#and how realising that can undo all those years it took learning to trust again!!

[whumps-and-bumps]

What about Caretakers who, despite their best intentions, are also Whumpers?

Maybe Whumpee has a condition/is non-human and afraid of hurting people. Maybe it’s something they can’t control. Carewhumper loves them anyway, wants to help them, wants to keep them safe, so they take to restraining Whumpee every night. When it gets bad, they slip a sedative into their water and install locks on every door. This becomes their new normal.

Somehow, when Whumpee meets a new Caretaker, they expect the same routine. They remind Caretaker to tie them down before bed, and then confused by the devastation on Caretaker’s face, until it clicks.

They were never dangerous. Not really.

[kentochronicles]

***SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 5 OF WANDAVISION***

HOLY SHITE MY MIND IS BLOWN

TOMMY AND BILLY CRYING

“Do you want me to take that again?” “Take it from the top?”

Agnes knows ! Tiger - Ralph

“Dark liquor” Vision being concerned

Billy and Tommy aged up?!

I DO NOT TRUST HAYWARD

SCARLET WITCH - TALKING ABOUT HOW WANDA DOESN’T HAVE A CODENAME

SIS STRAIGHT UP TOOK VISIONS CORPSE

HEX — HER POWERS GET REFERRED TO AS HEX POWERS SOMETIMES IN THE COMICS

CAPTAIN MARVEL REFERENCE

NORM SAYING NONE OF IT IS REAL

SPARKY THE DOG - VISION HAD A STAND ALONE AND STOLE A DOG

HER ACCENT

LAGOS

SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW ANY OF THIS STARTED IN THE FIRST PLACE

EVAN PETERS AS QUICKSILVER

DARCY GOING “SHE RECAST PIETRO?” MOOOD

X-MEN, START TO THE MULTIVERSE?!

WANDA CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE CONTROLLING IT

IS MONICA MAD AT CAROL???

MONICA X DARCY?! WHAT A POWER COUPLE THAT WOULD BE

SIS REALLY ENDGAME - ENDGAME ENDED WITH TONY’S FUNERAL AND WANDA PROBS WENT STRAIGHT FROM THERE AND STOLE HER DEAD BF’S CORPSE (can’t really blame her, it looked like they were trying to experiment on Vis and could it be Hayward behind it?)

WHO WAS THAT ENGINEER THAT MONICA WAS GOING TO CONTACT?

BABY VISION

AND AGNES DEFINITELY KNOWS SOMETHING

DARCY FINALLY GOT HER COFFEE

SO VIS SAID THAT WANDA COULD’VE MADE EVERYTHING SUBCONSCIOUSLY AND THAT OVER TIME SHE BECAME AWARE OF IT, AND SIS DEFO HAS SOME CONTROL BUT IT’S NOT ALL HER. I THINK AGNES IS AGATHA HARKNESS AND EITHER MEPHISTO IS BEHIND IT OR IT’S NIGHTMARE AND THEY’VE MAYBE POWERED UP NIGHTMARE

***FURTHER UPDATES AND EASTER EGGS***

Auntie Agnes and Agnes saying she has a few tricks up her sleeve - we should definitely take note of that seeing as Agnes definitely has something to do with the whole situation

Wanda and Vision’s house changed again, being inspired by Family Ties, possibly Full House and Growing Pains

“Do you want me to take it from the top?” It seems as though when someone, this time Vision, steers away from the script, things either reset themselves or people become aware to some capacity, although Agnes probably already knows

Speaking of Growing Pains - It had a spin off called “Just the 10 of Us” in which the director for Wandavision, Matt Shakman, was apart of the cast - and seemingly also inspired the theme song for this week

We should definitely keep an eye on Monica and her potential for powers. With Maria last episode revealed to have gone by the name ‘Photon’ (which is a name that Monica uses as one of her aliases in the comics) and could inspire Monica’s name as she develops her powers - those scans didn’t look 100% normal. Monica has also used the Captain Marvel monicker in the comics

Wanda’s energy field and such being referred to as “Hex” short for Hexagon, could be a little nod to the comics where Wanda’s powers are sometimes called Hex powers

She’s never been referred to as the Scarlet Witch on the big screen - and it seems as though she soon may earn that code name

So we now know that Wanda stole Vision’s corpse from S.W.O.R.D, but did she actually re animate him fully? He’s still got the gem in the centre of his forehead, but the last time he had it was in Infinity War where it promptly got ripped out by Thanos - so has Wanda found her own way of reanimating him and he’s alive or is he dead and just a trick of the mind - though from other trailers/previews, Vis is seen trying to and looks successful at leaving Wanda’s barrier

They had a little call back to Captain America: Civil War with the Sokovia Accords, which were targeting the Avengers in general but were created when Wanda lost control of her powers and killed civilians

A little joke towards Vis as playing “Father Knows Best” in their little suburbia - Which was a sitcom that ran for 200 episodes in the 50’s

Sparky ! A little nod to the little green dog from the Walta and King comics run for Vision and unfortunately soon meets the same fate 💔

A little nod to Endgame when we hear from Monica that Wanda definitely could’ve taken down Thanos by herself had Thanos not rained fire - and Jimmy arguing that Captain Marvel could’ve just as easily done it - which leaves Monica with an angry look on her face

Good ol’ dial up internet

Can Vis “save” the residents of Westview? He can still seemingly interact with people’s minds, with or without the mind stone - Norm soon comes out of his trance as Vis snaps him out of it and asks to call his sister and that he has to save them all from “her” - now this “her” could be Wanda...but it could also be Agnes and then Vis shuts him down soon enough again and Norm goes back to his sit com self

Billy and Tommy are fully aware, or at least suspect Wanda’s abilities - after asking her to bring back Sparky from the dead and speaking of Billy and Tommy - could they be semi permanent fixtures in the MCU, it would help to introduce the Young Avengers eventually. They'll do Young Avengers at some point since Kang is supposed to be a thing in the third Ant-Man.

Teddy, unfortunately, I don't think will be here for a bit (I really hope he is though!). I think the guy they hired that everyone is rumoring to be Teddy might just be an episode about Billy coming to terms with his sexuality and Wanda and Vis learning to accept it in the way that era of tv they're in would go about with that kind of episode and the dude is just a dude - but again, I really hope it’s Teddy 😭

Wanda leaves the hex after a mini missile/plane tries to shoot at her - and she’s in her Scarlet Witch costume and is seemingly mostly back to her “normal self”, which includes her accent !

Lagos brand paper towels - “For when you make a mess you didn’t mean to” - a nod to Civil War again in which Wanda accidentally blew up a building in Lagos and caused the Sokovian accords to come to fruition

The mail man again - I also think he was in the commercial but anywho - “Your mom won’t let him go far” similar to “Much like she won’t let anyone leave” a potential nod to Wanda or Agnes not letting anyone leave?

“We can’t reverse death” and yet she brought Vision back - keeping in mind that he’s an android but still a little foreshadow to what happened at the end of the ep? Better yet, could Pietro coming back be a distraction for Wanda? Agnes or whoever introducing someone that Wanda lives in hopes that she won’t go full on breakdown superpowers or just to give her an attachment to Westview even more and make her not want to leave at all

“She recasted Pietro” EVAN ! I’m so pumped for this - it seems this could turn into the X-Men making their debut earlier than expected possibly? In any case, it’s a nice little Easter Egg to the previous Fox franchise of X-Men movies where Evan played Peter Maximoff “Quicksilver” alongside James McAvoy as Prof X, Hugh Jackman as Wolverine and so many others - and with Deadpool being confirmed as Disney’s first R rated film, it seems Mutants are definitely on their way to the MCU

Agnes is definitely Agatha or a gender bent Nightmare

The way Billy shed himself and Tommy up was scary - definitely a little nod to his powers coming in

Multiple different perspectives of Wanda saying that Monica left

Red Hex dialled up to around light sources (computer, window, etc.)

Vision mentions reading Charles Darwin’s The Descent of Man - which could refer to Mutants entering the MCU, Mutants being superior to humans

Agnes calls herself Auntie Agnes - in episode 2 during the title sequence in the grocery store there’s a product called ‘Auntie A’s Kitty Litter’

Agnes refers to herself as a Tiger and in the episode, there’s a Tiger on the dining table in the kitchen - could that be a listening device, her eyes and ears?

There are no other children in Westview - Billy and Tommy are immune because they have no prior trauma

Elizabeth Olsen’s photos are real and slightly altered with Sokovian flags in the background

In the birthday shot of Billy and Tommy, they have ‘1,2,3,4,5’ candles all on one cake

In the holiday photos, Vision goes from Turkey to Easter Bunny, to Santa and progressively gets more unhappy - realising he no longer wants to play along in Wanda’s Hex

During Monica’s callbacks to seeing Wanda’s pain inside her head, we see a new shot of Wanda crying - it looks like it’s around the time she stole Vision’s corpse, as the outfit she’s wearing is very similar, if not the same - could this be an after shot of when she’s trying to bring Vision back?

During the scene where we see the footage of Wanda stealing Vision’s corpse, the S.W.O.R.D logo that appears on the table has 8 stars around the rim of the logo but then has a 9th one in the middle - could this be a little Easter Egg to the nine realms of the Cosmos? And there’s also a map showing Cape Canaveral, could that be where S.W.O.R.D’s headquarters are?

Wanda and Pietro were born in 1989 to Irina and Oleg Maximoff - who were killed in an air raid when the twins were 10. In the comics, Wanda and Pietro were raised by Django and Maria Maximoff, before their true parentage was revealed as being the children of Magneto, however, in the comics this has been retconned so that Wanda and Pietro are no longer Mutants and the High Evolutionary had just disguised them as Mutants (something I think they should undo tbh - MARVEL, PLEASE MAKE WANDA AND PIETRO MUTANTS AGAIN!!!)

Speaking of the air raid, that was also referenced in Age of Ultron by Pietro and Wanda - “We were 10 years old, having dinner the four of us. And the first shell hits 2 floors below, makes a hole in the floor” - was the beeping Stark toaster be what that was referring to?

WHIH reappears for a brief cameo as the news service in the MCU - and Hayward cuts off Jimmy as he was trying to defend Wanda’s reputation, in which Jimmy then turns to Darcy and says “I try not to speak ill of people” Darcy then follows up with “Then allow me, Hayward’s a-“ and then she’s cut off by a shot back to Hayward saying the word “Terrorist” which would make sense as it seems with Vision’s corpse, he may have been trying to make sentient weapons and by subverting Vision’s will and blaming Wanda of doing the same. In the footage shown of Wanda stealing Vision’s remains, we see Vision broken up into parts and S.W.O.R.D seems to be experimenting on him and this seems to be the robotics/nanotech project that Hayward was referring to. Monica asks Hayward about the footage saying “When was this?” to which Hayward replies saying “9 days ago. Maximoff stormed our facility, stole Vision’s body and resurrected him” - this would mean that Wanda took Vision 2 weeks after the events of Endgame, about a week before Monica returned to S.W.O.R.D and Hayward didn’t tell her any of this and when he sent her in there, he knew exactly what he was doing - with her reputation after Civil War, this makes it easier for Hayward to paint her as the villain.

Back in Westview, Tommy wears red and Billy wears green - which are the colours that Wiccan and Speed wear in the comics, respectively. And it’s also the colours that Wanda and Vision are known for and appears quite a lot in their wardrobes

More in regards to Sparky, he was the synthezoid dog in Tom King’s run of Vision - the story being that he was originally a dog named Zeke who unfortunately passed away after digging up the Grim Reaper’s corpse and getting zapped. The Grim Reaper’s helmet appears during the title sequence of Episode 2 in the floorboards. Could Sparky have been trying to dig up a similar thing when he was caught by Agnes and consequently killed?

Monica mentions that she knows this aerospace engineer, they’re never shown but she is seen texting them. Could it be Reed Richards a.k.a Mr Fantastic? Hayward did mention that some astronauts used to work for S.W.O.R.D before a mission went haywire - though it seems a bit lacklustre to introduce such highly anticipated characters this way. Could it instead be the Skrull daughter of Talos that Monica befriended at the end of Captain Marvel? She mentioned that they had extraterrestrial allies in episode 4 working with her and Fury as apart of S.W.O.R.D - in the Spanish subtitles they use the feminine articles for this engineer - so I think it’s more likely to be Talos’s daughter

The board that we saw in Episode 4 now includes the mailman, drivers license and all - could he be Jimmy’s missing witness?

The tension in the room after Jimmy references Carol is similarly seen when in Spider-Man: Far From Home, where Peter asks Skrull Fury/Talos “How about Captain Marvel?” To which Talos replies “Don’t involve her name”. Fury, Monica and Talos were all on the side of the Skrulls by then end of Captain Marvel and the space station that Fury was on maybe apart of S.W.O.R.D. So did Carol betray them?

A slight reference to Captain America: The First Avenger is made when Monica pulls a Peggy Carter and shoots at something to see if it’s bulletproof, in Peggy’s case it was the iconic Captain America shield and in the case of Monica, it was her clothes that she was wearing after Wanda threw her out of the Hex

Abilash (Norm) never states that Wanda is the one that Vision has to save them from, it’s just “her” - could this instead be Agnes?

When Billy is training Sparky to sit, he puts the treat by his ear up to his temple - a future reference that Billy will one day share the same powers as his mum?

During the scene in which Wanda leaves the Hex briefly, she turns the guns onto Hayward but none are trained on Monica - she may still trust Monica slightly, whereas with Hayward, she slightly more pissed off because of what he was doing to Vision’s remains. And turning a bunch of guns on the people you don’t trust? Like father, like daughter as Magneto pulls a similar move in one of the X-Men films - Hopefully, the big cameo they keep teasing will be Ian McKellan as Magneto or the Magnus of this House of M adaptation

During when Agnes “found” Sparky, she says he died from eating too many leaves from her plants - in the Tom King Vision run, one of Vision’s kids ends up killing Sparky and sees inside his stomach that there’s a plant that Agatha Harkness grows in her garden

All the names that appear during the credits that Wanda tries to run to end the show and to stop Vision from talking are names of people who work on the actual Wandavision show itself

When Evan Peter’s version of Quicksilver shows up, he says “Does a long lost bro get to squeeze his sister to death or what?” I DO NOT TRUST THIS PIETRO - Similar to Wandavision, the Fox X-Men movies moved up decade by decade - First Class was in the 1960s, Days of Future Past was in the 1970s, Apocalypse was in the 1980s and Dark Phoenix was in the 1990’s - which would make even more sense as MCU! Pietro wasn’t born until 1989, whereas Peter was active during the 1980s. I reckon that this Pietro is Jimmy’s missing witness, Agnes’s husband Ralph and is disguising itself as a comforting presence to Wanda as Vision no longer brings comfort and is trying to bring Wanda back to reality - and when he shows up, the mirror in the background behind Wanda is slightly distorted but his hand looks red and in the shot as well, there seems to be a grey arm reaching towards Pietro - in the shot itself behind and in front of Wanda, there’s nothing there but in the mirror, there is! Either way, I do not trust this Pietro and it’s just an entity trying to give Wanda the last thing that could make her happy - but it won’t last, as everything is already breaking down around her.

I seriously seriously love this show so much 💙

[ladyeliot]

PS I LOVE YOU

This One-shot is for @mostly-marvel-musings’s “600 follower challenge.” Thank you for doing this! 

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Tony's death he decides to create a "plan" to say goodbye to you.

Warnings: Fluff and Extremely Sad.

Word count: 2593

A/N: I cried a little bit writing it. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

This is perhaps the saddest, as well as the most romantic, story you will ever read. Yours. The fantastic, like the quotidian, was in your day to day life. You made the most important decision of your life, to give your heart to the one you loved, even though you knew there would come a day when he would break it. Tony Stark was not an ordinary man, in any sense, but he was the man you wanted to share your life with, the man who drove you crazy in every way, but also the man who made you smile every morning when you woke up next to him.

Like other married couples you had your ups and downs, his work at Stark Industries took up a lot of his time, but what really bothered you was his second job as Iron Man. Every time he put on that suit, your heart would crack, and it wasn't until he returned to your side that it would be forged again. Fear took over as the years went by, but all you could do was support him 100%, because it was his choice.

After the snap, you realised the opportunity that had presented in front of you, an opportunity among millions that the vast majority did not have, you were together, to move on and to have a new beginning. But still a wide guilt rolled around you, “why us?” The years passed and though you chose to drastically change your life, to move away from the big city and find a nest of love and peace, you knew that Tony's mind was still working, searching for an answer and a solution, realising it when the group of avengers came to ask for his help.

A considerable period of time has passed since all these events, but you know that it was this that triggered you to find yourself standing in front of the lake with one of Tony's closest friends right now.

"Before he left for his mission," Happy began, "he asked me to give this to you if anything happened to him.

You wiped away a tear that slid down your left cheek before you looked at him. Tony had made his choice and you supported him all the way, but you never believed that the pain could consume you like that. You focused your gaze on a small device Happy held in his hands, it was tiny, metal and had a small button. 

"What is it?" you asked, taking it between your fingers.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea Y/N."

You took a deep breath and pressed the button lightly. Instantly a hologram of Tony appeared before the two of you. You almost lost your balance in surprise, you didn't expect to find him in front of your eyes, sitting in a chair, in his Tom Ford suit.

"Hi honey!" said little hologram Tony waving his hand. "I hope you're not watching this, but in case you are, that means Happy has delivered it to you and I'm not with you right now."

You put a hand to your face trying to hide the pain you were feeling as you listened to him speak again. Little Tony was also silent for a moment.

"Anyway," he got up from the armchair he was sitting in. "I have a plan! I couldn't leave for the mission without saying goodbye to you, well in fact I just did and quite well, right now you're in the bedroom trying to pull yourself together— " Tony flashed a half smile and shook his head.

You couldn't help but smile at those words.

"Well, on to what we're going.Honey, I hope this doesn't get into your hands, but if it does, I have a thousand things to tell you and it's impossible for me to do it right now. I was hoping to have enough time to tell you for the rest of our lives, but it's not going to be possible," he sat back down and clasped his hands together. "Listen, ever since the guys came to pay me that visit and we realised we could turn things around, I couldn't get the idea out of my head that something might go wrong with the mission, and you know how I am when I get an idea in my head."  Tony laughed and it brought a smile to your face.  Tony laughed and it brought a smile to your face. "I've been planning this ever since, I've thought about all the things I'd want to tell you that I haven't told you and all those special dates I'd love to spend with you that I won't be able to. So I have a plan! And I need you, honey, to help me," the little hologram got up from the couch again and put his hands in his pocket and approached the camera. "First of all I need you to wipe the tears off your face and show that beautiful smile to the world, and Happy too, but except for the smile thing," you both let out a small laugh between tears. "Secondly, I hope you're wearing that black dress I like so much, the one with the back slit, you know," you rolled your eyes and nodded, you were wearing it."And thirdly, I wish I didn't have to ask you this, but I need you to go to the lab, in the safe you'll find a letter, it's the first of several that will be coming to you."  Tony lowered his gaze. "I can't tell you when you'll get more, but I promise they'll arrive when you least expect them.By the way, the password you already know what it is, on our wedding day— " 

In the background, your voice could be heard, urging Tony to return to the room.  

"I'm coming honey!" after he responds he turned his attention back to the camera. "Sorry, my beautiful wife claims me," you smiled and sighed approaching the camera, meeting Tony's face in its fullness. "Honey, you know you're my only weakness. I love you."

Just as he had appeared the hologram disappeared and a void formed again in your heart. You took a deep breath trying to undo the lump in your throat and taking in every word he had said. You looked at Happy who looked as puzzled as you were.

"Did you know about this?" you asked with mixed feelings.

"I promise I didn't," Happy held up his hands in innocence. 

You quickly walked away from the lake and headed towards your cabin, people had left a couple of hours ago, but Happy had chosen to stay with you. You opened the door quickly, followed by your friend and you both walked down to Tony's lab. His things were just as he had left them a couple of weeks ago, as no one had gone in there. You made your way to the safe, hidden behind one of the works of art, and entered the password.

Just as Tony had said, there it was, a white envelope with your name on it, next to a set of clothes, waiting for you to take it in your hands and open it.  Before you did so, you looked at Happy who seemed to be anxious to discover the contents as well. You didn't know what Tony's "Plan" was, nor if it would be beneficial or painful for you, but that mattered little at that moment, because all you needed was to see him, to hear him, or in this case to read what he had written.

You opened the envelope and read it:

"Hello honey, 

I guess if you are reading this envelope you will have seen the holography and I guess it is the "day", so I have a surprise prepared for you, read carefully. What I need you to do is to get everyone out of the house, Happy can stay, take off that dress, Happy won't be there when you do that, and put on the clothes I've left with the letter. 

When you're ready, just tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to brief you on the use of your armour. I know, I know you've never been in favour of it, but you need it. F.R.I.D.A.Y will explain everything you need to know, you just let go, trust me. Go out and free yourself, eat the world.

PS I LOVE YOU"

That was one of the first letters Tony had planned for you. As time went on, they came to you once a month, as well as on special days, such as your birthday, his birthday, your anniversary, etc. He had planned every minute of those days. Tony knew you so well that he knew what you might be thinking, or how you were feeling. On the one hand, he covered the loneliness you felt without him, but on the other hand he made you feel even emptier and reminded you that he would never be with you again and you could never spend those moments together.

At first it was rewarding, but as time went on you realised that it was impossible to evolve, you had entered a loop from which it was impossible to get out. You spent your days waiting for a letter that might not arrive, and wondering when his "plan" would come to an end and if you were ready for it. Happy was supportive in that sense and tried to keep you grounded, as you both knew Tony best.

One evening you were doing what Tony had instructed you to do in the last letter you had received, the one for your fifth wedding anniversary. Along with it Tony had sent you a black dress along with a pair of high heels, informing you that you were not to leave the house before 8.00 p.m. and to head for the lakeshore when you were ready.

Happy was sitting on the couch trying to hide his concern about the situation that had dragged on for two years. After finishing your touch-ups you said goodbye to him and complied with Tony's details. You had no idea what you were going to find, but as you left, you could see a small square table in the distance, decorated with candles, waiting for you. As you arrived you noticed that a faint song began to play through a small speaker hidden behind some flowers, your song.

"I guess thanks for that, F.R.I.D.A.Y," you said looking at the diamond bracelet Tony had given you when you got engaged that was connected to his AI.

"It was me," you turned around to find Happy's voice behind you.

You frowned and looked at him, realising that he was holding a pair of white envelopes in his hands. A state of nervousness and confusion took over your body, and without being able to say a word you pointed to his hands.

"These are the last of them," he whispered, stepping in front of you and handing them to you.

You smiled, finding tears gathering in your eyes, and nodded, taking them in your hands.

"I'm sorry Y/N," Happy said with a shake of his face. "He made me promise not to tell you anything, and I couldn't refuse to help him either. Even if I wasn't totally on board with this crazy plan. You know how he is."

"I know," you bit your lower lip smiling and wiping the tears from your eyes.

"They're the last ones," he repeated again. "After today, you'll have to move on without them."

After those words Happy went back the way he had come, and instead of taking a seat at the table you approached the edge of the lake. You had before you the last words Tony had written to you. One of the letters read "To the love of my life", while the other read "To that person". Puzzled, you opened the one that said "To the love of my life" first.

