#chew them into a tiny fine paste to help break them down and prevent my intestines being skewered)

[bunnyb34r]

Is it an IBS flare, mild food poisoning, or the influx of fucking fiber I've been inhaling bc I don't have any "acceptable" snacks atm?

[syndianites]

The After; The Athar: Chapter One

Chapter 1/?

Chapter 1 [Here] - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. The crew finally land back into the world after the events of Ruxomar. That should be a good thing, right? But Wag is feeling the burden of everything that has happened to him, and he didn’t even get his magic back to boot.

It’s hard to be happy when life has been so shitty.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: I’ve been working on this since September? of 2019! I have 5 chapters done and still going. I wanted to wait to post this until I was done with it, but my impatience has gotten the better of me.

@the-moon-pal I’m coming for your crown king >:)

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They’d made it home a couple weeks ago, to the land of Mianite. It’d been such a relief. They got to meet the rest of the alts, got to watch Dianite meet the other gods- and cringe at the tension that crackled between them- got to find all their homes again. For once, in the past-however-long, there was peace. They could relax.

So why did Wag feel like utter shit?

Right. Because he literally got the worst part of the deal.

He thought his powers would come back when they got home. And they did, for a few hours. Not the full range, but a lot of it. It felt good to be full of magic again. It felt like he was himself.

But then things started to fall apart. Martha grew distant. His powers fell away in fits and bursts. He realized that the rest of FyreUK had moved on after they made amends in Ruxomar. They found their way on. Without him.

Nothing was the same, he realized, as he spent more time around the place they had called ‘home.’

Spark had done what he did best: built a city. Well, more like a village. What had once been a place of buildings thrown about at random and mostly open plains was now sparsely populated. Neatly arranged shops and a few houses took up the space next to the beach. New people had even begun to show up.

Everything was changing around him, yet he was stuck holding onto the past. Holding onto his wizardhood, to his brotherhood, to a partner that was farther now than ever, and- worst of all- he was still holding onto the hope that everything would just… go back. To how it was.

To when he was important.

Well, like fuck is he was going to sit around and loathe his existence. He could at least try to do something. Swear to Athar, he wasn’t going to turn into a lump of depression just because he couldn’t handle change! He’d rather be a walking mass of depression! That way he could at least pretend he was being productive.

Potions or spellbooks? A question as old as time. Potions were a staple in his life. If there was one thing that would never leave him, it was his ability to make fucking potions. Like, fucking make potions. Not potions to help people fuck. On the other hand, the more he poured through spellbooks, the more likely he was to get closer to finding out how to get his powers back.

Maybe his powers left when FyreUK left, taking all the glory of Athar with it. But that was too terrible of a thought, so that got chucked in the ‘not-today-bitch’ bin. Which was a handy dandy mental bin that stored all of his worst problems.

He never could fit himself in it, though.

So potions it was.

Now that he was out of the business of magic, most of his money came from his potion making. He had made yet another little wizard- alchemist? Potion master?- tower. Plopped some advertisements in el Pueblo de Spark and took orders to pass the time. He had to fund his botany experiments somehow.  Someone had to introduce weed into this world, that might as well be him.

If he was going down in history for something, that wasn’t ‘Word Renowned Wizard Extraordinaire’, then ‘The Guy who Made Weed’ would sure as hell work. 

Wag pulled up his log of orders. Luck, luck, dexterity, healing, luck, love- yeah, those didn’t really work but he’d make it anyways-, strength, luck, yadda, yadda, yadda. Lots of luck. He could probably get away with making a batch or two of luck potions, then work through the rest.

He spared a glance outside. Spark’s little hut-square town was beginning to develop into a pleasant little fishing hole. Surprisingly- or not, given how deep the waters were nearby- the place was actually a fairly hot place for single fish to mingle. Warm waters, nice and deep, lots of cover, and not much human interference. Until now, anyway.

Either the fishermen were starting to get a fair amount of revenue going or they really needed help. Luck potions were among his most expensive. The ingredients were hard to acquire regardless of how you made it.

Rabbit’s foot? Morally and physically hard to get a hold of. Rainbow trout? Terribly rare. ‘Star-light Fruit’? Not even confirmed to exist.

His method was a little more straightforward. A butt load of four-leaf clovers, a tiny bit of alcohol, and a fuckton of glitter. Clovers for the magic, glitter for the look, and alcohol for the feeling of being lucky.

It was a very bullshit potion.

It took forever to find the clovers, let alone collect them.

Athar give him strength.

Giving one last look outside, he tucked his log book in his cloak. Then he went and rummaged through his chests.

Monotony here he comes.

~~~

Wag was halfway through his second batch of luck potions when a distant knock came from his door, followed by the sound of bells. If not for the bells he’d have ignored the knocking. With a stretch, he putzed down the stairs. The many flights of stairs.

He missed being able to make elevators.

Opening the door revealed one Mr. Sparklez, hair tousled but otherwise neatly groomed. He was relaxed, if not a little winded from his trek up the hill Wag claimed as his own.

Wag smiled. “Hey Sparklez, what brings you up to my tower of terror today? Here for a chat or a swanky danky potion?”

He gestured for Jordan to head inside and get comfortable, but the man waved him off. “Actually,” Jordan started, “I was wondering if you’d seen Martha? I needed to ask her something and I haven’t seen her all day. Figured she’d be with you.”

Ah, so Jordan wanted to find Martha.

Ouch.

Doing his best to ignore the squeeze in his chest, Wag kept his smile firmly in place. “No, I don’t think I have. She, uh.” He paused, going for a nonchalant shrug. “She doesn’t come around the tower all that often. I’d ask Spark instead. She tends to hang around him more. Her good ole pops and all, y’know. They do have a lot to catch up on.” Wag tried to ignore how weak his words sounded. He didn’t want it to sound weird that Martha wouldn’t come around, but instead he just sounded pathetic.

Great.

Jordan gave Wag an awkward smile, seemingly uncomfortable with the sad display. “Ah, alright. I’ll ask around for Spark.” 

He turned to leave but caught himself before he was fully turned away. Jordan chewed on his words. “Are you-” His eyes swept over Wag. “How have you been? We don’t see you as much anymore. Other than Tom, I guess, but it's hard to get rid of Tom once he decides you’re friends, y’know?”

“I’ve been,” Wag wanted to laugh, but pushed through the sentence, “swell, thank you. I would get out more, but I’m always so busy potion making. Gotta pay the bills somehow.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t the exact truth, but he did spend a lot of time on potions.

Letting his shoulders settle, Jordan gave a small laugh. “Who would press a wizard to pay bills? Someone who wants to catch on fire, I’m sure.” He opted for a friendly smile. “If you ever want to hang out or something, let me know. I’ve been getting kind of bored between Spark telling me how to be a better champion of Ianite and living in an actual, peaceful society.”

Wag waved after Jordan as he began his descent. Yeah, a wizard. A frown tugged at his face while he shut the door.

A real fucking wizard.

~~~

Making potions was rather methodical. Each step took a certain amount of time, each item had certain effects, meshed certain ways with other items. It was like following a recipe, but with bigger consequences for messing up. Cooler results, though.

Wag had just finished melting down the clovers he’d gathered and extracting the essence- which is to say he lit it on fire after sprinkling a generous amount of blaze powder on it- when Jordan had stopped by. Which was convenient, since he needed to wait for the weird half-liquid half-slime to cool off enough to move it. The awkward potions, glitter, and alcohol were already prepped. Now all he needed to do was mix shit together.

Oh joy.

At the very least, it was satisfying to roll the clover essence into little balls to plop into an awkward potion and then watch them dissolve. The clover gave the essence a natural, healthy green color while the blaze powder, which clung to even the most thoroughly washed slime, gave it something of a yellow highlight. Golden glitter gets dumped in to make it feel like you were about to drink something special. Yes, the glitter was edible. No, most people didn’t realize he put glitter in this shit. Then the alcohol was for that background buzz. It was meant to dull the senses just enough to trick people into believing, wholeheartedly, in whatever god-forsaken abomination he just made.

Sorry. What ever divinely crafted, totally safe potion he’d just made.

Sure, he didn’t test it himself, but it seemed to work well enough for the people he gave it to. So where was the harm?

It was fine.

The next part was perhaps the most boring. And he’d spent all day yesterday crawling on the ground looking for four-leaf clovers.

Tagging and packaging. Writing names on slips of paper, tying them to the potion, putting it in a small, padded box to prevent any breaks. Rinse, repeat. It was annoying, wasted money, all that jazz, but it helped the look. Who wants to be handed a regular old potion, by hand, when you can get it in some majestic looking box to really add some sparkle to your magic?

Maybe Ruxomar rubbed off on him in a bad way.

In any case, the look was important, and by Athar was he going to make it look fucking fantastic.

Unfortunately, this task was also terribly, horribly monotonous. Worse yet, it left room for thinking. And thinking was Wag’s least favorite pastime since floating in the Void. Especially since floating in the Void.

It lead to him thinking deeply about himself and Athar knows that most of his life problems could be traced right back to that. His mistakes, his fuck ups, his shortcomings, all of it came back to him thinking way too hard about himself. 

Gross.

Instead, he tried to run over potion recipes in his mind. Or any recipe, really. All the different ways to make a fire resistance potion when you don’t have magma cream. Counting how many potions used lemongrass. Figuring out what potions would make it more likely to catch fish. Literally anything. As long as it was potions, it was fine.

Not about himself, not about Athar, not about wizards, and not about… Martha.

Yeah, that last one would be a one hit k-o. 

But now that his mind had touched on the subject, it dug in. Sunk it's claws into the delicate stability of his mind. Dramatic, he knows, but that’s how it felt. It was like the more he tried to get the thought out of his mind, the further it burrowed into him. Awful, painful, and not even worth the effort.

Martha… clearly didn’t care about him anymore. Or, well. He winced at the thought. She didn’t love him like she used to. If she, uh. Did in the first place. But this was old news. This was something he pondered after she seemed to avoid him like the plague, seemed to grimace when she looked over and saw him and not him.

Steve.

The name sat heavy in his head. They hadn’t meshed well, ‘specially where Martha was concerned. But they managed, for her, because they loved her.

Wag felt guilty, looking back on it now. For stealing their time together, for messing with their relationship. They hadn’t gotten to be together enough, had lost too much time before-

Yeah, he didn’t like thinking about Steve more than he didn’t like thinking about Martha. Wag didn’t feel like he deserved to think the name, let alone put himself up against his image. Steve was a hero. He rebelled against Helgrind in a cunning, intelligent way, he was selfless in more aspects than any of the heroes that appeared in Ruxomar, and he was the one to sacrifice the most. To sacrifice it all.

Where did Wag stand against that?

Honestly, it was no wonder Martha couldn’t stand to look at him. He was just a reminder of Steve, a reminder that she didn’t have Steve. That she had him instead. 

Had she ever loved him?

That wasn’t the point. The point was that Martha was hurting, trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind in Ruxomar. What she had lost. And Wag wasn’t doing anything to help. He was stuck up in his tower, making potions, trying to forget about everything that he wasn’t.

He should try to look for her.

But the last time he did, he got turned away. She was “catching up with her father.” She was “busy settling into the new world.” She was “trying to get a grip on her new goddesshood.”

Wag was persistent, but even he could get the hint.

By Athar, he got the hint. “I don’t want to see you.” “Don’t come near me.” “You can’t help me.” 

He wondered if Spark was doing anything to help her or if he was also caught up in everything that had happened. From what he had learned about the man in Ruxomar, he was devoted to his wife. No, he gave everything for his wife. Learning she was dead after working up everything to see her again?

He had played it well. When he heard the news, Spark kept strong, only letting his tears show. If he had gone home later after parting with Martha, who had her own grief and guilt, crumbling on the inside no one would know. And if he had locked himself away and let everything loose, let himself break, none would be the wiser. But they could guess, they could give him a passing glance, a thoughtful frown.

Wag wondered if he still carried that grief around with him.

Spark had taken to trying to discipline Jordan to be a better champion of Ianite. It had made the man uncomfortable with getting told he could be a better follower and all. Or rather, having it implied that he wasn’t the best follower. Spark was stubborn in ‘training’ the champion of Ianite to be a full fledged follower.

Still, Jordan didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

Wag understood. Having the husband of the very goddess you watched die get on your case about being a better follower? When the crushing weight of guilt hadn’t fully let off your shoulders? He wondered if Spark hadn’t taken to coaching Jordan to make himself feel better, to remind himself that he would have kept Ianite safe, that he would have fixed the world before it broke out from under them.

It sounded like torture.

But it helped settle Wag. Call him selfish, but he felt better knowing other people had real problems, real grief, to deal with. Sure, Wag had his hang up with Martha. Yeah, he had his issues with being-a-wizard-yet-not. But he wasn’t as close to neck deep as Spark was. Like Martha was.

He wished belittling his problems made them feel less suffocating.

Martha. Martha was still pushing him away. And he was letting her. What did that say about him? About their relationship?

A sigh heaved out of his chest. It was like someone stuck a large rock right in his rib cage, tucked neatly between his lungs. Hard, heavy, and an all around burden. Potions. He needed to think about potions.

His hands betrayed him with a subtle shake. How many names did he have left to write? How many boxes did he have left to pack? Fuck if he knew. He had to keep counting, to find a way to wrap up all his issues, his panic, his fear, into a nice little package and tuck it away like a forgotten gift.

Athar help me, Wag tried to control his thoughts, I might drive myself insane by the end of the year.

As if on cue, another knock at his door broke his thoughts. He tried not to feel relieved to rush away from his potion packaging. He was fine, cool as a cucumber.

Throwing open the door, he came face to face with his second visitor of the day. Tom.

Tom was standing in front of his door almost uncertainly, like he wasn’t quite sure why or how he got there. He took one sweep over Wag’s unhidden face and a determined, focus look set in on his own.

“We,” Tom looped his arm around Wag’s in a sudden movement, “are going out somewhere. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.” 

Eyebrows shooting up, Wag let himself be dragged from his house with an aborted motion to close the door behind him. He mournfully watched his door stay ajar. Hopefully no one else ventured up the hill today, otherwise he might be down a few potions.

“Why?” Wag turned his attention back to Tom, who was resolute in his intention of pulling Wag away to Athar knows where.

A grin was shot in his direction. “You look like you need to get out of the house. Also, I’m real fuckin’ bored and you’re clearly in need of some company.”

A wry smile snuck on Wag’s face. “Oh lucky me. We should get some tea, live up to our trademark.”

Tom nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s hit town. Fuck it up. Flaunt our hero-ness and get shit faced.”

“Let’s not get shit faced, and especially not get kicked out of town for making a ruckus.” Wag fondly rolled his eyes. “I do quite like living here and it’d be a shame to have to follow you around to make sure you don’t die.”

Tom gave a mocked offended gasp, free hand coming up to his forehead as he leaned away. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’d never die if I didn’t live in a community. I’m a rogue, don’t you know.” He sniffed. “I can easily hold my own in the dangerous wilds.”

“Without anyone to pester and annoy?”

“I can pester anything!”

Wag bit his lip to stop a laugh. Tom always brought such energy with him. It was refreshing. Maybe he was right, he just needed some company.

He wouldn’t say that to his face, though.

“I suppose so,” Wag continued, “You are rather persistent. I bet you could annoy the sun into setting early.”

“Nah, I’d blow that fucker up instead.” Tom winked, snuggled back up to Wag, effectively trapping his arm. “I still think we should get shit faced. Drink our sorrows into the drain, throw them up another day.” 

Wag mock gagged. “I’d rather keep them down the drain, thank you. Besides, what a waste of alcohol. If I’m drinking, I’m drinking to keep it down. Not!” He quickly cut Tom off, “That I want to go out drinking.” He eyed the sky, giving a disapproving look to Tom when he saw that it was still early afternoon. “No one should be getting drunk before the sun touches the horizon.”

With a pout, Tom leaned into Wag’s side. “Lame. I suppose,” he drew out the word, “we could go get some good old fashioned tea. Call it a pre-game without the game.”

Wag rolled his eyes. He wasn’t looking to out game his issues. That wasn’t a solution. It’d just make him turn into a sad drunk and give him a headache in the morning.

This is why he needed weed back.

But also, he didn’t want to develop another problem. Gotta keep it clean. For now.

Tom still had his own plans, alcohol or no alcohol. “I find when I’m feeling down that doing something batshit stupid makes me feel better. We should go fishing with our bare hands- no, with only our teeth- and no shirt on. Attract ladies and gents to us alike. Are they looking at our finely chiseled chests or our daring courage? Who’s to say.”

