s always you and me caught under here. I’m thinking there’s some cosmic force at work here.”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Gabriel spread his hands wide.

Sam chuckled, leaning down to kiss Gabe on the cheek, just as Gabe leaned up to do the same. The corner of their mouths touched, both freezing in shock as they realized what just happened. “Oh, uh, I didn’t mean-“

“No, it’s my fault. I didn’t -“

“Just an accident-“

“Right, totally.”

The grandfather clock in the room over ticked loudly, blood rushing in their ears.

“Uh... should we try again?”

Sam didn’t know how to answer that. Gabriel looked hopeful but scared, apprehensive like Sam would cuss him out or something. He couldn’t say he didn’t think about it from time to time - What kissing Gabriel on the mouth would feel like. No, Sam didn’t answer him with words; instead, he leaned down again, cupping Gabriel’s cheek and kissing him fully on the mouth.

It was better than he expected, the other mouth soft and warm, lips not even the slightest bit chapped. He tried keeping it caste, but Gabriel’s hand threaded in his hair, and it soon became filthy. He moaned when Gabriel slid his tongue against him, arms looping around his back and walking him backwards to the counter.

“Sam..” Gabriel panted as he was lifted onto the counter. “Sam.”

“I gotcha. I gotcha baby.” Sam kisses him like he was the only source of oxygen on an alien planet, leaning over him as Gabriel laid down on the faux marble. “Want you.”

“You got me, come on, come on. Touch me.”

And touch him he did.

They lay in front of the fireplace on the bear skin rug, naked, sweaty, and sated, Gabriel’s fingers running though Sam’s hair. “Wow.”

“Yeah...” Sam breathes back.

“If I had known that would have happened, I would have put up mistletoe around the bunker waaay before Christmas time.”

“Do you know who it was putting them everywhere?”

Gabriel hummed in response. “Cas and your mom with Jack’s help, I think. Why?”

Sam chuckled, pulling the shorter man to him. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t the mastermind to try to get me in bed with you,”

They laughed at the thought, gently touching each other until the need to join as one again hit them full force, completely ignoring the weather outside them.

They got home Boxing Day and opened gifts with the rest of their family, Gabriel disolvjng into hysterics when he opened his to find Sam had gotten him holly and mistletoe covered pajamma bottoms.

[soloragoldsun]

Rose Garden Week- Day 1: First

“Is this your first time?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“There’s nothing to be scared of, you know.”

“I know… It’s just…”

“We can do something else, if you want.”

“N-No. I’m fine! I just need a minute.” Oscar took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were filled with determination. “Okay. Let’s get in line.” He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as he followed Ruby under the shadow of the Ferris Wheel.

When Ruby had invited him to go with her to the county fair, he had been ecstatic. He had met her at the beginning of the previous school year, when he moved into the district and ended up in the same lunch period as her. She and her best friend Penny had latched onto him immediately, probably recognizing a tendency toward social awkwardness that they also shared. Quickly, he came to the conclusion that they were the most amazing people in the school.

The realization that his friendship with Ruby had turned into a crush hit him during the second semester, when the two had noticed some junior students harassing a stray dog while walking home. Oscar only managed to take one step toward them before a red blur nearly knocked him off his feet. Ruby sped past him, picking up a large branch, and proceeded to beat the two older boys senseless.

Oscar had seen to the dog, calling animal control and scratching the poor creature’s ears until help arrived. After everything was over and they knew the dog would be fine, he had turned to look at Ruby. Her face had been battered, her hands skinned, and she wore a bright, satisfied smile. Nothing had ever looked so beautiful.

And here he was, blowing his chance at impressing her by getting scared of a stupid carnival ride.

The have safety regulations, he reasoned as the line moved forward and he tried not to crumple his tickets in his nervousness. The odds of dying on this thing are really low. His traitorous mind brought up a recent news story about several people dying on a roller coaster that broke midway during the ride. That’s a rickety cart moving at a million miles an hour! This is a wheel that goes in a circle. Totally different.

Ruby glanced at Oscar out of the corner of her eye. He looks really nervous. Maybe we shouldn’t… But he said he wants to try this. He’ll probably feel embarrassed if I keep pointing out how nervous he is. Ugh, this is hard. Maybe if I pretend I’m feeling lightheaded, that’ll work without hurting his pride.

Of course, just as Ruby came up with this brilliant plan, they reached the front of the line and the man was holding out his hand for their tickets. There was no turning back now.

They sat down in the cart, which rocked a little as they moved into position. Oscar immediately froze, his pupils becoming pinpricks as the slight creak of metal hit his ears. “Why is it moving?” he muttered, pressing himself against he back of the seat as the bar was brought down.

“It needs to be able to move as the wheel turns,” Ruby explained. “Otherwise, we’d just get dumped out a quarter of the way up.” She winced when this caused Oscar’s face to turn a distinct shade of green.