"Hello again honey.

How is everything going, is Happy still keeping his nerves under control in this situation? I hope he is and that he has delivered this letter to you.By the way I don't know how the situation has developed, but don't be angry with him, I made him promise not to tell you anything until it's all over, and as you can see that's the point.

The thing is, I'm not going to be able to write any more, today is the last day before I leave for the mission, and if you've finally been getting all the letters, this has to be the last one. I just made you the recording that Happy will give you if things don't go as planned, and you are begging me to come back to our bedroom with you. 

I guess everything I needed to tell you I haven't been able to do, you know there are a lot of things I'm good at, but in expressing my feelings in words I've never really excelled.

I'd love to know what you're thinking right now, or how you feel about the "plan" I've created. Although I also don't know if you've been able to make it this far, or if you've decided not to go through with it anymore. Happy has orders that the moment you say "enough" it's all over, I don't want you to suffer. 

I just want you to be happy, I want you to be as happy as I have been by your side, I want you to show your beautiful smile to the world, I want you to get everything you want.

My honey, I'm going to dedicate these last words to tell you how you changed my life, how you offered me everything I was missing, without even knowing it. You agreed to marry me, you made us a family. And that's what I want for you.

Even though you may feel sad and insecure right now, I need you to show that you are the strongest woman I know and move forward. May you live that wonderful life you wished you had, may you do crazy things, may you meet people and fall in love. May you feel love again, may you rediscover it with someone who makes you happy and may you start a family again. 

Please don't be afraid, I am well and I will be well. Don't think of me, think of yourself, and if you think of me, know that I will be watching you and taking care of you every day. I want you to know that I couldn't leave our house without thinking that you will never feel that way about anyone again, in case I don't come back.

Having said that, honey, it only remains for me to leave you a new letter, a letter for that person who restores your faith in love, who I know you will find one day. I just want you to give it to him or her when you are sure.

So sweetheart,

PS I LOVE YOU"

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[tabby-shieldmaiden]

This is for @promptsforthestrugglingauthor ‘s Friday Night Fights. Please make sure to check the tags for content warnings, and I hope that you enjoy this! 

Reblogs would be appreciated! Comments too!

Just like any day where I have a scheduled exam, I arrive at school as early as I can. I had packed myself breakfast to eat there. Mostly out of habit. I like to eat at school, for some reason. It was a simple meal, two peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches and some coffee in a thermos. I ate it all while sitting under the old tree in the centre of the school’s courtyard. Afterwards, I pack away my lunchbox into my pack, pick up my sword, and head over to the centre of the yard.

I take in a deep breath, and adjust my stance. Then I determine my next move. My mind runs through the many ways I could swing my sword at a hypothetical monster. Most of them were moves I saw from other trainers, expert swordsmen. I had looked through lots of diagrams in the library, and I tried to recall as many as I could. I swung, trying to recall all the advice given to me. Took in a deep breath. Swung my sword again. 

It wasn’t as good as having a sparring partner or a dummy, but for the time being, while the gym was closed and I was partnerless, this was as good a practice I could get. Especially before the practical.

I wanted to pass this test. I wanted to be a good sword fighter period. I always wanted to be a knight or a magical girl or something along those lines ever since I was a little girl. In a world with so many monsters, where more and more different variants are spawning by the day, where researchers and the fighters of monsters are constantly dropping like flies while on the job due to the sheer number of new monsters, I was encouraged to go for it. 

At least, I was encouraged to go for it by my teachers. Other people who knew me for my interests at school.

My mother is still scared for me. I came from a long line of seamstresses. My father had been a baker’s son, before serving some time as a soldier against the monsters, and then dying. He was poorly-trained, and he was already a rather scrawny, sickly man. It was during a particularly intense battle. A lot of people died. Traditionally, in my country, funerals last three days. His funeral lasted three hours. Right before one, and right after there was another one.

It stuck with me. For years, it was all I could think about. I wondered if there could have been a way for him to live. I wished that I could grow up strong and brave. Eventually, I began asking myself questions. Could I get stronger, faster, become a better fighter than my father? Fight the monsters who took his life? 

Those questions, those hypotheticals, became challenges. 

As it turns out, I could. I got good enough to get past an audition, and into Northport’s School for Monster Hunters and Monster Research. Mother was scared, but ultimately supportive. “You’re a tough girl, Janey. But please, be as careful as you can.” I have her and my younger sister Lila praying for my safety every day. Every day, I make sure I work as hard as I can for them.

What no one told me was that most people who enrolled in these specialised schools for monster hunters were trained all their lives. They came from lines of acclaimed monster hunters. Powerful people, great fighters, who spent their youth slaying monsters and keeping the land safe, and then were  lucky enough to retire and go on to start families. 

My classmates were proud. They were good at what they did. They trusted very few. Cliques were common among the people I went to school with. Most of my classmates were better fighters than I was. They were more skilled, thanks to spending a lifetime around monster hunters. While I played with dolls and balls, their toys growing up were swords and shields. And they needed to learn how to use them well. Their families expected them to. And among themselves right now, because of their cliques (the environment was very cliquey), they trained and pushed each other every day. I was mostly friendless, and I had to do a lot of training by myself. It made things like sparring more difficult. Who was I supposed to spar against if all I had was myself most of the time?

I thought I was pretty good before. I was the neighbourhood bully hunter. The girl who would never go anywhere without her makeshift armour. Being an aspiring warrior was my ‘thing’. But once I started school at Northport, I suddenly became a small fish in a very big pond. Especially in terms of my fieldwork.

I was decent at theory at least. I studied monsters and the best ways to take them down - all their common weak points and vulnerabilities - as much as I could, and I was rewarded for my hard work in the form of Cs, Bs, even an odd B+. They, for the most part, are what prevent me from flunking out. I suppose this is a sign I should get into research more than fieldwork… hm…

In any case, in the present I need to focus on my swordwork. I’d been practicing in private a lot lately. Hopefully, they’ll be good enough for the examiners. I always found theory exams much easier than practicals. But hopefully, this time I’ll be good enough to pass this one the first time ‘round. 

I go from stance to stance. Rehearsing how to carry myself, and the right next steps after. They weren’t supposed to be static, which was the problem. The trainers always said I was far too stiff. I needed to be dynamic, flowing, my movements striking and powerful. I’d been practicing loads. But I still wonder, I question, I doubt. And I froze.

Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen. If I had overthought my next move out in the field, I would have died. They had always said the problem was my way of thinking. Mainly, that I thought too much. “You’ll choke out in the field if you overthink it,” they said. “Just go with your gut, trust that you’ve practiced and let your instincts kick in.” Most everyone in the class was so good at going with their gut. It came as naturally to them as breathing. 

I had to argue with my mother to even get a sword. Prior to this, I had only a year of official training. I think what got me into the school was my good grades in my formal education. I pour countless hours into practicing my fighting skills. But I think too much when I really shouldn’t. I always have. Ever since I was little. And so far, it’s hard to turn that part of me off.

I sometimes wonder if anyone else in this school felt the same way. But honestly, if they grew up in a family of monster hunters, I don’t know why they would. I envy them sometimes. Growing up, they had access to some of the finest monster hunters to train them in the craft.

After a while, I stop and drop my sword. Panting, I pick up my bag, and make my way to the bathroom. It was about time I took a break anyway. I can’t go and take my exam while exhausted. Right now though, I needed to freshen myself up. I have to at least look presentable.

Well, technically I didn’t. The people who judge fieldwork are all seasoned warriors, and they all know not to judge a fighter by their appearances. But I still feel the need to look neat and tidy anyways.

I walk into the bathroom, and I steer myself towards the sink. I wash my hands. Scrub them clean of grime. And once they were clean, I splash some water onto my face. The sweat washes off my brow, and I felt a little more refreshed. I’m still all sweaty from the neck down, but at least my face was clean.

I wish I had brought some deodorant. Ah well. I still should try to do what I can to freshen myself up anyways. I undo my braid, which was already coming apart, and I start to redo it again.

Halfway through, my ears pick up a soft sound. Previously, I had thought that I was the only one in the bathroom. But upon closer inspection…

I turn around, and realise that there was actually a locked door behind me. Another soft sound. Something muted. If I had to classify the sound, I would say it was  a sob. It sounded like the person wanted to make a softer sound, but ended up sobbing louder than they had wanted to. 

I slowly walk to the stall, my concern growing. Was it any of my business? Probably not. But I was an ex-bully hunter. I always, out of instinct, would want to check up on anyone who appears to be having a miserable time in the school bathroom. 

I tap the door once. Twice. “Hey,” I whisper.

A sniffle. “Are you okay?”

No response. Another attempt at a muted sob, which came out loud regardless. 

“Are you crying?”

“Please,” their voice cracked against the word. “Don’t acknowledge it.”

I pause, and bite my lip. For a moment, I contemplated between walking off and leaving them alone, or staying with them. But that decision ended up being harder to make than I thought. I most likely had no idea who this person was as all. Would they even appreciate having a random stranger hang around for them in the bathroom? They sound like me being here was already a pretty big blow to their dignity. 

On the other hand… call me a chronic do-gooder, but I don’t like people being left alone to suffer. I just don’t. But I knew I had to respect them. If they want to be alone, they should be allowed to be left alone. Something my mother told me once regarding heroics was that assuming what was best for someone wasn’t necessarily doing what was best for someone. I had trouble grasping that concept when I was younger. Now, I think I should try to work harder at remembering that. 

With as gentle a voice I can muster, I ask them, “Would you rather be left alone now?”

A loud sniffle. A pause. “N-no. It’s fine.” Another sniffle. A choke. 

And then there was silence. I tap my fingers together, I wonder what to do. “Could… could you stay for a little while?” They asked, their voice soft, tinged with embarrassment. 

“Oh, uh, of course.” I dug into my backpack and pulled out my phone. From there, I check the time. I still had a couple of hours before the exam would start. Ultimately, I guess it was a pretty good decision to head to school early.

It was awkward there. I tried to focus on anything else. The weight of my sword hanging from my belt. The whirring of fans. The strong smell of cheap air freshener. The suspicious looking puddle leaking out of the stall in the far right. Then, they started talking again. “If you promise to not tell anyone else,” a sniffle, “can I vent a little to you?”

I was… well I was a little surprised at the request. I’d had a lot of people vent to me in my lifetime. But those had all been people I knew. Ergo, I knew what words to say to them to comfort them. But I didn’t know who was on the other side of the door. What does one say to someone who may be a complete and total stranger?

Maybe they really do just need someone to vent to though. “Sure,” I say. Maybe all I need to do is listen.

A sniffle. “Okay… okay…” And then a moment of silence. I figure they probably needed some time to put their thoughts together. So I stood there, patient.

“I…” they trailed off again. “I guess I’m just… I’m just worried about disappointing people in the fieldwork exam today.” My eyes widen. They were taking the test today too?

“I… My Mom and Dad expect a lot. They were all really skilled monster hunters back in the day… and… and… so’s everyone else in the family. I come home every day and I always hear about how even though they were so great, they all had their close shaves. And how someone like me could never be a good hunter like they all were…” Trailed off. More crying.

They calm down. “Like, sometimes I feel like I’m the talentless one of the bunch. I feel like I’m in the wrong place. But I actually wanted to be here. So I can only blame myself for failing.” A choke. A sniff. “I just made it into this school. If there had just been one more person auditioning, who… who had more potential than I did… I wouldn’t have even made it… I’m pretty sure.” I chew my lip. Regardless of whether or not I knew them, I honestly didn’t know what to say to help them feel better.

They continue, after taking more time to cry. I stood there, waiting patiently, growing more and more uncomfortable with my inability to truly go in and comfort them. Why couldn’t I think of anything which seemed like the right thing to say? 

“And all my friends… They’re so much better than I am at everything too. They get better grades at everything they can stick with their study schedules… I think I’m actually pretty replaceable to them. Anyone else in my class just seems so much more hardworking than me, and I don’t know why… I don’t know why I can’t seem to ever work as hard as they do. I want to, but I can’t, and now I’m scared I never practiced enough to pass.” They cry some more. It sounds like an insecurity they’d been grappling with for a long time. 

I swallowed after hearing that. Did they… are they a classmate of mine? And if they were, was I actually an object of envy in some ways?

The perspective I had just been given, along with how it was revealed to me, only made me feel something strange. I wasn’t quite sure what I would label that emotion. They continued to sob behind the bathroom stall.

“I see,” I replied, after they had quieted down. I still had no real words of comfort to give them. A bit more crying from behind the door. I look down at my sword, and kick the tiled floor. 

“Thanks,” they say, “thanks for listening by the way. Promise you won’t tell anyone about this?”

I nod. “Of course I won’t.” That was a promise. “I’ll… I need to go now too. Good luck for your test.”

A sniffle. “Thank you.” I leave the bathroom.

It was weird now. Just earlier I had been worried about being held back, and now… those fears have been given a bit more perspective. And well… I suppose I am still worried about the test. But at the same time…

I look down at my sword, and then make my way to the holding room. Hopefully, it should be open by now. It was not. That meant loitering around in the corridor for a bit. Ah well. 

I read a lot of stories about great heroes back in the day. Beyond monster slayers, there were also many fictional tales about great heroes I loved. I still love them, somewhat. But I also realise, as I grew older, that so many of those tales made it feel like the world revolved around one very successful person. And everyone else there was merely a prop to help them attain greatness. And though the world doesn’t revolve around a person, at times, I found myself feeling more like a prop and less like the hero to my own tale. Simply because of how powerless I feel sometimes. 

There were exceptions to those though. The hero sometimes needs to learn that the world did not revolve around them. They needed to learn to accept their weaknesses while acknowledging the strengths of their friends. Then they empowered each other to live happily ever after together. Working together to make up for each other’s shortcomings.

Strangely enough, I suddenly got the feeling to reread one of those stories.

Maybe after the exam. Hopefully, the practice will pay off.

[imjeralee]

Wallflower: Chapter 16 - Your Hugs are the Best

Raihan x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: I remember typing this chapter. It was a nightmare XD

Summary: You’re an unassuming Pokemon breeder who works at the nursery in the Wild Area and he’s Raihan, the fearsome gym leader of Hammerlocke who has more than a million followers. You don’t want anything to do with him but he’s…persistent.

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Lemon, smut, violence, language. 

YOUR HUGS ARE THE BEST

...

...

Eli's brought to the room in handcuffs with two policemen escorting him.

He's got a visitor and he's not sure who it could be because he's not expecting anyone else to visit him. Bede came earlier, just to see how he was getting on and to drop a few insults which he was used to. Bede will now become Chairman Rose's right hand man, a role which the youth had wanted for some time but didn't realise he would get so soon and without any drama considering Eli's own (and uncalled for) undoing. His mum also came to visit where he found out a rather unpleasant truth.

Numb inside, he finds his feet moving on their own accord and when the door is opened, he's nudged in and he sees Raihan sitting in the empty seat, wearing a rather morose expression which doesn't suit him.

So Eli snarls out, "What are you doing here?"

Raihan's really the last person he wants to see. He took everything from him. Everything. He's extremely fortunate; he's a gym leader, he's rich and he has a girlfriend. That's what really grinds Eli's bones. He has everything whilst Eli has nothing. As though oblivious to Eli's growing disdain, Raihan says, "I'm here to visit you." It's the obvious truth which frustrates Eli more.

Regardless, Eli shuffles over, dragging the chair out and the legs scrape across the cold hard floor with a squeal; Eli plops himself down, furious. "Why? Have you come here to gloat?"

Raihan looks confused. "No. Why would I do that?"

”Then what do you want?”

”I just came to see how you were.”

Eli lifts up his handcuffed wrists. “What do you think?”

Raihan slides his gaze to the cuffs then says, "...I spoke to your mother.”

There's a brief silence and Eli lowers his wrists, throwing his glance to the window before he scoffs. “...The old bag isn't even my real mum. I don't know where I come from or who I am." He mutters under his breath, “...What a joke. My entire life is a joke. What else could go wrong?”

He's facing ten years in prison, that's what could go wrong.

”Eli, you helped Chairman Rose all those years and he doesn't blame you for what you did. We can reduce the sentence.”

Again, he scoffs. ”Look at me, Raihan. I'm right where I belong. I'm a criminal. Since the day Rose told me I was no longer going to be Hammerlocke's gym leader, Team Rocket took me under their wing and I infiltrated Galar for them. Don’t feel sorry for me. The only people who truly appreciated me was Team Rocket.” Eli replies, before he says loudly, “One day, you'll also realise that Rose is nothing but a selfish bastard and by that time, it'll be too late."

"Rose can be difficult, but....he wants to help you.”

"It's fine, Raihan. No-one needs to do anything for me. I got what I deserved."

Raihan looks somewhat conflicted. "That's not true."

"Don't bother with me anymore. Just leave me alone. Don't you know how lucky you are? Don't you know how good you have it?" Eli replies, before he throws a glance over his shoulder, "Guard, take me back.”

”Wait."

”What?”

“...You’re one of the first people I met when I joined the Pokemon League.” Raihan says, as Eli moves to stand, “You were a good friend to me; I'll never forget that.”

Eli blinks in silence, stunned. His fists curl but he says nothing and the policemen return, ending the short visit. Eli does nothing as the men grab him and bring him to the door and out of the room. Raihan watches his retreating back silently.

The guards show Eli to the cell, uncuffs him and he steps inside, glancing around his surroundings. He'll be here for a long time. Eli's lip trembles as he sits down on the cold, hard bed and the barred door is slammed shut and locked with a loud creak, he stares quietly at the ground.

Then he promptly bursts into tears.

....

After leaving the station, Raihan returns to the stadium. The city's pretty quiet today in general but it could be due to the closure of the gym and the cancellation of gym challenges for a week so there's less tourists. Along the way, he receives several messages and when he checks the screen, his brows furrow when he realises they are from someone he didn't want to hear from, or think he would hear from either: his ex-girlfriend.

The message preview says: I miss you.

He should tell his girlfriend should he get the chance, just in case any misunderstandings arise.

Nevertheless, he makes his way inside the gym and to the locker room where he spots the Hammerlocke gym team - his proteges Sebastian, Camilla and Aria, and the cheerleaders. They're all waiting for him; some of them are on their phone until he steps inside and they hastily put away their devices, all attention focused on the gym leader.

"Morning everyone." He gives them a grin, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his thick hoodie as everyone seats themselves down on the benches, "Today's meeting is gonna be fairly short. I'd send a message to the group chat but I thought speaking to you guys face to face would be better. You've probably seen the news - all gyms are to be closed for a week, re-opening next Monday. However, you're welcome to use the pitch for training as long as you've still got your keycard."

There's an excitable hubbub amongst the group but they soon dissolve into silence as Aria lifts up her arm.

"Yes, Ari?"

"Raihan, why did Eli attack Chairman Rose?"

Raihan lifts one hand to scratch at his headband; he forgot that some of the team and proteges were new and wouldn't know. "Eli was originally meant to be Hammerlocke's gym leader." He says. Whilst Sebastian, Alicia and Camilla nod, the others look noticeably confused. "But Chairman Rose decided Eli wasn't a good fit so I was given the gym leader position instead."

"Thank Arceus!" One of the cheerleaders exclaim, "We can't imagine anyone else being Hammerlocke's gym leader except you, Rai."

"Yeah, I agree!"

"Definitely not Eli, he's awful!"

The cheerleaders are quite vocal about their opinions whilst his proteges merely nod amongst themselves and Raihan laughs, "Alright, calm down, everyone." And the cheerleaders simmer into silence.

Sebastian lifts his hand up this time. "The news says you and your girlfriend stopped him." He mutters, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

"Yep, that's right. You've probably seen her around."

A cheerleader giggles loudly, "Yeah, I saw her mop the floor with Alicia!"

Immediately, Alicia frowns and scowls at her. "I-I went easy on her!"

"I heard she's an EV trainer."

"Has she been to any of your matches, Rai?"

"Not yet."

"Can we meet her????" asks another cheerleader and whilst Alicia and a few others scowl at her, the proteges look quite interested.

"Sure. I can bring her round one day."

"Yay!”

"Any more questions? Anyone?"

The group goes silent and everyone throws glances to each other but overall, there's nothing, so Raihan adjourns the meeting and everyone goes off their separate ways. As he takes his belongings out of his locker, Rotom sounds off again and he checks the screen. It's from his ex again and it says: I miss you, please come back to me.

....

Later.

There's a spot in your home where you go when you want some peace and quiet, to clear your mind. It's not the kitchen sink cupboard either, it's the tree stump in your front yard. Luckily the weather is good with a gentle breeze in the air so you've sat there whilst waiting for Raihan to come back, staring up at the sky with Espeon curled up in your lap.

You stroke her head and back absent-mindedly, preoccupied with your thoughts. You had woken up this morning, remembering all too well that Raihan has seen you sleeping under the kitchen sink in the middle of the night and you thought you had turned him off big time but you were surprised to wake up and he was still in your home. He didn’t mention anything though and you carried on as normal - you both took a shower, got dressed, ate breakfast and then Raihan returned to Hammerlocke.

Many people in your life came and went. They could deal with your emotional issues, or issues in general - but only up to a certain point. After a while, people just seemed to have displayed no interest in listening and stopped lending their ears. You soon discovered that people were more interested in themselves and were only out for themselves.

That was a cold, hard truth you learned quickly in life.

Used to being misunderstood, being disappointed by those you poured your trust and faith in... the only person you confided in and still maintained contact with was your friend who has been with you through thick and thin and vice versa - and now you have found out that she’s been involved in an accident in Castelia City; she's been admitted to the Community Hospital and she hasn't woken up. Her mother called you to let you know, even though she's a few days late. That explains why your friend never made it to Rose's party.

If that wasn't distressing enough for you, your boss then messaged, informing you that she will be taking indefinite leave and the nursery will be closed for a week on account that the gyms are closed, too.

However, during her absence, you're going to get a new boss - someone from the Route 5 nursery. Your boss sounded uncertain when you asked her when she was going to return, so now you can't help but feel that she's decided not to come back, if at all. She tells you not to worry about the nursery during your break.

You have decided that Phantump will continue to stay with Allister; your boss cannot bring herself to face Phantump at the moment. Perhaps in due time, she will take him in.

Then you saw this online article and it's about Raihan and you and the comments range from how ugly and fat you are and how you don't deserve Raihan, how poor you are and that you're a gold digger, how he deserves much better and that you should go back to where you came from.

Emitting a huge and heavy sigh, you try not to let the comments from complete and utter strangers get to you but they are so mean and hurtful...and now you're questioning everything: why are you here? If you think about it more clearly, you haven't really had a good time.... you haven't made any new friends. Your family are in Johto, you miss them a lot, and now your friend is hurt and in hospital. Your job seems secure to a certain extent but you're not sure what's going to happen from now on.

The only good thing to happen to you since you came here is meeting Raihan. Aside from that...you don't really have anyone or anything else. It was your choice to work abroad... but you didn't realise it could be so lonely.

And before Raihan left to Hammerlocke, you had told him everything that had happened and how you will need to visit your friend in Unova. After Unova, you will go to Johto to see your family. You asked him if he wanted to come because since you both have a week off, you think it is really a good idea to make the most of it if possible.