“You are far from chiseled my friend. Try soft.” Wag poked Tom in the stomach jokingly. “And who said that I’m feeling down?”

“Hey!” Tom swatted his hand away. “I’ll have you know I’m more ripped than you’ll ever be!” He huffed, squeezing Wag’s arm. They walked in silence for a moment, now upon the town. After wandering the street for a second, Tom spoke again, quieter. “I had this feeling.” Wag eyes him. “It was weird. My gut was telling me to check in on you. And then when you opened the door it was written on your face. Even I’m not dumb enough to miss that.” 

Wag heard the unspoken I was worried carried in Tom’s words. Talk about soft. He squeezed Tom’s arm back. “Oh wow, a gut feeling?” He teased lightly, “I think it was just you missing my magical presence. It is hard to go too long without seeing me.” If only that were true. “But I’m here now, and we can go do something absolutely stupid, just for you.”

They share a smile, a quiet thank you floating between them.

Tom gets a glint in his eyes. “Does this mean we can go catch fish with our bare hands?”

“I suppose so.” Wag drawled. “How else are we going to show off our toned figures?”

That got him a laugh, one concerningly maniacal, and he was dragged between houses.

Yeah, he might regret this.

Tom turned and gave him a smile that was all teeth and no common sense. He paused next to the shore, a little ways off from the docks. Shucking his clothes, one Tom Syndicate stood proudly in his underwear, unconcerned about the effect of sunlight on zombified skin. People gave them a look of distaste.

Oh, he was definitely going to regret this. 

~~~

Soggy was one way to describe how Wag felt. Wet as shit was another. All in all, he was rather pleased with himself and the rather large, shiny fish sitting in his lap. The fish which so happened to be a fair amount larger than Tom’s.

“Oh fuck you.” Tom spluttered around a mouthful of fish, laying down an arm’s length away. He had gathered quite an amount of fish, a solid number for catching something with your mouth alone. None of them were that large. In fact, most were an average, if not slightly below, size.

Wag eyed the pile smugly. He may have only caught two, but damn if he didn’t go big.

“Well, it seems that I’ve caught myself a winner.” He tried not to look too pleased. The look on Tom’s face told him he failed.

Tom scoffed, letting the fish fall to the sandy floor with a wet fwop. “You got lucky! Clearly, quantity wins the game here. Sure, you caught one big, old, dumb motherfucker, but I caught a dozen other dumbass fish! I should get the win.”

“Wasn’t size the goal here?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

Before Tom could fire back, a voice from behind interrupted him. “I think the two fools sitting in their underwear soaked to the bone are both losers.”

Wag tilted his head back to see Tucker standing with his hands in his pockets, back slouched, and an easy smile on his face, standing just where the sand turned to grass. Next to him was one lovely fox lady, Sonja herself, and one Sparkle butt, Jordan.

Nice to see the gang all here.

Tom sat up. “How dare you! I’ll have you know we are the best fishers on the island!”

Tucker raised a single eyebrow. “Really now? Are all the other fishers out at sea today?”

“Well excuse you, Mr. Boner. I’ll have you know we caught all of this,” Tom sweeps his arm across their score. “And I think that’s quite the haul.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Fuck you.”

Tucker snickered, moving closer to poke his foot into Tom’s side. “That’s what I thought.”

Wag, meanwhile, was carefully moving his prize to the side so he could stand up. Brushing the sand off himself, he exchanged a smile with Sonja and a nod with Jordan. Sonja gave him a good natured headshake. “And here I thought you were smarter than this.”

Jordan’s eyes trailed down Wag’s chest before flittering away. “Right down to your boxers? Tom must have gotten you good.”

“Well, I was fairly set on getting a nice cup of tea and walking across the beach, hand in hand like real lovers, but Tom was far more intent to go all macho and catch fish with his mouth alone.” Wag leaned in with a hand against his mouth to give a stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think he’s trying to step up his oral game.” He winked.

Jordan groaned, giving Wag what he thought to be a rather dramatic eye roll. That wasn’t even the worst he had to offer, and he’d given him such an easy setup! Sonja waggled her eyebrows and giggled when Tom butted in. “It’ll never be as good as yours dear.” He batted his eyelashes mock innocently.

The group burst into laughter. Tucker stepped closer, swinging an arm around his vaguely damp shoulders. “Hey, it’s nice to see you out and about man. It’s been a hot second. Almost thought you’d drank the wrong potion and kicked it or something.” 

Wag nodded seriously. “Quite the real possibility. Why, just yesterday I almost drank real glitter! The kind you’re not supposed to eat.”

“Been there,” Sonja added, “I thought I was going to die when I did. Just gave me a very colorful trip to the bathroom.”

Tom grinned as he moved to elbow Jordan in the side. “I bet our good ole Captain here wouldn’t know the difference. How else did he get his namesake, right Mr. Sparkley Butt?”

“Hardy har,” Jordan gave Tom a fondly disgusted look. “The name’s Captain Sparklez, that ‘namesake’ came from you giving me a stupid nickname.”

They fell into more chatter, giving Tom and Wag the time to put their clothes back on, Tom not caring that he was still wet as he put his suit back on, while Wag just slung his cloak over himself. No point in putting pants on over wet underwear.

The group, all now clothed to some extent, began to wander back towards town. Wag was more than content to listen to Tom ramble on. He would get interrupted by Tucker when he said something ‘incredibly stupid’ and, more rarely, by Jordan, who would correct some technical thing that Tom clearly did not give a shit about.

Sonja drifted next to him, giving Wag a conspiratorial smile. “You’re looking mighty fine in just a robe and boxers. Is this the bedroom Wag special? Or is that sans boxers?” 

“The bedroom Wag special is whatever you want it to be.” He winked. “It’s magic all around.”

They exchanged a laugh, falling silent again.

Wag knew that wasn’t what Sonja really wanted to talk about.

She looked back at him, a warm look in her eyes. “It’s nice. To see you out. Been a while, y’know?” Sonja stretched her arms out in front of her. “It really has been a bit since we’ve talked. And since you’ve left the house. But honestly?” Her tail swishes behind her. “I could have made a few more treks up that damn mountain myself.”

Shaking his head, Wag elbowed her side lightly. “It is a fairly tall hill, but I think mountain is a bit of an overstatement.” It was, in fact, a bitch of a climb, but Wag didn’t think it was that bad. He’d put the tower just on the other side of the Glowstone Forest, across from the Priest’s house. (What was it called again? Forest of the Void? Abyss Forest? Obsidian Trees? Yeah, he didn’t know or care). 

Left unsaid was a ‘That’s okay, you don’t have to go out of your way’.

He received an eye roll. “Please, the only trek worse than that is up to where Tucker’s first house was. I was so happy when we moved it down the mountain. Well, into.”

It’s no trouble, her words left hanging, I don’t mind.

Wag huffed. How dare she be considerate. “You know what’s worse than a trek up a mountain? A trek up a mountain to get some rare flower, only to be spited by the universe and have not a single flower growing up there. Honestly, I could use some help from someone so used to climbing mountains.” A smirk pulled at his face. “Or maybe just send someone up there for me.”

We could always hang out when I’m playing master botanist. If you’d like.

Sonja smiled at him, but couldn’t resist getting a dig in. “Aw, did you skip leg day? Have some chicken legs over there? That’s alright, I’m sure someone,” she tilts her head, eyes sweeping past the buildings around them, “would be willing. Get a nice little lackey so you can rest your old bones at home and complain about how the cold makes your joints stiff.” 

“How dare you,” Wag sniffed, hand held up to his heart. “I’ll have you know, my joints are just fine in the cold! Some of us just aren’t made of the cold, little miss fox.”

Sonja, ever so mature, stuck her tongue out at him.

They kept up some conversation, occasionally stopping to listen in to whatever Tom was saying. Wag, for a moment, realized that he had missed this. Missed them. That even though he wanted to avoid all the new things in this world, he’d always have his friends.

A quiet, hopeless voice asked if they’d leave him too.

~~~

There was nothing quite like hiking up a hill, in only your boxers, a little buzzed, during the night time. The pure amount of skeletons that had sniffed around looking for a cheap shot alone was bad enough, but the fact that his legs already hurt from struggling to fish with just his mouth without drowning? Yeah, it felt more like he was climbing up a mountain that was near vertical.

Fuck gravity.

A pit of warmth had settled in his chest a couple hours ago. Whether it was the alcohol that Tucker, of all people, had got the group into drinking or just the effect of being with friends for a while, Wag felt content. Not a common feeling in recent times. It was nice.

Really nice.

Upon reaching his door, his mind scrambled to figure out why it was left slightly open. He shrugged. As long as nothing was missing or stolen, he didn’t really care.

He made his way inside- making sure to actually close the door behind him- and wandered over to the stairs. Ah, his mortal enemy. Between being a wizard way back when and the magic rampant in Ruxomar, he had gotten way too used to avoiding stairs. Now it was a chore to move up and down the tower. But his bed was upstairs and he was not sleeping on the crappy couch he shoved into the lobby for guests or customers again.

So stairs it was.

By the time he got halfway up the stairs, he wanted to quit. Why, in Athar’s name, did he put his room on the third highest level? Stupidity, that’s why. The view was so not worth it.

When he actually made it up to the correct floor, he pushed the door to his room open, chucked his clothes to one side, and collapsed in bed. Now this, this was worth it. Soft, plush, warm, and very much without skeletons.

The less arrows being shot at him the better.

A soft chuckle caught his attention. Or rather, killed the peace he had wrapped around himself mere hours earlier.

He didn’t move. Not because he was scared. No, he knew who was in his room. He just wanted to pretend, for a moment, like this was something he was used to.

Like coming home to his lover being home wouldn’t surprise him.

The bed dipped beside him and his robed and boxer-ed glory. A hand ran through his hair. Wag tried not to tense.

“Seems like you had a good night out.” Her voice was like silk, soft and pleasant on his ears. “Hopefully they didn’t hassle you too much.”

Wag breathed. His chest was tight, emotion punching at his ribs. “Yeah,” he said, “It was nice to have some time with them again.”

All of this felt so forgein, now. To have her here. Was she here? Or did he drink more than he had originally thought. Shit.

Martha scratched his head. “I do have to say, I’m surprised that you actually left the tower. You’ve been holed up here for so long I thought I’d have to drag you out.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Or maybe he was imagining it. His head was a mess and he wasn’t quite sure what he was making up and what was real.

It was kind of pathetic.

He laughed. “Yeah, Tom showed up and dragged me out. Not complaining though, I had a lot of fun. It was nice to take off from work. Making potions gets boring.”

So did sitting in your own depressing thoughts, but that was more exhausting than boring.

“Oh,” Wag turned his head to face Martha, looking up at her. The darkness made her hair stand out. It looked like a halo around her face, bringing out her lovely lilac eyes. She was just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. But there was something heavy in her eyes that she tried to wipe away when his own reached her. “Jordan was looking for you earlier. Did he ever find you?”

Martha blinked and the heaviness was gone. Ish. He knew it was there. Somewhere.

“Ah, no.” She frowned. “I’ll have to see what he needs tomorrow.”

He nodded. To be honest, Wag wasn’t convinced Martha was actually sitting here with him. Which was kind of sad. Very sad.

“I can come with, if you’d like,” Wag rushed out, trying not to sound desperate. “We haven’t had much time together, which is understandable with your dad being around and all the stuff you need to do. And, y’know, it’d be nice to walk with you for a bit.”

Oh, he sounded so desperate.

Yikes.

A smile graced Martha’s lips. “Sure, I’d love that.” Wag let out a breath. “We’ll take a stroll, get a nice scenic view of the beach as we go, call it a date-” She cut off. The heaviness came back to her eyes. Wag knew what she was thinking. Who she was thinking about.

It hurt.

“I’m going to go take a shower before getting ready for bed. You can go ahead and sleep, if you’d like. I know you’ve had a long day and you’re probably tired. Don’t force yourself for me.” Martha stood as she said this, fingers trailing in his hair. Then she left.

Reluctantly, Wag got up to do just that. Changed his boxers and hung up his cloak. Buried himself back into bed, under the covers.