“R-R-Right. That makes s-sense.” It was all Oscar could do to not scrunch his eyes shut as the wheel started moving, taking their creaky, shaky cart upwards and backwards. His hands were at his sides, pressing against the seat. You are literally the lamest thing ever. You are going to die acting lame in front of the most gorgeous girl in school.

Something warm covered his hand, and his mind went utterly blank for a split second. He blinked once. Twice. Was that…? He looked down, his heart pounding even harder when he saw Ruby’s hand resting on top of his. He looked back up at her face and was utterly floored by the gentle smile he saw there.

“See?” she said. “Nothing to be scared of.” Should I have done that? This won’t make things weird, right? She let out a small sigh of relief when she felt Oscar slowly flip his hand over so their palms were touching, and carefully threaded their fingers together.

A hesitant smile started to replace the look of sheer terror that had decorated Oscar’s face moments ago. “Yeah, it’s not so- EEP!” He stiffened, letting out a yelp when the Ferris Wheel suddenly stopped, causing the cart to swing back and forth. His legs started shaking, and he was convinced that his knees would never be the same again if he got off this alive.

“Hey, it’s okay!” Ruby scooted closer, so that their shoulders were touching, and squeezed his hand comfortingly. His palm was already extremely sweaty, but she didn’t let go. “It’s okay. They’re just stopping to let some people on the next cart. Once everyone’s on, it’ll be a smooth ride.”

“Ah. Right.” Oscar swallowed loudly. “That’s okay, then.” He glanced at Ruby, forcing a shaky grin. “Sorry. You probably think I’m a complete wuss.”

“Of course, I don’t!” Ruby assured him. “It takes guts to do something you’re scared to do. You didn’t have to, you know.”

Oscar shrugged. “I mean…you really wanted to go on, so I thought…” Idiot! Now she’s gonna feel guilty and think she dragged you on here!

Ruby squeezed his hand again. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I could’ve ridden with Yang.” She winced as the Ferris Wheel stopped again, causing Oscar’s back to stiffen further. “Why don’t you choose the next ride? I’ll go on whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Oscar agreed. He was able to relax for a few minutes after that, as the Ferris Wheel didn’t make any more sudden stops. Of course, he had to go through it all again when people started getting off the ride. Still, the warm press of Ruby’s shoulder against his and the comforting feeling of her hand made it all worth it. If he had been slightly less petrified, he might have tried putting his arm around Ruby.

Then again, maybe not. The thought alone was enough to make his heart race in a way that felt dangerous to his health.

When they got off, Oscar’s legs were trembling, and it took him a minute to get his bearings. It was then that he realized that he was still holding Ruby’s hand. And that his palm was sweating like crazy. “Omigosh, I’m sorry!” He quickly jumped away, wiping his hand on his jeans. “I didn’t notice!” Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“It’s fine!” Ruby assured him. “I didn’t notice either.”

“Right. Okay.” Way to freak out, idiot! “So, wanna check out the other rides?” he asked, attempting to salvage what remained of his dignity.

“Sure!” Ruby chirped. She honestly wanted to reach for his hand again, but decided against it for now.

They walked by the merry-go-round, and Oscar paused, admiring the painted horses and letting out an exclamation when he saw other animals, such as a gray wolf and a grizzly bear. “This is really well-made.”

Ruby nodded in agreement, staring at the nearest horse, which was an Appaloosa with Nez Perce symbols engraved on the saddle, and feathers decorating the bridle. “I love merry-go-rounds,” she admitted. “Even though no one else my age seems to. I still like naming the animal I get and pretending I’m in a race. If my horse is higher than the person next to me, I win.” Her cheeks flushed, and she suddenly wondered if she should have revealed that much. When she turned to look at Oscar, however, she was stunned to see him grinning that adorable, crooked grin he always got whenever he was genuinely excited about something.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one who still does that!” he exclaimed, letting out a laugh. “Want to go on?”

“Yeah! Dibs on the wolf!”

Oscar ended up choosing a black horse that was tossing its head upward and holding its hooves in a mid-leap position. It was, of course, right next to Ruby’s wolf.

The carousel started, and the nostalgic, familiar music began playing. The young teens grinned easily, sneaking glances at each other throughout the ride. Oscar noticed a golden ring hanging from a hook, and saw several kids making grabs for it. He held back, wanting to give them a chance. However, when the ride started slowing down, he took the initiative to stand up and snatch it just as they passed by one last time. In the moments before the ride ended, he and Ruby waited to see which of their steeds would be higher. Ruby let out a cheer when her wolf became static in the highest position.

“I win!” she declared, climbing down and grinning at Oscar. “Good job getting the ring!”