To your utmost surprise, he agreed and that he would look into last minute flights. Leave it all to him, he said. You felt bad about that but he said he would take care of it.

The thought of going home actually makes you happy and you turn to Espeon. She opens her large eyes and blinks up at you, then she reaches up and rubs her head and ears and whiskers over the side of your cheek affectionately. You giggle, wrapping your arms around your lilac furry baby, fingers smoothing over her soft fur. She purrs with content, closing her eyes as you hold her tightly in your embrace. You remember when she was just a little Eevee, so tiny and cute.

You chuckle under your breath just as Poliwag sticks his head under your arm and eases it off Espeon, burying himself into your arms. He trills happily and you're surprised to see him outside the bathroom which is nice for a change. Drifloon floats over too, wrapping his little strings under your chin and settling over the top of your head.

"Hmm, I'm missing two more." You say, throwing a glance over your shoulder to Dreepy and Goomy - however, you're quickly taken by surprise when Dreepy vanishes from his spot and materialises on your shoulder, rubbing his head over your cheek.

That leaves Goomy, who's fast asleep under a neon mushroom a few feet away from your group until he's gently picked up. It's Raihan; he's returned, standing behind the small gate of your front yard. With Goomy in his grasp, he makes his way over to your group. "Hey."

Your face lights up at once. "Hey, you're back. How did it go?"

"All good. Sebastian and the others are fine. The cheerleaders too." He leans forwards and you exchange a brief kiss before breaking apart. Raihan moves to sit cross-legged in front of you on the grass with Goomy snoozing away in his lap. "The stadium's officially closed." He adds, "I got the tickets. Everything's all booked."

Your jaw drops as he pulls out some tickets from his pockets and presses them into your hand. He's gotten cruise tickets for the Royal Unova andplane tickets. "Rai! These are...how did you even get these??? It’s so last minute! Thank you so much." You smile widely at him and he leans forwards once more; you follow his cue and your lips meet again.

"It's no bother at all."

"How much do I owe you?"

"You don't owe me anything, princess. It was my pleasure." He says, cupping your cheek with his large hand, "The Royal Unova will take us from Hulbury directly to Castelia City, then we'll catch a direct flight from Mistralton to Johto."

You gawk at him wide-eyed. He's got everything figured out! Sweet Arceus, why is Raihan so perfect?!

"I'll head back to pack." He adds, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Okay. Shall we meet at Hulbury?"

He nods, pressing his lips against yours briefly. "Yep." You smooch again until he says, “Before I go, I need to show you something.”

”What?”

He takes out his phone and shows you his messages screen. You don’t see anything wrong and you’re not sure why he’s showing you it until you see a “I miss you” message from his ex.

At first, you blinked blankly at the message, then your expression turned dark. What the hell. I miss you? You begin to quietly seethe with rage; you see that he’s received several messages too, and not just the one. So....his ex wants to get back with him?

He returns his phone back to his pockets once he notices how you glower at the screen. ”I just started receiving them this morning. I didn’t reply, and I’m not going to.” He mutters, “I thought I should tell you.”

Oh, Raihan. Raihan, Raihan, Raihan. What a sweetheart. You smile widely, reaching for him and pulling his headband up where you plant multiple kisses on his forehead. He chuckles in response when you proceed to wrap your arms around his head, holding him close to you.

”Thanks, I really appreciate it.” You say, “It’s fine, honestly.”

Raihan leaves and you grab Goomy; it sucks that Raihan’s ex has messaged him, trying to worm her way back into his life and even trying to steal him away from you - but Raihan has shown you the messages and even told you he won’t entertain her.

With more important things to think about - like your trip for example - you rush back into your cottage with your pokemon and into your lounge and they leap out of your arms as you shut the door before you pull out your Rotom phone to message your mother:

You: Hi mom i have a week off so im coming home. Raihan is coming with me :)

Looking up from your phone for a brief moment, you pause, then hastily start typing again.

You: Ps can u hide my Steven Stone fan art and those fanfictions I wrote about Lance?

...

Later.

This is your first trip with Raihan.

How exciting!

Also, you're getting to go home! You'll be able to see mum and Glenn - and it's then you randomly remember that mum had wanted you to go to Celadon City and not Galar, to train as a flower girl in Erika's gym but knowing that she only specialised in grass and welcomed 'attractive' pokemon only, you had refused because your entire team apparently didn't qualify.

Time is of the essence here and you're determined to make the most of your allocated time - so the itinerary is very simple: the Royal Unova is a luxurious cruise ship that picks up passengers on various harbours around the world and in Galar, and as Raihan mentioned, the harbour is at Hulbury. It will subsequently dock at it's final destination which is Castelia City, thus efficiently depositing you where your friend's hospital is. It won't even take long either, just a few hours onboard. You've been wary of sea travel after seeing what happened to the S.S. Anne but hell, it can't stop you.

And after you visit your friend, you will then head to Mistralton City to take a flight to Johto and from Johto, take a return flight to Galar. Unfortunately, you really don't have any time to do much sightseeing in Unova with Raihan. Maybe next time.

The cruise ship is arriving tonight at eight o'clock and you've got to pack. Whilst Raihan has returned home to pack his belongings, you both video chat each other. Even though he's not physically in your house, you feel he is still with you. You will meet him three hours in Hulbury prior boarding time; he's given you heads up to pack a swimsuit.

You hastily return all your house'mon into their pokeballs and deposit them into the PC for safekeeping and for access when you get on the cruise liner. You will keep Metagross, Chompy, Tyranitar, Salamence and Haxorus with you on person. You keep Poliwag with you too; he'll be your companion.

At home, you pull out the suitcase you took with you to Galar, giving it a quick wipe with a clean and hot cloth before grabbing some clothes to pack. You're not going away for long so it's not necessary to pack too many items but for some reason you're wanting to pack ten pairs of panties with you in case you run out of underwear. Once you're done, you ensure all your gas, electricity and water and heating has been turned off and make sure everything else is in order, then head for the door.

"Goodbye, house." You say, giving your cottage one final look before closing the door and locking it.

The Corviknight taxi takes you and Poliwag to Hulbury and it's been a while since you and Poliwag have really hung out but it's nice for him to be outside your bathroom for a change.

Since Poliwag is not very good at walking, you carry him. He looks a little frightened by his new and different surroundings but you assure him that he'll be fine and you both make your way to the harbour where Raihan is waiting for you; he's inside the ferry terminal, looking at his phone whilst seated on a bench with three suitcases by his side.

At first, you thought he would be overdressed but he's looking rather casual - he's wearing a windbreaker, a white t-shirt with a dragon claw print on the front, black joggers and white trainers with a red streak on the sides. In an attempt to be as inconspicuous as possible, he's even propped a beanie over his dreadlocks and a pair of sunglasses. Luckily, no-one seems to pay any attention to him; you weave through the crowd of passengers who are waiting to board the ship and when he sees you, he stands, putting his phone away.

"That's a lot of suitcases." You point out as you stop in front of him.

"Yep." He says, peering down from his shades to wink at you; he scoops your hand with his, giving you an affectionate squeeze, "Let's go, I got all the travel documents."

Nodding, you join the queue with your suitcases and stand in line amongst other fellow passengers who chatter to each other excitedly whilst their Pokemon play with each other. You can also hear people comparing the amount of ribbons their pokemon have and the number of contests they've won. Outside, the ship can be seen bobbing up and down gently in the sea where a few Dewgongs leap around and frolick in the waves. The ship is so huge you can only see one window and the side of the ship is covered in Binacles.

To keep yourself occupied whilst you queue, you watch as a few youngsters play around with their pokemon whilst a couple in the corner kiss passionately; Raihan nudges you with a grin and you turn away, cheeks reddening. You grab the brochure, opening it and checking the entertainment onboard - there are a few shows going on, namely Pokemon Karaokemon and Pikachu's Jukebox which you want to watch.

When it's finally your turn to be served, you both check in, the agent breezes through your travel documents and passports where you and Raihan end up comparing your ID photos. The agent then weighs all your luggage and attaches tags on them; finally, she prints out your onboard identification passes, room key and payment card and you're finally ready to go in. The agent tells you that the ship will be docking in Castelia City next morning.

You almost forgot how exhausting the entire ordeal could be when you and Raihan make your way hand in hand down the corridor that will lead to the ship. A steward with a Poliwhirl dressed up with a sailor's hat stands at the very top and they both welcome you onboard with a synchronised salute. The steward provides instructions how to find your room and when you look at the ticket, you realise Raihan's booked a VIP suite which doesn't surprise you at all.

With Poliwag in your arms, you and Raihan find your room - which is far away from the common folk and it's a massive room with an equally huge king-sized bed slap bang in the middle. The room's decor is seriously exquisite - consisting of gold drapes and red furnishings and an ensuite bathroom that's fitted with a jacuzzi. It's a shame you're only staying for a few hours, but you are going to make sure you relax and enjoy your time here with Raihan.

Whilst Raihan tests the bed, you and Poliwag check out the bathroom, glimpsing around the beautiful marble interior. You're interrupted when a tannoy goes off and it's an announcement from the captain; you feel the ship is beginning to move and you are now free to explore the ship to your heart's content.

The first thing you do is hit the VIP pool; it's Raihan's idea, of course.

With a towel, a pair of flip-flops and your swimsuit in hands, you and Raihan head to the VIP area where you both split up once you reach the changing rooms. Poliwag finds an empty cubicle for you - you're going to meet Raihan at the pool - and you quickly change out of your clothes and into the swimsuit you packed. Cripes, it's tight. You stand awkwardly in your flip-flops, tugging and pulling at the straps and pulling down on your panties before locking away your belongings into a locker and grabbing the jelly bracelet and key, strapping it around your wrist.

Turning to Poliwag, he looks eager to hit the pool and follows you outside, promptly jumping into the pool first.

You stop at the pool's edge, peering over and glimpsing into the clear blue water and you sense a presence approaching you from behind. Spinning round on your heel, you see it's Raihan and he's about to push you into the pool as he creeps up but you're quick to grab his arm as he reaches for you and you pull him forwards.

You end up tumbling into the pool with a loud splash. There's a few patrons - mostly old ladies and gentlemen along with their Pokemon (ranging from Horsea, Swanna to Snubbull) leisurely swimming around and they don't look impressed with your arrival, giving you dirty looks.

The pool's extremely deep; under water, you see Poliwag swimming closeby with someone's Buizel, before you hastily return to the surface with Raihan; he grins at you as he sweeps his damp hair away from his eyes before he grabs you - and he inadvertently brushes his hand over a ticklish spot - you end up curling into a ball that would put a defense curl to shame and squeak with laughter, trying to get away from him.

Raihan grins and goes after you in the pool; you're splashing loudly in the water and flailing around, swimming away from him until he finally chases you all the way to a quiet corner away from people; it's the section with the jacuzzi, the water bubbling around you and Raihan slips his bare arms around your waist, bringing you close to him.

"Got you." He murmurs, as Poliwag swims beside you both, kicking his little feet in the water before the bubbly water carries his little body up and he bobs around you in a circle. Your face grows red as Raihan leans over and nibbles the shell of your ear, pressing you against the slippery tiles of the pool. "What do you think of everything so far?"

"It's great," You utter with a smile as you drape your arms over his bare shoulders, running your hands over his smooth skin and muscles; he's so close your noses are touching and he nuzzles you affectionately. “This is my first time on the Royal Unova.”

“Mm, then we should do this more often. There's plenty of other vacation spots out there - Hano Grand Resort in Alola, for example."

"Actually, I'd love to go to Melemele Island, or visit Floaroma Meadow."

He chuckles before he leans forwards, his lips finding yours. You kiss him in response and he grins against your mouth, pressing his lips tightly against yours until your ears pick up the sound of pounding music a distant away; when you break apart, you glimpse over his shoulder. "What's up?" He asks, following the direction of your gaze.

"It's kinda noisy over there. Wonder what's going on."

"Wanna check it out?"

"Alright." You mutter, and Raihan leaves the pool before promptly lifting you out.

You grab Poliwag; following the source of the noise, it leads you to an entirely new area - you both peer over the ledge to see a massive pool one deck below filled with tonnes of people cheering and whooping and dancing whilst a DJ and his booth stands at the very end, blasting out heavy dance music with his Loudred and Exploud; there's a few stewards weaving through the crowd carrying champagne glasses.

A sign in the corner says:

Pool Party, Venue - Lower VIP Deck VIP members only **Strictly NO Electric-types allowed** PS. No Magikarps either.

It's not too late to turn back but Raihan's expression lights up at once at the scene and you sigh under your breath. Guess it can't be helped. “...Alright, let's go have a closer look."

Grinning widely, he takes your hand and leads you downstairs towards the lower VIP deck. There's no bouncer and you stray further inside where the music is becoming louder; in fact, it is so loud, it hurts your ears. Poliwag waddles beside you, looking around cautiously and trying not to get his tail stepped on.

Glancing at the pool, you see half of it is separated by a net - there are attractive young men and women playing water volleyball with their Vaporeon and Sharpedo and other water-types, screaming with laughter and cheering wildly. Holy crap, you are so uncomfortable here, being surrounded by so many attractive fit people in their tiny bikinis and shorts. You accidentally glance at a few couples on couches who are making out intensely and fondling each other in intimate areas - and you turn away immediately. There's so many people dancing and drinking booze and you cringe when you realise this is nothing but a gratuitous frat party.

And this is definetely Raihan’s scene.

In fact, he is totally at home here. It's so crowded, you can hardly breathe; almost every space of the deck is occupied by someone or a pokemon. There's barely any room to move around freely and if it wasn't for Raihan holding your hand tightly, you were afraid you would've become lost amongst the crowd. You give his hand a tight squeeze, clinging onto him for dear life but he merely smiles at you reassuringly.

"Do you want a drink?" Raihan asks, gesturing to the bar where a few staff members are busy making cocktails. "I'll get you one."

"Sure."

"What do you fancy?"

You shrug. "Nothing too strong, please. I'll wait for you over there." You gesture to an empty deck chair near the pool.

"Alright." He kisses your knuckles and makes his way towards the direction of the bar. Along the way, you notice a lot of girls ogle him, which makes you highly uncomfortable.

You stand on your own with Poliwag in your arms,  looking rather out of place. Oh well, time to hit the deckchair you mentioned. You head over, but some girl beats you to it and plops herself down on the plushy seat.

"Sorry, this one's taken." She says abruptly.

Fine then. You turn away to find another chair, weaving through the crowd, trying to locate a spare chair until you come across a small table with three seats and one is already taken - although you're not inclined to share, you don't see any other seats available. The person in the other chair is a woman in a white bikini with her sunhat conveniently placed over her face. Though you cannot see her face, you can tell she's attractive - she has a very slim, hourglass figurine with large breasts.

You ask, "Excuse me, are these seats taken?"

You wonder if she's asleep but she raises one sinewy hand and lowers the hat and your eyes widen; it's Raihan's ex-girlfriend. She observes you for a split second and whilst you freeze up all over with shock, she sits up properly and smiles. "No, there's no-one sitting here."

Shit, you should get away from her as quickly as possible. However, your feet are rooted to the spot and ultimately, it's too late to make a hasty exit now. "....Thanks." You end up croaking out, seating yourself down with Poliwag in your lap. He looks eager to jump into the pool, straining and struggling in your grip so you let go of him and he hops onto the floor. "Be careful, Poliwag."

He nods and with a cheerful trill, you watch as Poliwag waddles towards the pool and hastily jumps in, causing a splash which makes some patrons whoop and yell and follow his example, cannonballing into the pool. You're left with the ex-girlfriend.

"What a cute Poliwag," She coos, snapping you out of your thoughts and you turn to her, "Is that an Everstone tied around his tail?"

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"Sorry, could you say that again? I couldn't hear you over the noise."

"...Um, I said, yes, that's an Everstone." You croak out, raising your voice slightly higher so she could hear you. Is she being nice or fake-nice? You cannot tell and it doesn't even matter because you have no intention in getting to know her better or becoming her friend. You find that you can't stop staring at her; she's so pretty and perfect, with her sleek and shiny long hair, sharp features and big, soft eyes and long eyelashes and perky lips. You're feeling like the ugly Ducklett all over again. Ugh, how terrible, how awful.

"He doesn't want to evolve?" She asks curiously and it's then you see various guys a fraction of a distance away, and they're all staring at her, checking her out.

"Yeah."

"Why not?"

"He likes being a Poliwag."

"What level is he?"

"Seventy two. I've had him for a long time." You mentally kick yourself, pondering why you are still conversing and being so civil.

"A level seventy two Poliwag? I've never met a trainer who dedicated so much time in....in..."

"...In training a Poliwag up to level seventy two?"

"Yes," She giggles lightly, eyes creasing with delight. “Sorry, it's just... never mind. Anyway, fancy seeing you here. How are you?" She says, reaching for a champagne glass and lifting it off the table and earnestly, you're surprised she even recognises you.

"I'm fine, thank you." You grunt out.

"Here, have one." She gestures to the spare champagne glass and you stare at the pearly, golden liquid bubbling inside. "It's Champagne Brut Millesime."

"No thanks."

"I saw the news - you saved Chairman Rose along with the gym leaders and Leon." She adds, and a part of you is wondering why she is chatting to you as though you have known each other for a long time and as though you are very good friends. "That was very brave."

"I didn't do much."

She waves her other hand dismissively. "Don't be so modest. Everyone knows what you did - it’s on the news and it’s all over social media. So, what brings you here?"

"We're going to Unova."

"Is Raihan with you?"

You hesitate, then nod. "....Yeah, he is."

She glances around before she spots him at the bar, "Ah, I see." A wide smile appears on her face then. Chuckling to herself, she leans comfortably against the deckchair to stretch and you can't help but stare as she crosses one long leg over the other. Her skin is milky white and perfect, likeporcelain. "I don't think I properly introduced myself back at the party." She tells you her name and how she is a gym trainer at Elesa's gym in Nimbasa City and how she is also a social media model, beauty blogger, travel vlogger and makeup artist. All of these you already know, of course.

"That's crazy. I-I mean...wow." You're not sure what else to say in response to her feats but she seems pleased with your reaction anyway. You tell her that you're a Pokemon Breeder.

"I wanted to work in a daycare too because I love baby pokemon, but I like travelling more and I can't stay in one place for too long." She utters; you're busy looking around as she speaks and you spot a group crowding around a high table and you can see they're snorting berry dust up their noses. "Do you have a social media account? Give me your username and I'll add you."

"Huh? What? Oh...I-I'm not on social media."

"That's a shame." She mutters, looking rather confused, "You know...Raihan and I used to go to these kinds of parties all the time. We always had a good time....and he would always get me anything I wanted. It was really sweet of him. If I asked him to get me something, he used to drop everything and I mean everything, just to do it, just to make me happy. You should do the same too."

You give her an incredulous stare in response as she proceeds to take a sip from her champagne.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to go on like that." She rummages around her side and pulls out two thin cigarettes... or what you thought were cigarettes. "Want one?"

Your eyes grow wide. "Is that..."

"Yeah." She says with a grin, and as she attempts to find a lighter, you start feeling nauseous. "How are you two getting on?"

"We're fine."

Unable to find her lighter, she huffs and says, ”Alright, what do you like about him?”

You wonder why she is asking you this. “Everything. He’s perfect. I love his smile. Oh, and his hugs are the best.” You reply, without thinking too hard.

”Aw, how cute. You know, when he falls in love, he falls, hard. I'm sure you realise that by now," She then says, looking at her polished fingernails, "He was such a little flirt; he went after me like a Lycanroc on steroids. And when we broke up, his heart was crushed. I'm sure of it. I guess it can't be helped. But even then.... he managed to pick himself back up and start all over again....because now he's with you. And it's like I never existed."

You're not quite sure what she's trying to say.

However, now is a good chance to confront her and tell her to leave Raihan alone. He is your boyfriend, not hers. You need to get your message across, to mark your territory and claim what is yours, big time. Go on, tell her to leave Raihan alone.

"Look, I know you've - "

"Remind me again: how did you meet Raihan?"

You don't recall telling her how you met him. You should tell her how you met Raihan at a club and later had hot sex at his hotel room. Wait... maybe not. Some things should not be said and that is definitely one of them. You don't want to tell her anything because quite frankly, you are not obligated to tell her anything.

Before you can reply however, a familiar voice says, "We met at a club and then spent the night in a hotel room."

You turn round with your mouth agape to see Raihan standing behind you; when your eyes meet, he grins widely. "Rai!" You exclaim.

"What?"

"You can't just say these things out loud! People are going to get the wrong idea!"

He chuckles loudly whilst the ex-girlfriend stares silently at the both of you. He's got Poliwag with him and you take your tadpole pokemon off him and into your arms. Raihan then glances at his ex.

"Good to see you." He greets her before he leans down, cupping your chin with his hand and tilting your face up to his level, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss. As your heart thumps wildly, he lets go of you and his ex-girlfriend stares at your interaction before she opens her mouth, about to speak. However, Raihan quickly says, "We were about to go. Isn't that right, princess?"

"Yes! Let's go right now." You say hurriedly, although you wonder why Raihan doesn't seem interested in the party any longer.

"Wait." His ex-girlfriend rises from the chair to stand, "Raihan, can I talk to you? Alone?"

There's a short silence; Raihan glimpses between you and his ex-girlfriend, and you and Poliwag blink blankly at him in response. To your dismay, he nods. Planting his hand on your shoulder, he gives you a squeeze and grins at you, "I'll be right back."

Raihan pecks your forehead and promptly leaves your side. You watch as he joins his ex-girlfriend and they disappear through the crowd; you're left on your own and Poliwag slaps you on the arm gently with his tail and makes a loud noise, before using his tail to point at them unwaveringly.

"Follow them?" You utter, and he nods furiously. ".....No, we don't need to. I trust Raihan. Let's just wait for him to come back."

But Poliwag shakes his head and begins waddling towards the direction Raihan and his ex headed off to.

"Poliwag, come back!" Now you have no choice but to go after him, scrambling off the chair to chase after your pokemon.

He's quite small so you have a hard time trying to catch up, occasionally losing sight of your round boy but the telltale signs are his smooth and shiny blue head and tail bobbing around so eventually, you follow him all the way towards the direction of the VIP Observation Deck.

Along the way, you politely excuse yourself as you make your way through the crowd and suddenly, Poliwag stops and you finally reach him; lifting him up and back into your arms. Poliwag points again using his tail and you see Raihan and the ex-girlfriend; they haven't ventured too far at all. You immediately duck and hide behind the nearest pillar you can find before peeping out; you haven't been spotted and luckily, you are within earshot. Unfortunately, you're a bit late so they're in mid-conversation and you thought they were smoking joints together or whatever but they're merely staring at the ocean.

You can hear Raihan saying, "She means a lot to me."

The ex-girlfriend turns to him, placing her hand on his bare arm. "That's not true. You haven't been together for long. She cannot help you, Rai. She's a nobody and she's a stick in the mud. We had so much fun when we were together; remember when we went to Undella Town? Lilycove? The Resort Area in Sinnoh? We did so much together."

He gently removes her arm off him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you didn't reply to my messages and I miss you; I saw you at the party and I remembered how much fun we had. Let's go back together. We were meant for each other." She says, "I can call my engagement off; I miss you a lot. I really do. I know you still have feelings for me too - come back to me, please."