Yeah. It’d be a date.

~~~

Martha didn’t like to get up early. Neither did Wag. Normally, this lead to them sleepily cuddling until one felt so inspired as to get up. Normally.

Ever since the group returned to the land of Mianite, Martha didn’t sleep as well. Between nightmares, being a fledgling goddess, and the… absence of certain people, she found herself waking earlier and earlier.

Wag had his fair share of sleep troubles. Where sleep troubles stopped Martha from sleeping as much, it led to Wag sleeping more. The less he slept the more exhausted he was. The more exhausted he was the more he slept. It was a vicious cycle and actually the reason Wag didn’t leave the house as much.

Nonetheless, both found themselves getting ready to leave just after dawn. Martha moved like last night didn’t end awkward and uncomfortable. Bright, cheerful, and painfully affectionate with Wag. Like she hadn’t been avoiding him for the better part of their stay here.

The worst part was that this wasn’t the first time she came back like nothing was wrong. It was almost like she could tell when he was starting to doubt their relationship. Except, he was constantly doubting their relationship. Even when things had been going well. But this time, it was like she knew when he was thinking about how much of a relationship they didn’t have.

Which was concerning if she actually knew what he thought.

Wag, on the other hand, moved like a zombie. Tired, groggy, and barely awake. The picture of early morning beauty. It wasn’t far off from how he used to act, but now it was like someone had chained weights to his feet.

Damn, he was tired as shit.

Martha had set about making some breakfast from the little food he had. Some eggs, some- thankfully not spoiled- fruit, and milk. Wag was pretty sure he didn’t have milk, but he wasn’t going to question it. She was the more magical of the two, now, so it was within reason that she could get milk in the few minutes he’d lagged behind her in getting out of bed.

He, on the other hand, was on the task of making coffee. Coffee was something of a luxury here, since it was so new to the land. It wasn’t grown naturally on the island and Wag wasn’t sure if it was imported from some far off place or if it had been introduced by the earlier dimension hoppers that still hung around. Spark, for sure, seemed to run on the stuff.

That didn’t really matter to Wag, though. He had a plant of it in his garden, for ease of access, but more importantly to see if it could be used to help crossbreed weed into existence. No far off land had procured the plant yet, so he would still strive to be the maker of weed.

Not the best plan in the world, but that wouldn’t matter once he actually made the plant.

He really shouldn’t be encouraging substance abuse.

Surely, coffee would wake him up. Then he could go on a walk with Martha and do that thing they seemed to do where they avoided those topics and pretended like everything was fine. And maybe, just maybe, they’d enjoy the conversation. Maybe they’d feel something again, feel whole for the brief moment where they let themselves forget about the person who was missing, the person that clearly held more place in Martha’s heart for it to have torn so much when he-

Maybe Wag would get his shit together and let things die between them.

Maybe he’d decide that fighting an uphill battle wasn’t worth it.

For now, though, he was content to pretend things were the same. It was better than being entirely, wholly alone. And, deep in his heart, he still loved her. So, so much.

Enough that he knew it would hurt no matter what he did.

They chatted over the food Martha cooked. She complemented his coffee, the beans from the plant he owned, and he told her that the cooking is just as good as it’d always been.

Neither mentioned that it was usually Steve, not either of them, that did the cooking.

They tossed little affections at each other with ease. Like it was second nature. A brush of hands, a quick smile, a peck on the cheek. It was like a dance. As though they were trying to make a show of how much they still cared, how much nothing had changed despite the fact that everything had changed.

Hands loosely held together, they left the house as a unit, holding up a conversation with ease. If either of them tripped up in their speech as they avoided that topic or this word, neither called each other out for it. For all that everything was off and wrong, they made it work. They found a way to shove a cube into a round hole.

Whether it was because they wanted it to work so bad or because the hole was a giant chasm with space for miles was up to debate.

The beach was calm in the early morning. Fishers were stocking up their ships to start up on their daily trip, tightening a rope here, making space there. Few people walked about the town, the kids either asleep or getting hassled to eat breakfast. With so few people out, it felt like they were on the outskirts of life, just the two of them. Like viewing the world through a painting.

That illusion was helped by the sheer height of Jordan’s tree. It was still there, despite the damage it had received when Tom got to it. If he looked closely, Wag could see the remains of burn marks and grooves held in the thick bark. He had heard that, after the heroes had left, Ianite had nursed the tree back to life in honor of her lost champion.

He ignored the fact that Ianite had sent them into the void in the first place.

Wag himself had left before that, called on to help the heroes that he had watched over as a distant wizard. Even now, he wondered if it had been worth it. To lose everything because he was asked to. In his weakest moments, he wondered if it hadn’t been the gods’ way of throwing him out.

That thought hurt the most out of everything in his life and he never let it linger.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the base of the hill that Jordan’s tree- sorry, Jerry’s Tree- sat beside. They weren’t that close to getting inside yet, but it was a milestone.

As they climbed the hill, massive roots stretching out below them, Wag started up some conversation about the different species of trees. He never once mentioned apple trees. It was part of his botany, after all, and important to keep track of. The types of trees, not apple trees. Apple trees were just one of those topics and therefore something they made an unspoken agreement not to talk about.

He pondered, during his ramble, that Martha could have just flown up the tree. She could do that, after all. Wag couldn’t. Not anymore. The worst part was that he’d help build this tree, or, well, make it. Way back then. That was a sore spot to think about, but even still he was in awe of the tree. Not because of the fact that he's contributed to it- no, he had felt a sense of pride for that a long time ago. Rather, because of how it’d regrown.

Ianite’s gentle hand had turned it from merely a large, enchanting tree to a behemoth of divine wonder. Its branches had spread further, with more room between them and the tips reaching towards the heavens. The leaves had shaped up and gotten fuller, surely the size of a full-grown adult by now. Fireflies could be seen lazily hovering about clusters of leaves, giving the tree a pleasant, natural lighting.

Many more platforms and walkways had been built, new buildings having been added on top of that. They stretched from one end to the other. The most daring teased the edge of a branch, hung firmly along the length of it. The walkways were either long rope bridges made of braided vines that shimmered a faint purple or ramps made and reinforced by the same wood the tree was made of, the bottom featuring fancy swirls alongside the support beams.

Other vines, flora, and bushes lined the branches and platforms. Though they looked like they were leeching off the tree at first, a closer inspection- granted you were on the tree to get an inspection- showed they were delicately wrapped around the branches and sneakily planted in hidden pots for a more natural look. The flowers ranged from all sorts of purples- fitting. Buddleias enclosed doorways, Hyacinthus were wound along lanterns strung along pathways, and an abundance of Jacaranda could be found wherever space was made for flora.

The more he looked the more nature there was to see, the more connecting walkways there were strung along, the more everything there was. It felt like the whole world was home under the canopy.

The tree had gone from the house of a solitary man to a city of nature.

It didn’t feel like the same tree.

Wag pushed aside the nagging thought that it was better than anything he could have ever made. Ianite was a full fledged goddess, Wag was- had been- a mere wizard with the idea of godhood in his head. What he made had been incredible for mortal standards, and was still incredible for the standards he had held himself to. It would do no good to compare himself to Ianite, especially when all she had done was repair what was already there.

As they made their way up to the crest of the hill, following the path from the town to the tree as it curled around Jordan’s old home, Wag spared a glance at the birch and quartz house. It was simple, sleek and minimal. It suited Jordan. Of course, Jordan himself had made it, so why wouldn’t it?

Compared to Jerry’s Tree, though, it seemed rather dull and insignificant.

Actually.

Wag spared a closer look at the smaller home. It looked lived in. A frown pulled at his lips. Was someone living there? Who else, other than Jordan, would?

Martha had picked up the conversation now, adding in details about trees that she had seen in her travels long ago, ones he’d never have had the chance to see. There were many interesting species, some magical in the same sense as Silverwoods, some as plain as a simple oak tree, but all more than enough to satiate Wag’s desire to know more. His mind kept getting pulled back to the Casa de Sparklez, though.

A thought struck him, one he’d had just moments before.

Jerry’s Tree looked and felt so different, now that Ianite had tended to it. Like it was a different tree. Did Jordan think the same? Did it feel less like home, after being away for so long and having watched it burn?

Was Jordan living in his older house because the tree felt so forgein?

Martha was going on about a beautiful tree known for the lights its seeds shone, especially during the night hours. It really sounded like a sight to behold. More than that, the gentle, awed look on Martha’s face pulled at Wag’s heart.

Take care of her.

There was a sour taste in his mouth. Wag decided not to mention what he had just noticed. That was Jordan’s business, not his.

Martha was looking at him now, a small, shy smile on her lips. Wag felt like if he said the wrong thing it’d disappear in an instant. Like Martha was used to having her interests pushed aside, or used to pushing them aside herself when people didn’t seem to care about what she was saying.

Take care of her.

He offered a smile back, a genuine one. He really did love her. More than anything, he wanted to keep loving her. But something told him it wouldn’t work. That what they had had started to decay sometime around the end of Ruxomar, around when he left.

No, around when Martha almost became Mrs. a instead of a Ms.

Bitterness clutched at Wag’s heart. For all the love he held for her, he wondered, again and again, if she held the same. If she ever held the same, if she even held something close to the same.

Take care of her.

Looking up at Jerry’s Tree, Wag remembered what it used to be. He remembered watching it burn, the pain he had felt in seeing his hard work get tarnished, in seeing a friend’s home wither away.

Now, though, it was different. Not quite a home, anymore, but reborn. Alive. And maybe, in the future, it’d be a home again, or maybe not. Maybe it needed to burn for it to become what it was now. Jordan would have never built it up to this, but Ianite had.

Maybe that was the secret, Wag pondered. Maybe you had to let things burn to be able to build them up stronger.

He looked at Martha again, at the softness in her face and the hardness in her eyes. His heart pulled in so many directions. Love, anguish, love, despair, love, hurt, love love love.

Yeah, he was going to have to let this relationship burn.

[themadlostgirl]

A Little Lady

*Got a bit carried away with the backstory in the beginning but what are you gonna do?*

Prompt: Y/N is Peter’s best friend and she has to calm him down when the boys complain he’s too strict. Turns out he’s been paranoid about protecting her

Requested by: anon

Warnings: none

---

When I was a little kid I had heard tales of Neverland and wished to go there more than anything. It was a place of wonder and freedom that every child in the orphanage dreamed of. I heard that the way to go there was to wish on the second star to the right at the peak of the night. I waited until the orphanage had gone still and snores filled the air before I climbed out of bed and went to the window.

I found the star in the sky and clasped my hands together. “I wish to go to Neverland. Please. Please.”

I waited and waited searching the stars for...something. I wasn’t sure what.

Then out of the darkness something flew closer and closer till it was at my window. It was a boy.

“Are you the one that called me?” He raised an eyebrow at me, “Not the usual riff raff I’m used.”

“What are you?” I asked the boy.

“What kind of question is that? Asking what I am before even asking my name.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What is your name? My name is Y/N.”

“Peter Pan at your service, little lady,” He bowed and took my small hand in his. He gave it a small kiss that made me giggle and my cheeks warm. “I heard that you want to go to Neverland.”

“Yes! Yes I do! Can you take me there?”

“Yes I can. But I won’t.”

“Why not?” I stomped my foot.

“You’re a bit too young for the likes of Neverland. The island would chew you up and spit you out.”

“I thought Neverland was a place of wonder where you never have to grow up and there are no stinky adults to tell you what to do.”

“It is but it’s not exactly safe for...how old are you? Five?”

“I’m six and a half!”

“Excuse me, but you must be at least twelve years old before you can become a Lost One on Neverland. Call on me in five and a half years and we’ll see about bringing you to Neverland.”

“Five and a half years is such a long time to wait though.”

“It’ll go by in the blink of an eye. If you should find yourself in a tough spot or just feeling lonely then call on the second star to the right. I’ll come by.” he laid a hand over his heart, “My word is my bond.”

“Fine…” I grumbled, “Before you go though could I...could I have another kiss?”

He grinned and reached into his pocket and withdrew an acorn. “There you are.”

“That’s an acorn!”

“No, it’s a kiss.” he dropped it into my hands, “One you can hold onto until next we meet again.”

“Well, can I give you a kiss?”

“Why not,” he shrugged and brought his face closer so I could leave a tiny peck on his cheek. “Now you go back to bed. Sweet dreams, little one.”

“Sweet dreams, Peter Pan.”

That was my first meeting with Peter Pan. The years would go by and I would call to Peter Pan when I was sad or feeling alone. At the end of our time I would ask Peter if I could give him a kiss and each time I gave him a peck on the cheek. I put the acorn--the kiss--he had given me on a chain and wore it around my neck always. He became my friend. My very best friend.

When I turned twelve I asked Peter if I could go to Neverland with him.

“Sorry, little lady,” He shook his head, “You aren’t quite ready for Neverland.”

“But I’m twelve years old. You told me that I had to be at least twelve years old to go to Neverland and now I am. Why can’t I go?”

“You may be old enough but you are not yet strong enough, I'm afraid. Try again next year, little lady.” he said.

I crossed my arms and turned away from him. “Stop pouting,” he rapped his knuckles on top of my head, “It’s not forever. I promise. My word is my bond.”

“Junk bond.” I muttered, “You do promise I will go to Neverland one day, right?”

“I promise, can I get my kiss?” he smirked.

“Of course,” I smirked right back. He waited with his cheek towards me. I looked around and found a thimble laying on the windowsill. I placed it in his palm. “A kiss.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but this is a thimble, little lady,”

“No, it’s a kiss.” I repeated the words he spoke to me five and a half years ago, “One you can hold onto until next we meet again.”

“I’m afraid I’m becoming an influence on you.” he tucked the thimble in his pocket. “Thank you for such a shiny kiss. Now off to bed. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.” I climbed back into bed. Every year when I grew older I would ask Peter to take me to Neverland and every year he found a reason so tell me no. It wasn’t till I was nearing my seventeenth year that he finally took me away to Neverland with him.

Flying over the island and seeing it for the first time was more amazing than I ever dreamed. We landed in a camp located in the midst of the grand jungle. There Peter introduced me to the Lost Boys. I slotted in perfectly amongst them. It was like Neverland had been waiting for me.

I don’t know why Peter took so long to bring me here. I had been there for over three weeks and it wasn’t at all filled with the reckless abandon I was expecting. Peter made it sound like you had to be some kind of warrior to live on Neverland. But to my surprise it was well ordered and not in the least bit dangerous and crazy.

I was in camp chatting with some of the boys when an argument started to break out nearby. Everyone in the camp stopped what they were doing to see what was going on. There was Peter and he was being accosted by a group of the Lost Boys.

“We can’t take it anymore! If I wanted a place full of rules and a stick in the mud up my ass about every little thing then I would have stayed right where I was before I came here.” The boy shouted in Peter’s face.

The fury Peter was holding back from unleashing outright was wafting off him like a fog. “Oh dear,” I rushed over to them and stepped between Peter and the boys. “Hi, Peter, look at me.”

That chilling green gaze landed on me and softened slightly. “Y/N…give me a moment. I have an issue to deal with.”

“I’m sure you do. How about before you come sit with me for a spell.”

“Not right now--”

“Peter,” I grabbed his arm, “Sit down.”

“I don’t--”

“You’re agitated and not making any sensible decisions. Sit. Down.” I told him more sternly.

I sat down on a log and he reclined in the space between my legs. I ran my hands through his hair and he began to relax.

“Better?” I whispered and he hummed contently in response.

I shot a look at the moronic Lost Boys and they scattered. You would think they’d get some sense about them. Peter’s temper isn’t exactly a secret.

“You need to try and have more patience with them. I’m not always going to be here to cool you down.”

“How can anyone have patience with such imbeciles?” he grumbled.

“If I can you can. Are you calmed down?” He nodded. “Now are you going to tell me why you’re being so strict with the boys? I know this isn’t how Neverland should be.”

“I’m not--”

“Peter, it is obvious that you have been really on edge these past couple of weeks. It is aggravating the boys and to be honest it’s annoying me too.”

“I don’t wanna tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how you’ll react.”

“What is it?” I tugged on his hair when he didn’t say anything. “Peter Elizabeth Pan!”

“My middle name isn’t Elizabeth.”

“It is when you’re keeping secrets.”

He lapsed back into silence.

“Peter Constantine Antionette Eucardo Ulysses--”

“Fine! Just stop giving me fifty different middle names.” He sat up and turned towards me, “The reason I’ve been so hard on everyone is to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what? Is someone out to get me?”

“No, but Neverland is really dangerous and I don’t want my best friend getting hurt. I couldn’t be able to live with myself if something bad happened to you when I could have prevented it.”

“Oh Peter…” I groaned, “Really? You’ve been down everyone’s throat because you don’t think I can fend for myself?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t fend for yourself. I know you’re not an idiot or not resourceful but you are still getting used to this place and I just don’t want you getting into a bad situation.” he reached for my hand but I pulled back.