“Thanks.” Oscar gave the ring to the ticketmaster, who offered him a plush from a selection of small beanie animals that resembled some of the animals on the carousel. He chose a plush of the gray wolf and offered it to Ruby with a shy smile.

Ruby gladly accepted the stuffed wolf, hugging it to her chest and thanking Oscar profusely. She could feel her cheeks heating up. Okay, that’s totally something a guy does if he likes you. It’s in basically every movie I’ve seen that has a fair!

They ended up spending the rest of their tickets at the carousel, then hurried to find a good spot for the evening’s fireworks. They sat in the grass, Ruby holding the stuffed wolf in her lap. After a moment’s hesitation, she scooted close to him, so that their shoulders touched the way they did on the Ferris Wheel.

Oscar sucked in a shaky breath. Okay, he thought. You’re on the ground. You can do this. He glanced down, looking at Ruby’s hands, which were folded in her lap around the wolf plush. His blood went thin as he reached over, brushing his fingers against her knuckle.

Immediately, Ruby slipped her hand into his, her smile growing wider and a giggle threatening to rise in her throat. She wove their fingers together and allowed her head to rest on Oscar’s shoulder.

Oscar’s head was ringing so much, he almost didn’t notice the first few fireworks. And, honestly, he barely paid attention to them. He was far more invested in watching the way the lights from above continuously changed the color of their joined hands.

[lukeysgirl]

The Note Tree ❋ L.H. Pt.1

Part O N E 

Summary: A cherry blossom tree, residing at the farthest part of the schools courtyard. Nobody dwelled there, and you didn’t care much for it. Until you kept hearing one song played over and over, with lyrics changed to touch at your curiosity. They knew you were listening, and one day you gave in and made your way to the pink tree. Waiting for you, a series of notes tied to a single strand of string. 

Word Count: 3.5k (on the dot)

AN: Hi guys, I’m alive and back! So here’s a new series (meaning requests are closed). This one is an original idea of mine, so this should be exciting. Anyhow, the regular rule stands at 100 notes for next parts. But my updates will be coming more slowly as I genuinely wanna develop this story so please be patient and I hope you enjoy. Lemme know if ya’ll enjoy, how it feels n what not. 

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

I M A G I N E 

Monday

“…So class, what could be a potential motif that is continuously being brought up in…” Tuning out…. Tuning out… Tuning out…

Click! Tuning out complete.

Sun poured itself into the left side of the classroom, it’s warmth licking all the students by the window (one being yourself). The professor with the typical monotonous voice pondered out loud to the minds who couldn’t shed a single drop of care. The fern chalkboard was ornate with several literature terms, part of an assignment that you didn’t bother to know just yet. Standard wooden desks with cheap metallic chairs were forced in rows, pure uncertainty in the germ quantity or the origin of zombie drawings scratched into the desks. 

On your desk resided your hands, clammy and still. Below your hands was a black, spiral notebook. To your right sat a mechanical pencil, red with size 0.5 lead. Next to that was a Bic pen you found in another classroom. Surely, it wasn’t yours, but you were too tempted to leave it alone. 

There it is again, you thought. Guitar boy is back. Every day in your English Literature class, there was this mysterious singer who sung nearby. He was never in sight from the classroom, impossible to find him even when you changed angles. As much as you wished to ignore it, it was impossible. 

After all, this voice picked on you every time. 

The same tune would be played, using the same chords every single week day. He has yet to make a mistake. It was an average 4-chord beat, who could mess that up? The voice type was a baritenor, the intriguing combination of tenor and baritone. He always sniffles right before beginning his tune. 

“Go to the pink tree, 

eat before three. 

Take my notes before the wind, 

don’t let my words go unpinned. 

Hung by a single thread,

don’t let my words go unread, 

Bic Pen Taker”

And there he goes. The guitar playing slowly fades away, all pairs of eyes still diverted to the front of the classroom. They had known this routine, too, and no longer thought anything of it. Even the teacher, Mr. Murphy, self-concluded that this was some sort of brief music session. It barely lasted a minute, and completely dissolved right after the tune. 

You paid no mind to it as well, refusing to interrupt your course of life. But, surely, your best friends wouldn’t dare let it leave your life. 

“‘Bic Pen Taker?’“ Savannah exclaimed, slamming her petite hand down onto the circular lunch table. She was a lovely thing when her mouth was shut. Perfect blonde locks danced down to the middle of her spine, loose curls at the end. She was very pale, very slim, and extremely preppy when it came to her clothing. Usually skirts and dresses with 3-inch heels to make her feel like an adult. “Y/N, you cannot ignore this!” 

“It really is big to pretend like it’s nothing,” Odessa, poking at the rim of her forest-green glasses. She was the loveliest shade of hot chocolate, her skin smooth and noticeable. Curvy one, she is, with braids that went down to her bum. Surely, your eyes diverted down to her curves, but what can you do? You concluded yourself to be a ‘bi-curious fuck’ when you first saw Halsey. Anyway, Odessa, or Des, was shorter than the rest of the group, but that just made her more endearing. 