She smiles at him wistfully before she attempts to embrace him; however, he stops her, holding her back at arm's length, "You're wrong. And I don't feel the same. You've met a nice man who treats you well. I know you'll be very happy together."

There's a brief silence. She goes silent at the rejection, staring up at him with her large eyes. However, in the span of a second, her expression turns to ice as she glares at him before turning away from him with her nose in the air. "You'll regret this, Raihan," She sneers, "You two won't last long. And when the time comes, don't come crawling back to me because I won't take you back, even if you begged."

"Wasn't planning to." He calls after her as he lets go of her and she stomps away.

Your jaw hits the floor.

Poliwag struggles in your grip and lands on the ground, waddling out. "Poliwag!" You exclaim before you can help yourself, completely blowing your cover in progress as you attempt to grab him.

At the sound of your voice, Raihan turns round and you freeze up at once as he looks at you and Poliwag. You stand up properly as your gazes meet. Poliwag walks up to Raihan, chirping at him cheerfully and Raihan grins, scooping him off the ground and into his arms, holding him high into the air.

"Sorry, Rai, we weren't...I didn't mean to..." You mutter sheepishly as he heads over to you, and you take Poliwag from him.

However, Raihan merely smiles and plops his hand atop your head, "It's fine. She won't message me ever again."

He's chosen you over her, even though she tried to get back with him and you glance at the direction the ex-girlfriend stormed off to. "What you were talking about just there - she can't talk to you like that and just walk away though."

Yep, you're going to march up to her, tell her to stay away from Raihan. He's with you now. You're his girlfriend, not her.

However, he stops you by grabbing your arm gently. "Don't waste your time." He drawls, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, enveloping you into a tight hug. You hear him sigh gently before he presses his lips over the top of your head. You close your eyes, encircling your arms around him tightly and he does the same, burying his face into your hair.

”You’re too nice.” You mumble; you don't think that's the last you have seen of her.

“Kill ‘em with kindness. Gets them every time.”

You sigh helplessly in response. Even when people are horrible and mean to him, Raihan just smiles and takes it or shrugs it off. "But I don't want to see you get hurt or get taken advantage of."

"This is the kind of world we live in, princess." He replies, and you lower your gaze to the ground. Raihan chuckles at your response, ruffling your hair before he hugs you tighter and you bury your face into his nape, snuggling into him. “C’mon. Let’s go back to our room.”

You nod; he scoops your hand with his, clutching you firmly and you both make your way towards the direction of the exit. That's enough drama for one day.

...

Finally, you've made it to Castelia City.

It's your first time here and it's way bigger and busier than you had anticipated and the moment you left the ship, you and Raihan spent a few seconds gawking at the grandiose of it all. There is nothing in Galar that remotely resembles this city and hell, you thought Wyndon was pretty big but Castelia takes the cake. Quite frankly, you feel like a little country-bumpkin Morpeko all over again. The horizon is dotted with numerous skyscrapers that stretch so high you have to crane your neck just to look up properly. Blown away by the view, you open up the brochure you took from one of the stands near the ticket kiosk and pull out the map.

"Hm, let's see. Casteliacone shop - nope. Art Museum - nope. Aha! The hospital is somewhere in Mode Street." You mutter, whilst Raihan takes selfies of himself in all manner of poses and from all possible angles. You fold the map back up, slotting it into your bag, "Rai, are you done taking pictures? We need to go."

He puts his phone away, trailing after you; he's occupied with looking at the scenery and sights but stays close. You know he wants to sightsee now that you're here.

Luckily, the ship operates a left luggage service so you leave your suitcases and you can collect them later. You begin your journey to the hospital with your gift card and gift basket in hand, dodging the businessmen and tourists alike who are running up and down the streets in a hurried fashion. And here you thought Kanto's cycling route was bad. This is worse - even though there's not a bike in sight.

You do your best to avoid people by darting left and right but it's inevitable that you end up bumping into a few folk along the way. As you continue down the frantic street with Raihan, you see how manic it is - triathletes run with their Hitmonlee, parasol ladies are walking their Furfrous and Manectrics, a cleaner hoses down windows with his Quagsire team and a small group of construction workers takes up half the sidewalk with Gurdurrs and Hariyamas.  It's so lively here but space is limited, making you feel that you take Galar and the sparse Wild Area for granted.

You could also get a taxi but the street is just two blocks ahead and when you finally arrive, you're panting and you see that the hospital is a standalone building and you and Raihan enter; it's as busy as the streets outside with Chanseys and Blisseys rushing around. Your friend's mother has given you the ward number beforehand so you follow the signs and ride the elevator up, stepping out once you reach the correct floor.

You register at the counter and hurry in, spotting your friend's mother, her Bellsprout and a familiar purple-haired young man standing a bed by the window, conversing quietly. Once they spot you however, they stop discussing and wave to you immediately.

"Leon?" Raihan says, stunned by the Champion's presence here.

"Hey, Raihan." Leon replies, before he greets you also. You greet him in response; it's nice to see that he's not in his Champion gear - he's wearing a plain white sweater with a Charizard on the front, dark blue jeans and white sneakers. A black snapback with a red motif sits atop his fluffy hair.

"What are you doing here?"

"My friend was meant to be introduced to Leon." You quickly explain, though you're surprised to see that Leon actually came to visit.

"Yep, that's right." Leon replies, grinning.

Your friend's mother smiles widely also as you introduce Raihan to her. "Thanks for coming. This means so much to her."

Everyone glances at the bed where your friend is lying still, eyes closed. She looks terrible - her entire right leg is bandaged and hoisted up in the air by a sling attached to the ceiling, and she has a brace around her neck. It hurts you to see her like this; your friend is a good person. Why do bad things happen to good people? You move to join her mother, sitting beside her on the spare chair. "....How is she?"

"She's stable now; she's in a lot better condition than a few days ago and the doctor says she'll make a full recovery."

You breathe a sigh of relief, "What happened?"

"A car hit her when she was crossing the street and drove off. The police are looking into the incident. I called her workplace and they've decided to let her go. They said they can't afford the statutory sick pay because they don't know when she will wake up."

Your nose scrunches up with revulsion. You knew your friend didn't like her work and the company sounded awful, but you didn't realise they'd be this dodgy, either.

She nods gently, sighing under her breath. "...I'm afraid there isn't much we can do. We'll just need to wait for her to wake up, but...never mind, she is better off not working for that dreadful company any longer. I was getting so worried."

"I think so too." You mutter. Maybe it's a sign?

"Anyway, how are you, dear?"

"I'm fine; I brought a gift." You reply, holding up your gift basket and card and as you place it down on the bedside table, you chat with your friend's mother for a brief moment whilst Leon and Raihan talk quietly in one corner.

Unfortunately, you can't afford to stay any longer due to your flight to Johto so you say your goodbyes, your friend's mother thanks you again for taking the time to visit and you wish your friend a speedy recovery. She doesn't budge in any way, completely unresponsive. After the visit's over, you leave the hospital with Raihan; Leon will be staying put in Castelia for a while, which makes you happy considering you thought it was a shame that your friend didn't get to meet him yet he's come to visit.

Hand in hand, you and Raihan make your way towards the direction of the ship where you will collect your suitcases before heading off to the airport.

"I hope your friend gets better." Raihan says, noticing your forlorn expression.

"Me too. Thanks for coming with me." You murmur, "And it's nice of Leon to visit, I didn't think he would."

"Mn, I agree."

"I hope they go together," You add, smiling, "I have a good feeling about them."

...

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch15

Yup, this beast is still going and still growing.  Life sapped my energy so it has been a lot longer between updates than I would have liked but I’ve been experimenting with writing out of sequence to make use of whatever creativity I can grasp.  The plus side of this is that ch16 is in the editing stages and ch17 is also half written.  But anyway....it’s taken a while but here is ch15 in the saga that has become affectionately termed ‘Bad Jeff’.

@willow-salix has been wonderful at helping be fix the plot holes and pick out the parts where I contradicted myself.  I now have a proper timeline though (funky multicoloured spreadsheet and everything) so I shouldn’t tie myself in knots so much with the boys ages and milestones.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Fifteen

The incoming call notification had Virgil scrambling for his phone, fumbling with the handset while trying to swipe a call accept icon that suddenly seemed too small and fiddly to be practical.  It took him three hasty attempts before managing to complete the action correctly, allowing him to finally speak to the brother who had been frustratingly out of contact.  Scott had been in LA for three days and Virgil was now desperate for news but he had promised he wouldn’t interfere lest he call at the wrong moment and inflame matters further.  It had been a nail-biting wait, forcing himself to be patient and trust Scott to call when he could.

“Scott, how is it?”  It took him a moment to register that the face on the screen wasn’t Scott’s despite what the caller ID proclaimed.  “Gordon?”  He was surprised to see a younger brother rather than an older one.

“Don’t sound so pleased to see me.”  There was an air of the old teasing Gordon making a slow return.

“Sorry.   Of course I’m pleased to see you,” and he genuinely was, the face that looked back at him was still too thin and pale for comfort but the hair was clean again and the eyes had lost their haunted glaze, “I just wasn’t expecting it.  Where’s Scott?”

“He’s here too.”  The scene on Virgil’s screen shifted quickly as the handset at the other end was spun round to reveal its rightful owner who gave a little wave.  “He said he was going to call you so I asked if I could go first.”

“Well, how are you?”

“I’m....okay.”  Virgil had made him promise in the past not to lie about how he was feeling, it was one of the reasons he had been pulling away; it didn’t count as lying if you just omitted the truth.  “It’s been a strange few days.”

“I’ll bet.”

“For a start I’ve found out that flyboy over there gets ever so twitchy if anyone else is at the controls of a plane.  You’d best hope you never have to take him as a passenger in that bumble bee of yours if it ever gets off the drawing board.  Or was it more like a turtle, that beast was green wasn’t it?”  The look of fear that crossed Virgil’s face would have been comical if it wasn’t so genuine and Gordon was given the sudden reminder that, as far as Virgil was concerned, he wasn’t meant to know about their father’s vision.  He was quick with his reassurances.  “It’s okay, Dad told me about his rescue plans”

“He still won’t tell Alan though” Scott called out from across the room, “Dad has taken him out to fetch ice cream so we can talk freely for a few minutes.”

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah,  I think he’s just trying to cover some of his own guilt.  He’s still no Dad of the year though.”  Scott's tone was derisive and Virgil could tell that tensions must still be running high.  “He’s going to have to tell him sooner or later, he can’t just spring it on the kid that he is being dragged out of school and shunted across the world when the island move happens.”

“What, you mean like he gave us time to prepare for the move to LA?”  Gordon snorted.  “I don’t know about you guys but me and Alan didn’t exactly get much warning when we left Kansas.”

This surprised the older two who had known all about the plan, the many arguments were etched in their memories.  In this case the problem child had been John.  Scott had been making the transition from university to the Air Force and Virgil had been busy preparing for his studies at Denver but John had been on a path that didn’t align with their father’s business plans.  The fifteen year old, with a coveted place at Harvard nearly in his grasp, had begged to stay so he could finish high school without interruptions; he had worked hard to stay two grades ahead of the curve and an inter-state move could undo it all.  Of course letting John live alone had been out of the question, and Jeff had not been prepared to delay the move, leading to  flares of temper and defiance that none of them had realised the middle child was capable of.  It was only when Grandma stepped in, offering to return from New Mexico to become custodian of the farm and care for John during that final year that their father relented.  With all of the concerns over John and his university dreams it hadn’t occurred to either of them that the youngest two hadn’t been told about the move.  Evidently their father’s policy of ‘need to know’ was long running. 

“Don’t worry Gords, Scott and I will make sure that Alan gets told.  If Dad’s idea happens, and knowing Dad it probably will, Alan won’t just have another move sprung on him.  I promise.”  There was sincere honesty in those deep brown eyes and Gordon gave a subtle nod of thanks.  “So tell me everything that has been happening over the last few days.”

Gordon recounted everything that had happened since Scott’s arrival, prompted by said older brother if he missed anything out.  Virgil winced at the revelations.  Even with the sanitised highlights he could tell that the last few days had been an emotional rollercoaster.  In some cases the revelations were beyond his worst fears and he couldn’t help feeling proud of his little brother who had been living through harder circumstances than any of them had imagined.

“Which brings us to today,” Gordon brought the tale up to the present, “Dad’s decided I need to learn to fly seeing as this island he’s chosen isn’t exactly on the commercial air routes.  Alan’s going to start learning too; Dad wasn’t happy about that idea but Scott reminded him that he started learning at Alan’s age.  You should have seen him up there, Alan is an absolute natural.”  Gordon’s voice glowed with pride at the achievements of his little brother.

“You didn’t do badly yourself” Scott cut in from across the room.

“So why were your knuckles white the whole time?”

“Hey, as you said, I just like being the one in control.  It was no different when Dad was piloting and he’s clocked up more flight hours than the rest of us put together.”

“I can just imagine it” Virgil snorted, “you should’ve seen him supervising John when he was learning to drive.”

Gordon glanced across at Scott who had visibly paled at the memory, before turning his attention back to Virgil. “So yeah, I’ve now got to fit in pilot training and exams around getting back up to strength for WASP selection.”

“And WASP is definitely what you want?  You aren’t just going along with it so you can get away from Dad?  I know you’ll be able to do it, but please don’t enlist unless you’re really sure.”

Gordon wasn’t sure if that was the concerned older brother or the family pacifist speaking; WASP was still military after all and Virgil had made no secrets of his thoughts in that direction.  But equally Virgil knew how stubborn he was and how he would never back down from a challenge and had managed to resolve his difference with Scott over the Air Force so he chalked the questions up to brotherly concern.

“Yeah, I’m sure.  It’s a good life Virg, something I can really make a career out of and the opportunities for officers…”

“Officer?” This definitely surprised the distant sibling.  The widened eyes elicited a slight blush from Gordon.

“Um, yeah, that was Scott’s idea.”  He was still having a little trouble reconciling himself to the notion that he was cut out to lead.  

“Not just my idea” said brother called out from his perch on the bed, “the Marineville lot wanted to transfer you to officer training too.  This time round you’ll just be applying for the officer steam from the beginning.”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,”  Gordon shot Scott a glare of mock indignation, earning a chuckle from Virgil “it’s a good life.  And yes, this time I’ll be trying out as an officer.  I’ll have to redo the aptitude tests, different benchmarks and all that, but we’ve been looking into it and my scores were already at the right level.  There’s just one additional aptitude test for officers that I never took before.  I’ve tried an online practice test and did ok so I should be alright.  I’m booked in to take it for real in a fortnight.  After that it’s selection at Marineville again and then hopefully I’m in.  It’ll take a few months but by the summer I should have my first posting.  The officer intakes don’t happen as frequently as junior ranks so I’ve got time to train.”

“You seem to have it all mapped out and not a college course in sight.”

“Nope.  Thanks, both of you.  It’s...it’s been a hard few months and I couldn’t see a way out of it all.”

There was a noticeable slump in Gordon’s posture and the light went out of his eyes as the memories of his recent trials flooded back in.  It broke Virgil’s heart to see how on a knife edge his brother still was and he knew he and Scott would need to keep a close eye on their younger sibling for a long while yet.  At least Gordon had a goal to work towards again; they both knew his steely determination and drive to succeed. Once he had set his sights on a challenge nothing would stop him, the Olympics had proved that.

“Any time.  And don’t be a stranger.  If Dad starts getting on your case again or you just need to talk to someone you know where I am.  I’ve been told my couch is pretty comfy too if this new schedule of training and flying lessons allows you any time off.”

“Admit it, you just want me back for my cooking” Gordon smirked.

“Maybe…” Virgil gave his best puppy dog eyes, eliciting a chuckle from both his brothers.

Any further chatter was interrupted by the sound of the apartment door crashing open, announcing the return of Jeff and Alan from the grocery store, followed by Alan’s shouts that if they didn’t get out there quick there would be no chocolate chip left for them.  Both knew better than to treat this as an idle threat so with a hurried goodbye to Virgil they departed to claim their portions.

 xoxoxox

Life soon settled into a new routine.  Jeff still rarely made it back for dinner, they couldn’t expect miracles over night, but he was getting better at being home before Alan went to bed at least.  Gordon suspected that had something to do with the ‘discussion’ Scott had with Jeff the night before he returned to his Air Force base.  The voices that drifted through the firmly shut study door had shown a flare of temper from both sides and Gordon had been grateful Alan was already in bed and so not around to witness the argument.  It was just as well Tracys were good at putting on a front, by the morning of Scott’s departure the tension had been firmly suppressed and Alan had been able to say goodbye to his eldest brother without any hint of bad feeling spoiling the moment. 

Where life before the Olympics had been a mix of school and swimming, so life for Gordon going forwards became a mix of physical training and flight theory with time in the air thrown in at the weekends.   He passed the WASP officer aptitude test easily enough but the next available selection course date wasn’t until after his birthday, leaving him with several months to focus on gaining the appropriate endorsements on his pilot’s licence to allow him to transport himself to and from his father’s intended island base.  

Gordon wasn’t bad at flying but he didn’t possess the raw natural talent of his youngest sibling.  He was competent and thorough with a steady hand but he couldn’t miss the looks of pride Jeff directed towards Alan as yet again the youngest of the family performed a manoeuvre as if he had been at the control yoke since birth.  It didn’t stop at looks either, all too often Gordon found himself on the receiving end of an unfavourable comparison only this time it was against his younger brother as opposed to his older ones and the arena was cockpit rather than classroom performance.  Evidently, for Jeff, old habits were hard to quell.

This time though Gordon wasn’t facing his troubles alone.  Scott would check in with him occasionally until an overseas posting took him out of contact but Virgil was his real lifeline.  Virgil made sure there was never more than a week between calls and often the gaps were smaller if he sensed Gordon slipping back and becoming more distant.  The brother who had taken on the role of counselor seemed to have an uncanny intuition when it came to Gordon’s mood.   

The extended time around his father however was still proving difficult and Gordon found himself eagerly boarding a flight to Denver to catch a much needed break.

As ever, Virgil was there to meet him at the airport.

“Good flight?”

“It was ok.”

“Not tempted to crash the cockpit then?”

Gordon just rolled his eyes and carried on out to the taxi ranks.  To his surprise though Virgil directed the cab to take them to the smaller private airfield out of town rather than the apartment.

“Sorry Gords” he got in response to his querying look.  “You know Dad said you gotta keep up your air time and this was the only runway slot I could get.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the deal.”  One of the conditions of a weekend with Virgil was that he got some time in the sky to make up for the lesson he was missing with his father.  “Are you alright with me taking up your baby?”

“I trust you” Virgil shrugged.  He wasn’t quite as in love with and overprotective of his plane as Scott was of his, but neither was he going to let on to Gordon that he had had a long and in depth discussion with their father about Gordon’s ability and competence before he had agreed to help with Gordon’s pilot education.

Gordon always thought it odd that Virgil had a plane but didn’t bother to run his own car, although the longer he spent in the air the more he could see the appeal.  Scott of course had always loved flight and it was no surprise to anyone that a big proportion of his allowance went on maintaining a craft that screamed billionaire playboy.  Virgil’s choice was more subtle and practical, if operating your own private plane counted as practical; perfect for hopping around the country from his central base in Denver to visit family on his own schedule.  Despite also being in possession of big enough allowance to afford it John had neither car nor plane having declared that flying commercial was much more sensible for his main coast to coast journey and he wasn’t one for pleasure flying; he was much more interested in what lay outside the atmosphere, far beyond the reach of a mere plane.

At the airfield Virgil maneuvered his little hopper out of the hanger he stored her in and then passed control over to Gordon.

“Go on then, show me what you can do” Virgil prompted after giving Gordon a quick rundown of the specific take off speed and other essential details he would need to operate the plane safely.  He settled back in the co-pilot's chair, exuding a calm confidence despite itching to keep his hands on the controls; Gordon might be his brother and Jeff had given assurances that all would be well but Virgil was still uncomfortably aware that he has supervising an unlicensed novice pilot.  

His fears were soon dispelled once Gordon started going through the motions in textbook fashion including performing his own pre-flight checks despite having watched those same checks being performed just a few minutes earlier.  A short burst down the runway and they were up in the air.  It wasn’t graceful and Gordon lacked the finesse that came with experience but Virgil was pleasantly surprised at the amount of  progress Gordon had made in such a short space of time.

The problem with flying though is that unless you are practicing something like aerobatics then just keeping a plane in the air is actually pretty easy, it’s the take off and landing that takes skill.  They weren’t making a journey so there was no real navigation to do beyond avoiding the restricted airspace and corridors used by the commercial flights and the weather was clear so flying by instruments was unnecessary.  All in all it was a thoroughly untaxing lesson, allowing them to relax and enjoy the time together.

“So how’s your project going?” Gordon asked as he banked to avoid flying directly over a village.

“It’s okay.  I’m on track to be done by the summer.”

“What will you do after that?  Move back to LA or stay out here?”

“Neither, hopefully.”  Gordon gave his brother a questioning glance of surprise.  “Got to get space rated for Dad’s project.  Me and John’ll be heading out to Tracy College for that, just waiting for confirmation of a course place.”

“Space rated?”  He had realised John would need to undergo astronaut training in preparation for life on a space station but most of the project specifics were still a mystery to him.

“Yeah.  Someone’s got to be able to play taxi service for John and I might need to take a rotation on call monitoring; he can’t live off planet forever.”

“Sounds like plans are really coming together for it.  Does this mean Scott will need to get space rated at Tracy College too?”

“Scott…”  There was a heavy pause and Gordon took his eye off the sky to regard his brother.  Virgil’s brow had furrowed into a frown and when he spoke again there was a heaviness that told of hidden arguments.  “Scott isn’t joining, he’s sticking to the Air Force.”

This surprised Gordon.  In the few conversations he had had with his father about the project, usually confined to a cockpit where Alan couldn’t overhear, Scott was talked about like Virgil was, as a committed member of the team. His role as first responder and pilot of the envisioned rocket plane had been presented in terms of undisputed fact.  No wonder the topic made Virgil look stormy, he was a peacemaker and if Scott wasn’t fitting in with their father’s vision Gordon could imagine that the arguments had been many and explosive.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.  Oh.”

“So what’s going to happen there?  Surely you can’t manage with just the three of you?”

“I don’t know.  I’d like to think there is a contingency plan but Dad seems so sure Scott’s going to change his mind and do it.  They’re both as stubborn as mules though and neither wants to give up their dream.  It’s a good project, the tech looks amazing and we could really save lives.  I can see Scott’s point though, he’s made a life for himself away from Dad and, well, you know yourself what Dad can be like for giving orders.”

Gordon knew all too well what it felt like to be on the receiving end of those orders, particularly when they were at odds with your own plans.  At least Scott had the advantage of physical distance as a buffer to the disapproval and if push came to shove, if Jeff cut Scott off as punishment, the Air Force pay was enough to live on even if it meant Scott had to change his lifestyle to suit the lower budget.