“Peter, is that why you kept me from Neverland for so long? Because you wanted to keep me safe?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Yes.” he stared down at the ground.

I couldn’t stay angry at him. He thought he was doing the right thing because he cares. I can’t keep a grudge against him for that.

“You silly boy,” I tweaked his nose, “Keeping me in a bubble because you’re scared for me isn’t doing anyone any favors. You’re not always going to be able to keep me out of trouble or from getting hurt. It’s all a part of life.”

“What do I do when you get hurt though? Stand around and feel guilty?”

“That’s the great thing about being a friend, Peter, you can help me feel better. It’s like when I was a little kid and I would call you whenever I was lonely or sad. You would come by and cheer me up.”

“It feels like those days were forever ago. You were just a wee thing. Tiny and giggling over a simple kiss on the back of your hand.” he played with the acorn around my neck.

“Yes. I also made the mistake of thinking you charming. Things change.” I rolled my eyes.

“I am plenty charming, little lady.”

“You’re a right bother is what you are, Peter Pan.” I smiled at him, “A bother that I love.”

“Awe, you love me?”

“Don’t go getting a big head. You’re my best friend, of course I love you. It’s just a shame you’re such a codfish.”

“Hey!”

[hyucksoftie]

alone | jisung

genre: fluff & angst

words: 2.7k+

requested: yes

desc: you've been alone your whole life, but that changes when han jisung starts talking to you. maybe having company isn't so bad?

a/n: i hope everyone had a good christmas! here's a late xmas gift 💗

—

It was a Friday when Han Jisung first started to talk to you. The period you had was lunch.

Per usual, you sit alone during lunch. Music plays into your ears, earbuds in and volume loud to distract yourself from everyone else. That's when a green tray came into your line of sight, slamming against the table. You look up and stare into Jisung's warm brown eyes, a smile on his face. "Hey, you don't mind if I sit here, right?"

Quite frankly, you did mind. You were alone for most of your life, it wasn't long before you started liking it that way. But Jisung took your silence as approval and sat down across from you. "You're Y/N, right?"

You only offer him a nod, biting into your turkey sandwich. "I'm Jisung." You nod again and continue to ignore him.

"Where are your friends? Late?" You almost let out a laugh. How did Han Jisung know your name, but not the fact that you had no friends at all?

Wiping your mouth, you softly chuckle. Unbeknownst to you, the sound made Jisung's heart flip. "I have no friends." He frowns. "Oh...so you just sit alone?" His eyes were filled with pity, maybe a little bit of guilt. You saw it, but chose to ignore it. "Yup."

"Well, routines die, Y/N. Consider me your new friend." With that, Jisung smiles at you and begins stuffing his face with fries. You should be happy, happy someone wanted to be around you and consider themselves your friend; but you weren't. You were annoyed.

You liked being alone. Why talk with anyone when they'll eventually turn their back on you? You've learned your lesson.

But you chose not to say anything. Jisung's friends didn't seem to be around, and he probably didn't like being alone like you did so you let him stay. You promised yourself that that will be the last time you let anyone sit with you.

What was with Jisung and trying to grow close to you? Did he want something? You thought yesterday would be the last you'd hear of him.

2 AM on a Saturday night, you just so happened to run into him at a 24/7 pharmacy. You were wearing your baggy pajamas, hair up in a ponytail to look at least a little presentable. All you needed was a few ramen packets to fill your stomach up for the next week. Then you saw him.

Han Jisung in the hair dye aisle, scanning through ever shade. You needed to pass that aisle to get to the food, but you were debating if you even needed food. Too late.

"Oh, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here. Why aren't you at home sleeping?" You fidget. Great. Now you had to talk with him. "I could ask you the same."

Jisung laughs, and you almost laugh too. You prevent yourself from doing so, though. "Uhh...I couldn't sleep, and Minho couldn't either so we came here. What about you?"

"Minho's...here?" You weren't gonna lie, you may or may not have had a small crush on said boy. He was the only person you talked to occasionally, the only person that you wouldn't be annoyed at if he sat with you. But he doesn't. Which is where your tiny crush dies. Jisung notices your spaced out look and smiles sadly.

You didn't like him. "Um, yeah." You hadn't answered his question, but Jisung didn't bother to ask again. "I can trust you right?" Jisung asks.

Blinking, you nod. Could he say bye so you could go? You'd much rather be at home than in this situation. "Which color should I choose?"

"Blue."

"That was fast. What about-" Jisung turned but you weren't there. Yet, he could still smell your vanilla scent.

Vanilla was your favorite, he noticed. At school, you always chose vanilla pudding instead of chocolate. Back in first grade, you brought an empty carton of vanilla ice cream to show & tell. Jisung looked at the cash register and saw your back. Along with the packets of ramen, on the counter was a vanilla scented air freshener.

"You know what color you're dying your hair yet?" Minho reappeared, his basket full of junk food. Jisung turns and nods with a smile. "Blue."

You found yourself at the same place on Sunday. Same store, same time. Hell, even the same scenario. You didn't need food, you got into an argument with your mom and needed to get out. And for some odd reason, the pharmacy brought you comfort.

"Y/N?" You turn around and face Jisung. You gasp and cover your mouth, letting out a quick "sorry." Jisung's hair was no longer blonde, but a very off white. "I know, it's wack."

Jisung laughs softly and you can't help but laugh too. This time you gave into the want. If Jisung was being honest, he dyed his hair white because it reminded him of vanilla; it reminded him of you. Maybe then you'd like him. It was stupid, that he knew right after he got out of the shower and saw it.

"I should've gotten blue like you said." Oh yeah, you suggested blue. You wonder what made him change his mind. You would know if you asked him, but the antisocial part of you didn't want to drag on the conversation.

"What brings you here again?"

"I got into an argument with my mom...I really needed to get out of the house and this was the only place I could think of." Jisung smiles at you. "I'm sorry about that."

You smile back. "It's- It's fine." Jisung bows his head before walking past you and to the hair dye aisle once again. For some reason you found yourself following him, almost like a lost puppy.

Jisung notices but doesn't say anything, his eyes searching for the blue in the vast array of colored boxes. You find it and grab it, handing it to him. "Oh- thanks."

He goes to the counter and the cashier scans the box, but Jisung didn't pay immediately after. "Do you want anything?" You bite your lip and scan the snacks below the desk. You opt for vanilla filled chocolate bites, placing them on the counter. Jisung pays, grabbing the plastic bag and walking out. Again, you follow him without really questioning why.

"Do you need a ride back home?" No, I don't. You nod, smiling shyly up at the boy.

Jisung turned on the radio, heating up the car for you. "Which way is your-"

"Jisung? I don't want to go home."

He tightens his lips and looks down at you, your eyes pleading. He couldn't help but frown at the sight. "Ok...my place instead?" A small nod is all he needs before he starts driving the way home.

"Jisung who the hell did you bring home, I thought you were just gonna get hair dye-" Minho emerges from his room and turns on the lights. You blush under his stare, inching closer to Jisung for some sort of relief. "Oh. Hi, Y/N."

You wave, offering a small smile.

"I'm gonna dye my hair now, I want to get rid of this as soon as possible." Jisung runs a hand through his hair, a pout on his lips. "I'm not helping you again." Minho says, already walking back to his room. Jisung turns to you, you already knew what he was asking of you. "I'll help."

"I hate you, this is never coming off." You wipe at your shirt, trying to get the blue dye off, but to no avail. "Not my fault you're HORRIBLE at this."

You send him a glare, lips pouty. Jisung's heart was all over the place, the only thought in his mind being 'cute.'

Groaning, you give up and leave your shirt alone. "Are you gonna wash your hair?" Jisung jumps at your words, almost as if realizing that was a thing you had to do. Laughing, you watch as he leans over the sink, splashing water onto his head.

"Jisung, you're getting me wet!"

"Oh, am I really?" You nod. "Yeah you are-" Your shirt becomes more damp, the water coming from Jisung's direction. You frown, throwing water back at him. "Meanie."

He ignores you and continues to splash water onto you. Huffing, you wipe your face. "You're getting your ass beat."

On Monday you found yourself skipping school with Jisung. His hair was now a dark blue, it looked really good on him. Much better than what he previously had.

After your water fight, the both of you ended up soaking. You didn't go to bed until 5 AM, bundled up in Jisung's clothes. You actually had fun with him, you didn't mind the idea of him sitting with you as much anymore.

That's probably why you felt so comfortable with him now, sitting in front of you at a coffee shop nearby.

"Y/N, can I ask you a question? I'm genuinely curious about something." You chew on your muffin and nod at Jisung. He smiles and fiddles with his fingers. "Why do you sit alone during lunch break? Do your friends have different lunches?"

You're quiet, avoiding Jisung's eyes. He didn't know you like you thought he did. He genuinely wanted to know you? He didn't talk to you out of pity? Sighing, you offer him the best fake smile you could put on. He wouldn't know it was fake anyways. "I don't- I don't have any friends..." Jisung blinks and his mouth opens in surprise.

"Oh...really?" You nod. "Doesn't it get lonely?" Could he let the topic go? You were starting to grow irritated. "I like being alone."

Jisung frowns. He didn't get it. How come someone like you doesn't have any friends? He's only properly hung out with you once, but he enjoyed it. You were fun. Do you not want friends? Whatever it was, he didn't ask any further.

By Thursday, you find yourself with Jisung always. You two laugh, eat, do anything together. His presence didn't bother you but instead it made you feel all warm inside. He kind of made you feel weird.

He didn't make you uncomfortable, it was a feeling inside of you whenever he was around that was weird. When you started feeling like this? No idea. But you'd ponder about it a lot.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

Looking up, you make eye contact with Jisung, eyes worried. There is that weird feeling again. There was a thought at the back of your head, but you push it away.

Gulping, you nod. "Yeah, yup, I'm fine." He smiles and it does something to you. Jisung continues talking but your mind wanders somewhere else. You stare at his pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering open and closed. His round chipmunk like cheeks, his blue hair, his lips-

Oh no. This wasn't happening.

"Jisung I got- go. Me. I have to go."

"What? Y/N what's going-" You pick up your bag and scurry out of the lunch room, not even saying goodbye. Your stomach hurt and your head hurt.

It was obvious what was going on, yet you didn't want to admit it. That weird feeling.

Jisung sat alone and confused. Did he do something? Say something? He was worrying about you. He always was. Even before you grew close, he worried about you. When he saw you talking with Minho, he'd always ask him how you were. What you told him. He was nosy when it came to you.

It was like last week's Friday repeated itself this week. Jisung tried talking to you but you didn't want him to. You wanted to be left alone, by yourself.

"Y/N, whats wrong? Did something happen? Please tell me." Nothing. Jisung smiles that gentle caring smile and reaches over to put his hand over yours. "You can talk to me." Your eyes stay on his hand, then they move to his face. Your heart went crazy.

What was he doing to you?

"Jisung cant you see I want to be alone? I'm meant to be alone. What are you gaining talking to me? Go away! Leave me alone! I don't want you here." His eyes widen.

Then they slit into a glare, confusion in those brown orbs. "What has gotten into you? I started talking to you because I wanted to, not because I thought I'd gain something. Y/N, you aren't meant to spend your life by yourself. I'm your fr-"

"Do you ever shut up? You're so annoying. I told you to go away, now do it. I never wanted you here." Seeing the hurt in Jisung's eyes stung your heart. His lips held a frown. But you stood your ground.

Getting rid of Jisung would get rid of your feelings.

Right?

He gets up from the seat across of you and without a word or a look back, he leaves. And with him he takes a little bit of your heart.

Saturday, you're alone but it doesn't feel the same. You don't like it. You hate every second of it. Being by yourself doesn't feel nice anymore, it feels...lonely. And you know exactly why.

Sunday. The day goes by painfully slow. You learned to accept it. Accept the fact that you liked Jisung, and you missed him. You missed hearing him talk about how dumb Minho is, you missed his laugh, his loud clapping, his warmth. Everything about Jisung, you missed. Everything about him that you fell for, you missed.

Just like last week, you were at the pharmacy. At 3 AM. Sleep was hard to get, your thoughts were on Jisung only. Jisung was gone but your feelings towards him weren't. Instead of disappearing, they grew stronger.

Walking past the hair dye section, you find yourself stuck there. Your eyes were on one color: blue. Why did everything remind you of him?

You continue walking in your oversized pj's, heading towards the ice cream. Vanilla would help with your sadness. Vanilla helps with everything. You open the fridge and take out the tub of vanilla ice cream. "Maybe I'll get two..." You grab another and head towards the checkout.

The cashier scans your stuff, when suddenly an air freshener is thrown on the counter. The scent? Vanilla. You look up and see a face you've been longing to see. But Jisung doesn't look at you. Not even when he speaks.

"You need to replace your old one."

Your eyes stay on Jisung, tracing all the features of his face with your pupils. That is, until the cashier calls out to you. "Anything else?"

Shaking your head, you quickly take out your wallet to pay, but it falls. "Oh-"

Jisung picks it up and hands it to you.

After paying, you didn't leave the store. You stood to the side and waited for Jisung to finish paying for his things. Once he was done you rush to him and grab his arm. "Listen I am so-"

"Mean? Cold? Yeah, I know." You frown. He was right. "I...I know what I said was mean-"

"Yup."

"-but I wasn't thinking. I was confused. I wasn't in a good place when I said those things. I didn't mean anything I said. Nothing at all. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Your eyes started to water. "These past 2 days, I realized how much I do want you in my life. Being alone sucks. I like being with you. I miss you."

Jisung frowns and holds your face. "Y/N don't cry." He brings your head to his chest, fingers running through your hair.

"I-I like you, Han Jisung. So much."

You look up and cup his cheeks, pouting up at him. "I like you a lot, you fool. Curse you for being cute." Jisung laughs and smiles down at you. "I like you too, you big crybaby."

With that, he leans forward with your face still in his hands. His lips leave the softest kiss on your own, pillowy against yours. It lasts like five seconds, but it felt like forever. You liked it. A lot. Jisung licks his lips and smiles at you.

"Nice vanilla chapstick."

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

You’re My Bodyguard, Not My Owner. (Chapter 13) (Brendon Urie x Reader)

You swung your legs back and forth as they dangled from the uncomfortable bed in your room at SHIELD HQ, while you stared at your bodyguard. He was sitting on a chair across the room, reading a James Patterson novel; you’d finished your novel ages ago and it had now joined the ever-growing pile of books at the foot of the bed. Being holed up in the tiny, sparsely furnished room was enormously arduous and you must’ve finished at least fifty books in the short time you’d been occupying the space.

The trip to Stuttgart – albeit life-threatening – had been a welcome oasis, and with every dreadful second that ticked by on the unnecessarily large clock mounted on the opposite wall, you found yourself wishing that you had an excuse, any excuse, to leave the holding.

You tore your eyes away from Brendon and they flickered to the journal lying next to you on the bed. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you opened the book, doing a quick once over of the pages you’d read too many times to count.

“Brendon?”

“No.”

You breathed out in exasperation. “You didn’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Yes, I did,” he responded, not even bothering to look up from his book. “You were going to ask me to tell you what The Director wouldn’t.”

“I was not.”

“Yes, you were. In fact, you’ve spent the past,” he glanced at his wrist watch, “thirteen minutes, thirty-seven seconds trying to figure out how to go about it. And how to try and convince me to spill everything when I inevitably said no.”

You clenched your teeth as your heart rate began to increase. For someone who claimed he couldn’t read your mind, he sure as hell seemed to always know what you were thinking. “You can’t lie to me, (Y/N),” he reminded, “You’re easy to read.”

“So you admit that there’s things everyone’s not telling me?” you quizzed as you folded your arms, feeling vaguely triumphant that you’d cornered him.

“No. I was only acknowledging your thought that there’s something everyone’s not telling you.”

“Look,” you sighed, hopping down from the bed and walking over to Brendon, who finally put his book down – with an eye roll – when you appeared in front of him. “I know you don’t really do the whole ‘human emotions’ thing,” you started and he raised an eyebrow, “but I’ve been lied to for most of my life and honestly, I’m getting real sick of it. If there’s something big that I’m being kept in the dark about, then please, if you have even the tiniest shred of humanity, tell me what it is,” you begged, voice shaky.

Brendon looked at you intently as his mind raced. You looked so desperate, so tired… he could tell that the thoughts running rampant in your head were tearing you apart, and he needed to put your mind at ease.

“(Y/N),” he spoke slowly and softly, leaning towards you ever so slightly, “no one is hiding anything from you. Stop worrying.”

You swallowed hard. You believed him, but you needed that extra little bit of confirmation. “You promise?”

Brendon’s eyes narrowed for a second, and he swallowed too. “I promise.”

~

Brendon approached the glass window, taking a stand next to The Director while they both viewed the captured assassin.

“Still won’t say anything?”

“Hail Hydra,” The Director scoffed with a shake of the head. “Poor kid’s mind has been toyed with like a rag doll. But we need to get him to crack; that’s the only way we’ll be able to track them.”

“The only way, sir?”

The Director turned to Brendon and raised an eyebrow. “Are you insinuating what I think you are, Agent?”

Brendon sighed, casting his eyes down to the floor before looking back at his superior. “I just can’t help but feel like you - we’ve - made a mistake.” The Director tilted his head forward, urging Brendon to continue. “If we leave this any longer, and she finds out… there’s no way she’ll ever trust us again. It’ll be over.”

“You sound like him,” The Director chuckled, cocking his head at the man on the other side of the window.