“‘Eat before three?’ What’s that supposed to mean?” Alexis began, holding up a pink post-it note up to her face. Probably the cutest brunette, Lexi had freckles decorated all over her nose and cheeks. You were always tempted to take a Sharpie and create constellations. With a button nose and a kind smile, Alexis was definitely someone who stole peoples’ focus every time. 

“Don’t waste your time attempting to decipher it,” you groaned, resting your head in your arms as you looked down at the grey lunch table below you. It was cool, giving you a pleasant sensation. It was very in contrast from the muggy feeling provided by the crowded lunch room. “It’s a stupid song.” 

“It’s not stupid!” Savannah hissed, holding up her own post-it with the lyrics. “This is a secret admirer, Y/N! Straight-out-the-movies secret admirer!” 

“And I give a shit because?” You murmured, looking distantly at the entrance door where students pooled inside the room. Odessa shoved you playfully, sticking the note on the table before resting her elbows on the table. She hangs her head upon her fists, her cheeks pooling up her face as she studied the note. 

“Because he won’t stop pestering you indirectly until you do what he asks,” Alexis pipes. Shit. Good point. “It’ll never end if you keep putting it off.” 

“You’re right,” you respond calmly, closing your eyes to allow your weary body to refuel. Exhaustion always taunted you at school, but once you were home, some odd energy gets released and you’re wide awake until 2 in the morning. “Still don’t care enough.” 

“This has been going on since the beginning of the year, and it’s only been 2 months, Y/N,” Alexis points out, having you still shrug off her good points. 

“If we made sense of the song, you’d surely care then, wouldn’t you?” Odessa mumbled, turning over to you. You opened your eyes once more, slivers of your eyes being revealed to your friend group. They all stared with some odd frustration that you couldn’t really comprehend. 

“Ya’ll are acting like this song is complex,” you mumbled, having them stare back at their notes worth of the lyrics. You loved these girls dearly, but their brilliance put together and averaged out would be ‘meh.’ 

“So what does it mean?” Savannah hummed, tossing her post-it over to you. It hovered and indirectly glided to you, one of its corners hitting your elbow. Groggily, you forced yourself to sit up. You used one hand to weave your fingers into your hair to fix it up a bit. “The only part we got to is the ‘pink tree,’ which is that cherry tree in the courtyard.” 

“Oh wow, I’m so proud,” you sarcastically spewed, having Savannah roll her eyes as you picked up the thin sheet of paper. You held the paper, one hand holding it between your middle, index, and thumb as the other tapped at one of the pointy corners. “Yes, the ‘pink tree’ in this case would be the cherry tree that nobody gives a shit about.” 

“Why don’t people go there again?” Odessa asked, genuine wander sliding off her tongue. 

“Because it’s far as fuck,” Alexis breathed as the girls resumed to stare at you. The pairs of blue, brown, and green eyes frightened you as you kept yours diverted to the paper. 

“‘Eat before three...’ that’s probably another way of saying go there after lunch or before we get out of class,” you said with a shrug. It was your best guess, honestly. That line was just a bit tricky. “‘Take my notes before the wind, don’t let my words go unpinned.’“ 

“So you do care!” Savannah exclaimed, slamming her hands upon the table once more. Odessa’s milk carton jumped a bit as Alexis’ leaning position had been ruined by the sudden vibration. “You know the tune!” 

“That’s because it’s sung literally every day,” you groaned. “It was just like the ‘Call Me Maybe’ apocalypse where nobody could shut up about it.” Odessa snorted from your remark as you resumed with your analysis. “Anyways, that means that this kid would want me to go and read those notes and let them not be wasted.” 

“Cuuute,” Alexis moaned, having you shrug in complete oblivion to her definition of ‘cute.’ 

Sigh. “And then it’s ‘hung by a single thread,’ so string probably tied around a branch,” you said monotonously. “And again, he doesn’t want his words to be wasted so he wants me to read them. And then the ‘Bic Pen Taker,’ so obviously he knows that pen wasn’t mine.” 

“So he’s got his eye on ya,” Alexis teased, her smirk trying to indicate some sort of romantic reference. 

“More like he’s stalking me,” you groaned, tossing the paper back to Savannah as you rest your head once more into your arms. “No offense, but I don’t really like stalkers.” 

“He’s not stalking you,” Savannah tries to mellow the situation, but that definitely won’t do. Guitar dude is definitely stalking if he watched you while you were alone in a classroom stealing a pen. Creepy if you asked anybody. “He’s just interested but doesn’t know how to approach?” 

“Does that make him shy or what?” You mumbled, extremely bored with the conversation. 