Gordon made the final approach back towards the airfield, diverting the full attention of both brothers to monitoring the landing.  As with the take off it wasn’t polished and it wasn’t pretty but it was safe and Virgil found himself once again admiring just how far his brother had come in such a short space of time.  He wondered if, given time, Gordon would join the team.  Jeff hadn’t made any mention of Gordon taking on a role in the rescue organisation, even if he was now allowed to know of its existence, but there was no denying that having an extra pilot on books could only be a good thing.  Maybe one day he and Gordon would fly together, the more time he spent with his brother the more he enjoyed the company although, Virgil reflected, if they were to fly as a team he would be happier if Gordon took the co-pilot’s position.

With the plane back on the ground and safely returned to her berth in the hangers Virgil pushed all thoughts of Gordon joining the rescue business out of his mind; unless their father issued the instruction there was no point even considering the option.  And anyway, Gordon was heading off to the military like Scott had so who knew if he would even want to join the project.  Better to just let their father know that the required flying lesson had gone without a hitch then settle back to enjoy the weekend. 

[thetimelesscycle]

Tales of Arcadia Wizards Fanfiction: Hope Dies Last - Chapter 8

Douxie receives a much needed reprieve.

A/N: Happy holidays, everyone. I hope you have all had an enjoyable time catching up with family/friends as you are able and that you are all staying safe.

This particular chapter had no less than six different versions. Not different edits, six entirely different 2,000-3,000 word scenes that I went back and forth between like a ping pong ball before deciding we needed a low-action option and using the original. Hopefully the rest of that stuff will be worked in somewhere else, or it's just 10,000 words or so of change that can sit in the drafts portion and stare at me accusingly as it never sees the light of day.

I also just want to give everyone a heads up that I am on vacation for the next few weeks. That will either mean I get extra chapters done in my newfound free time, or I will be swallowed by the void that is catching up on everything you can't do when working and there will be no writing done at all. Just in case I disappear off the planet for a few weeks. ;-)

Chapter 8

And After the Apocalypse, it's Nap Time

Douxie awoke and immediately regretted doing so. He had apparently offended every single muscle in his body before tumbling into bed the night before, and there was not an inch of him that did not hurt with a vengeance. He hadn’t felt this terrible since… well,  the last time he died, he supposed, which was really not something one should be making a habit out of. At least he’d found somewhere decent to sleep. If he hurt this much after lying on a soft mattress all night, he could only imagine how painful today would have been with a couch spring or three digging into his back.

“Douxie?” A careful weight settled on his stomach. “Are you awake?”

“No.” He croaked and winced. Even his throat was sore. “That seems like a terrible idea right now.”

Archie chuckled softly, settling more firmly into place. “At least your sense of humour is intact.”

“I wasn’t joking.” Squinting his eyes open, he glared half-heartedly into Archie’s inescapable gaze. There was something there that made him pause, the intimate knowledge of centuries spent together, and he swallowed painfully before asking. “How long?”

“About a day,” the dragon’s response was subdued, thick with concern. “You’ve been drifting in and out. I think you had the old man worried.”

For a terrifying moment, that sentence was entirely incomprehensible to the young wizard. The memories reasserted themselves with a vengeance before he could blankly ask his familiar what he was talking about, and he felt his blood run cold as his hand crept unwittingly to rest against his chest, breath escaping him in a soft ‘oh’.

“How do you feel?” Archie moved his paws to rest atop his wizard’s hand. “Any pain at all?”

“No, I...” His body hurt, yes, like he’d gone three rounds with the enchanted broom and then tripped down the stairs. That wasn’t what Archie meant, though. “I’m alright. A little shaky maybe, but then I guess I haven’t eaten, so—”

“Please, don’t.” He stopped abruptly at hearing the reproach in those words, Archie’s round eyes looking at him with a wounded expression. “Don’t make light. You scared me, Douxie. I didn’t know what was happening or how to help.”

“I’m sorry.” An apology probably wasn’t what Archie was looking for. The words were habitual enough he said them anyway, reaching to lay both hands against the dragon’s back in way of comfort. “I really am alright, though, I promise.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Master!” In retrospect, sitting bolt upright in response to Merlin’s entrance into the room probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. Not the stupidest, either, but it definitely ranked up there. “Oooh, buckets.”

Hands, not paws, grabbed a hold of him before he could join the room in its wild spinning, and he spent a good few seconds being absurdly grateful he hadn’t eaten anything. He very much doubted Merlin would have appreciated his stomach’s reaction to the movement otherwise.

“Careful, Hisirdoux!” the Master Wizard admonished, easing him back to rest against the wall in a semi-upright position. Archie had taken the opportunity to stack pillows behind him, and settled in his lap again as soon as he was stable. Merlin’s hands lingered a little longer than they needed to, the fleeting touch of gentle magic preceding his withdrawal.

“You never do things the easy way, do you?” He turned away before Douxie could figure out whether he was supposed to be apologising for the trouble, returning almost immediately with a chalice that was pressed firmly into his unsteady hands. “Sip this. Slowly. We’ll talk when you’re done.”

For once, it seemed easier to simply do as he was told. Under Archie’s watchful eye, he took a mouthful of the cup’s contents, realising as soon as it passed his lips that it was more than just water. There was a sweet aftertaste, followed almost at once by the easing of the more immediate aches and pains. Unable to hold back a sigh of relief, he settled a little further into the pillows, finishing the rest of the potion whilst watching his master rifle through the various tomes spread across his desk.

The Master Wizard was mumbling discontentedly to himself, a sure sign of his agitation. Cringing inwardly at the thought of the lecture that was surely brewing, he was almost tempted to pretend he was still drinking. Unfortunately, Merlin’s gaze landed on him again as soon as he’d taken the last sip, his master bustling back to the bedside to loom in judgement. 

Archie must have felt him tensing, for he glanced up at Merlin in irritation. “Must you?” 

Rolling his eyes, Merlin liberated the empty cup from Douxie’s lax fingers, setting it aside before pulling up a chair that made his presence a little less intimidating. Douxie caught himself fidgeting with his empty hands, a bad habit he really should have broken after all this time, and swiftly moved to stroke Archie’s back instead.

“So…” Best to get it over and done with. This wasn’t the Merlin who had learned to trust him, for better or for worse. “How much trouble am I in, then?”

“Trouble?” Merlin gave him an incredulous look. “You just spent two days on your deathbed, and another completely unresponsive as your own magic tried to piece you back together. Given the circumstances, I hardly think a lecture from me is going to help.”

“It might.” He probably shouldn’t have said that. Too late to take it back now. “You never know.”

“I will keep that in mind.” The words were so dry you could have used them as tinder. “How are you feeling? And don’t spin me the same story you just did your dragon friend. It may have been nine hundred years for you, but you are still as terrible a liar as you ever were.”

“Yes, well, some people might consider that a good thing.”

“Hisirdoux.”

He hadn’t realised until now how much he had missed his old master. They had had their disagreements, polarising views that had only grown worse after Merlin’s slumber and all those years on his own to fend for himself. The old wizard was still the closest thing he had to a father, and his absence had been felt in every successive catastrophe that had followed his death.

“I feel like I let you down.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he didn’t really have any choice from there but to continue. “You trusted me to protect Nari, but she’s the one who ended up saving me. I don’t even know if the rest of my friends made it out alive. Skrael and Bellroc have probably already opened the Seals in the future, and by the time I figure out how to get back there everyone I know will already be gone.” 

“Hmm.” That was all he got for a long moment, which was neither particularly helpful nor reassuring. “Given up already, have you?”

“What? No! I mean, of course I want to fix it, I just don’t see how.”

“Good.” Merlin nodded as though a decision had been reached. “Once we have exhausted all possible avenues of action and find we cannot undo this calamity of yours, then, and only then, will we talk about your failures. For now, I suggest you focus on regaining your strength.”

“Really?” Zoe would have slapped him upside the head if she’d found him fishing for criticism, but he was finding it hard to believe Merlin had nothing to say on the matter. Merlin always had something to say. “That’s it?”

“Hisirdoux...” Merlin sighed, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. It dawned on his apprentice that the Master Wizard actually looked tired. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that before, battles with Morgana and centuries of slumber notwithstanding. Before he could open his mouth to express his concern, Merlin had reached out in a rare display to lay a hand on his shoulder. “What has happened has happened. After what you went through to end up here, I hardly think there is anything I can add that you haven’t already figured out for yourself. The important thing is to decide what we are going to do next. For that, we need to get you back on your feet.”

The urge was there to close the distance between them. It had been a terrible last few days, on top of a terrible last few months, and the worn down, exhausted part of him just wanted to reclaim the comfort of that brief embrace they had shared whilst lingering on the edge of the afterlife. But this wasn’t that Merlin; No matter how much Douxie might have wished otherwise, his master was gone. He was just borrowing the body and the life of his younger self, ruining his own childhood in new and exciting ways. He really hoped he didn’t remember any of this later. At the rate he was going, he’d be lucky if he wasn’t a raving lunatic by the time he made it back to the future.

“Alright.” Realising Merlin was still awaiting a verbal response, he stuffed that urge and the distracting lump in his throat back down as far as they would go. “What’s the plan, then?”

“Rest.” Merlin squeezed his shoulder before moving his hand away. “Recover. The damage the Arcane Order caused has been halted in its tracks for now, but the cracks remain. You will need to be careful not to overexert yourself, and extremely cautious in how you use your magic. Morgana has already managed one miracle; I will not risk needing another.”

“Where is Morgana?” He was almost afraid to ask. In hindsight, telling the pair of them as much as he had about the future was probably not the wisest thing he could have done in his situation. He was humble enough to admit that. At the time — shock thrumming through his veins and fresh from the adrenaline of being torn apart and put back together — he hadn’t really been in a good frame of mind for rational decision making. That was no excuse for dropping the sorceress in the deep end, though. Not when he knew how Merlin could be. “I owe her a ‘thank you’ for saving my life.”

“She has not been cast into the dungeon, if that is what you are afraid of.” Merlin gave him a knowing look. “Seeing the future is a dangerous business, and anyone who acts on that knowledge without proper forethought is a fool. I will admit you caught me off guard — the time map has never so much as hinted at Morgana’s fate — but she has nothing to fear from me until she chooses to make herself a threat.”

“Good.” It was a weight off his shoulders, if only one of the smallest burdens resting there. “Because I have a feeling we are going to need her help.”

“As do I,” Merlin agreed. “We will discuss it further when I return. I have a meeting with Arthur I have already delayed too long. The servants will bring you up something to eat in a little while. Do not leave the tower without either myself or Morgana accompanying you. Do you understand?”

“But, Master—”

“Don’t, Hisirdoux.” It was not the customary response, stern and reinforced by the expression on the elder wizard’s face. He flinched slightly in spite of himself; Merlin was not yet done. “Arthur is still furious over what happened. It is best you stay well out of sight until things have calmed down. We also have no way of knowing if any of the Arcane Order accompanied you on your little trip through time. If that conglomeration of magic sent you back, they might have followed, and they will be hunting you. Stay in the tower. That is an order.”

He didn’t wait for an acknowledgement before making his exit, closing the door firmly behind him and plunging the room into a brief silence.

Archie broke it with a sigh. “I suspect he didn’t mean that to sound quite as angry as it did. You gave us all a fright.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” At least Archie had never minded being used as a living, breathing teddy bear. He let himself indulge in that weakness for a moment, closing his eyes as he held the familiar as tightly as was comfortable for them both. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

He was expecting the usual, quick response. What he got instead was a subdued, “Douxie…”

Surprised, he opened his eyes to meet his familiar’s gaze. He knew that look, and he wasn’t standing for it. “It wasn’t your fault, Arch.”

“I saw what happened.” Archie shook his head. “You were holding your own until I went and got careless. I’m your familiar, I’m supposed to help you, not nearly get you killed.”

“We’re supposed to help each other, Arch. If that’s the way we’re measuring it, I let you down first.”

“Douxie—”

“No. It wasn’t your fault. You’re not allowed to think that it is.”

The dragon huffed at him, not looking wholly convinced, but at least a little less guilty. That transformed into alarm a moment later when Douxie started peeling back the blanket.

“What are you doing?”

Freezing halfway through the motion, he blinked at his familiar. “Um... Getting out of bed?” 

“Merlin said—”

“Not to leave the tower. And I’m not. I just want to get up.”

“The last time you did that you destroyed Merlin’s stock of potions,” Archie moved aside to let him rise, but not without comment. “And the time before you nearly cracked your skull open whilst rearranging all the furniture in our room.”

He touched his head on instinct, frowning when his fingers brushed against the healing lump there. He had been hoping Archie was exaggerating. “Extenuating circumstances?”

“Such as your soul being scattered across time?” Archie dropped to the floor as Douxie sat up on his own, watching him warily as he rested a hand against the bedpost and eased himself slowly to his feet. “I suppose I can allow it. You’re going to have to come up with a better excuse than that for all the other messes you caused, though.”

“Fuzzbuckets. What else did I do?” His legs were slightly wobbly, but they held. He transferred his hand from the bed to the wall before cautiously taking a step, Archie shadowing him.

“I’m not sure you really want to know.”

He managed another three steps without falling on his face, though it was taking more effort than he felt it should. “That sounds bad.”

“Somewhat.” Satisfied he was steady enough to remain upright, Archie took to the air so he could open the door into the workshop, saving Douxie the effort of juggling himself and the latch. “At least you didn’t accidentally turn anyone into a toad, I suppose.”

Belatedly catching on to the teasing note in his familiar’s voice, Douxie cast the smug dragon a dark glare. “You’re an ass, Arch.”

Archie chuckled quietly, and Douxie finished his unsteady march across the bedchamber in silence, slipping into the workshop and sitting on the nearest pile of books he could find.

“I told you you should have stayed in bed,” Archie grumbled, settling at his feet. “It’s not like we have anywhere we need to be.”

That was true, technically. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that sitting still was a mistake. That he should be doing something, anything besides lazing about his master’s quarters all day. Unfortunately, Merlin wasn’t likely to set him loose when he couldn’t even make it across a room without feeling like he needed another nap, so whatever it was would have to wait for now.

Glancing about the workshop in an effort to look more alert than he really was, he froze as he caught sight of the worn lute propped in the corner. Archie followed his gaze, not needing an uttered word to dart across the room and retrieve it for him. His voice only wobbled slightly as he thanked his familiar, waiting for Archie to shift forms and settle into place on his lap before positioning the instrument and letting his fingers wander across the strings.

He was a little rusty; It was a long time since he’d owned a lute, more familiar now with the instruments of the 21st Century than the 12th, but the weight was comforting nonetheless, and it only took a few minutes for his fingers to remember the old patterns. The melody filled the otherwise quiet space of Merlin’s workshop, Archie adding a gentle rumble to what was a softer tune than he would normally have chosen. It seemed right for this moment; A much needed chance to pause and regain his breath before diving back into the fray.  

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 12

Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault

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I never actually told Steve what happened that night. I don’t think I had to; the mascara stains on my cheeks and the bruises on my neck spoke volumes.

The fact that Billy was the cause didn’t require any mind games to work out; everyone knew we’d been alone together, even Steve, and it didn’t take much to bridge the gaps.

Still; Steve never asked questions. I was thankful for that; didn’t need to know details, just knew his friend needed him right now and that was enough.

I hardly ever cried. I only think Steve had actually witnessed it once since we met; and that was when dad stopped taking his meds, the first anniversary of when Sara died and everything seemed to be falling apart around us.

He’d held me then; thirteen years old with death a foreign concept reserved for long forgotten grandparents and fish you won at the fair.

He didn’t know what to say to me back then; didn’t even understand why I was so upset.

So he just sat there with me behind the dumpsters in middle school, petting my hair and telling me that everything was gonna be alright; even though he was in no position to be making those sorts of promises.

I guess he did the same now; cradling me close to him like I was fragile like glass, lips braced on my hair to try and kiss away the worry and regret.

I knew Steve assumed the worse.

That what Billy had done to me hadn’t been reciprocated; that somehow his actions had been forced upon me.

The word ‘rape’ swam around both our heads; the word tasting dirty in my mouth, not quite fitting what had happened between me and Billy.

Was he pushy? Yes.

And did I regret what happened? Yes.

But I’d enjoyed it. I’d begged for it at the time, and somehow that felt worse than if I hadn’t wanted it at all.

I felt dirty; like I was lying to my closest friend, luxuriating in his sympathy whilst the evidence of my sin still left my thighs tacky beneath my skirt.

Fifteen minutes later; Steve had dropped me home in near silence, worry still there on his face, but no where as near as prominent as before.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” He asked; taking note of the absence of my dad’s truck.

“I’m sure.” I responded; undoing my seatbelt and picking up my discarded leather jacket from the floor.

“Are you sure? Because you could always come back to mine tonight and drive home tomorrow.” He offered; no implication or undertone in his petition, just a warm desire to see me safe.

“I’ll be fine; Steve.” I insisted with a half hearted smile, staring into those worry filled doe eyes.

“Okay.” He relented with a sigh, running a hand through his thick hair as I began to climb out of the car.

“But if you need to talk or anything; just call me, alright?” Steve continued to press, those deep brown eyes still staring at me as I shrugged my jacket on in a vain attempt to hide the purpling marks on my neck and chest.

“I know; Steve.” I replied, leaning across the passenger seat to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you.” I said, and for once, I was sincere. Steve had been a sweetheart; no bones about it, and I was grateful for that.

I left him in the car then, slamming the door shut behind me before I made my way up the porch steps.

“Hey Lo...” Steve called after me, and I turned, watching him hang out a now open window to talk to me.

“Yeah?” I asked, wondering what was going on beneath all that hair that left him so serious.

“Goodnight...” He said, even though for a moment, I thought he might say something else entirely.

“Goodnight” I smiled back, turning back to my door and pretended to be searching my pockets for my keys.

I waited till the I heard the hum of his engine spark up, then fade as he disappeared back into the woods; and once again, I was glad that Steve’s sense of chivalry only went so far, especially when he knew I’d take it as an insult if he offered to “walk me to the door”.

Knowing that I was once again alone, I lifted my hand to the door and knocked.

Knock knock.... knock knock knock.... knock.

I waited, listening to the sounds of owls hooting and the wind blowing; a true signifier on just how isolated we were out here.

When I’d told Steve that me and dad were packing up and moving into the wilderness, he gave me a look like I’d just told him I was planning on running away and join the circus.

He thought my dad had lost it again; gone into a paranoid survival mode like you saw in movies, trying to lock away his family for ‘the end of the world’.

I had to reassure him that no; dad hadn’t lost his shit again, and no; I didn’t need to come move in with him until my dad was done playing Bigfoot.

I’d even had to break my dad’s favourite rule of secrecy, letting Steve drop me off and pick me up from the cabin, though my dad would never let him inside.

Steve just took it that my dad didn’t trust him with me; something that wasn’t all too surprising considering his chilly attitude towards Steve in the past.

Steve still had no idea of the real reason he couldn’t step inside my house.

“El; it’s Lola.” I called; noting that a couple of minutes had passed and she hadn’t come to answer the door. Probably pissed at my dad and planning to make him suffer for it.

I heard the click of locks opening, then the door swung open. I stepped inside, noting that despite the sound of TV murmuring, El was nowhere to be seen.

My eyes spied the long black cable of the TV set, following it as it trailed across the living room and up to Eleven’s closed door, disappearing beneath.

The kid had balls; I’d give her that; the corners of my mouth almost rising into a smile when I’d realised that the Hopper pettiness was apparently also contagious.

Almost; then I was reminded of the stickiness in my underwear, my stomach tensing as I realised I needed to clean myself up urgently.

—————————————————

It didn’t seem to matter how scolding I made the water; how hard I scrubbed my skin, I just couldn’t get the feeling of Billy’s hands on me to go away.

I was probably gonna end up using up all the hot water at this point. Dad was gonna be pissed, but you know what; fuck him! If he hadn’t been so damn well insistent I went to that party, I might not be...

No; you know what; I wasn’t gonna think about that.

Instead I focused on scrubbing the scent of beer and cigarettes out of my hair.

Only once I’d scrubbed my skin red raw; the strong scent of cherry blossom overtaking the stench of testosterone and cheap cologne, did I get out of the shower, wrapping myself in the least ratty looking towel I could find and heading back into my bedroom; ruined clothes in hand.

I locked my bedroom door, knowing that there was no chance of El leaving her room tonight and having no desire to speak to my dad anytime this week, then settled down to work out if anything was salvageable from my Halloween costume.

The stockings were goners; large rips spanning the length of my thighs down both legs, though that was no surprise. Those sort of things never lasted more than a couple of wears anyway.

My top was beer stained, though I could probably get that out with a little detergent and some elbow grease.

The skirt was passable, though my skin crawled slightly at the reminder on why I’d picked it.

I’d probably not be wearing that one again in a hurry.

My bra was surprisingly fine, despite Billy’s rough handling, as were my heels.

My panties; well that was another story.

Damp was an understatement; despite being left on the floor of the bathroom for the better part of an hour, the crotch was soaked through. I dared a look inside on the lining, and instantly wished I hadn’t.

Stained; an almost milky looking streak running straight down the centre. I feared what a mess I might of found if Tommy hadn’t interrupted Billy; if he’d actually been allowed to continue.

I screwed them up into a ball, dumping them in the trash can alongside my ruined stockings in a bid to forget my shame.

I dumped the rest of my clothes into my laundry pile, planning to deal with them first thing tomorrow after dad left for work.

Then I pulled open my drawers, rifling through the jumble of cotton and denim for an oversized t shirt. I grabbed an old Jefferson Airplane t shirt that my dad gave to me years ago; a relic from him and ma’s freer thinking days back in New York.

I dropped my towel, fully intending to shove on the shirt then climb into bed and go to sleep; hopefully waking up tomorrow with enough of a stinker of a hangover that I’d have plausible deniability of the night’s events.

But then I stopped; I’d just caught sight of myself in the mirror.

Jesus fucking Christ; I looked like a domestic abuse victim!

The blooms of bruises decorated my skin like body paint, mapping the places Billy’s hands had strayed hours previously.

I thank God that it was dark in Steve’s car, otherwise he might’ve seen the messy pattern of hickeys running down the length of my neck, across my shoulders and collarbones, stopping just above the tops of my breast.

I even think I could make out the outlines of teeth marks mixed in amongst the bruises; the fucking animal!

It wasn’t just Billy’s mouth that had marked me up good; his hands had left purpling finger marks above my hips, the slightly raised red trails of scratches running just above in the curve of my back.

Most prominent of all was bruising on my wrist; already dark and angry, the distinct shape of his long fingers easy to make out on my darkening skin.

He was an ass; a complete and total ass.

He couldn’t even of done what he wanted and then left me to forget about it; he had to leave suiveneers, like this was some sort of milestone worth remembering.

I guess it kind of was; a hard learned life lesson to never trust a pretty smile and quick hands, no matter how much I wanted to.

I’d been an idiot; no matter what Steve said otherwise. I could accept that now, but I wouldn’t be one again; that’s for sure.

———————————— ——

I’d stayed strong for twenty more minutes, climbing into bed in my old t shirt and turning out the light, till only tree filtered moonlight lit my room.

I’d been fine for a whole twenty minutes; staring into the inky blackness till my eyes fell shut and sleep began to try and take me.

Then I saw him again; that sick self satisfied smile, those deep penetrating blues as he whispered dirty things into my ear, all to the raucous laughter of Tommy H and all his cronies.