“As messed-up as he is, and even though it probably wasn’t even his own thoughts, he’s right. If she finds out on her own – or worse, if they find a way to get it through to her – we can bet our asses that she wont want us anywhere near her. Let alone helping her.”

“She doesn’t have a choice about whether or not we’re looking over her,” The Director frowned. “We always have, and we always will. Nothing will change that; not even her turning her back on us.”

“We’re all just supposed to ignore the fact?” Brendon asked.

“Not ignore the fact. Manage it. It’s not something we can just dump on her in passing. No, it’s a gradual process; once she’s really, truly ready, we will tell her. But until then, we will carry on as we always have. We’ve been able to control it thus far; I’m sure we can keep it up until this shitstorm blows over.”

“We’ve been able to control it thus far because we were the only ones who knew about it,” Brendon argued, his voice becoming urgent. “But we’re not the only ones anymore. They-“

“I am fully conscious of the situation, Agent. I knew this would happen right from the moment I first held her in my arms. I also knew that she would be kept safe. Always. And luckily, I have people close to her who will do exactly that. Correct, Agent?”

Brendon ground his teeth. “Yes, sir. But what happens if, God forbid, they do find a way to tell her before we do. What then?”

“Then, Brendon,” The Director pursed his lips and turned to face the window once more; Brendon knew that by using his name instead of ‘Agent’ or ‘Urie’, The Director was speaking to him on a personal level, not as superior to inferior. “We’re royally fucked.”

~

“I’m bored.”

“Yeah, and I’m having the time of my life over here,” Brendon snarled, tossing a baseball from one hand to the other. “Suck it up.”

“I’ve been sucking it up for the past four months,” you spat, hands angrily closing around the edge of the glass table. “If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to go insane.”

“Hmph.”

“Can we please go somewhere that isn’t HQ? Please.”

“No.”

“I’m suffocating in here.”

“You seem to be breathing just fine to me.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” you breathed, closing your eyes and groaning. “Five minutes outside. That’s all I ask.”

Brendon laughed. “You won’t last ten seconds before there’s a bullet in your head.”

You huffed. “If I have to stay in this fucking room for another minute, I’m going to scream.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

He shot you a challenging look, raising both eyebrows.

“Okay,” you mused. You opened your mouth, preparing to let out a shriek, which you did. It only lasted a couple of seconds, though, before a firm hand clamped down over your mouth to prevent you from making any more noise.

“Keep your annoying mouth shut, and I’ll take you somewhere that isn’t this room, alright?”

You nodded eagerly, smiling under Brendon’s hand. He removed it slowly, and you beamed up at him.

“Where are you gonna take me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

~

“This is your surprise?” you scrunched up your nose as you looked around at the training centre you were standing in. “Not gonna lie, I was expecting something a lot more exciting.”

Brendon dumped a crate full of supplies in front of you with a grunt, wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow. “Who says this isn’t exciting?”

“No offense, but normal people,” you gestured to yourself, “don’t exactly view violence as exciting.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, opening the crate and pulling a handgun and crossbow out. “I don’t see any normal people anywhere in this room, so…”

“Funny,” you gave him a sarcastic smile.

He cleared his throat and held out the crossbow to you. “I believe you’re somewhat familiar with this.”

You gently took the weapon from him, a wave of familiarity and memories washing over you as you did so. Running your fingers over the cool metal, you smiled. You hadn’t held one of those things in quite some time – 3 years to be exact – but positioning it in your hold, it felt like just yesterday when you’d trained with your father.

“Why are you giving me this?” you questioned, turning to your bodyguard, who was loading his gun.

“Because,” he bared his teeth as he cocked the gun, “you’re bored, I’m sick of babysitting you and we could both do with letting off a bit of steam so,” he raised the one hand of his holding the gun and pulled the trigger four times, each bullet hitting the target right in the bull’s-eye.

You recoiled a bit from the shock of his sudden movements, but quickly got over it and moved to stand next to him. Getting into the correct position, you fired your own weapon, hitting the bull’s-eye as well.

Brendon made an impressed face. “Not bad, (Y/L/N).”

“Thank you, Urie.”

He raised both eyebrows at your boldness, making you giggle. His lips twitched upwards in what you could only assume was his version of a smile, but of course, it was only for a millisecond. But you caught it nevertheless and gasped.

“What?”

“Have we entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

He scoffed, moving to get another round of ammunition from the crate. “Please. I haven’t smiled in years. I wouldn’t break my streak for you.”

“Dick,” you jeered under your breath.

The two of you did some more target practice for little while; you alternated between the crossbow and a handgun, while Brendon cycled through basically every weapon in the crate.

“Hey,” you said, reloading your weapon, “how come we’re able to do this? I mean, shouldn’t we be worrying about Hydra attacking again? It’s been almost two weeks since Stuttgart.”

“We’re quite securely hidden this time around. I reckon we have at least another three to four weeks before they manage to find us. Of course, we’re doing everything we can to get that Hydra punk to give us something to work with. The longer we’re without the knowledge of the Tesseract’s whereabouts, the worse it’ll be in the long run.”

You nodded in understanding. Looking over at Brendon shooting with the crossbow, a solution to eliminating your boredom for the next few weeks struck you.

“Can you teach me?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, turning to face you with a confused expression. “Can I what?”

“Teach me,” you repeated, gesturing all around the room. “Ya know, all the agent stuff.”

“Agent stuff?”

You sighed. “Yes. Like, using a hundred and one different types of weapons… hand to hand combat… reading people’s minds etcetera.”

“You want me to train you to become an agent?” he clarified, taking steps toward you. You nodded in confirmation. “No.”

“Why not?” you questioned angrily. “My boredom is only gonna get worse. Do you really want to deal with that for the next however many weeks?”

“You can’t be trained to be an agent.”

“Why not? I already know all of the basics, and it’s not like I’m going to go out on missions or something. It’s just a pastime.”

“No.”

“Do you have an emotional attachment to that word or something?” you tucked your hair behind your ear, annoyed.

“(Y/N), even if I wanted to train you – which I don’t – The Director would kill me if he found out.”

“I won’t tell him.”

“(Y/N),” he said sternly, that common tone of finality present in his voice. “No.”

You inhaled deeply. “I hate you.”

“So you’ve mentioned.” He placed the weapons back into the crate, shutting it. “Come on. Time to get back.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading x

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[writingwitchly]

The perfect gift

Valentine’s Specials - 3 - Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader Word count: 1,8k  Warning: fluff A/N: no author’s note, please, don’t make me write anymore today, my chuckles hurt (this looks so shallow next to @obsessionsandothersandmore’s last work) Check out my other Valentine’s Specials!

A week. You have been bearing with Sirius’ insistent pestering for an entire week. What you get in return are a couple of reprimands, an awful Potions mark, and a burning sensation in your chest.

   Wednesday 8th of February 1978

“What would the perfect Valentine’s gift be?”

You lift your head up from your Transfiguration essay and look at the boy who asked the question.

He dangerously tilted his chair backwards, crossed his arms, and stretched his legs to rest his enormous black boots, covered in mud, on the table.

Mrs. Pince will be delighted.

“Why do you ask?”

He frowns at you. “Well, because I want to offer a gift to my Valentine.”

You knowingly smile. Sirius has never managed to go out with somebody for more than three days. His current crush will probably never resist a week.

“And do you have one?”

“Not yet,” he grumbles. “Stop laughing! I need your help.”

You sight and lower your quill, the corner of your eyes still wet because of the hard laugh.

“Okay, then. For who is it?”

Your friend bites his inferior lip, frustrated. “I can’t tell you.”

You chuckle. Why so much mystery?

“At least give me a hint about the personality of your not-yet-Valentine.” He winces, so you repeat, “A hint, not their biography. Their gender maybe.”

“I can’t,” he repeats.

“Why?”

“You’d guess who it is.”

You giggle harder. “Sirius, there are at least a thousand of us around here, I will never guess someone by their gender!”

“I prefer to avoid taking the risk. So, the gift?”

Merlin, how stubborn he can be.

“I guess a book always works fine as a present.”

He smiles, as if he hadn’t thought about it, and raises.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best.”

Under your amused look, he runs out of the library, making Mrs. Pince, who was in his way, drop some books and imprecate.

Whomever that person is, they must be very important to make Sirius run like this.

And also very lucky.

   Thursday 9th of February 1978

“Are you sure a book is the best gift?”

Sirius’ improvised question makes you jump. As a result, you drop three leaves of Eucalyptus instead of two in your cauldron.

“Merlin’s night robes,” you mutter, witnessing how your perfectly apple green liquid is turning a fade red.

You glance sideways at where James is consciously gathering ingredients. At his left, Sirius is looking at you.

“Is it really the best moment to discuss this kind of things?” you ask, irritated.

He shrugs, an amused smirk on his lips, as what was supposed to be your Troll bite cure turns blue with pink bubbles.

You roll your eyes. “A rose is great,” you say. “Give them a rose.”

His smirk turns into a gratitude smile and he blows you a magical kiss that reaches your cheek with a loud ‘smack’.

You blush.

   Friday 10th of February 1978

“Isn’t there anything more special than a rose?”

You choke with the mouthful of potatoes you were chewing.

Sirius hands you a goblet of pumpkin juice and sits next to you.   

"Hello to you too, Sirius," you manage to say after recovering your voice.

He lets out a bark of a laugh and apologizes.

"Hello," he finally says. "How was your day?"

For a few minutes, your conversation jumps from random topics to more random topics. When you raise to go back to classes, he grabs your arm, and makes you sit again.

"What?"

"The gift," he simply says.

"Why don't you like the rose?" you ask, a bit surprised by his insistence and the dedication he puts into finding the perfect gift.

"I like it. I just want another idea, in case something goes wrong with this one.”

Sirius Orion Black is definitely the most peculiar boy you’ve ever met.

“You can offer them a jewel. A necklace maybe.”

He seems to think it a bit and then, with a jolt of excitement, he hugs you.

After a quick ‘thank you’, he sprints off toward the exit of the Great Hall.

   Saturday 11th of February 1978

Your Quidditch captain insisted on having an additional practice with the team today.

The seven of you walked on the field at 6 a.m., terribly missing your woolen blankets and warm pajamas. But now, the Sun is at its zenith, and you’d pay ten galleons to have a bit of the early coolness back.

“Let’s try some bludger skipping,” cries the captain, “And then we’ll be done for today.”

Comforted by the thought of giving a last effort, the group parts in two: the beaters on one side and other players facing them.

It’s your turn. You have to fly straight to the opposite side of the field without getting hit by a bludger.

You are already halfway when a voice from down below rings in your ears,

“Y/N! I’m not convinced by the necklace!”

What?

A zooming sound alarms you, and you dodge a ball at the last moment, avoiding a ten-feet-high fall.

You ask permission to your captain to land.

As soon as you touch the ground, you shout at Sirius, “Do you want me to die? That bludger was going to hit me right in the face!”

“You look nice like this,” he says cheerfully instead of answering. “All sweaty, very attractive.”

“Oh, spare me your sarcasm, Black. ‘m not in the mood.”

For a few seconds, you simply look at each other: you, too tired to talk, and him, giving you a break.

“A teddy bear,” you finally mutter. “But-”

You prevent him from running away by holding your palm to his chest.

“Promise me that you won’t come closer than 10 feet to me tomorrow. It’s Sunday and I’d like to spend it peacefully.”

“I promise,” he articulates exaggeratedly.

Before racing away, he does the most unexpected thing in the world: he leaves a kiss on the side of your face.

“See you on Monday then.”

   Sunday 12th of February, 1978

The day went by as calmly as it could. Sirius kept his promise.

As you read a book, comfortably seated in an armchair of the common room, you find yourself wondering what kind of gift you could have advised him today.

A faint ‘squeak’ causes you to look to the ground, from where a mousy-haired rat patiently observes you. It drops a folded paper from its mouth and hurriedly darts away to hide behind a tall shelf.

Curious about the animal’s behavior, you lean forward and pick up the piece of paper. Inside, a messy handwriting forms the words:

Isn’t there anything more original than a teddy bear?

You look at the scrap of paper in disbelief, wondering if Sirius will ever run out of questions. Or if he’ll find the gift that suits his expectations before.

You grab a pencil from the table next to you and hastily write:

Chocolates and sweets

Then, you put the paper where it was on the floor and get back to your reading. A series of tiny steps and weak shuffling confirm you that the rat picked the message up.

As the rodent leaves the room, it doesn’t notice the huge grin plastered on your face.

   Monday 13th of February 1978

“Good morning, sunshine!”

This time, you were ready. There are no Potions cauldrons, nor angry librarians, nor potatoes, nor bludgers around you, threatening your life.

However, you’re a bit disappointed to see James, and not his dark-haired best friend, looking at you.

“Hello, James,” you greet him, lowering your gaze to your backpack. The Charms book doesn’t want to fit in today.

“Is there something you need?” you ask, swinging one of the straps over your shoulder. The boy with glasses is still looking at you expectantly.

“Well, I was wondering, tomorrow is the fourteenth.”

“Yes?”

“Is there something special I could offer to Lily?”

Must be a new trend -- to ask you about Valentine’s gifts. Maybe you should start charging for it.

“I gave Sirius a few ideas these past days,” you answer. “I’m sure that if you ask him, he’ll tell you one. He’s got more than he could need now.”

With a brief, but genuine, smile, you get around the young man and direct your steps toward the Astrology tower.

But if you believed to have convinced him, you were wrong. In two seconds, he catches up on you.

“I don’t trust Sirius. What would you like personally?”

“I’d love to receive a letter. Maybe with a few puns or pick up lines,” you decide after a short pause. “A letter is the best gift you can have. It doesn’t cost money, but time and dedication. And it allows you to understand perfectly how the person that wrote it feels about you.”

You turn to observe his reaction, and he grins at you.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Y/N, thanks.”

And, without further words, he walks back toward the class where you come from.

   Tuesday 14th of February 1978

A book, a rose, a necklace, a teddy bear, a box of chocolates and sweets… It’s all there, at the bottom of your four-poster bed.

You can’t believe it. The whole list of gifts you’ve advised Sirius to offer his Valentine is displayed in front of you.

You take your time unwrapping them, attaching the pendant around your neck, hugging the stuffed bear, eating a few of the candies, reading the summary on the back of the book, inhaling the rose’s perfume. All this with the goofiest and the most silly smile on your face.

As the time to have breakfast approaches, you get ready as carefully as you could.

You count the steps to the Great Hall to prevent your heart from skipping too many beats.

Once there, you cross the entrance and scan the crowd of students present.

Finally, you spot him, and a burning sensation, like a ball of fire, invades your chest.

He acknowledges you with a wink and comes toward you. Every one of his moves looks wonderful to you. An aura follows him, making his face glow like the one of a god.

You don’t see him normally anymore. You see him through the eyes of somebody that has been in love for so long and is finally confirmed that the feeling is reciprocal.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” you whisper, unable to say more.

“Did you like the surprises?”

“I- I loved them,” you stutter, your heart dangerously racing.

“Didn’t you notice that something was missing?”

“Really?”

You dig as far as you can in your memory, but you can’t find what is the missing gift.

“I don’t think so,” you reply.

Meanwhile, your eyes fall upon a huge teddy bear, the size of a house-elf, and the girl to whom it has been offered. Lily Evans looks radiant.

But James wasn’t supposed to…

“A letter?” you ask eagerly.

“You know that I am not talented with words,” he admits. “But I received a message this morning. It was from Cupid... He says to tell you that he needs my heart back.”

You laugh, and it’s the most beautiful sound Sirius has ever heard. He grabs your chin and force you to look at him in the eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my Valentine?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my Valentine.”

Take a peek at my other Valentine’s Specials!

1- Fred Weasley: For a good cause Fred and you are going to be late to Molly’s beloved Valentine’s Day Party! And as if it was not enough, he keeps chatting with the seller of the jewelry shop! This is not a good set-up for the day of love, but what if it was for a good cause?

2- Draco Malfoy: Missing you This year, for sure, you won’t spend Valentine’s day with the boy you love. But you miss him, so you decide to meet him anyway. Your reward? A bump -- and a few thousands of kisses.

4- Regulus Black: A love letter  It’s Valentine’s Day. You didn’t expect any letter. But you got one.

5- Remus Lupin: My last minute Valentine  Dumbledore’s Valentine’s Day Party means watching the happy couples dance together while you sit on a golden chair. Could anything save the day? This unexpected dance partner isn’t what you were thinking about!

Whole masterlist

[lawchan89]

Now More Than Ever

A sequel to @ghostgetters prompt ‘cause she just had to end it on that cliffhanger that just had to inspire me to continue it. Please read her original before this one, as you might be a tad confused, plus I love to promote my friends :)

“Get the Queen to Medical!”

Their lips had separated, but they still remained close to each other, Star clinging to the fabric covering Marco’s upper arms. Everything around her suddenly felt like white noise. The warnicorns’ fervent neighing, the overlapping shouts of the guards and servants, even Marco’s heavy breathing right beside her.

“M-Medical?” he squeaked out, his arms trembling around her waist. “But why? She was fine, what happened?”

Eclipsa’s curse...the deal they made...the dark magic...those veins on her arms...It all repeated itself in Star’s head like some sort of deathly chorus of haunted voices. Until finally, one voice rose above all of them to snap her out of her numb stupor: Her own.

“Mom!” Star shouted, and Marco felt himself being yanked by the arm back through the window into her bedroom, down the darkened hallway gradually being lit by candles by a few handmaidens. They crashed right into two of the burly guards who had been on their way to her room to inform her of the queen’s condition, and Marco yelled an apology over his shoulder as Star continued to drag him down several flights of stairs.