“That makes you aloof,” Odessa brings up, having you frown at the chocolate girl beside you. 

“I’m not unfriendly,” you began with a touch of attitude. “I just don’t dedicate enough energy to make any more friends than I have to. If I don’t have to do it, I won’t.” 

“You’re colder than Antarctica, Y/N,” Alexis pouts, having you roll your eyes as you slowly closed them. You enjoyed napping, it was one of your favorite pastimes. It was overall easier, and required approximately no energy. But, as much as you wanted to sink into the bliss that is slumber, you were still in school with others far more... bombastic than yourself. 

“Oh shit, they’ve got pizza today!” Exclaimed the typically loud and annoying Michael Clifford. Eyebrow pierced, dyed blue hair, and immensely pale Michael had broken you from your attempts of a nap. You open your eyes in annoyance, seeing as the regular quad entered the cafeteria. 

Michael Clifford, the energy of the group. Calum Hood, Mr. I’m So Suave Because I Serenade Girls With My Guitar. And then Ashton Irwin, probably the friendliest person in heart and looks. Although they weren’t fawned over by all the girls like in the movies, they definitely weren’t ignored. Being the only legit band of the school, they were fairly known to get booked into the popular peoples’ parties and become the lives of the party. But it seems like they lacked something today. 

“Ash!” Alexis called the boys over, having you sink your head deeper into your arms until your nose touched the cold table. Fuck obligated interaction. It’s not that you hate people or anything. You just don’t want to spend so much energy on them. Odessa rubbed your back as you groaned quietly. 

“Hey Alex,” Ashton came, greeting her with his usual kind voice and lovely eyes. You tilted your head slightly to see, seeing one simple pleasure that was Ashton’s dimples when he smiled. “Savannah, Des. Hey, Y/N.” Of course he says your name in a separate sentence.

“Hey boys,” Savannah said, seeing as she smiled when Michael came over. It was rather strange with these 6. It was immensely obvious that Lex liked Ash, Sav liked Mike, and Des liked Cal. And vice versa, of course. But it’s the usual yucky high school love story where they all have to face complications before their happy ever after. Also, you hated the last member of the boys’ group. 

He was energy consuming, for sure. 

“Ladies,” Calum cooed, revealing a cheeky smile as Des leaned her cheek against her fist to ogle the Maori boy before her. You looked away, snapping your neck to face the other way to not see this gross love connections these 6 were having. You looked distantly through the cloudy windows, seeing the other students outside at the courtyard where more tables resided. You subconscious tried to find the cherry tree, but it was immensely far and there were too many oak trees in the way. 

“When do you wanna work on our English project, Lex?” Ashton asked, having those two discuss about whatever the hell project they’re doing. You could hear the other four discuss about some performance they’re having at some venue that you couldn’t even care less about. Along with their conversation, several others came into play as extremely loud background sound. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Michael called your name, having you sigh before sitting up and turning back to the rest of the group. All pairs of eyes were now on you, having you blink twice before staring up at the pale boy. “What’re you doing here?” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, pure confusion erupting in your mind. “I’m in school, trying to enjoy my lunch break.” Calum was quick to go and give Michael a slap behind his head, having him rub it while glaring at Calum. 

“He’s being stupid, as usual,” Calum suggested, having you barely smirk as Michael hissed at the Maori boy. “He just means that we always see you asleep or being lazy when you’re in school, so it’s odd to see you here.” 

“It’s not that I’m lazy,” you began with a shrug. You rubbed under your eye, cautious not to ruin the light makeup on your eyelids. “I just conserve my energy is all. Speaking of which, where’s the other one?” 

“Oh, you mean Luke?” Ashton asked, having you nod in confirmation. The other girls looked at him as well, just as curious about the missing blonde. “Lunch detention.” 

“What did cool boy Luke Hemmings do this time?” Savannah giggled, mocking the position that boy somehow held. But, of course he held the cool boy title. Blonde, blue eyes, devilishly handsome and lead singer of his band. Can we get any more cliche than this? 

“He drew a dick on the chalkboard over there for Ms. Lee’s class,” Calum said quickly, having you analyze his face as he spoke. Such a quick response. “Since it’s anatomy anyways, he claimed it’s for ‘educational purposes.’” 

“I see.” The conversation derailed quickly to the boy’s performance coming up this weekend. 

“Here’s the invites,” Michael began, smiling contently as he handed out the small flyers. There was a coffee stain in the right hand corner of each, having you roll your eyes at the boy. “All the info you might ask for is on there, trust me.” Savannah giggled, the two locking eyes quickly. 

“Oi, what are those notes you got there?” Calum began, pointing at the girls holding the lyrics in their spare hands. They were quick to press it against their chests with their faces losing it’s calm color. 