My eyes sprung open; my heart hammering at a million miles an hour in my chest, and I was suddenly aware my face was wet; though with sweat or tears, I couldn’t tell.

I sat up, switching on my bedside lamp in the childish hope that the light might chase away the lingering bad dream. Instead my eyes were dawn to my hand resting on top of the comforter; bright purple bruises creating shadowy shackles around my wrist.

Reality hit me once more and I broke down; tears streaming down my face as I realised this was a nightmare I would never wake up from.

I didn’t get any sleep after that, sobbing silently into my pillow case like some stupid freshman who got stood up by her homecoming date.

I felt so stupid; I’d been through worse than this, for God’s sake, so why was I so damn cut up about it?

Maybe it was because I’d thought just for a moment, that Billy might actually like me.

Not like Steve did with his soft brotherly consolations and his worry filled eyes; and not like Tommy H and the rest of the sleaze patrol who stared up my skirt like it was a peep show.

I’d thought that for once in my life I’d found someone who could go toe to toe in the ring with me and put up a fair fight.

Apparently I had been mistaken; my opponent had no intention on fighting fair and wasn’t above resorting to any number of dirty tricks; even if that meant he’d end our little partnership for good.

In all my turmoil; I hadn’t noticed dad’s truck pulling up outside the house, nor had I noticed him knocking at the front door, but I could hear him now; cursing and kicking like some drunk who got locked out of his pickup.

He called out for Eleven; clearly not expecting me home yet.  She didn’t answer; no surprises there. I didn’t have any doubts that she was prepared to leave him out there all night.

“Come on; kid. Open up. Look, I know I’m late; alright....” He petitioned from the other side of the front door, unaware that his entire speech was being drowned out by a rerun of The Munsters.

“I got candy here, alright... I got all the good stuff.” He continued, but I knew it was falling upon death ears.

Eleven was mad; worse than that, she was hurt. And I already knew well enough how much being hurt by someone who you thought cared about you stung. Dad really had a better chance at picking the lock, than relying on a spurned tween to come to his rescue.

“Please... Will... You... Open... The.... Door!” He demanded, emphasising every word with a loud bang on the door, as if any amount of blustering was gonna convince El to emerge and give him entry.

Not gonna happen; I thought, but still, he was my dad. He hadn’t done anything to hurt me; at least, not intentionally.

It wasn’t fair for me to blame him just because my stupid little plan blew up in my face. He told me to go out and have a good time; not to be a slut about it.

So I dragged myself out of my bed and out of my room before my dad could give himself a hernia with all his yelling.

El still hadn’t left her room; the flickering light of the TV beneath her door the only sign of life coming from her room.

She must’ve really been pissed; and speaking of people who were pissed, dad still hadn’t given up on his ranting in the vain hope of out-stubborning a newly aged up teenager.

Stubborn or not; this teenager wasn’t so keen on being grounded till marriage, so I quickly made my way over to the cabin door, unlatching the ridiculous amount of locks lining the door. Paranoid much?

“I’m gonna freeze to death out here...” Dad petitioned; his tactics changing to guilt tripping, because apparently it was the backup plan to the entire Hopper family, but he never did get the chance to up the anti.

I’d reached the last lock and swung the door open; my face the perfect blend of pissed off and plain moody to dissuade him from asking any questions.

“Lola?!” He blurted out; actually going as far as to look confused that his oldest daughter was home after being forced to go out to some Halloween fuck fest to confront a boy he really knew nothing about.

I strode back into the house; I was really in no mood to have a moral discussion on my night out and wanted to be back behind the closed door of my room as soon as possible.

“I thought you were meant to be at a party?” Dad asked; because quite frankly, my dad was a complete and total idiot when it came to emotions, boys, and pretty much everything to do with raising a teenage girl.

I don’t even know why I trusted him with giving me advice on Billy in the first place. He treated everything like a fucking police interrogation, thinking you could get everything from someone if you just leaned on them a little.

I suppose he was right; but that technique worked two ways, and Billy clearly was better at playing bad cop.

“Lola?” Dad called out; annoyance overtaking confusion in his voice as he realised I was ignoring him.

“What the hell went on?” He asked; his chief hat and his father hat getting mixed up, but it didn’t fucking matter. Not when I could slam an slab of unvarnished wood in his face.

The door slammed; and I could still hear my dad’s blustering from the other side of the door. I knew he was gonna try and pester El on her attitude, but it would achieve him nothing but a sore throat and a sour attitude.

That was fine. We’d all earned the right to be a little pissed off tonight; some more than others. The rest of the night was destined to be spent in respective solitude, faces stained with angry tears as we each refused to talk about our problems.

Monsters were real but they didn’t hide in closets or under beds; they wore easy smiles and familiar faces, just before stabbing you in the back.

Happy fucking Halloween everybody!

[thetranquilteal]

Heal You Anyway [AO3] by @thetranquilteal

After eight years of marriage, four children, immigrating to a new country, and a traumatic amputation sustained while deployed overseas, Marsali Fraser loves her husband Fergus just as much (if not more) than the day they wed. So much so, that she would be furious with anyone who dared hurt him… including Fergus, himself.

Fersali. Modern Day AU. One Shot. Inspired by “The Cure” by Lady Gaga.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Nothing Graphic, But Warnings Still Apply, Think ABOSSA

“You’re angry.” 

It wasn’t a question. Fergus knew she was angry with him. If not for their eight years or marriage where he had learned to judge her inner emotions by her stance, the shade of her ears or the specific way she would brush the hair out of her face, it was obvious by the set of her mouth and the look in her eyes. 

“Yes,” Marsali confirmed. “I am.”

He continued to watch her face as she tended to his injuries. First his right hand, bruised and bloodied, his skin and bone no match for solid brick, and then his other arm that ended in a stump that was in no better - perhaps even worse - condition. 

He had been so angry when he had done it. Pounding both his fist and stump so hard against the wall had been almost therapeutic - certainly more so than any of the therapy sessions he had been attending. The smeared blood that had been left in his wake was more satisfying to witness than anything else, as though it were physical evidence that he still have something left to give. 

Ever since he had returned home from deployment early and with only one hand, no less, he had been angry. Angry about what had happened. Angry at himself for letting it happen. Angry at everyone else for pretending like nothing had changed. As though he was still the same person he was when he had left.

Jamie was the only one who didn’t make him feel like he was walking this line alone. The much older Scot had been the first to reach it him after it happened 

“Dinna be feart, Fergus, laddie,” Jamie had told him as he laid there in shock, staring at the place his hand used to be while the torn sleeve of his fatigues turned a disturbing shade of red. “I’ve watched milady do this many times.” 

He could remember letting out a pained chuckle and Jamie had kept him on the edge of consciousness long enough for their crew medic to arrive. Almost everything after that seemed like a blur, the only consistent thing being Jamie staying by his side. He trusted him to be there, to be honest and, most importantly, look after his family in his absence.

But it was also Jamie who had pulled him away from the edge tonight and now all he felt was numb. It was as if his body had reached full capacity and, unable to take on any more, had simply shut itself down. Now all that remained of him was an impenetrable barrier, a piece of armour that had wrapped itself tightly around his chest and fused itself shut. 

If not for the way Marsali was now looking at him he might have thought himself already a ghost, nothing more than a memory floating through the halls of their ramshackle two bedroom house. 

His wife was fiercely proud of their home, he knew. Thanks to her never ending effort it was always nice and clean, free of clutter and not even a speck of dust to be seen - certainly very little evidence that six people, including four young children, resided there. Yet all he could see were its faults. The burner on the stove that refused to work. The paint that was peeling away from the corners. The cupboard door that hung diagonally and creaked when opened. The burn mark in the linoleum from the time a tray had fallen from his grasp. The broken high chair that he had promised to fix but couldn't even bear to look at.

“Weel? What do ye have to say fer yerself, Fergus Fraser?” Marsali asked, bringing him back to the present. She stood with one hand on her hip and the other gripping the leftover gauze in the other. Seemingly unsurprised by his silence she continued on. “Receivin’ a phone call from Da sayin’ ye were in need of a ride and some medical attention was no’ the way I expected my Friday evening tae go, I can tell ye that much. So, why I am here in the kitchen wi’ ye - bandagin’ up cuts and scrapes that Claire could have tended to far better than me, by the way -  instead of in bed sleepin’ just like I had planned?”

“I assumed Milord would have told you,” he raised one corner of his mouth in which he hoped replicated a grin but quickly realised his attempted light-heartedness was not going to work when his moniker for Jamie had failed to get any reaction out of his wife at all.

“Oh, he told me but I want tae hear it from you.”

Fergus took in a deep breath and tried to think of what to say. No matter how hard he tried nothing came to mind. Instead he only found himself surrounded by a fog so heavy it infiltrated his mind and settled like cement, intent to fill every crack and crevice in both his mind and heart. Perhaps even his soul.

“Why?” He asked eventually, the single word being the only one that came to mind.

“Why what?” Marsali asked patiently as though it were any other night when they would sit at the kitchen table and share a pot of tea after the children had all gone to bed, and not…

Fergus shook his head slightly and tried to refocus. Once again he had no clue how to answer her. What exactly he had he been referring to? Why didn't his brain want to work? Why he was like this? Why he was here sitting here in the kitchen when he could have- should have- taken care of things once and for all? Why did Marsali care? Why did anyone care? All of the above and more, most likely. 

“Why would you still want me?” He finally decided upon.

“Why would I still want you?” Marsali repeated back to him.

“Oui,” he nodded hoping, praying, that she understood his words even when he didn't.

“Tell me then, husband,” Marsali crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at him, “what makes ye think that I wouldna want ye?”

“I don’t know, I... I don’t know what to say to you, Marsali.”

“Just tell me what ye think! Tell me how ye feel! I canna read yer mind, Fergus! I canna help ye if I dinna ken what is going through yer heid!!”

She whipped her arm up and slammed her closed fist on the table, the impact making his jaw drop and words that he had forgotten even existed spilled out of his mouth at a rate he had no hope of controlling.

“I have no job, no career. I have no prospects. No future! All because I have no hand!”

“It’s no-”

“I cannot give you or les enfants what you deserve,” he grasped onto her hand with his own and squeezed hard, his desperation for her to understand overriding any pain his action caused. “Not a house big enough for everyone to have their own room, not a car that you could drive for more than a few hundred kilometres without worrying that it will break down, or even an anniversary gift that you so deserve. I cannot even provide you with money so that you might get these things for yourself.”

“I can live without those things,” she said simply as if they were of no consequence, as if their neighbours didn’t judge the state of their house or people didn’t whisper as they walked around the supermarket filling their shopping trolley with all they could afford on their measly budget, “but I canna live without you.”

“Nor can I,” he whispered as he shrank back into his seat and his grip on her loosened. “I cannot protect you, any of you. I could never live with myself if anything were to happen and now with Henri-Christian... Don’t you see?”

“See what?” Marsali’s face had hardened at the mention of their youngest son and now she was practically growling, the fire in her eyes enough to make even the most fearsome predator take a step back. Born with a rare form of dwarfism, their son had been the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons and Marsali was all too ready to snap at anyone who dared make a fuss. That apparently included him.

“That you would be better off without me. You could remarry,” Marsali pulled her hand away sharply as though she had finally realised just what he was - or, more specifically, what he wasn’t. “Find someone who’s whole, someone who can look after you - all of you. I have seen... the things I have seen, Marsali, not only during the war but when I was growing up on the streets of Paris - you must understand. The thought of something like that happening... I would do anything to prevent it. Anything.”

Marsali turned and walked over to the sink to wash her hands with the aromatic hand wash Claire had lovingly made from the things that grew in her garden. She stood there longer than he knew she really needed to and when she finally reached out for the hand towel he was ready for her to turn around. She walked towards him and he prepared himself to be kicked him out of the house and onto the curb just like he deserved.  

What he wasn’t ready for was for the way she reached out and gently pulled him out of his seat.

Wordlessly, she guided him down the hall to their bedroom. He simply stood there as she stripped down to her bra and panties before she moved on to him, first pulling off his t-shirt and then undoing his belt. His pants dropped to the floor and he automatically stepped out them without thinking. Feeling freer than he had felt in a long time he floated alongside her to the bed and allowed his wife to lay him down on his back.

“Just say yes,” she said as she swung her leg over him slowly and straddle him so gently he could hardly feel the weight of her.

She watched him carefully and waited.

All it took was the slightest nod of his chin for her to bend down and kiss him softly on the lips. There was nothing sexual about the way she was touching him yet it was more intimate than anything he had ever experienced. 

Right then and there, he felt his chest cracking open. Not just the armour that had wrapped itself around him but that which laid underneath it. He gasped into her mouth and raised his arms so that his forearms cradled her torso, suddenly desperate just to touch her in any way he could. The feeling of her skin against his did something to him that he never thought possible. Not anymore. Goosebumps covered him from to toe as his body came alive and she kissed him harder this time, conveying the message that she wasn’t leaving nor was she ever going to let him leave her. Not now.

How could he have ever forgotten how determined she was?

On any other occasion he would happily surrender himself to her in the bedroom but this time things seemed different. He knew they were different. He pushed up and kissed her back. The sound that was emitted from the back of her throat at his action prompted him to move again, this time up and over so that she was now beneath him with his bandaged hand and stump on either side of her head. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled until he dropped all of his weight onto her. 

“I’m yours,” she growled at him, “and you are mine. I will never not want you.”

A sob escaped him and she kissed him again. This time they didn’t stop, instead kissing and touching each other wherever they could. They removed each others underclothes without losing contact and she gasped as he slid slowly inside of her. He held still for a moment, relishing in the feeling of having her wrapped around him before moving slowly, the warmth of her centre spreading throughout the rest of his body. He considered himself a humble man but in times like this he proved to be more selfish than anyone. He let himself go, trusting that she would catch hold of his soul and hold on tight.

It wasn’t until they were both sated and gasping for breath that their rocking ceased and they shifted themselves into a more comfortable position where neither was on top of the other but instead laying side by side, him all the while still inside her.

“I dinna mind,” she whispered and Fergus turned his head to see her more clearly. “If yer angry then be angry. Smash things - I don’t care what just so long as it’s not yerself. I don’t need things, Fergus. I just need you.”

She blinked and he watched as a teardrop escaped, making its way down the side of her nose. Her reached out to catch it with the pad of his thumb before it made its way any further and brushed his hand over her porcelain skin, made even more pale by the soft moonlight shining through the window. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, the pain in his chest increasing tenfold at the sight of more tears following the first.

“Don’t be sorry,” she answered hoarsely but firmly. “Just be here. With me.”

“Always,” he promised and pulled her light form tighter against him until there was nothing between them at all, not even a single wisp of air. He felt her relax into his hold and squeezed tighter still. “Always.”

In that very moment he meant it, and he knew Marsali did too.

All he had to do was say 'yes' and she would be right by his side. Even if he said he was okay, she was going to heal him anyway.

[justlurkingintheshadows]

The true evil of RWBY

We all know Salem is meant to be the big bad and Ozpin (who we now know as Ozma but will be referred to as Oz to make like easier) is the one meant to be the good guy, tasked with destroying her, however I find him to be questionable, in fact volume 5 kept lowering my opinion of him ever further. My friend and I like to roleplay and make more of a character out of characters, you'd expect us to have Oz as a good guy and Salem as a bad guy but actually it's quite the opposite, Salem is generally our favourite character, she's a fierce beauty and we know barely anything about her (or at least before V6 we knew nothing but hooray for lore) we've come up with our own headcanons, we usually see her as a fair boss or loving mom, and Ozpin barely has a second thought, maybe sometimes we've thought of him as an ex love, or the opposite side to her but really we don't think about him much, reason being because we don't particularly like him, don't get me wrong he has a great character but like I said, I find him questionable and I'll tell you why in just a moment. Chapter 3 of Volume 6 showed us exactly what happened over a thousand years ago with the Gods of Light and Darkness and Salem and Ozma and answered a lot of our questions, but it got me thinking about who the real villian is, of course it's Salem but when you break down the four characters you begin to realise it's not all black and white...

The Gods

So we finally got to meet the brothers we've heard of only in stories by a campfire. The God of Light (GoL) and the God of Darkness (GoD) are two new interesting characters we had the misfortune of meeting, and yes it is misfortune. Good ol' GoL denied Salem of her love, refusing to bring him back, that's fair, and GoD brought him back but later destroyed him when he found out he was Salem's second choice after his brother, that's also fair, except he brought him back without question in the first place, likely appreciating that someone actually came to see him (but I won't get into the precious GoD headcanon). For her actions Salem was cursed by GoL with immortality, and told she must learn the importance of life, and this turned out to be the biggest mistake he ever made and you'll see why in a bit.

Upon Salem's betrayal GoD destroys THE ENTIRE planet, instead of simply taking away all magic (Salem's too), or condemning Salem to external purgatory, or literally anything else, instead he just decides to effectively Thanos snap the entire planet because one bitch did a thing, thousands of completely innocent lives, gallant warriors, and dutiful worshippers gone in a second, and GoL just let's it happen like yep this is completely acceptable. I understand the idea was to punish Salem with a failure so big that there is no possible way she would ever be able to undo it but they still kept Salem there... With hope that she could change and see the importance of life... But if there is no life how can she learn it's importance...

And then there's the fact they just up and abandoned that entire planet, then destroyed the moon as a f*** you, because there was no need for that really.

If you thought the world was a lost cause why not wipe the slate clean and start anew, why would you ever trust humans to set aside their differences and unite themselves, humans are incapable I mean look at our Earth for example, there will always be something they find to cause conflict, and everyone will never get along, it's impossible, and how can there be any good without the bad to balance it, there was likely conflict even with the Gods there so what hope is there without them... Well actually I believe that hope was Oz and Salem...

Salem

Now sure Salem was an arrogant demanding bitch when Ozma died and she called the Gods monsters for taking him away from her again and again even though they were probably just trying to keep the natural balance of life and death in check, and I know she kinda rallied the humans to try to take down the Gods but really... It's not that bad. I know that sounds insane but hear me out, her punishment could have been a lot worse, and she could have found another way, I mean she could certainly take her time to come up with a plan that's for sure. She got punished with eternal life, now for some that would be a blessing, getting to live forever, never having to fear death, and of course watching everyone you've ever loved fade away around you as their lives come to an end and yours keeps on going... doesn't sound too fun actually... But this was her punishment for betraying the Gods, and she had to learn her lesson, learn the importance of life, you'd think with eternal life that would be a synch... WRONG, the worst thing you could ask of an immortal being is to learn about the importance of life, what does life mean to someone who never dies? It means that no matter what mortals will come and go but you will stay forever as you are, you're guaranteed to outlive anyone and everyone you meet, losing people constantly, it makes you bitter, so you isolate yourself to avoid getting attached and losing them as you know you will again and again, and you become detached, mortal beings have no place in your life because they can never match you, especially when you have magic and they have nothing, why should you care about them when you are in every way superior, you even control their deepest fears (since Salem is basically Queen Grimm thanks to GoD's Grimm pits), and Ozma's own curse makes learning her lesson even worse, he's the only person she loved, and he is cursed to die and be reborn, into a different body, the only death she would care about is his, and if he keeps coming back even as a different person death eventually doesn't bother her, Oz will always come back, and that's a constant so why should mortal death matter when it's not the person she loves. On top of that she is definitely affected by the Grimm desire to destroy things, so she can never be 100% held accountable for her actions after she fell into the pit.

But the biggest point is - Salem was right.

Her suggestion that they forget about the Gods and become their own Gods was sound, sure the gods helped them but it's not like people knew of that now, the Gods abandoned them when their experiment failed and left the saving of the planet to the guy who knew the person to spark all this... Oz and Salem were beings of infinite potential, one can never die, the other will always be ressurected, and both have magic, a thing which no one possesses anymore, following them would be wise, they could have led the humans to a new kind of salvation. Now of course destroying those who don't comply is a little extreme but if Oz talked to her then he could have let her see that there was no need, why force people to follow you when they'll do so of their own accord, and if they don't believe then that's their loss, it's not like they could actually DO anything about it... They couldn't take the two out, they'd always exist, and they have superior power and displayed mastery over using their gifts to destroy Grimm, seriously why wouldn't you want to join their side!

I'm not excusing things she did I'm just saying she was right, and things would be incredibly different in the present had Ozma just talked to her, which brings me smoothly over to him...

Ozma

The glorious Oz, originally Ozma, we know him best as Ozpin, and now as Ozcar, but of course based off the wizard of Oz who was at the end of the story a big fat fraud... Huh... his roots don't seem to really work in his favour...

"Blessed" by the God of Light to experience death in every form and to join with another's soul to be reborn in a cycle that will last for eternity. Really it's more of a curse, dying over and over and over and over and over again doesn't seem too fun, but boy did he come to learn the importance of life because surprise if you have to experience death and live in another's shoes you really start to appreciate what it means to live. No wonder Salem will never learn her lesson, the Gods didn't do her any favours... the same Gods who abandoned their people because their "experiment" failed... and left the saving of the entirety of mankind to one guy just because he knew the person who basically "caused" everything... Whom the Gods created by providing eternal life... because he died and she wanted back but the Gods wouldn't allow it... and their solution was to have her live forever and eventually bring him back to her anyway and have him always be reborn... Seems they contradict themselves too...

Anyway point being Oz didn't seem to have things in his favour from the start, and it only got worse from there...

Turns out Oz has ALWAYS had that issue about not telling people things, it seems his most constant flaw that even thousands of years of dying and taking host of a new body couldn't fix, I mean I understand him to an extent but right at the beginning he didn't tell Salem about GoL's conversation with him straight away, and when he did he kinda just left it at that and didn't talk any more about it... And Salem didn't even seem to really mind (her eyes white showing she was in control and chill), that is she didn't mind until he tried to leave with their kids (eyes turned black with Grimm anger) and the fact he had to have his weapon didn't help him - I'm still not excusing what Salem did though, but they both killed their kids, caught in the crossfire, fatalities of the destruction they both caused.

Before I skip to Ozpin and Ozcar I have a gentle reminder here for you, this revelation came to me when I saw a post about how Ozpin has made more mistakes than everyone combined and one being the fact he had sex with Salem... A Grimm Salem... Multiple times (the exact wording being "Putting my dick in /that/ for starters") however that appendage wasn't his own, you forget at that point he had been shoved into a random guys body and immediately took over and controlled his every action, we know he had barely any care for his vessel or "host" (if we want to start the whole Oz is a virus rant) at the beginning because Jinn tells us that after his fight with Salem he EVENTUALLY learned to live in harmony with the soul who's body he shared... after ruining the lives of a countless many... we also know or rather assume he only suppresses the other soul rather than takes over completely as learned from Ozcar (and potentially Ozpin too), which means there was a suppressed and confused other soul wondering what was going on and being forced to take a back seat watching Ozma do whatever he wanted in a body that didn't belong to him, I can't imagine him actually being ok with this random and extreme series of events, this man watched as Oz made a family with Salem without even a fleeting thought for the man's own family that he no doubt had... And then Oz got this man killed in an unnecessary battle... what a glorious hero...