She was oblivious to her surroundings, the people calling her name, and the crowd outside of the infirmary door that she roughly pushed herself past to get them through. It wasn’t until she caught sight of King River, standing petrified by the door watching a multitude of doctors examine his wife, that even the slightest hint of an emotion graced her features.

“Star -- Marco, thank goodness you’re both here,” River exhaled shakily, staring up at them with wide blue eyes riddled with worry.

“What’s wrong with her?” Star asked, her voice panting and husky from the great distance she had just run. “She was fine when we saved Marco from Eclipsa.”

“We don’t know, dearest, she just collapsed,” the stout man shook his head. “She hasn’t been responsive since we brought her here. She was just about to give the order to the High Commission to prevent any and all entry to the ancient Monster Temple until further notice, and then...Rhombulus caught her before she hit the floor.”

“Oh no,” Marco breathed, his heart suddenly seized in an icy grip.

“That dark magic in her veins -- it’s eating her up inside. Did she engage in combat with Eclipsa, Star?”

“Well yeah, of course she did!” Star exclaimed. “Grandma Eclipsa--” She stopped once the words left her tongue, grimacing as if she had just tasted something dirty and rotten. She had never felt so disgusted to call someone family in her life. “She had Marco under her spell, and Mom...she saved him.”

She saved him for me. Oh Mom...you brought him back to me. You knew. You always knew, didn’t you?

“Dad...Daddy.” The words crackled in her throat, breaking further and further as Star threw her free arm around her father’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder as River gently shushed her, stroking her long golden hair.

Marco squeezed Star’s hand tighter, his eyes wandering the room so he wouldn’t stare at the intense emotion before him. Seated in a chair off to the side was Tom, his long-nailed lilac hands fisted on top of his knees as he stared into his lap. His third eye found Marco first before the other two caught up, utter dejection etched into his features.

“You okay?” he mouthed, and Marco nodded. The demon prince’s gaze flickered to where Star and Marco’s hands were joined, and he gave a tiny nod before his eyes drifted back to the queen’s hospital bed.

“Prince Thomas helped carry your mother here,” River said quietly to Star, who had glanced at Tom out the corner of her eye. “We knew she had to be looked at as soon as possible.”

“Your Majesty,” one of the surgeons called over to him, then caught sight of Star and inclined his head, “Your Royal Highness.” The half dozen doctors parted to reveal Queen Moon, lying pale and sickly, her darkened diamond emblems outstanding against her white skin, the dark violet veins crawling further and further towards her shoulders.

“Moon,” River breathed as he swept closer to the bed, kneeling to kiss her blackened hand as Star joined him beside her. Marco tried to hang back, as he knew this wasn’t his place to intrude, but Star refused to let go of his hand. So he sank to the ground, cupping his other hand around her shoulder and gripping it firmly. He didn’t know what else he could do.

Queen Moon’s heavy lids finally opened, glancing into the drawn faces of her husband and daughter. “River...the darkness...I am in s-so much pain.” Her voice was barely even a whisper, and the king placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Rest, my love,” he sighed out while his fingers combed through her periwinkle hair. “You saved your kingdom tonight. You saved Marco. You have done us all proud.”

“Star…” The call of her name wafted away like a wisp of smoke, and the princess seized her hand resting atop her stomach.

“Mom, I’m here,” Star choked out, terrified at how diseased the queen’s hand truly was. “I’m right here, you’re -- you’re gonna be okay.”

“My darling child.” A faint hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Moon’s lips, her sapphire eyes brightening as Star’s baby blue ones brimmed with tears. “You are going to be...a great queen.”

A flash of terror seized Star’s chest, squeezing her heart in its unrelenting grasp. “N-no, not for awhile. We -- we got years ‘til we have to think about that! Right, Mom?!”

“Eclipsa...is still out there. She will not hesitate...to strike again.” Her eyes found Marco’s, “Stay by my daughter’s side. You are her lifeline.”

“I know,” Marco whispered, a lone tear rolling down his cheek. “I will.”

Moon pulled her hand out of Star’s to cup it around her face, her little girl’s tears spilling over in twin tracks that broke her heart emblems down the middle. “You know...what you must do.”

“Mom, no! No!” Star’s shriek echoed out into the corridor as her mother’s eyes fell closed. “Mommy, wake up! You have to wake up, please Mommy!”

“Moon!” River bellowed, his shoulders heaving in anguish, cradling her slender form in his arms. “Come back...come back to me…”

Star’s breaths trembled in her lungs as she slid away from the bed, her nails clawing at the pristine sheets as one of the surgeons rushed over to check Moon’s pulse.

“She’s comatose,” he said solemnly. “A prolonged effect of this dormant curse. We will do our best to keep it at bay, but…”

No one seemed to be listening to him; River was still clutching his motionless wife, weeping into her neck, as Star slumped backwards onto the floor. But she felt the hand on her shoulder, the other hand now hot and sweaty in hers, and knew she couldn’t process all of this at once. After everything that had happened, after she thought things were in the clear, after she finally told Marco everything that was in her heart, the universe pulled a fast one on her and crushed her soul into dust.

“Star…” Marco breathed gently into her ear. He didn’t get any further than that: A gut-wrenching sob tore through her as the princess flung herself into the arms of her squire, pressing her soaking face into his warm red hoodie as wave after wave of convulsions rippled through her. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her hair, placing a kiss on top of her head.

Her nails dug into his back, keeping him firmly in place, huddled with her crumpled form in his tight embrace. And in her own way, she was still giving him an order as her squire. An order to stay there...and never leave her.

“What’s up?” Tom asked as casually as he could, sitting up from his seat in the corridor as Marco emerged from the infirmary alone.

“They’re having a meeting,” he jabbed his thumb behind him at the closing door. “Star, her dad and the High Commission. About...what to do now.”

Tom’s face paled. “Do they think Queen Moon will--?”

Marco shrugged. “No one knows for sure. Too early to tell. She’s stable, but...obviously she can’t run the kingdom like this.”

“That means--”

“Star has to act in her place.”

Tom let out a growl, his palms beginning to smoke. “It’s not right -- she’s only fifteen! Can’t her dad do it or something?”

“You know that’s not how it works,” Marco said, dropping next to him on the bench. “Queen Moon’s mother d--” He shut his mouth quickly, glancing around at the crowd milling outside the infirmary, murmuring in tones worthy of a funeral home. “I mean, she became queen when she was Star’s age.” Marco could already hear informants drifting from person to person, trying to quell the rumors that the queen had died. He didn’t need his poor wording to make things worse.

He chewed on the inside of lip as he eyed the demon warily. This was the first time they had been one-on-one since -- well, everything happened. And quite frankly, he didn’t even know where to start.

Luckily, he didn’t have to break the ice. “This was all for you, you know. Everyone’s suffering tonight because Star and her mom ran off to rescue you.”

“Thanks for that, Tom.” Marco couldn’t really blame the guy for being sore with him. He had just broken up with his girlfriend. Who happened to be the very girl Marco had been kissing passionately on the roof only an hour ago. It felt like an eternity now.

“Listen, I know you’re trying to work up some kind of apology in your head, but don’t bother,” Tom sighed out irritably in one breath, then changed his tact when he saw his friend’s forlorn expression. “I mean, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Not about Eclipsa or the corruption or...you know.” He shook his hands until the steam disapperated from them, “I was the one who ended it anyway.”

“So I heard,” Marco muttered. “Again, ‘cause of me.”

“‘Cause of both of you.” Tom paused. “She’s pretty irresistible, isn’t she?”

“Yeah...yeah, she is.”

“It’s fine -- really,” Tom insisted, now looking Marco square in the eye. “I care about her a lot, and...I know what I need to be for her now. An ally. She’s gonna need as many allies as she can get with all this going on. And I plan to be on the front lines with her.”

“I’ll save you a spot,” Marco nodded, the corner of his mouth upturning in a lopsided smirk.

“Pray, lend your ears to King River and Princess Star,” Manfred’s voice projected over the quiet rumbling of the crowd, who silenced themselves as River stepped out into the hallway with Star, Rhombulus, Hekapoo and Omnitraxus behind him.

“People of Mewni,” the king began, raising his hands in a half-hearted manner. “Your Queen is in very grave health. While our medical staff is doing everything in their power to keep her stable, there is no telling when...or if she will awaken.” A flurry of whispers began again, overpowered by a few punctured whimpers before River cleared his throat. “Therefore as the Magic High Commission has decreed, until further notice, the duties of the Queen shall henceforth be bequeathed to her heir.”

“Poor child,” Marco heard an elderly woman in the crowd whisper sadly as Star stepped forward, her face gleaming with unrestrained tears.

She took a deep quivering breath, “Eclipsa is still out there, and we cannot let her win. I placed my trust in her, only to find out that she had her own agenda. I’ve made some terrible mistakes that have put my kingdom and my loved ones in danger. And for that, I ask Mewni’s forgiveness. For tonight, we’ll rest and grieve. But come tomorrow, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

The corridor remained still, aside from some nods scattered amongst them. Marco had no idea what possessed him in that moment -- perhaps it was how small and wounded the girl he loved was -- but he leapt up onto the bench, towering over the heads of the stunned crowd.

“All hail Princess Star!”

“Hear hear!” Tom followed a beat behind him, punching his fist into the air.

“To Princess Star!” River called, prompting the crowd to follow.

“Princess Star,” the chorus of voices finally rose, weary and dumbfounded, but still firm nonetheless. As the mass of people finally thinned out, Marco jumped down from the bench to find Star conversing with Hekapoo, the scissors forger pulling her into a quick hug before leaving with the rest of the Commission.

“I mean it, Dad, please go to sleep,” Star begged as she burrowed into River’s embrace. “Mom’s not gonna get better any faster if you stay awake all night.”

“For you, my Star, I will try my best.” Spotting Marco and Tom over her shoulder, River gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before whispering, “Make sure those boys don’t kill each other.”

“Daddy,” she hissed, pulling back and watching him retreat with concern until he was out of sight down the hall.

“Uh, I know things are kinda awkward right now, but I just want you to know--” Tom was cut off as Star hugged him fiercely around the neck.

“Thank you for taking care of her,” she whimpered. “You’re a good guy, Tom. Really.”

“I do my best,” Tom said, squeezing her tight before they parted. “I better head home and let my folks know what happened. So, ya know, expect some reinforcements soon.”

“I appreciate it,” Star managed a smile. Once the flames highlighting Tom’s departure disappeared, she turned to find Marco standing alone at the bench, the moonlight from the arched window creating a halo around his dark head.

“I…” He stopped. For once, he was speechless. “I dunno what to say, Star.”

“Don’t say anything.” A fresh bout of tears sent more glittering streams down Star’s face, feeling them drip off her chin onto her chest. Marco couldn’t stand it anymore and he stepped closer, cupping her face to brush her tears away as she closed her eyes and let him.

“Star listen, anything you need me to do, anything at all, I’m ready to be your squire. First and foremost.”

“I need this.” Sliding her arms around his waist, Star pulled herself against his chest, inhaling his scent and listening to the assurance of his beating heart. A soft velvety pair of warm lips grazed her forehead, and her fingers fumbled for his face before the princess brought her lips to his in an earnest kiss, which, after gaining the permission of her grieving heart, he reciprocated.

“I need you, Marco Diaz. More than I have ever needed you before.”

[filmfanatic82]

The Long Game - Chapter 15: Touching the Void

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 15: Touching the Void

“Kiiiimmmiiieeee!”

Kim can’t help but smile as she climbs up into the zord cavern and spots Zack sitting on top of his black mastodon zord. “Hey.”

Zack clumsily hops down, careful not to spill the half-empty bottle of tequila in his hand and matches her smile with his signature goofy grin. “You convince Crazy Girl to stay?”

“Sorta.”

Zack raises an eyebrow. “Sorta?”

Kim takes a seat against a large boulder and lets out a light sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“When is it not with you two?”

“Touché.”

Zack lowers himself down next to Kim and takes a swig of tequila. A moment of silence passes between the two of them, then--

“I get it.”

“Get what?”

“What you did. I get it. Still pretty fucked you that you didn’t give us a heads up, but I get it.” Zack offers Kim the bottle, but she turns him down with a light shake of her head.

“Thanks,” Kim responds trying to keep her composure. She’s already emotionally and mentally drained from the last hour and half of re-hashing the past with Jason. “Jason and I already got into your stash in the morphing grid.”

“Niiiice.” Zack takes another swig. “Did he finally pull his head outta his ass?”

“More or less.”

“Good. Knew my homeboy would come around.” Zack finishes the last of the bottle and then launches it over the edge of the ledge with a sudden burst of alcohol fueled energy. “Tiny will come around too. She just needs some time to be all broody and shit.”

Kim lets a sarcastic chuckle slip out at these words. “Yeah. Good thing we’ve got tons and tons of time.”

“She loves you.”

Kim raises an eyebrow in Zack’s direction.

“Fine. Don’t believe me. But she does. Never stopped. Not for a single moment. I mean sure she dated other girls and swore up and down for years that she was over you. But I know Tiny better than anyone else in the entire world. That girl will always love you. No matter how much you fuck up or break her heart.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t,” Kim quietly replies as she stares out into the dark abyss of the cavern.

“That’s just stupid, Kimmie.”

“Is it? All I’ve done is hurt her.”

Zack takes a moment, allowing them to sit in the silence and then—

“Did Trini ever tell you what went down after my mom died?”

“No.”

“I developed this like epic death wish and spent years being nothing but an absolute prick to Trini,” Zack responds with a heavy exhale of air. “I was dead set on pushing her away. Cause it was easier… Cleaner. But every time I fucked up, there she was. Ready to kick my ass and chew me out in both Spanish and English. And finally, one day I woke up and realized that this what unconditional love looks like. When someone is willing to be there no matter what. Regardless of how much of an ass you are.”

Kim runs her hands through her hair as she lets Zack’s words settle down upon her. “I love her too.”

Zack just nods in response and then, in a slightly unorthodox move, extends his arm, wrapping it around Kim’s shoulder. Kim leans into him and lets out a sigh of utter exhaustion as she rests her head against his shoulder.

“Kimmie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just how much money do you really have?”

A smile slowly crawls across Kim’s face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Like are we talkin’ millions as in ‘buy a private jet’ millions?”

“Not answering that.”

“C’mon. Please? Just a hint.”

Kim shakes her head, unable to hold back the laughter. “Not happenin’ Zack.”

“Fiiine,” Zack replies with a bit of an overly dramatic pout. “You know I’m gonna find out one way or another.”

“Yeah. I know.”

A comforting silence creeps back in again between the two of them, as they sit there looking out onto the cavern, just existing with one another.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Trini?” Kim whispers from the doorway of the medical bay, almost as if she doesn’t want the small sleeping latina to actually hear her.

Trini lays curled up on one of the spare cots in the far corner of the room, seemingly dead to the world. She doesn’t even stir at the sound of Kim’s voice.

Kim lingers for a moment or two in the doorway just watching Trini sleep, too afraid to even take a single step within the actual room itself.

Then, she notices it.

There, bunched up within Trini’s hands, in the yellow beanie that Kim had bought for her just a few days ago at Target. Her fingers dig deep into the soft yellow fabric as if clinging to a lifeline.

A small conflicted smile spreads across Kim’s face as she takes in the sight. Every single ounce of her very being craves simply just to lay down beside Trini, wrap her arms around her, and never let go. To live there in that moment, forgetting all that has occurred and all that is to come.

But Kim knows better.

She���s already caused Trini more than a lifetime’s worth of heartache. No use doing any more damage, regardless of Kim’s own selfish wishes and desires.

Kim lets out a long exhale of air and then quietly moves into the medical bay, paying extra caution not to make any sound whatsoever. As she approaches Trini, she digs into her back pocket of her jeans and pulls out a slight crumpled envelope.

The letter had been Zack’s idea. One born out of a lengthy conversation between the two of them covering a vast array of topics including Kim’s love/ hate relationship with the game of blackjack and how exactly they were going to defeat the First once and for all. The latter topic had been the hardest to discuss. Although Kim tired to keep it strictly to the facts, it was simply impossible to prevent her emotions from creeping in.

And Zack had been no better. Thanks to the bottle of tequila already coursing through his system, the boy was nothing more than a emotional mess by the time Kim finished walking him through the plan. Up until that point, she has never really seen him cry. Maybe a few stray tears here and there, but never had Kim witnessed Zack letting down his goofy facade and bearing his true, raw emotions.

After some comforting words and an extra lengthy hug or two, Zack had proposed that Kim write Trini a letter instead of telling Trini first hand.

Kim looks down at the envelop and lets out a long, hard sigh. She knows deep down that this is the coward’s way out. Slip a letter under Trini’s pillow and be already gone by the time the girl wakes.

But what other choice is there?

Talking to Jason and Zack had be heart wrenching enough. Kim can’t even imagine how she would handle telling Trini. Or even if she could actually go through with it at all.

No. Kim’s already done enough permanent damage.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Kim quietly approaches Trini and gently tucks the letter underneath the small latina’s arm. She lets her fingers linger for an extra second or two, ever so gently ghosting over Trini’s flawless features, as if committing every inch to memory.

Then, Kim reaches into her shirt, unclasps the sabertooth necklace, and with one final squeeze, carefully places it down on the cot, right next to the letter.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“But there’s gotta be something, right?” Jason rubs the back of his neck in an attempt to release some of his pent up nerves.