“Nothing,” you spoke for all 3, having the boys look strangely at all of you before headed off for their food. As they did, a few girls walked up to them and joined their stroll over for the pizza Michael long desires. Once they were no long in sight, the girls sighed in relief and put the notes back down. 

“That... was close,” Savannah said calmly. 

“Why the hell are you hiding them?” You asked all the girls. “Wouldn’t you think that they could help us decipher it? Being musicians and shit.” 

“Nah, we’re doing this ourselves,” Des began with a wide smile. “I want us to solve it. I’m trying to be an accomplished bitch, you know.” 

“Mm, I see,” you hummed before residing your head in your arms again. “Still not gonna go.” 

“Then I’ll go!” Des offered. “I have a free period after lunch so I can definitely check it out and share the note with ya’ll.” The other girls nodded in excitement, having you shrug simply at her choice. The girls had a few more discussions with you attentively listening, wasting the minutes before lunch had sadly reached an end. 

“...Okay class, take your seats, please.” Ms. Lee’s voice struggled over the sound of the students shuffling and finding their seats. You were always the first one in the room, already seated with your required materials out. You picked at your nails, enjoying the brief moment of being alone at your seat before the annoyance came. 

“I’m here, Ms. Lee!” And there is the nuisance. 

Luke Hemmings announced his arrival, stirring the class with laughter as he grinned giddily at your teacher. She kept her face stern, amused by his stupidity. He was leaning against the door frame, one arm straight up and holding the frame with the other resting on his hip. He stood with one leg, the other bent slightly in front of it. The usual skinny black jeans, a Nirvana shirt, and completely black converse, Luke looked of a punkrock try hard. 

“I see,” Ms. Lee murmured, agitation evident on her face as Luke strutted over to the seat beside yours. You clapped your hands together, shutting your eyes to pray briefly as the blonde boy adjusted himself on the wooden stool. You then began to wonder why the teacher hadn’t used his lunch detention as leverage for a clever remark. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Luke greeted, having you look over to see both hands weaved and under his chin as he stared at you. As annoyed as you got from seeing his face, you couldn’t help but adore his eyes. They were this ocean color, the one where the sky is perfectly blue and the sun was licking the beach. 

“Luke.” You turned away, no longer bothering to stare as you prepared for the lecture that proceeded. Luke always sighed in disappointment, always having you glance to see his eyes dim. You didn’t understand why, seeing as you two hardly knew each other and you had incredible doubt that Luke actually gave a shit about you. 

After the lecture, Ms. Lee had begun to pass out the tests. The assignment was already up and ready, having you the only student to jot suffice notes and begin a sketch of what you were to do. As you doodled, you notice Ms. Lee place Luke’s graded test. He grabbed it, holding it up as he smirked. 

“Yikes,” he uttered, having you shake your head at how careless he was. A 62 percent. That’s one of many reasons that you found Luke so infuriating. He didn’t care a single cent about his grades, taking them as a joke almost all the time. “Looky!” He turned around and showed it to the students behind you two, having them laugh with him as he passed it around. 

“You’re such a dope, Luke!” One of his friends said with a chuckle, having Luke laugh even more. Others laughed at him, fueling his idiotic antics and ways. Even though you didn’t care at all for Luke, you suddenly found yourself annoyed at his carelessness. 

“Luke, cut it out,” you said simply, having his group of friends silence themselves as he turned over to you. You felt his eyes, refusing to lock yours with them as you continued your sketch. “You need this class-- quit being such a dolt.” 

“Woah,” Luke said with awe, having goosebumps rise on your arms from his breathless word. You didn’t know what to think, with the way his clean, hoarse voice uttered the word in pure disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d care about it, Y/N, let alone anything I do.” 

“Correction: I don’t care,” you pointed, getting over your momentary mental ogle from his voice. “I just don’t want you expressing your stupidity around me.” Luke blinked, having you indirectly stare as he leaned closer to you. You leaned away, somewhat revolted by his antics. “What?” 

“I have an idea,” Luke began, having you already try to tune him out. “How about the 3.8-GPA student tutor me about anatomy?” 

“No,” you immediately shot him down. 

“C’mon now!” Luke kept trying, leaning closer to you as you found yourself flustered from his sudden closeness. “We can get real in-depth about the body... talking intimately about my anatomy and--” 

Suddenly, the dismissal bell rang. 

“In your damn dreams, Hemmings,” you announced, slamming your notebook close as you poured your items into your backpack and fled the room. Luke was wise not to call you back or chase you, having relief wash over you as you exit the school. 

You managed to catch up with Savannah and Alexis, listening to their heavy projects and paper homework. And you agreed: homework is a serious no-no. But how else could you retain your intelligence? It was the only thing you actually put energy into anyways. 