Anyway grazing over the numerous lives Oz ruined and all the other sh!t he no doubt did that brings us to Ozpin, though we know fairly little we know enough to say that he has a bad habit of doing things like playing the pronoun game, providing half truths, and of course not telling anyone what they actually need to know - "You have silver eyes" yes she does... What about them? (Hype for getting that answer this volume) - he fails to inform people of what matters, preferring to leave that until later when people have already died (including himself, so he is now Ozcar) and people are desperate... Except oh wait sorry he doesn't even tell you then, he holds back mostly everything with the excuse that you don't need to know, and even when he 'tells you everything' you STILL find out he was holding something back... Classic Oz I guess

Now we're on Ozcar and you see that he has a second bad habit of taking over control forcefully, he hasn't learned harmony with the other soul at all, this given how he's lived for the past thousand or so years shows that he hasn't changed, sure he may be 'better' than he was before but he still very much has not changed. Even when he and Oscar apparently talked about that he took over anyway in an attempt to prevent people learning about something he didn't tell them (shocker) except this time the vessel fought back (something I doubt many if any have done before)

All in all he is an extremely questionable character with even more questionable motives.

But as much as it may seem like I'm dragging him through the dirt I won't deny the achievements he HAS managed, the academies for one major thing, it really helped out the world and there'd be a lot more fear and chaos had he not intervened in such a major way, doesn't explain why he likes to throw kids off of cliffs or any of that but still, I'm sure he has his reasons, don't expect him to tell you them though.

He truly has made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on the planet...

~~~~~~~~

When you really take a look at everything you begin to realise that the Gods kinda set them both up to fail, whether they knew it or not, imagine how different things would have been had a single thing gone differently, and how easily things could have changed

~~~~~~~~

And thus concludes this post, I hope I didn't miss anything (but if I did then oops)

Now I don't know about you but I would totally go up to Salem and tell her she was right, if Tyrian doesn't murder me the immediate second I show up, I've been leaning towards her side more and more since Oz pulled that sketchy move of controlling Oscar without permission (though I do realise death was a possibility it was still sketch) at least she doesn't build your hopes up only for you to discover they're lies, she seems like she'd tell you what's up. But that's just how I've committed think of her I suppose, she is an amazing and beautiful character, who we still don't know all too much about even with this lore... I really hope this means we get more backstories for more villians, I want to see a baby Tyrian.

But I digress.

[captainlordauditor]

Cartoons and Compassion

Summary: Medda didn’t usually think of herself as liking children, but Jack was growing on her. Warnings: None Words:  2,606 Other: Canon era, starts in 1889. Written for @meddacrusade​ day 2, her relationship with the kids.

Read on AO3 

When Medda opened the door to Mary holding a small white boy on her hip, she almost closed the door on her, but something made her pause.

The boy was sullen faced and tired looking, but still alert, staring at Medda suspiciously. They were obviously not related, but Mary’s nephew Benjamin clung to her skirts wearing a twin expression.

“You can’t keep him,” Medda told her.

“I know that,” Mary said. She came in and set the boy down at her dressing table. To Medda’s amazement, he didn’t touch anything, just watched them quietly. Benjamin climbed up beside him and blew a raspberry of boredom. “I - He’s a friend of my nephew’s. You remember a month ago, my brother died, in that accident?” she spit out the word bitterly; there was no way what had happened to Mary’s brother had been an accident, not when it happened a few weeks after he talked about going on strike. “One of the other fellows, Izrail, he was killed too. The man was the kindest heart I’ve ever met, but nobody cared about him any more than they cared about Elijah.”

“And you had to take his son in.”

“I had to get Benjamin!” It came out louder than Mary must’ve intended, and the boys looked up. She handed them a deck of cards before turning back to Medda, her voice lowered. “He was in one of those boys’ homes, and wouldn’t come with me unless I took his friend, too.”

Medda sighed and looked back at the boys. Might as well make the most of it. “Have you boys eaten?” They both shook their heads. Medda handed Benjamin a dime. “Go to Jacobi’s. Bring it back here to share.” Benjamin took the dime and nodded, hugging her before he went. Mary bit her lip but went to the closet to find her costume and start getting ready. “What’s your name, kid?” Medda asked.

“Francis Sullivan.” The words were slow and practiced. Still, the pronunciation was off, and there was just the barest pause before he answered.

Medda glanced at Mary, who was undoing her blouse. Mary shook her head very slightly. Medda didn’t really need the confirmation; she’d met Izrail a few times. Even if she hadn’t, she had trouble imagining a Russian Jew named Sullivan. She raised an eyebrow at the boy.

He looked down. “Yonaton,” he admitted. “But the others all calls me Jack.”  He spoke carefully, making sure his words were right. Izrail had barely spoken English; Medda wondered where Jack had learned this much.

“Alright, Jack,” Medda said, pointing at the box she had come in here for. “Can you take that out to the stage for me?”

Jack’s shoulders slumped. Medda could imagine his thoughts right now: At the lodging house we don’t have chores. But he nodded and picked it up. Medda turned to Mary.

“I know they can’t stay here,” Mary told her. “I know you’re just running the place and Mr. Miller’ll go spare if we let street kids live in here. But I couldn’t just leave them. They need some place to stay out of trouble after selling the evening edition, at the least.”

“I was going to offer to let them stay until I lock up,” replied Medda.

Mary relaxed visibly. “Times like this I wish I had my own apartment instead of the boarding house.”

Medda nodded; she’d been thinking the same thing. The boarding house they both lived in gave them both room and board, but at the cost of being women only. They’d come up with something. They could still look after the boys, even if the four of them weren’t living together.

It became routine. Most nights, after selling the evening papers, Benjamin and Jack went over to the Bowery Theatre. One of the four would pay for dinner, usually Medda, since she had the highest pay. Medda didn’t usually think of herself as liking children, didn’t usually think about them at all, since they weren’t really an option, but Jack was growing on her.

He was quiet; everything he said was measured and careful and slow. Medda thought he’d talk more if he had more opportunities to get words in edgewise when he had to mentally translate everything.

A few weeks after he’d turned up, Medda went out and bought herself an English-Yiddish dictionary. She spent the next few days trying to make sense of the guttural language, completely different from her own. Medda had never learned a second language; she wished she’d started when she was younger, but it was too late for regrets. Just start to learn it now.

On Monday, she sat next to Jack and asked him about his day. He laughed at her, at the soft khets and vowels too far forward in her mouth. The boy bent over and the sound tumbled out until there were tears in his eyes.

Medda never learned how his day was, but she counted it as a victory. Five weeks after she’d met him, it was the first time she’d heard him laugh.

At some point Medda realised that Jack could read even less than Benjamin could. It made sense, when she thought about it -  Izrail had learned what he’d had of English through speaking and listening. She had no idea how literate he’d been in the language. If Jack could read well, it was probably in Russian or Yiddish. Didn’t Russian have letters that looked like English ones but made different sounds? How much of his accent would go away if he could read without mixing the sounds up? How much easier would it be for him to support himself?

That was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? If Jack was going to make a living selling newspapers, he needed to know what it was he was selling. So Medda found a slate and chalk and sat down in her spare time to teach him.

It was harder than expected. Russian, it seemed, had thirty-seven letters. Their first lesson, Medda asked him to write the alphabet and he promptly wrote out the Russian one. She could see why - maybe half the letters he drew looked like ones used in English. When Medda drew out the English alphabet for him, Jack looked at the slate, then at her, and asked, “Where’s the talking dots?”

“The talking dots?”

“You know,” he said, “the bits under and on top of the letters that tells you how the letter’s talking. Like ah, ooh, oh, uh….”

“You mean vowels? They’re right there.” She tapped the letter A.

Jack looked confused. “Then you didn’t do it right! There’s gotta be more! Where’s the rest?”

Medda chuckled. “That’s all there is!”

Jack looked at her suspiciously, then angrily when she showed no sign of changing her mind, leaping up, his small hands turning into fists. “I hates English! Sometimes it’s like Russian and sometimes it’s different and sometimes it pretends to be Russian but ain’t and it’s nothing like Yiddish and it don’t make sense!”

He looked like he was about to cry out of frustration, so Medda put her hands gently on his shoulders and said, “I know it’s frustrating. But you gotta learn this. Besides - haven’t you ever pretended to be something you’re not?”

Jack thought about it. “Ta - Dad always said I shouldn’t speak Yiddish around g - around Christians.”

“So the letters are like you,” she said. “When they’re around English letters they make different sounds.”

Jack looked at the slate again and nodded.

It soon became apparent that Jack, despite knowing he needed to learn to read, didn’t want to. Every night he would sit in Medda’s dressing room with his slate, bent over it. Afterwards he would proudly show off a drawing instead of his letters.

It was what she got for trusting a seven year old to study on his own, she supposed. She tried to scold him, she really did, but her heart swelled whenever she saw a child with so clear a passion as Jack had, especially a creative one.

Eventually, she broke and found him a notebook and some pencils, and told him that if he practiced writing he could draw as much as he wanted and she’d give him a nickel a week to spend. His eyes got big and round, and he nodded and promised emphatically.

She didn’t really expect him to do it, but within three weeks Jack was stumbling through sentences in English every night.

“You reads it tomorrow - you needs the practice more’n I do!”

“I’m always reading it, Ben. I think I knows how to read English, it’s been five years.”

“You still gets the Hs and the Bs mixed up with the Russian ones.”

“How d’you know? I ain’t heard you read the headlines in three months!”

“Boys! I let you sit up there, you can keep your voices down!”

“Sorry, Miss Medda.”

Benjamin and Jack came in laughing, Benjamin blinking around at the world from behind a pair of spectacles. Mary was performing right then, so Medda was the one who grabbed their ears and dragged them into her dressing room to talk.

“Where did you get those?” She nodded at Benjamin’s spectacles. They were expensive; there was no way the boys could’ve afforded them without asking Medda for help, and neither one of them had.

“We bought them, honest and fair,” said Benjamin, twisting in her grip.

“He needed them,” protested Jack. “Medda, he had to put the papes right up against his nose to read-”

“How’d you buy them? With what money?” Medda let go of their ears.

“Dina gave it to us,” Benjamin told Medda, not looking her in the eye.

Dina was a troublemaker. Medda couldn’t really blame her, given the position she was in, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous for Jack and especially Benjamin to get caught up in it. “And where did Dina get the money?”

They had the decency to look ashamed. “She stole it,” admitted Jack.

“From Snyder,” added Benjamin.

Medda was almost ready to laugh. She hated Snyder as much as the boys did. He was the reason she hadn’t seen Jack for a month three years ago; she’d worried herself sick. Besides, Jack was right - Benjamin had needed the spectacles, and the only way to get them for him involved some kind of thievery.

She shook her head. She was coming late to this mothering business; she figured she had seven years to catch up on, since they’d come to her at that age. She couldn’t let them know she privately approved of this, so she gave them a lecture on the dangers of men of their backgrounds being caught with stolen money. Then she undermined it by hugging them both, since they only came by every week or so now.

“It’s really nice of you to do this, but I can’t pay you right now.”

Jack shrugged, mixing paint as he knelt down by the corner of the canvas. “Think of it as a thank you for all the times you let me hide out here from Spider.”

Medda shook her head, watching him. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Jack.”

“All the nickels you gave me when I was a kid, then.”

“Those nickels could hardly pay for the supplies you’re using on this!” Medda waved her hand over the backdrop in progress. “Besides, that money was payment for your work.”

“Work I was doing for me!” Jack tossed his brush into his pallette, setting it down as he turned to look at her. “A - a thanks for everything, Medda. For the, the nickels, and teaching me English, and taking me in. I don’t know how to pay you back for that.”

Medda hugged him so he wouldn’t have to see her face. “You don’t have to, sweetheart. I just did the job in front of me.”

Jack hugged her back. He was big enough now that he could wrap his arms all the way around her back and have them meet, and Medda liked feeling how much he’d grown in the past ten years. “I’m just doing the same thing, Medda.”

Medda pulled back and looked at him seriously. “Painting’s a skill you’ve learned, Jack Kelly, and painting for free isn’t saving lives. I’m gonna pay you when I can, because if you get in the habit of selling this skill for free you won’t ever get anywhere.”

Jack looked down and smiled. “Thanks, Medda. But just let this one be a gift. Next one, you pay me for.”

Jack sat backstage, chewing his lip and turning his cap over in his hands. Occasionally he’d wipe his eyes or make a motion to put his hat back on, then change his mind. Eventually, he said, “Pulitzer offered me a job.”

“I’d heard. You don’t want to take it?”

Jack shook his head, taking a deep and shaky breath. “It ain’t that. I just….”

Medda rubbed his shoulder. “I’m proud of you whatever you decide, kid. You did the right thing with the strike and I trust you to keep doing it.”

Jack swallowed. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you. It’s just - I don’t care that I’d be working for Pulitzer, not really. It ain’t that.”

“What’s bothering you, Jack?” She wrapped him in a one-armed hug.

He leaned into her. “If I’m gonna be a cartoonist, I gotta have a name. To put under the cartoons in the papes.”

Medda thought she understood. “You’re tired of being Kelly.”

“I’m tired of lying.” He sounded exhausted. “I’m tired of hiding, damn what Tateh said to me. But I don’t… I don’t remember my name. And I feel like maybe I’m a bad person, not remembering my own name.”

Izrail had had the most Jewish name Medda had ever heard, and she thought he’d be proud of his son for going back to it, but it was a shock to think the seven year old boy who’d told her his name was Francis Sullivan was the same one sitting next to her. “Cohen,” she whispered. “Your name was Yonaton Cohen.”

Jack paused, then replied, “God, that’s the most Jewish name I’ve ever heard.”

Medda laughed.

“Medda! Medda!” The hammering at her door was paired by an excited voice. Medda pulled herself out of bed, threw on a robe and went to see what Jack wanted.

He stood there with a paper clutched in his hands and a grin splitting his face in two, vibrating with excitement. “Look,” he said. He handed her the paper. It was the latest edition of The New York World. Jack must’ve just come from the printers to get it this time of day. “On the third page, Medda. I did it. I wanted you to be the first one to see.”

Despite the hour, all of Medda’s tiredness vanished. She opened it to the third page to see Jack’s drawing of McKinley and Aguinaldo next to an article about the war in the Philippines. She threw her arms around Jack, enveloping him in a tight embrace. “I’m so proud.”

Jack returned the hug and said, “Did you read it? Medda, did you really look at it? There’s something I want to show you on it. I should’ve asked first, but-” he pulled away and took the paper from her. “I wanted to do right by you. You’s the one that got me here.”

Medda looked where he was pointing and felt tears forming in her eyes. There, in the corner, was the cartoonist’s name: J. C. Larkin.

[dingoat]

The Right Way | Part Nine

[ previous | the beginning | next ]

In the timeline where Crow turned left, Lyrisal found herself paying Kassandra’s bail for the ninth time before they actually stopped to have a conversation with one another.

The Chiss had a habit of crossing people with just enough power to see her temporarily held in custody, but never charged seriously enough to be taken to court. And a good thing too, because Lyrisal really hated to see her behind bars. The more she watched the woman; discreetly at first, always at a distance, using her network to keep tabs on where the self-funded aid worker was operating; …the more she watched, the more she found herself adoring her. Everything about Kassandra; that vitality, that passion, the way she totally abandoned any sort of rules to do what she thought was best for beings in unfortunate situations, it all struck a fierce chord with Lyrisal. And began to cast doubts on her own career choice, and the regulations she was sworn to operate under.

The couple of times she professed her doubts to Falkes, he would laugh it off, dismissing the thoughts as though she’d just told a kicker of a joke. Lyrisal increasingly began to hold her tongue, and no longer made Falkes privy to the times she would step in to the local station of whatever planet they found themselves on, speaking up on behalf of whatever minor infringement Kassandra had most recently committed and seeing to it that the Chiss walked free later that afternoon.

And this time, Lyrisal decided to be there when she did.

As Kassandra stepped out of the enforcement office, Lyrisal’s heart gave a lurch. She shook her hair out in the low, afternoon sun, catching the light and illuminating the golden strands. She wore a smile; a little cocky, but very genuine, a woman who believed in herself and her work, and had no regrets about crossing local laws when she saw them only getting in the way of genuine help. And for the first time, as Kassandra turned, pausing to pull her glasses out of her purse, Lyrisal saw her eyes. They glowed. For the few seconds she saw them, her breath caught in her throat. They were, as far as she was concerned, utterly stunning.

And then they were gone, masked behind those red tinted sunglasses, a set Kassandra had worn for many years specifically to cancel out the glare of her eyes. Over time she had learned it made her more accessible to species who found her red glow eerie and off-putting.

Lyrisal blinked, found herself smoothing her hair, and walking over to the Chiss. She was no longer content watching, helping from a distance. She wanted desperately to know this woman. She needed to see those eyes again.

***

Ahuska’a hated the Threskiorns. A vile, invasive avian species that the government of Vohai had hired Aliit Ga’ihlr and several other clans to exterminate. She hated them, and so utterly relished every battle that let her and her Vode take them out.

“Give ‘em hell,” she beamed a fierce grin toward Mar’an, who was getting into his flight gear, ready to lead a squadron.

“You too, Hus’ika,” he responded with bright, battle-ready intensity, stepping over to knock his head against hers before climbing into the cockpit.

She was going to be fighting on the ground, of course; armed with a blaster and her three best anooba, taking out the dirty Threskiorn ground troops like a wild hunting pack. Oh, how she loved working with her dogs. “Ga’ihlr Gold! Ready for the air!” A voice shouted out over the throng of bustling troops, and Mar’an gave Ahuska’a a quick nudge on the cheek before moving off.

“That’s my cue. Good hunting!”

“See you on the other side. Knock ‘em dead!”

---

Ulfran sat at his desk in his office in Kaas City, poring over an ancient manuscript that he occasionally cross-referenced with a holo-document he had up on a wide display. A couple of times he held up the old, tattered linen scroll etched with ancient letters against the light, measuring certain characters against his thumb, adjusting the size of his holo.

He remembered this; it was his second major hunt, and he was working his way through a profoundly ancient Rakatan journal.

As he wached this old memory, Ulfran suddenly found himself filled with alarm as he realised what this day more than likely was. ‘Ah. No, no, I don’t need to see this again…’ he thought to himself, but in the shared mental space that they were, Nela heard the murmured thoughts as though he spoke them clear as day.

‘It’s all important,’ she countered, either oblivious to or not in the least bothered by the rising shame the old Jedi felt. But as the memory went on, nothing happened.

In the timeline where Crow turned left, Ulfran carried on at his desk, working furiously away at the job he believed in.

---

In the timeline where Crow turned right, Ulfran worked furiously away at his desk until he was interrupted by a single rap on the door before it opened, and a sinuous Sluissi slithered her way in.

Watching on with Nela, Ulfran cringed before she even opened her mouth; this was it. Somehow, in that other version of events, this day had gone completely differently, one as ordinary as the next. But here, in the version that had actually happened…

“Acolyte,” the snake-like woman purred, the smooth movement of her thin, scaled body sidling up to a much younger Ulfran in a hearbeat.

He stood to attention obediently, his dark eyes turning her way. “My Lord.”

“Are you busy, my dear?”

“I am working hard, Lord Vesstris, but nothing that can’t be put on hold if you require something else of me.”

“Oh but you are a good boy, aren’t you?”

Ulfran shut his eyes as she traced a finely scaled hand along his arm, and she felt the end of that serpent tail of hers snaking around his feet under the table. He was certain she knew just how uncomfortable she could make him feel, and was equally certain she delighted in it.

“One day we’ll undo the damage that old Order of yours did,” she went on, as though she could read his thoughts. “But yes, it would seem we have need of your talents. Come.”

Without question he followed her, and she explained his incoming task as she slithered through the sanctum corridors. “One of our top Agents has a bit of a habit of, ahh, taking certain liberties while on the job. Usually they’re reasonably discreet about it, but a recent incident has managed to raise enough eyebrows that we feel the need to smooth things over somewhat. There were a handful of witnesses to the event, and we’d like to avoid disposing of them if possible… but we can’t entirely trust them not to talk to the wrong people, you understand?”

“Yes, My Lord.” He already had a suspicion of which of his ‘talents’ Lord Vesstris wished to put to use.

“You know your skill with mental manipulation is enviable,” she said, her tone low and silky. “If you could be so good as to readjust their memories of the events, it would save us an awful lot of bother, and keep a solid Agent in the field without all the fuss of going through the motions of court…”

It wasn’t often that his Lords and Masters pulled Ulfran aside for jobs so sideways from his artifact hunting work, but he was in no position to refuse.

“Just tell me what you need changed, My Lord,” he murmured, lowering his gaze.

“Agent Ninety-Nine took it upon themselves to execute some prisoners-of-war,” the Sluissi Sith explained as though she were commenting on the weather. “Our four witnesses are in the next room. If you could just be a good lad and find those memories, adjust them so that they’re all quite certain that the prisoners were attempting to escape, perhaps turn on their captors… just so long as the deaths are quite acceptably justified, you know how people like things. Oh, and if you could erase the whole dancing part of it…”

Ulfran watched as she slithered away without another word, and then steeled himself with a long, calming breath. You’re not harming anyone. The deaths have already occurred, they were out of your control. Maintaining your cover is more important. Maintaining your cover is more important!

He remembered this day well. And as he returned to those memories, a detail stood out to him that he’d long since forgotten. The Agent in question, skipping and twirling down the streets of Coruscant. He hadn’t paid much attention to her the first time around; for things like this, the less details he took in, the better. The easier it was to avoid situations where he wouldn’t be able to help himself but act on his old training and break his cover. But this time, he recognised her in a heartbeat. And so it was that Acolyte Ulfran turned Nines from a war criminal to a war hero in the eyes of the Empire. And as he did so, as he allowed that despicable act to be so twisted and glossed over, his resolve hardened to steel. He would never, never, allow himself to feel sympathetic to the Imperials in any capacity, no matter how long he worked amongst them.

---

Wheee, I can keep going on this! I can’t believe how long this story is winding up, honestly, but I want to keep my momentum going so that it doesn’t wind up yet another unfinished project, aahaha. Kudos to anyone who’s actually followed along this far! Credit as always to @humanrevolt who created Nines, Lyrisal and Crow and lets me play with them here. :3

[nookishposts]

The Universal Truth

I have been slowly, layer by layer, peeling away my own haz mat suit. I worked hard putting on all of that armour damn it, only to discover that to learn anything at all, I had to undo all of the rusted-shut seams and take the thing off. In doing so, I’ve come face to face with the terror of having absolutely nothing between me and the real world. Yikes. 

Brene Brown maintains that mid-life is an unravelling and what must take the place of that armour is curiosity. Fine, I get that. But the blue plate special of curiosity, (served at 5pm each day now that we are older,) comes with a generous side-dish of potentially paralysing “what-if?”. It’s the odd-looking potato salad we didn’t ask for, next to the fresh juicy burger we’ve been craving. How long has it been sitting in the fridge? What if it’s bad, the mayo is off, it’s made of yesterday’s mashed potatoes dressed up to look legit? It has the potential to spoil the whole meal, so perhaps its best to just avoid it altogether.  Unless.., what if I am missing the best potato salad ever?