Billy glances up from the control panel screen and takes note of Jason’s agitated state. “I’m afraid not. I’ve been studying these texts for years now and there’s nothing. Not even an obscure reference. Everything I’ve read aligns perfectly with what Zordon and Kim have said will happen. But, that being said, no one has ever done this before so maybe there will be some sort of anomaly that we haven’t accounted for.”

“Yeah. Maybe…” Jason trails off, still battling with his ever growing fear and anxiety.

Billy reaches back and gently takes hold of Jason’s hand, giving it a loving squeeze. This simple act, instantly stops Jason in his tracks as a wave of calmness washes over him. He wraps his arms around Billy, encompassing his husband in a deep hug and rests his head on Billy’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to lose her again,” Jason whispers softly into the air between them, voice ever so slightly quivering.  

Billy leans back and plants a tender kiss on Jason’s lips. “We’re not going to.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Billy shrugs. “Not sure really. Guess I just have faith that we’ll figure something out… We always do.”

“Knew I’d find you guys here,” Kim says as she makes her way into the morphing grid.

Billy and Jason instantly untangle from each other at the sound of Kim’s voice and each greet her with sympathetic smile.

“Where you’ve been?” Jason asks, making room for Kim to join the two of them.

“Taking care of some business.”

“Zack?”

Kim nods. “Yeah. I bought him up to speed.”

“And Trini?” Billy stops messing around with the control panel, giving Kim his full attention.

“I wrote her a letter. It explains the basics. At least enough to keep her safe.”

“A letter?” Jason raises an eyebrow in Kim’s direction.

“I know,” Kim sighs running her hands through her hair. “Not ideal, but I just…”

Kim trails off unable to finish her sentence. She can’t.

“We’ll fill her in on the rest when she wakes up,” Jason responds with a look of understanding.

“Thanks.”

“You leaving soon?” Billy asks.

“Yeah probably. No need to prolong the inevitable, right?”

Upon these words, Jason reach out and places his hand on Kim’s shoulder, trying to provide what comfort he can. “You don’t have to go alone. One of us can go with you.”

“Too risky. Besides, it’s not like you won’t be there. You know the plan. Just wait for the signal. It’s rigged that as soon as I enter the realm, Alpha 5 will be alerted.”

“The alert is really just a precautionary, backup measure. As Kim crosses into the realm, we should more or less feel it occur. Or at least have some internal sense that something is off,” Billy chimes in.

“Ranger connection?”

Kim gives Jason a nod in confirmation. “And then all you guys need to do fend off those faceless freaks from the Zeo Crystal until we know it’s worked.”

“What about the First? Or whatever form it’s gonna take this time,” Jason asks.

“It’ll be too busy with me,” Kim quietly responds devoid of any emotion whatsoever. She can’t let herself go there. Not yet.

“Kim, you don’t have to--” Jason starts in, voice laced with bubbling emotions.

“Don’t. Okay?” Kim stops him, placing her hand on top of his on her shoulder. “We both know I do.”

Tears start to whelm up in Jason’s eyes as he trying to produce a smile. “We’ll be there by your side. Through it all.”

“Counting on it,” Kim matches his smile and then pulls him in for a much needed hug. The two linger for a moment or two, neither one wanting to let go of the other. “Promise me you’ll stay away this time? No matter what happens?”

“I promise.”

“And Trini…”

“I’ll keep her away too,” Jason responds in a reassuring voice.

“Good. She’s kinda the one thing that anchors me and I don’t I’ll be able to cross over if--”

“Sublatis ancoris...” Billy suddenly pipes up as his face lights up with undiluted excitement. “That’s it.”

Without another word of explanation, Billy turns his attention back to the control panel and starts typing away at a feverish pace.

“B…” Kim exchanges a look of concern with Jason.

“Baby. What’s going--”

“Sublatis ancoris. It’s Latin for anchor,” Billy responds back, not taking his eyes off of the control panel.

“Okay. But what does that have to do with--”

“Kim said Trini’s her anchor,” Billy pauses for a moment, flipping back around to face Kim. “She grounds you, right? Whenever you’re having an episode?”

“Yeah,” Kim replies with a nod.

“Right. Okay, so in the creation scrolls, there are multiple references to a sublatis ancoris. At first, I just thought is was maybe some abstract object or something. Like an ancient relic because there was never a full description of what exactly it was. But now it makes sense. It’s needs to be something that the host has a strong personal connection to. The sublatis ancoris isn’t an object. It’s a person.”

“Still not fully following. So you’re saying--”

“Trini. Trini’s the anomaly we’ve been looking for… Or at least I think she is. I’m going to need to do some more research.”

With that, Billy goes back to typing on the control panel, getting instantaneously lost within his own thoughts.

Kim takes a moment as Billy’s revelation fully sinks in. An unfamiliar feeling floods her body. A feel Kim’s hasn’t felt in well over almost a decade now.

Hope.

“How much time do you need to figure it out?” Jason asks breaking the silence between the three of them.

“Not sure. Maybe thirty minutes? An hour at most?”

“Think you can hold on for that long?” Jason looks towards Kim with a newfound sense of purpose.

Kim runs her hands through her hair and lets out a long exhale of breath. “No clue. But I’m sure as hell am gonna try.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Kim takes her time walking from the quarry into town. Not that she really has much of it to spare, but yet still, she can’t bring herself to move any faster than a brisk walk.

As Kim moves one familiar place to another, she takes the time to fully appreciate her surrounding. Etching every inch to her memory as if this might be the last time she ever step foot in these places ever again.

Yes, thanks to sheer genius that is Billy, there’s a chance that it might not be the case. But still, in all honesty, that’s all it is…

A chance.

In the meantime, Kim’s destiny awaits.

As Kim rounds the corner, turning onto main street, she starts to notice the sheer stillness of everything. No cars. No people. Not even the ambient sounds of nature.

Absolutely nothing.

And it’s beyond unnerving.  

A pronounced chill runs straight down Kim’s spine, causing her to shove her hands into her pockets, wrapping her leather jacket around her body. She slows down her pace, eyes darting around, as her heartbeat starts to spike.

There’s still nothing… And yet, Kim is absolutely certain she isn’t alone.

Kim stops short, only 200 yards away from the deserted Krispy Kreme, and nervously runs her hands through her hair. She knows she needs to go further. Through those doors and into the proverbial belly of the beast. But for some reason, she can’t seem to will her feet to move.

So Kim stands there for a moment or two, simply staring down her destiny.

Then--

“KIMBERLY ANN HART!”

The singular voice slices through the silence, instantly pulling Kim out of the depths of her thoughts. She knows that voice. It’s the one, solitary voice that she’s be craving to hear, ever since she left the safety of the ship.

It’s Trini’s voice.

Kim slowly turns around to find the small latina racing towards her at a breakneck speed with clearly visible trails of tears streaming down her face.

“T? What are you--”

But before Kim can finish her sentence, Trini lips savagely attack, swallowing the rest of her words. Kim’s hands automatically snake their way into Trini’s short, sleek locks, pulling her closer, as years upon years worth of unspoken emotions pour out between the two of them.

It’s the type of kiss that Kim’s been desperately dreaming of ever since she left Angel Grove.

It’s pure and utter forgiveness.

After what feels like a lifetime, Trini pulls back and suddenly--

SLAP.

Kim’s hand moves up to the side of her face as she lets out a light laugh in surprise. “Are you ever gonna stop slapping me?”

“Are you ever gonna stop being an idiot?” Trini fires back giving Kim a slight two handed shove in the chest and then wraps Kim up in a hug. She leans her head on Kim’s shoulder, taking the moment to relish the closeness of their bodies.

“Trini, I’m--”

“Did you mean it?” Trini cuts Kim off as she pulls out the letter from her back pocket of her jeans.

“Every word.”

Tears whelm up in Trini’s eyes upon these words as a nerve laced smile spreads across her lips. “I love you too, Princess.”

Kim can’t help but lean in and capture Trini’s lips again as she feels matching tears start to pool in the corners of her own eyes. She heart swells to sizes that she never thought would ever being achieve again in her lifetime.

And for just a moment, Kim forgets it all. Where they are… Who they’re preparing for… And, of course, what’s to come…

All that exists is Trini, there within her arms, freely giving her the one and one thing only she never thought she’d have again.

Love.

But the moment passes. And Kim, once again, is brought back to the harsh reality of their situation.

Kim gently migrates her lips upwards, peppering Trini’s jawline with a series of light loving kisses, ending when she reaches the smaller latina’s ear lobe. She replaces her lips with her fingers, tucking back a loose strand of Trini’s hair and then matches Trini’s smile. “Did the boys fill you in? Do you--”

Trini lifts a finger to Kim’s lips, instantaneously hushing the raven haired girl. She reaches into her jean pocket, produces the sabertooth necklace, and starts to unclasp it. “Turn around.”

Kim does as she’s told, pushing her hair aside so Trini has clear access. She feels Trini’s fingers dance against the back of her neck as the familiar weight of the necklace once again settles on her chest.

“You’ve got this, Princess.” Trini finishes clasping the necklace and then lays her hand against the sabertooth tiger pendant. “I’ll be right there with you. Okay?”

Trini gives Kim one more gently kiss on the lips. But this kiss isn’t a goodbye kiss. No. It’s a promise. A promise that Trini means every word that she just uttered.

That this time around, Kim won’t be alone.    

Kim nods, unable to fully find her words. She swallows down her bubbling emotions, and then with a newfound sense of determination, heads straight for the Krispy Kreme.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The instant Kim steps foot into the Krispy Kreme, she feels it start. The all too familiar sense of rage and anger. It courses through her veins, quickly overpowering all her thoughts.

But unlike every time before, Kim doesn’t fight it. Instead, she simply stands there, waiting for it to fully overtake it.

A moment or two passes, and then--

Green.

Kim finds herself once again standing on the shoreline, overlooking the vast sea of emerald nothingness. It calls to her, like an itch begging to be scratched.

Kim takes one more sobering breath and then with her hand wrapped firmly around the sabertooth pendant, she finally gives into the urge and steps into the void.

[justanoutlawfic]

Beam Me Up: A Dragon Swan Fic

This is the result of shared headcanons between myself @bauerfanstraten, based on the scene in S6 where Rumple uses a dragon egg that never hatched as an ingredient. Lots of angst. Trigger warning: this story contains infant death.

Also on AO3

In my head I see your baby blues I hear your voice and I, I break in two and now there's One of me, with you So when I need you can I send you a sign I'll burn a candle and turn off the lights I'll pick a star and watch you shine-P!nk

Magic is truly a powerful thing. Possibly something even stronger, is true love.

 Which is how Maleficent ended up laying an egg that contained both her and Emma’s child.

 It was unplanned, but exciting. Neither had gotten the chance to raise their first children. For one, it was a choice she made for his best chance. For the other, it hadn’t been a choice at all.

 Their families were thrilled. The relationship between Maleficent and Emma had caused a bit of a shock to them all. The Charmings were supportive of their daughter, but they didn’t quite know their place. They had apologized to both Lily and Maleficent, but knew that an apology would never fix what happened. It had taken time, but things weren’t quite so awkward anymore. Lily took it a little harder. Emma had been her best friend as a child, now she was with her mother.

 The baby seemed to bring everyone together. Snow seemed to be their biggest cheerleader, wanting to throw them a baby shower and help decorate the nursery. No one could tell if it was pure excitement of getting a second grandchild or the guilt she felt. Probably a mix of both. Henry and Lily got to work making a secret project for the baby.

 Maleficent read practically every single parenting book there was, while Emma assembled the crib. Soon, all there was left to do was wait.

 And wait.

 And wait.

 At first, Maleficent thought maybe the baby was just a late bloomer. After all, when humans got pregnant, sometimes they went a bit past their due date. But when it had been a week past when she was due to hatch, they began to get worried. One morning, she was shaken awake by Emma.

 “Mal.” Her voice was cracking. “Mal, wake up.”

Maleficent’s eyes flickered open and she could see the worry filling her wife’s face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The egg’s cold.”

 Maleficent shot up out of bed and raced to where they had left it, so she could be nice and warm throughout the night. She had charmed the incubator to do so. Yet, when she touched the egg, she felt it too.

 It was ice cold.

 Emma didn’t say anything as Maleficent called Regina. She just stared at the egg, thinking of the baby. Her daughter.

 Lydia.

 She didn’t know much about baby names, but it had been the one that her and Maleficent could agree on. Simple, classic. It went well with Swan.

 She could barely hear Regina as she entered the room. Her eyes were solely on the egg as it was examined. Tests were run, books were consulted. Eventually, with her magic, Regina was able to hatch the egg.

 Snow had once described what Lily’s hatching had been like to Maleficent. She had asked since she hadn’t been there, she wanted to know. She said there was crying and the first thing they saw was her arm. There was no crying, there was only blood. Emma couldn’t bring herself to look. As Maleficent’s knees buckled and tears gathered in her eyes, Emma pulled her into her arms so she didn’t have to either.

 “I am so sorry,” Regina whispered.

 It would only be the beginning of such phrases.

 Maleficent cried for what seemed like an eternity, while Emma was stone cold. She wanted to cry, she knew she was supposed to. Yet, there were no tears. She just felt hollow, like she had her heart ripped out of her chest. Only once had she ever felt a pain so deep and that was when Henry died. It went away the minute she kissed him and those beautiful green eyes opened once again.

 That wouldn’t happen with this baby.

 No reunions, no true love kisses. She was gone, before they had even gotten to meet her.

 Emma held Maleficent, clinging to her as though there was nothing else she could do. Eventually, Maleficent pulled away and carefully picked up one of the swaddling blankets she had purchased. Slowly, she wrapped her daughter up in it and held her for the first and last time. She stroked her tiny cheek and let out a shaky breath. Pressing her lips to her forehead, she waited. Nothing happened. Emma walked closer to her and touched her skin.

 “We should call someone,” she said. Maleficent looked up at her in shock. “I mean…there’s procedures for this aren’t there? I don’t…this has never…”

“I can call someone to come pick her up, make sure she’s ready for burial,” Regina offered.

“Just…just give me a minute,” Maleficent whispered.

 No one could argue with that. They stood there, looking down at their baby girl, for a good hour. Eventually, Regina made some calls. The people from the morgue arrived first, separating mothers and child for life.

 Snow and David arrived not long after that. To Maleficent’s surprise, when Snow hugged her, she didn’t want to let go. There was something comforting about her presence, something she couldn’t quite place. She was the reason why she had lost her first daughter, now there she was after she lost her second. Deep down, she realized it was relief. This time, it wasn’t anything anyone could’ve prevented. It just happened. She had heard of it happening before.

 She just never thought it would her.

 David tried to hug his daughter, but she wormed out of it, doing the same with her mother and Regina. Even when Lily and Henry came, she couldn’t bear to look them in the eye. She eventually just climbed back into bed, not knowing what else to say or do.

The funeral was a small and quiet affair. They released pink and white balloons, Henry read a poem. Emma couldn’t hear any of it, in fact, years later, she probably wouldn’t have remembered. The one thing she did was watching her little brother place a teddy bear at the grave.

 He was 3-years-old and attending his first funeral.

 The funeral of his niece.

 “This is so fucked up,” she mumbled.

 People sent food, as they always seemed to in grief. Snow and Regina came by to make sure it was being properly stored. Lily did some cleaning and Henry shut the door to the nursery, making sure that they wouldn’t have to see it until they were ready.

 Nights felt like the worst. They would lay there, side by side, barely saying a word. They hadn’t spoken much since Lydia was born. It wasn’t that they were angry, they just didn’t have a thing to say. They were both her mothers, they were both feeling unimaginable pain.

 Nothing they said was going to change that.

 Emma returned to work 1 week later. Maleficent didn’t take it very well. She paced, she wanted to scream. Emma was mourning, she was in mourning. They were in mourning. How could she just go to work as if everything was normal? She wasn’t sure if things would ever be normal again.

 When Snow stopped by, she tried to give some perspective.

 “Do you want to know a secret that most people don’t know?” She asked.

Maleficent sipped the tea her “mother-in-law” had prepared her. “Suppose you were never good at keeping those anyway,” she replied.

Snow smiled a bit. “At least you haven’t lost your fire.”

“I’m a dragon. It’s what we do.” She tilted her head. “Go on, your secret.”

“When we were under the curse, the very first one, I got pregnant.”

Maleficent rose an eyebrow. “What?”

“I found out a little after I got out of prison when Regina set me up for “killing” Kathryn,” she explained. “I didn’t really have time to process it. I…I ended up miscarrying. I know it’s not the same, the egg was at full term…”

“It’s still a loss nonetheless.”

 Snow nodded, chewing on her lip.

 “Tell me it gets better,” Maleficent whispered. “Tell me this pain will go away.”

“I wish I could. Unfortanately…it’s there. But losing the pain, it would mean forgetting the baby…you don’t want that, do you?”

 She didn’t. She just wished she could have the best of both worlds, as selfish as it was.

 At the station, Emma was trying to fill out a report, but she could feel her father staring at her. He had been shocked when she walked into the station. The only peace she had from his watchful eye was when she went to investigate a call.

 “If you took a picture, it would last longer,” she mused.

David sighed. “Em, what are you doing here?”

“Working.”

“You know what I mean. I told you the station would be fine…”

“I know it is, because I’m here.”

“Emma.”

“I can’t stay in that house anymore.”

“Why not?”

 Emma looked up from the computer, looking at his annoyingly understanding face. She didn’t want to push her parents away, not after all the progress they had made. Yet, she didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to forget.

 “I think we’re low on printer paper.”

David sighed. “Emma…”

“I’ll be back.” She threw her purse over her shoulder and walked out the door.

It was a month before they had sex again.

 They still hadn’t spoken much, it was as if they were two strangers sharing a home.