“Sav, Alex, Y/N!” Suddenly, Des’s voice called to all of you, having you halt and turn around to see the girl hurry to you guys. Cliques all around walked past as Des stopped running and gave herself a moment to breathe. “Goddamn... ya’ll walk damn fast, Jesus...” She panted, standing up straight with her chest heaving. 

“You alright?” Alexis asked, concern painting all of your faces as you stared at the short girl. Des nodded, waving it off as she adjusted her bookbag. “What is it? Everything okay?” 

“No...” She said breathlessly. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” Savannah allowed pure concern to roll off her tongue as you three stared at Des’s surprised face. She then turned to you, having you blink a few times until you listened to the words that left her plump lips. 

“I went to the tree,” Des said simply, weaving her fingers together, somewhat nervously. “But the notes weren’t there.” 

aha please do lemme know whatcha think right here, thank you x

[prongsisabadger]

TWP: Chapter 18

"Patch me up quick and give me a shot of something strong. We haven't finished here." I said as the Pack secured the area around us. "Take Headfirst to the triage, and come back. I have a feeling this will get even uglier before it gets any better."

I felt their unease, and I understood why. Both my ears were bleeding and I had a pretty nasty burn on my shoulder. But none of that mattered right now. I was still able bodied, and other than discomfort and a little pain, there wasn't much that would hinder me. Had it been more serious, the Medic would have taken over and ordered me back to the medical triage. But it hadn't, and we still had an objective to achieve.

"I swear Ma'am, you Jedi are made of tough stuff." He said as he gave me a bacta shot on the neck. "But please be careful, if given the opportunity, things often get worse."

I turned to my left to smile at him. I couldn't see his face because of the helmet but it was pretty clear to me that he was genuinely worried.

"Don't worry about me, trooper," I said as I stood up slowly. "It takes more than a little fire to take me down."

The battle lasted another twelve hours, to our dismay. But at least we managed to take out every single droid in a 50 clik radius. We were all worned out and exhaustion was starting to settle in, but we managed to set up camp, make a headcount, and secure the perimeter before dusk. Wolffe was waiting for me in the command centre when I walked in. I had been monitoring and helping the troops set up tents and checking the perimeter when the squad assigned finished booby trapping the thing. The Clone commander looked tired, very tired, like he was running on whatever adrenaline he had left and three big cups of kaff.

"You took an unnecessary risk today, Commander." He said without lifting his face from the holomap displayed on the table. "That explosion could have done a lot more damage."

I sighed and took the mug from his hands before taking a big gulp. "A risk that had to be taken, Wolffe." I answered before giving him back the mug.

"There are very few Jedi, and each of you packs the strength of a hundred troopers. We cannot afford to lose any of you." He said finally looking at me. "Us clones were engineered to be soldiers, to die for the Republic. You are keepers of pea-"

"My life is not worth more than that of any clone, Wolffe. I already told you that." He sighed, frustrated, exasperated, but not angry, not really. "Get some rest, I mean it. You look like you are going to drop unconscious any minute now."

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. He had taken over the entire operation once I went down. He hadn't seen or heard anything from me until after everything had been over. I could feel just how worried he had been, how frantic, stressed and scared he'd been. We had lost men that day - almost a dozen-, we had fought as hard as we could and even if we had won, the stress on the body and minds of each of us had taken quite a beating the past three days.

"You are the one who got injured," He said, turning to look at me. His eyes said it all: He was hanging from a thread. "I'll cover the first shift."

I smiled at him sadly before putting one hand to his temple and using the force to knock him unconscious. I grabbed him before he fell to the floor and carried him to a cot to the side of the tent. Stubborn as only clones could be. I took the half finished mug of koff and started writing my report. It would be a long night.

…

When Master Plo declared the planet taken, the extractions started. We moved the injured first along with the supplies and gear. We were all glad to get off this Force forsaken rock and go back to Coruscant for some well deserved time off. But we all knew it wouldn't last long. The war was escalating every day and the GAR's forces were beginning to stretch themselves thin. We would get a week or two tops.

I watched as four troopers loaded the tactical table onto the gunner to be shipped up to the carrier. The command centre was always dismantled last. All around me, members of the 104th waited for orders in little groups, chatting and joking with one another. They are safe now, at least until our next deployment.

"Thank the maker, we have a long trip ahead of us and a few weeks of leave. I don't think I could have finished that tattoo of yours otherwise." Said Art behind me before patting my left shoulder carefully. My armour had taken the brunt of the explosion and had been all but ruined after that, so the troopers had made a point not to be too rough in their interactions in case my back was still tender. Word had spread pretty fast that the Jedi Commander had basically turned herself into a meat shield to save one trooper. None of them said it, but I could feel the shift in their regard for me. Respect felt nice.