If I am honest, I have been “what-if-ing” my way into safe corners for years already, so what if  “what-if” just doesn’t work anymore? What if “what-if” became something else like: “what now?” or “what’s next?” or “what’s new?”

I have watched my Beloved unravel an entire sock she has just finished knitting because there was something about it she felt she needed do better.  I actually gasped out loud the first time I saw her do it, as all I saw was the hours of beautiful work destroyed in about 3 minutes. She just grinned at me, shrugged her shoulders and explained she wouldn’t be able to wear the sock if it didn’t fit properly, so she would simply try again. The only “knitting” I have ever learned to do resulted in chain-mail; protective, flexible to a point, and awfully  heavy to wear full time. It took years of hyper-vigilance to construct, and will take conscious effort as well as time to unravel. Good grief, what if I am naked underneath ?

I’m 60 this year and just applied for my Canada Pension, early. I don’t know where or if I will even be here at 65 which is the usual time to apply. But, mostly self-employed and living simply, I figure I will take what’s offered now and enjoy whatever little extra it amounts to . Too many of my contemporaries are already gone, and I am determined to enjoy the remaining slope of my journey, whether it’s 5 years or 35 years. The subtle creeping question of how I want to live going forward has accelerated into a cosmic swat upside my head...which includes figuring out how I got here in the first place. Each link of that chain mail costume I’ve worn way too long represents a what-if and a calculated risk. Early trauma in my life led me to do one of two things in almost every situation: armour up in self-defence, or attempt to dance on a tightrope woven from delicate filaments of hope. Both of those involved steely resolve. Neither turned out to be risk-free. It is as possible to die in a cage of your own making as it is to take a leap of faith, and fall. I am terrified of both. But the periods of inertia, when I chose to do nothing at all, to cower quietly until the moment passed were where I think I lost the most.

The armour I built has served me very very well, gotten me through some painful times, held me upright when my knees buckled, allowed me to lend my arm as an escort along someone else’s journey, kept me from burning whenever I was forced to dash through flames. But while I was protected from the fire I was also untouched by other wonderful things, like unconditional love, like spontaneity, like being fully present without expectation. Loop by rusted loop, I find I am undoing the knots of fear in hopes of the spontaneous risks of being fully real. I feel like Pinnochio finally understanding the futility of his own fibs. 

Most of my life has in fact been quite wonderful. But as a small child my body was violated so many times that even now, that is where my emotions will express themselves. In those moments of violation, my mind learned to remove itself, but my body took in all of the pain and the terror and the shame; they grew roots in my belly that spread and strangled and clenched my brow, my jaw, my muscles and my lungs. It is my body that betrays me when something awakens the echoes of terror, and the shame of being publicly vulnerable often keeps me away from opportunities to grow and learn. That indefatigable something in each child that saves them from collapsing despair was in me transformed to rage and stored in my organs, roaring forth in explosive moments of rebellion, retreating to simmer in it’s own vicious juices until the next time. On rare occasions it can still happen, even now.  For many years I have understood this process, intellectually at least. But now at 60, the time has come to speak with that enraged and fearful child, unwrap her from her layers of survivalist gear, bathe her clean in unpolluted waters and hold her gently, not too tight, even as she struggles, until she can safely remember how to forgive herself the most of all.

There is something to be said for the “fake it ‘till you make it” strategy, but as life grows shorter and our time too precious to waste energy in just endurance, our masks grow cumbersome and we tire of wearing them.  We divest ourselves of outworn clothing, outworn ideas, excess tasks and trinkets...why not of the behaviours that served us well and are thankfully no longer critical? If we’ve held our both breath and our tongue in order to be polite, make a living, to get through the milestones of adulthood until now, wouldn’t it be good to free them too? Even knowing that sometime, in spite of our best efforts, shit will still happen anyway.

If we are lucky enough to make it to mid-life and rediscover the luxury of choice, we’ve earned a chance to figure out who we really are. We are not our achievements or our mistakes though they certainly contribute to what is left when we distil them to their simplest form. And with that nugget of purity, what shall we do?

I’ve spent a career in helping to create safe spaces for others; through adjunct social services, recreation, volunteering, human resources, and the respectful body work practices I continue now. I have been subconsciously driven to ensure that I would never cause anyone else to be frightened or feel threatened or unsafe in any way. I would offer  support to the extent of my abilities. We tend to choose ( when we can) those jobs which we ourselves will most benefit from, rarely understanding that until we’ve retired from them. Ergo; I’ve spent many many years finding safety and support myself, through trying to extend it to others. To some degree, it has worked. I’ve had the fortune to have met quite a few folks who think similarly, usually because of how they coped with their own traumas. We are sensitive to those who have not had the luxury of choice and who have become stuck in the endless loop of disappointments, knowing that something is missing but not what or how to find it, and endlessly acting out in the name of survival. No judgements. And at the time of life that our bodies begin to remind us that they are in need of more care, more patience , we are forced to slow down, sift through our bag of tricks, and realise the only person we have ever really fooled is ourselves. Which we often don’t need, or even want, to do anymore.

I liken it in some ways to skinny dipping of a summer’s evening; we arrive at the water’s edge dusty from our labours, weary of the journey, in need of a rest and a respite. Before we can get into the water, we have to look around as we worry about who might be watching...we have to get beyond the self-consciousness of our imperfect bodies, that we have aged, living and gravity have taken over,and we might even smell a little funky under our well-worn public personas. Might  somebody steal our clothes when we aren’t looking thinking they are being helpful and hilarious at the same time? And then there’s the lake (stream/river/ocean/waterfall, your choice) itself? What lies beneath the surface? Is it deep? Is it cold? Do we even remember how to swim? Will we be able to make it back to shore once we take the plunge? 

But there it is, right at our feet....a gorgeous expanse of water, perhaps lit dramatically by a setting sun and a rising moon (insert naked joke here) looking so...tempting. It’s quiet but for the breeze and the night birds. It’s just us and an opportunity. There’s nothing in there that wants anything to do with a skinny-dipping human being, and they will happily keep their distance until we are done. It’s so worth the risk for that luscious feeling of freedom, the unencumbered , gentle sluicing away of effort and cares and worries, bodily buoyed by the power of the water as you move through it however you need to, until it’s time to float on your back and watch the stars come out. And release all the held breaths.

If I have to start with one big toe, get goose pimples in all my hidden places, squeal-ease my way in up to my ankles, then my knees, then the sudden “whooo-mama!” entry of those bits of myself the sun seldom sees, well, gol-durn-it I’m gonna do it. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to teach myself at long last that it can be okay to be carefree, to trust, to float, to get out of my head and look up. I want to be held like a small child learning to swim, and feel the easy, sensual power of my limbs understand how to propel me forward from wonder to wonder. I want to skinny-dip from the soul on out. I don’t care who’s watching. 

[teamkaiforever]

FAMILY                         

(requested by lovely-wagner)

Bonkai Fanfiction word count : 2 475 summary : Bonnie and Kai are a couple , its been a few years since they had gotten together and now … someone has a surprise ;) *not my gif _________________________

At first when Bonnie started having feelings for Kai , she thought something has gone horribly wrong with her because their history was .. well , complicated to say the least. For a long time Kai had been the enemy and even after Bonnie ditched Kai in not one but two Prison Worlds , Kai hadn’t been able to think about anyone else but her. He came back from Hell and all he wanted was to see her. Things hadn’t worked out well the first time they saw each other again - she sent him to another prison world … Later on Bonnie came back for him to ask if he’d be willing to undo the spell linking her and Elena. Kai had agreed and Bonnie had made him promise to leave town in exchange for his freedom. Shortly after they ran into each other … She didn’t trust him at first but eventually she saw he had changed and fell in love with him. Bonnie’s friends weren’t too happy about it but as long as Kai behaved and Bonnie was happy - they were fine with it , but they still kept a close eye on Kai waiting for him to screw up… He never did and eventually they learned to trust him too.

About 5 years later…

Bonnie and Kai were sitting in their livingroom enjoying some quiet time. Bonnie was reading a book and Kai … he was enjoying watching her read. He was trying to figure out how to bring up the subject he wanted to talk to her about , specially considering what he had already done behind her back. “So , BonBon … I’ve been thinking” Kai said breaking the silence. “Why don’t we adopt a kid ?” Bonnie looked surprised , he had never said anything about having kids in all the time they’ve been together. She wondered what had prompted this… “You want a kid ?” she asked putting her book down. “Yeah , actually.” he said scratching his chin nervously. “Never thought I’d say this.” he laughed and Bonnie smiled. “You changed me and you are still changing me… and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I can’t be a father myself because of the vampirism but we can still raise a mini you running around the house. That will be fun. What do you think ?” he said looking very excited about her answer. Bonnie liked the idea , tho she couldn’t quite imagine Kai as a father. He’d say the inappropriate thing or the kid’s teacher would say / do something he doesn’t like and he’d use his magic on them… Then again he had changed and she had been thinking about them being parents too , specially with all their friends having kids. “Why not a mini you?” she asked smiling. “Oh no , I like the idea of raising a mini you better.” he said smiling. “Who would want to raise a mini me ? It would be hell… ” Kai laughed. Every time Kai smiled , Bonnie couldn’t help but smile too. “You surprise me.” she said smiling. “I surprised myself.” Kai said , wiking at her and for a moment a devilish look sparked through his eyes. Kai’s expression changed suddenly and he got all serious. “I want to be a father , Bonnie.” he said nervously. “I want to give my child all the love and attention I was denied… I want the kid to be proud of me being his dad. I know for sure he or she will be proud of having you as his mom.” Kai said smiling nervously. “You will want to send me flying across the room in a moment … because I may have already arranged a meeting at the adoption agency for … tomorrow morning.” Bonnie’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected this and for a moment she considered throwing him across the room with her magic for going ahead with things before even talking to her… Then she saw the look on his face - his eyes filled with hope and love , he was playing nervously with his fingers and looked so much like a little boy who had messed up trying to do the right thing and the corners of her mouth twitched. “At what time?” Bonnie asked softly and smiled at him. Kai couldn’t help but smile back. “At 9.30AM. ” he said. “So you are not mad at me for going ahead without you?” “No.” she said softly , her hand on his cheek. “I can see how much it means to you … and I’ve already been thinking about it too. Seeing Caroline with the twins and now Elena and Damon.” she pressed her lips on his , Kai pulled her closer and kissed her deeply. “You will be a great father , Kai.” she said smiling and he smiled at her too. “… but I am making you pay for going about this behind my back.” Bonnie said winking at him before leaning in to kiss him again.

- -

The next day Kai was awake before dawn , he had hardly slept during the night from excitement. He couldn’t wait for them to go to the adoption agency in a few hours. Kai brushed Bonnie’s cheek with the back of his hand , watching her sleep and still unable to believe things had worked out the way they had. Ever since he saw Bonnie for the first time he felt something for her , only after the merge he realised what those feelings have been and how majorly he had screwed up. The day he finally got Bonnie’s forgiveness was one of the happiest in his life … the happiest however being the day she told him she loved him. He waited a while before waking her up with a kiss , just like every morning since they had been together.

They got to the angency about half an hour earlier because Kai had been so impatient driving on the way there. After they talked to the adoption agent for a while before she took them to see the kids playing in the backyard. There were so many kids , different ages - from little ones to 10-13 year olds running around playing tag , playing with a ball or drawing on the ground with chalkboards. A small ball rolled on the ground and stopped bumping into Kai’s feet. He knelt down to pick it up and when he looked up his eyes saw a little boy , 2-3 years old maybe , smiling at him with semi toothless smile. The little boy’s eyes were blue and he had brown hair just like Kai. He smiled back at the boy and held out the ball towards him. “Heey. ” Kai said smiling. “I think this is your ball.” The boy took the ball from Kai and in his hands it looked so much bigger than it really was. “Do you want to play with me ?” Kai asked softly and the little boy jumped excitedly taking Kai’s hand in his. Kai smiled feeling happiness he hadn’t even known existed, the little boy reminded him a little of himself or maybe it was just the resemblance between them. He already liked the kid and they’ve barely spent a few moments together. Kai turned around a gave Bonnie a smile. She was currently talking to the adoption agent about all the formalities and things that have to be done after they’ve chosen a kid. Bonnie kept looking at Kai and the little boy playing with the ball and laughing. It seemed they liked each other already. He had knelt on the ground and the boy gave him a hug , a surprise hug-attack Kai hadn’t seen coming and nearly got knocked over. He turned around and saw Bonnie laughing , catching a part of the conversation with his vampire hearing. “He has a sister.” the woman said. “A twin to be more precise.” Kai froze on the spot and gently pushed away the little kid. “I’ll be right back.” Kai said smiling, ruffling the little boy’s hair and watching him run to play with the other kids. Bonnie looked nervous. She saw how much Kai had the little boy and how much the kid liked him , but twins ? Surely Kai hadn’t had in mind two kids let alone twins… “It’s ideally if you can take both , a separation would be traumatic for them at such a young age…” the woman said , just noticing Kai had joined them. “He seems to like you.” Kai only nodded in response , his eyes searching among the kids for the boy’s sister … and then he saw her. They resembled each other so much - she had the same blue eyes and dark brown hair. He couldn’t look away. “What are their names?” Kai asked. The little girl noticed he was watching and smiled and waved at him. He waved back at her and looked at the ground. “Jake and Katie.” Kai’s gaze stayed on the ground , he looked very interested in his shoes shifting on his feet nervously every few minutes as Bonnie kept talking to the adoption agent. He wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation , instead he was trying to find a way to tell Bonnie he wanted not one but two kids now. “Excuse me ..” Bonnie said to the woman and placed her hand on Kai’s shoulder. “Kai , are you OK?” she asked worried. He looked up and nodded , his eyes drifting towards the little boy , his sister and back towards Bonnie. “Could we have a minute alone?” he asked the adoption agent and she nodded. “Of course. I’ll be in my office when you are ready with the decision.” Kai waited until they were alone , looking more nervous than Bonnie has ever seen him before. “We can’t separate them.” Kai said. “They are family. I know what it’s like to be separated from your family and it hurts , even if my family were a bunch of … ” he stopped himself taking in a deep breath. “We can’t do that to them. I know this isn’t what we talked about but … can we adopt both of them?” Bonnie cupped his face and smiled. She had already fallen in love with the twins and the effect they had on Kai. Seeing him play with Jake and the way he kept glancing at Katie , ready to jump in to her rescue at any second… it warmed her heart. “Are you sure about this , because there is no going back later. It will only break their hearts if they get sent back.” she asked softly. “Yes. I’m sure and it seems fitting , I’m a … I was a twin too. Maybe this is a chance to make up for past mistakes. Plus..” he said turning to look at the kids. “They are so cute ! Look at them !” Kai couldn’t tear his eyes off the little kids playing tag and Bonnie couldn’t look away from him. Part of her had expected him to back out his idea of adopting a kid but instead he dug his heels deeper. Seeing his soft side had been one of the reasons why she fell in love with him. “They seem like nice kids and with a mother like you they’ll be the luckiest kids in the world! ” he said , his fingers carressing her cheek. “We can be a family. A big happy family.” Bonnie pressed her lips against his and took his hand. “Come on…” she said smiling and pulled him behind her towards the adoption agent’s office.

Usually Bonnie was against Kai using compulsion on people but it sped up the adoption process. He couldn’t wait another moment to bring the twins home. Somehow the little kids had found their way in his heart and he promised himself to protect and love them always. A few hours later all the paperwork had been done and the adoption agent had called for Jake and Katie to be brought in her office. Bonnie and Kai knelt down to meet Jake and Katie’s eyes. The little kids looked a little confused and scared probably thinking they are in trouble. Kai smiled and took their hands in his hands , Bonnie’s head resting on his shoulder. She counldn’t stop smiling. Kai glanced at Bonnie and she nodded. “You tell them.” she said. “Jake , Katie … We are going to be your parents , you mom and dad and we will love you forever and ever.” he said softly. Jake and Katie’s faces lit up with happiness at Kai’s words , jumping in to hug them a split second later. Kai wrapped his hands around the Katie , closing his eyes for a moment. She was so small and fragile he worried he might break her. Katie didn’t want to let go of him and he got up with her , her hands holding onto him. Jake was in Bonnie’s arms. The adoption agent smiled. “Congratulations !” she said. Kai reached in his pocket to get out his phone. “Do you mind taking our first picture as a family?” he asked smiling. His eyes were filled with happy tears and he tried hard to push them away , at least for the time being. “Of course.” she said , taking the phone from Kai’s hands and taking a few pictures - one when they weren’t expecting and another when they posed as a family. “Thank you for everything.Now our family is complete. ” Bonnie said to the adoption agent and shook hands with her. “What do you say we go for an ice cream? ” Bonnie said and reached out to tickle Katie, making her laugh. “Ice cream !” the twins squeeled with excitement making Bonnie and Kai laugh.

Bonnie and Kai took them to the best ice cream place in town and bought giant piles of ice cream with cherry on top and sprinkles and everything else the kids pointed at. Kai took his phone out of his pocket and took a selfie - him , Bonnie and the twins smiling and hugging. “This is my favorite picture!” he said proudly looking at his phone. “This is going everywhere - Twitter , Facebook, Instagram …” “Don’t forget Snapchat.” Bonnie said winking at him before pulling him in for a kiss.

* * *

When they got home , there was a surprise for Bonnie and Kai. Well , more for Kai and the twins. Earlier that day Bonnie had sent a text to Elena and Caroline without Kai noticing and walking in their house everywhere there were balloons and a giant banner saying WELCOME HOME , the twin’s room already ready for Jake and Katie just to hop in there and play with all the stuffed toys and cars. Later on that night , Bonnie and Kai stood at the door watching Jake and Katie sleep. Kai had hugged her from behind , his head gently resting on her shoulder , their fingers intertwined , both of them smiling. “I love you , Bonnie Bennett.” he said softly , squeezing her body gently. “I love you too Malachai Parker.” she said turning her head a little so she can kiss him.

_____________________ MASTERLIST March / April 2017 ______________________

[badmuslim-blog1]

10-In-One

Jan 29, 2019

Well, It’s been ages since my last journal. Technically a year, since last it was 2018 and now we’ve entered the new year. I guess I should explain what’s happened because a lot has happened the past month. New Year's Eve, the searing abdominal pains began. It was maybe 1am when I decided I couldn’t take it anymore and sent my sister to wake my mother so they would take me to the hospital. When the nurses couldn’t find a vein to puncture after multiple tries, I cried, realizing for the first time that I was deteriorating at a dangerous rate. It wasn’t just for show anymore. They tried to make me food upon returning but I refused once again, this time I wrote my mother a letter explaining why even at this point I wasn’t willing to eat, be sure to add a forgiving and inoffensive tone as a last-ditch effort to force her hand if nothing else. I was very weak, I couldn’t stand long without losing balance, and the nausea was the most excruciating of the side effects.

A few days later I secretly ate some food, fried kubba, banana, some nuts, hoping to be at least momentarily freed from swarming nausea. The more I would pile in, the more I began to feel the food jam in my esophagus, pushing up my throat until finally, I threw it all up. That scared me more than anything, trying to undo my starvation only to realize that my body wasn’t accepting it. My body had rejected the first bite of food I had had in a month and I didn’t even have internet to google ‘how to un-starve yourself’. After that, the nausea was worse than ever, I would be heaving every few minutes, I couldn’t tolerate the smell or sight of nearly every food, even water made me sick. So now not only am I hurtling down a mortal mountain of malnourishment but I couldn’t hydrate either. If they didn’t bring a city doctor to me the next day that was able to materialize a usable vein to stick an IV in, I would have been dead in a matter of days.

After my mom read the letter I wrote to her, she brought me her phone with a woman talking on speaker, it was her friend from Ottawa, khala Souad. I always liked her for her ’say yes’ attitude that she had towards her daughter that she once even tried to unsuccessfully pass onto my mother. Essentially she was telling me that if I stopped starving myself and promised to be ‘different’, she and my mother were going to help me leave. Secretly help me go back to Canada, out of the country, alone. Emphasis on the ‘secretly’. It seemed my suspicions and fears of my mother handing over her rights over us to our bio-dad was right. I couldn’t really understand how they would accomplish such a task. She said she was going to get me a passport and after I become well again, within 2 months they could get me out. At that point I was overemotional simply overhearing the voice of a third party, someone not here and not already intertwined in my mother's schemes and webbed lies for the first time in months. She told me to trust her and take her word on it, saying she would guarantee my fate. I was busy pouring out my anger over the way my mother had treated me and my frustration over my unfair situation. I didn’t verbally agree at that time but after that call, I did start trying to eat again. On or after the 30th day of my hunger strike, I officially put it to rest.

It took days and days of enduring sleepless nights of excruciating nausea but eventually, my body that was being replenished by sweet and salty IVs began allowing me to eat again. My body began the healing process and had chosen to forgive me for my transgressions, my abuse against it and it’s efficiency and survival. Around the same time I was feeling extremely abandoned, helpless and alone and so I consciously manifested a way to cope. Their names were Samak and Fadak. Two cherub-like figures made entirely of light. There were no distinguishable features or physical characteristics. Their voices were the voice of kindness, reason, and they helped me reality test and look at everything that was happening objectively, while at the same time comforting me and giving me calm advice and consolation. Ego incarnated in the form of the friend that I desperately needed in those times to keep my sanity. They still visit me now when I’m feeling very anxious, distressed and alone. Essentially I am learning to consolidate, embrace and openly bring to life the tools and coping mechanisms I need to keep myself mentally healthy.

On January 14 I finally mustered the courage to ask my mom to get me her friend on the phone. A couple days later I asked again and she said she had guests and her husband was home from his travel-bound job so she would get back to me in a few days. It’s been at least a week now and I fear my mothers old patters of deceit have come out to play. At this point, I only need to get her on the phone once so I can say all I need to say at once and leave the rest to her to translate to my mother. In a way she can understand, mother to mother.

My sister has plummeted into a pit of disrespect, rudeness, and constant childish, petty, toddler behavior. She yells and talks back to me and especially my mother. Yesterday in a scuffle she defied my mother and my mom took the opportunity to spout some of her internal justifications, saying that being here has just brought out everyones ‘true colours’. Followed by remarks about how if we had stayed in Canada, this was the kind of behaviour she surely would have began portraying in a few short years. When I chimed in saying she was never like this until months of being stuck here without a say or any control in the matter, she responded with the familiar, “this is your fault, you corrupted her, you put these thoughts in her mind about having a ‘right’ to this and that and so you are why she’s acting the way she is”. That was really the point I realised my mother didn’t have any changes of heart or mind, my letter didn’t break through any walls, she still doesn’t understand believe my thriving for self-agency and independence. Which lead to me feeling like, once again, I needed to return to my keyboard. My message to Khala Souad, in short, will be a warning. If they go back on their word and I am not out of here by the time they promised, she should effectively let my mother know that of my view on. The matter. “There are two ways this will end. One, I will leave safely by March with my mothers assistance and blessing meaning I will likely maintain communication and attempt to forgive her transgressions towards me and eventually repair our relationship. Two I will leave without her assistant at a time outside her knowledge by April. I will run away and attempt an escape entirely on my own and upon returning, I will not make any effort to maintain any kind of relationship with her nor any contacts. In fact, I will make an effort to keep to my word when I told her she would never see me again once I got out. “