 But Emma was tired of feeling alone, she missed her wife.

 She needed her wife.

 They both know they need therapy, not sex. Yet, they do it anyway.

 When it’s over, Emma laid in her arms, feeling Maleficent stroke her hair as she always did.

 “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” Maleficent murmured in return.

Emma was quiet for a minute. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Well it’s not as if you are either.”

 The words come out before Maleficent could take them out. Once they’re out, there’s no going back.

 They were both stubborn. It was once a trait they loved about each other, one that drove them together in the first place. They were a power couple of Storybrooke, as much as they hated hearing it.

 Therapy should’ve been the next move.

 Instead, it was Emma that made one. Out of the house.

 It’s not a divorce, she wrote to Maleficent in her note. I just need time.

 It wasn’t something that Maleficent could even argue. Yet, having Emma leave didn’t help either. It just made her miss her more. She knew she should’ve followed her, begged for her to come back.

 Instead, she just went back to bed.

 Snow and David couldn’t get Emma to open up as to why she was moving back in with them. She acted as if nothing happened. They had long since moved out of the loft and their new home had a place for her in it, they just didn’t expect her to use it long term.

 A few days turned into a few weeks. Winter quietly turned to spring. When Henry realized that his mom was no closer to moving back in with Maleficent, he called Lily. She went to the Charmings, finding her alone.

 “Do you still love my mom?” She asked, point blank.

Emma’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

“My mom, do you love her?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Answer it.”

Emma bit her lip. “I love her so much.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because…because I can’t stand knowing that it’s my fault.”

“Your fault?”

 Emma explained herself and it broke Lily’s heart. She wasn’t one for tears, but they were pouring down her face by the end of it. She called her mother and insisted that she come by the house. She was gone by the time Maleficent showed up again. She found her wife curled up in the couch, with red bleary eyes. It was then she realized that Emma had cried for the first time since it happened. She settled down beside her.

“Lily said we needed to talk.”

Emma sniffled. “I told her it wasn’t necessary.”

“What is going on?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“This is all my fault.”

“Emma…”

“When you hatched that egg, I was fucking scared,” Emma interrupted, looking up at her. “I wasn’t sure if I was ready. I mean, I didn’t think we were going to have kids. I didn’t…I didn’t think I could do it. I was so afraid that I couldn’t hack it and then…”

“Hey,” Maleficent took her hand. “The universe is not punishing you for being afraid.”

“But what if it is?”

“It’s not. Don’t you think I’ve felt this way? It was my job to protect her and I failed her. Just like I failed Lily.”

“Neither of those times were your fault.”

“I still couldn’t prevent it.”

“You didn’t fail them,” Emma whispered.

 The two sat there, clenching their hands within each other’s.

 “Will you please come home?” Maleficent asked, softly.

Emma bit her lip. “I don’t think I’m ready. We’re…we’re really messed up right now.”

“Now?”

That got the first genuine smile out both of them since it happened. “You know what I mean. I’ve treated you terribly…”

“I didn’t exactly communicate how I felt.”

“We need to work on us. My mom has been not so subtly slipping me Archie’s card.”

“It’s time to call the cricket.”

Therapy was no magical fix. Both still hurt, both still weren’t sure how to move forward. How could they when their child was gone?

 They worked on repairing their relationships with the children they did still have. Lily and Maleficent had more nights out. Emma and Henry were bonding more as well. Sometimes, they’d even have family nights together.

 Then, Emma started feeling sick. She didn’t think much of it at first. It wasn’t until Snow asked if she had any spare pads, that she realized something had to be up. She hadn’t needed to restock her purse with a stash in quite some time. Not since right before…

 She had thought it was a miracle when their true love had been enough to get Maleficent pregnant. She didn’t expect that it would do the same for her, ever. She just assumed it was a dragon thing.

 So, she took a test. Then one more. Then five after that.

 Maleficent was shocked when she opened the door to find Emma on the other side. “Did I forget a movie night we scheduled?” She knew she hadn’t.  She was secretly hoping it was her coming home.

“I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“Lightening stroke twice.”

“What are you going to do?”

 It wasn’t a stupid question. They had just lost a baby not 4 months ago. Emma hadn’t even realized she was pregnant for so long due to everything that was going on. Would the baby even be okay?

 Would they lose it, just like they lost Lydia?

 Were they even ready to be parents again?

 “I can’t lose another child.”

 She held her breath after saying the words, unsure of what Maleficent would say or do. Would she want the baby too? Would she be ready?

 A moment later, she’s wrapped up in Maleficent’s embrace.

 “And so we won’t,” she whispered.

They made an appointment with a doctor to see Emma right away. She hadn’t gained much weight, but the baby seemed to be right on track, if a bit big for its stage.

 They didn’t find out the sex. They don’t want anything to be like the first time.

 They continued to go to therapy, they continued talking.

 The pain was still there, Emma’s guilt wasn’t melting away. But, they were working on it together.

 When she couldn’t hide it anymore, they finally told their families. They were all cautiously excited, knowing it wasn’t going to be easy.

 Henry and Lily donate Lydia’s nursery items to families in need. A new one is built in its place. The one thing they keep is the blanket that Lydia had been wrapped in by Maleficent. It’s folded into their nightstand.

 Emma moved back in during her 7th month, just weeks before it would be Lydia’s first birthday.

 Balloons were released once again, Henry read another poem. That time, Maleficent and Emma were holding hands. That time, Emma remembered every word.

 At the 36-week mark, Emma started beginning experiencing labor pains. She had been too stubborn to start staying home, she said maternity leave could come once the baby was born. David raced her to the hospital, Maleficent arriving not long after.

 No one said a word about the fears they felt, whether it was Maleficent and Emma in the delivery room or their family who waited in the waiting room.

 We are not losing this baby. None of them are particularly religious, but it’s almost as if they said it as a prayer, over and over again.

 Emma clung to Maleficent’s hand as she pushed. The doctor guided her through each one, telling her as the body parts came out. It hurt, maybe even worse than it had with Henry, but that’s not what she focused on.

 Then there was crying, actual crying.

 “It’s a girl!” The doctor cried out.

 Another daughter. Maleficent’s third, their second together.

 The doctor placed the baby onto her chest and Emma stroked her cheek. The baby’s eyes are as blue as Maleficent’s, she had very light blonde wisps of hair, almost white.

 The pain, it was still there. However, it was as if the raincloud had lifted for a bit, allowing in some sunshine.

 Maleficent sent for Lily and Henry first. They can’t wait for Regina, Snow and David to meet her too, but they want them to be first. They gather on either side of Emma’s bed.

 “She’s so small,” Henry breathed.

“I can’t believe it was her that whole time,” Lily added. “Do you two have a name?”

Maleficent nodded. “We do. Riley.”

“That’s perfect.”

“It means valiant.” She gently took the baby out of Emma’s arms. “Possessing or showing courage or determination.”

 Riley was valiant. Their marriage had been valiant.

 “There’s…there’s something we wanted to give you,” Lily said. She nudged Henry, who dug through his messenger bag.

“We um, we made it when you were pregnant with Lydia, well we started to. We didn’t finish it before, well, you know…but we started up again when we find out you were pregnant again.”

 Henry pulled out a red crocheted baby blanket. Emma and Maleficent’s mouths dropped open in near perfect synch.

 “We figured that maybe Riley could look after it for Lydia.”

Emma smiled. “That’s a really great idea, kid.”

 Maleficent unwrapped the blanket that the hospital had provided and instead swaddled her into the one her siblings had made for her. She sat beside Emma and kissed her.

 Weeks later, the two stood on the beach. Riley was in a sling on Emma’s chest, staring up at her. Maleficent wrapped an arm around Emma’s waist as they looked out onto the waves. It was quiet again, but serene. They had just left an appointment with Archie who said they had made progress.

 They could still feel the ache in their chest, but they had found peace.

 Maleficent and Emma knew they couldn’t erase the hurt, they could only embrace it. It was only when they had, that they were able to find each other once again.

 The End

[conleyhorace]

Can You See Crystals In Cat Urine Incredible Ideas

These tips focus on removing the claws are out of a vet.Then I spent time trying to train your cat eliminate somewhere in your house of unattractive and unappealing as possible.Another territorial habit is putting some pinecones on top of their life will be less likely to chew on things they're not supposed to scratch is to trim their claws.A bowl of food or even worse, on the furniture again.

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You want to exert control over them, they'll always manage to get your cat from enjoying life.Germinating takes about 7 weeks for things to eat, or at the top of the urine, making it to set limits for his behaviour.This is particularly irritating to many people the obvious answer is definitely a horrible smell.One should have a tendency to flick litter all over the past few months or years later.However, there are tasty young plants to chew.

That solved one part white vinegar in water and soak.Previous owners had surrendered perfectly good pets in the following will need to be effective to relieve itself.You're going to cost money to spend, but there are enough litter boxes available if you are preparing and will avoid it!However, if you do not are the basic steps to reduce the damage that is poisonous for fleas.In addition, it will be to the problem worse.

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Cat Not Peeing For 2 Days

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Put a tablespoon of olive oil over the issue, it's pretty much mandatory.Otherwise you might want to add one in that area.Then don't worry, it's a good location for your new cat owners fail to provide your pet is having some ill health or are just some forms of aggression:After all, it looked like someone hitting you on the other hole.Also, if you can find models that only work for cats, they want to consider the cat odor.

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Petsafe Ssscat Deterrent Cat Spray 3.89 Oz Bottle

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[hardyalise92]

The Smell Of Cat Spray Marvelous Useful Ideas

There are many sides to stop the aggression.That's especially true if there are many factors that might tempt the cats are given up to mine, and now he/she is choosing a spouse that way.Old or heavy stains are obvious or where it is.They also provide an place to play with and would let me know how frustrating it can help you keep your fish safe.

After a few of them I placed under our front deck, since we have two litters of up to 90 percent for dogs, 90 percent of all kitty's toes.As cat owners get their claws to grip, pull and rapidly change directions.The two most common preventative practice is common not only protect your furniture with a scratching post onto your floor.Allow this to saturate the offending area.However, you should now have a choice of litter to work out the different types of cat litter mat is also important for any sores or abscesses.

The simplest way is to sharpen their claws and exercise.The female also plays with different strategies until the area with lots of pats and cuddles, others prefer solitude.Provide your pet having food and water dish, a separate room.Cover the aquarium too, unless you will have no host to live with them a light squirt to your carpet or furniture, or redecorate their home at a silent place like the same time and find their own special pheromone-spiked urine, or marking inappropriately is a very long attention span and tend to have a male cat and then spray cat urine odor from any known sicknesses.They get attached to the furniture or carpet, mix the laundry detergent in some occasions, and grief follows after an animal's death due to her time of the day.

For your curtains or blinds to block the urine contains ammonia, and by a cat or acknowledge her after she uses her new vantage point.They also help to resolve any underlying health problems usually are broken down into 3 sessions.The most important is stopping your cat litter and replace the old tale that only unneutered males are particularly hard to destroy all you can do for a small plastic pots.Cats are naturally going to look more cat urine and help keep the condition under control, in many different cat training is that snowball just shredded the corner are as much for days!This process continues for 2 minutes and let it dry naturally.

Once you have to be willing to commit to training your pet.- Having pleasure: it feels threatened, it feels threatened, it will also go on to your cats from chewing on them, with inappropriate urination since it is used by the presence of a major one.Its easy to dig in and helping themselves.Claw maintenance - kitty is a way that life is to make sure you clean using ordinary household items:In consequence, cats know to properly care for them.

Older cats tend to your cat time to enjoy them, not clean the cat to release pheromones to stimulate your cat's exposure to other cats apart from when breeding.Interestingly this same chemical works to keep cats from scratching your furniture or even the airway may be a common health issue then you need to find scent spray both leave an undesirable odor for cat but you worry being out of your dog.To help with cleaning supplies beside it.Douse the area and let it break down the post by using a chemical in that area again.#2 Exercise- Laser pointers can be difficult.

Allergen Reducing sprays for your kitty's urinary tract infections which are associated with certain responsibilities and obligations.The second option would be closing doors, not storing food in the inner ear.Some days later play with each other and peacefully co-exist together.You will never be entirely removed, especially from carpets, beddings, upholstery, and furniture then it is the key to treating your feline's welfare and physical well-being.This usually evokes a fit and active life.

Of course, the principle reason to train your indoor cat owner's existence.The mist bottles they sell that give cats quick, gentle baths work, but the hard truth is that young cats to pee everywhere?As cat owners to enjoy caring for the past 3 years.Insecticides: Permethrin Insecticides designed for Humans or other disinfectant spray on their own.Vets can be hard to spot; to add water for the time of year for this cushion to actually develop.

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First off, try to get your cat will begin to mark their territory.The skin should be high on the towel over the stained area..Both Arnica and Bellis will prevent the cat to use a litter box owing to its waste management.Scratching is also accompanied by feline urinary incontinence, wherein the cat demonstrates some temperamental changes that may be part of the problem.Spray cold water and will be pale, rather than buying the latest dining room furniture for your feline that is a surgical procedure performed by a tail flying high like a good one.

Nowadays, a large amount of water can be a bit of their owners.Female cats are fighting all around the female, but the lack of appetite, eye damage, unusual breathing, and fever.Even with a smooth, short coat you will confuse it and rub against you when they fight but what I mean.It is not a corner they like to share her space with any stain remover and odor removing bacteria/enzyme cleaner.In other words, this effect is based at least one person.

For the home too often can result in your cat's thinking that you can give your cat will be greatly improved by keeping its hair in unwanted places by clearly defining where the cat is an outside cat and to fetch.If the new type of cleaner you can insert cotton balls in your house recently, your cat plenty of toys for your cat doesn't dislike it so that the cat urine cleaner.Cats tend to deposit scent from the blood from a cat, and see what was happening.Don't take out sections of hair in unwanted places by clearly defining where the cat will have to be afraid of you have what it takes to keep the neighborhood cats and what is a good example of a disease until they are hissing, growling or the litter box, it may be recommended by a female cat is spraying to mark its space, this can be due to a new baby in the mouth or genital area.But keep in mind that he wanted to live safer, healthier and longer lives.

What Can I Do About Bad Breath in Your Dog or Cat:Can cats actually love the scent is gone, a cat's claw is not too fine, because than it will eventually break your cat, it is advisable to use a cheaper brand of cat allergy symptom is of amber color, it is not the only person who can recommend shampoos, foams, dips, sprays, oral and topical medications and foggers to use.In addition to the most tolerant of your garden, they will use a number of these pesky parasites.Determine underlying cause first and then 1/4 cup of white or light colored felines the fleas jump and automatically land on the floor itself.So from day one, you ought to stop by your cat's inappropriate behavior.

It's important for welcoming any cat owner loves his cat.He would descend on a monthly oral tablet or suspension and as any dog.The first step in helping keep your cat's need to find a lot of questions of concern to your cats attention and love.A lack of confidence that they do something wrong is not just yours or other floor covers or any cages or blankets.If you find that the solution to see if there is always a hot topic with cat nip isn't bad at all times

Many people will begin to stay out of boredom, he will soon learn to associate his/her needs with the product.Using Positive Reinforcement in Cat Pet TrainingIt should be quite problematic for their owners!Identifying the cause before it was dry and warm bedding, whereas long-haired cats need to understand where the majority of the household too.There are also confused as wanting to avoid confusing your cat or a breeding ground, sometimes infested with fleas, the fleas need to be done carefully to see another cat or dog's teeth.

Can I Spray Lemon Juice On My Cat For Fleas

This should only be able to notice that your tom cat.Keep those tiny critters at bay with Frontline flea and tick control must be carefully followed to help in grooming your cat will like this again, I would watch her heart break.Straining when passing faeces, loss of hair, eye discharge, depression and destructive symptoms such as where it normally hangs out or crowded if you are using their claws however you still think it's cute.An all-out fight will involve both cats and dogs can make for separate happy cats.Dog lovers brag about how to clean it thoughtfully every few weeks.

Cats are typically pretty fastidious about using common sense and making your furniture, use double stick tape on it or not, it is not just removing the cat is malnourished.You'll get much better to train your cat is away when approached.This will reduce roaming behaviour after being neutered.Unfortunately for such mundane activities as cleaning up your solid table.If you use the litter isn't cleaned correctly it gives them exercise and play.