Oh, you'll have plenty of time to work on it," I said remembering the conversation I'd had with Master Plo that morning. "I'll be staying in my quarters aboard the cruiser. The Temple's being flooded with younglings whose parents want to keep them away from the war, so I don't have a place there anymore."

Something in Art's demeanor changed, he seemed pleased with the Idea.

"Brilliant! Then maybe we can introduce you to some fun past times we clones have, aye, Commander?" He said winking. "I bet you suck at karaoke."

…

I had expected the dreams. I had known my mental health would take a beating the minute I stepped on the battlefield that first day on Geognosis. I thought I'd been prepared. I was wrong. The thing about the Force is that it's very hard to describe to those who are not sensitive to it. The Force allows us Jedi to feel other being's feelings, but also their physical responses to pleasure and pain. The sinking of the gut when you receive bad news, the squeeze of the heart when you feel deeply for someone, the pain of seeing someone die before your eyes. And the fear, don't get me started on the fear. Now imagine feeling all of these things for yourself and for the other thousand life forms around you, fighting to live another day.

My nightmares were not just a reflection of my fear and my pain and my sorrow. It was a reflection of everything I'd felt the clones go through on the battlefield. Many had seen their brothers die before their eyes, others had held them while the only family they had took their last breaths before joining the Force. The thing is, when you don't know or don't believe death is not really the end, then it can be very daunting, very scary, life suddenly is full of uncertainty.

I had yet to find a way to deal with my emotions in a healthy way, the fact that I had to deal with the weight of others' as well made everything a lot harder. Master Plo would tell me to reach out into the Force and let it guide me. He would tell me to Meditate on it, to sit with my feelings and really understand them, acknowledge them, accept them and release them. It was easier said than done, as most things in life. Healing trauma is and has always been hard. The entire process can be just as painful as experiencing a traumatic event itself. Healing trauma is most certainly not for the faint of heart. Only truly strong people are willing to face their worst fears, and at the time -with everything that was going around- it was very hard to be strong, to be brave.

The first few days off duty were the roughest. Every time someone would walk past my door, I'd wake up with a starta and with my lightsaber on hand. I slept little, rested even less. Nights were filled with blaster fire, explosions and death. Every once in a while my nightmares would end with a droid standing over me, a blaster aimed at my head. But the worst ones were when Master Plo got shot down, or Wolffe, or Art - even Headfirst got blown up by a bomb once because I couldn't run fast enough. I went out only to eat at the mess hall. Sometimes one of the boys would ask if I wanted to join them for some activity or other, but in the state that I was in, I didn't want to ruin the fun for them. I tried to meditate, to keep my emotions in check and under control. It only took a week for one of my nightmares to break me. The CIS' army had taken all of my platoon hostage, and were executing them one by one like cattle in a slaughterhouse. I spent the rest of the night sitting cross legged on the floor outside the door to the clone's sleeping quarters, lightsaber on my lap. Twitch found me right before dawn when he was heading out for first watch at the bridge, and naturally, he reported it to both Wolffe and Master Plo.

I was put under observation, they didn't call it that, but I was to have at least one trooper with me at all times. I was given a new schedule I was to follow, which included compulsory recreational time and workout. It was a strategy clone troopers used when someone was having a hard time dealing with PTSD regardless of their training. By having someone with them at all times, triggers could be identified more easily, by having a fixed schedule they made sure to establish a sense of control and safety as well as making sure the person did not neglect their physical health.

Master Plo pulled me aside so we could speak about the issue, but we came to the conclusion that, other than making sure I didn't neglect my physical health and working on myself during the time I had on my own, there wasn't much we could do other than wait. I was already meditating and connecting with the force every chance I got, every night before sleep and after waking up from a nightmare. I would have to learn to cope on my own, because no one could give me a path that was mine to find.

It was humiliating and demoralizing to the troops -or so I thought-, after all, who wants a CO who can't keep their shit together? I was wasting everyone's time. The troopers either didn't care much or did a very good job at hiding it. Those who had been assigned to watch me were good natured and approached the issue as if it was just another part of their duty. What I didn't know at the time was that it was -in fact- just another part of their job. Clones were not just trained to be soldiers, but medics, enegeneers, techs and yes, even therapists. They understood they were probably the only ones in the galaxy who had such extensive training, and didn't mind putting their skills to good use -that was what they had been created for after all.

But it worked, some would say it worked a little too well. I did start to sleep better, I started trusting the clones to be able to fend for themselves, and to seek help if they needed it. I learned how they operated behind closed doors, when it was friday night and they went out for drinks. I realized they were human individuals who knew the price soldiers paid for surviving. They would never judge me or anyone else, they would even offer their help wholeheartedly because they knew. They knew. And they opened their world to me because we were Pack, and we protected each other. Some would say it worked too well, because being made to feel safe around others is trusting them, it is them trusting you, it is forming bonds, it is forming attachments.