#have you ever gone through that phase when you are completely hollow after continually being emotionally exploited and abused

[hermanoga]

people comparing eiden and aoba pls stop like-

ik aoba this aoba that yaoi jesus agree ok calm down

but nu carnival is that classic "came for the corn, stayed for the lore" thing. I am not kidding, eiden is one of my top favourite fictional characters ever. corn maybe the thing that lured you into the game but bro...eiden is different. if most anime/donghua viewers didn't have that "purity" bias, nu carnival lore would actually be discussed like...the way we very enthusiastically and intellectually™ discuss link click. corn is not diluting your plot if your plot is strong enough. my link click fever and nu carnival fever started simultaneously and there are reasons why I adore eiden as much as I adore cheng xiaoshi. (lmao their character design sometimes feel so similar)

Eiden's story is a nuanced social commentary, not on your face shit. He is an overworked young man who often works overtime to afford good food. He is struggling to get a satisfying permanent job, his financial hardships are so relatable. IK we can't have (lmao it's 2024) the portrayal of the life narrative of a realistic queer character who scrolls through grindr, hooks up with hot partners and struggles to have a work-private life balance in mainstream anime media so yaoi otome game it is!

(like if it were an overworked heterosexual single woman with identical issues, the feminist lens would have been enough to keep it as a convincing main plot, but a gay young man pursuing his desires no way! I won't even talk about queer women here)

idk what I initially wanted to say but overall mainstream media is very heteronormative and puts way too much premium in monogamy. I think the perks of being an aro-ace-spec is that you can feel how the allosexual essentialist culture is SO bothered by sex and it renders them insane, they almost have an allergic reaction.

y'all who moralise and do 'purifying' rituals for your queer ships - " oh no they are so pure, their they can't have sex-" fuck you. honestly. queer representation is not your weird personal aesthetic and it's problematic!

1. Fetishizing queer characters

2. Doing 'purity rituals' on queer characters

both are equally damaging and tbh queerphobic. They need to have sex to validate they are queer and their love is spiritually higher™ because they have no carnal desire - bro 😭 one thing I can say and that is you are pathetic.

Eiden's vibrant sex life is IMPORTANT to know him as a queer character. It's simply a part of him and the way he bonds with his clan members is important too. But that's simply not the entirety of nu carnival. Eiden as a character just stands out...you distinguish him as that nice fella you would strike a nice conversation and 10 minutes later he is holding you in his arms when you are bawling your eyes out and he is giving you life advice as your personal therapist because...that orphan self made man has seen the cruelties and absurdities of the world and STILL believes in empathy, still wants to fulfill someone's last wish, small or big not because he is naive but he is mature and knows a simple truth : life already throws a lot of shits upon us, let us not create more trauma for us and others.

cheng xiaoshi and eiden would be bestfriends really

same empathy level. both orphans. both struggling young men. The former is naive, the latter is mature but both know how hurting others just logically doesn't make sense. both would do those poignant little things or endanger their own lives to make people believe why against all odds, they matter, their emotions matter, the bondings they had mattered, their last wish before death mattered. this is such a simple trait but in my opinion, one of the most powerful and humane traits a protagonist can ever have.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Zalgo dealing with the 5 stages of grief

It's time to see the king of the underworld suffer <3

Denial:

His castle has always been far too large, all of those endless floors and countless rooms, it's always been spacious. However... With you gone, it's never felt bigger, never felt emptier, never felt more lifeless than it does now. He feels so hollow and empty, losing track of time, burying himself in his work just so his mind can be occupied with something, so he doesn't spend every waking moment crying and weeping over the fact that he's lost the one thing he loved most in this world. Zalgo is unaware of how much time he spends like this, but he's sure it's a long period of time.

Anger:

He's not necessarily explosive, but it's obvious to everyone that encounters him that their king is very upset. For a few months, his temper is incredibly short, his tone incredibly cruel, and his patience running thin. He hasn't been sleeping, unable to sleep without your warmth next to him, and it's taking a toll on him emotionally. He doesn't mean to be so upset, so rude, so cruel to those around him, but it's all his brain is letting him do. He spends a lot of his time isolating himself so he doesn't end up accidentally losing his temper on those around him, not wanting to cause any more pain after how your passing affected not only him but all of his employees. 

Bargaining:

Eventually, he collapses. He's been forcing himself to run the Underworld while completely exhausted for far too long, and one morning he just breaks, his body collapsing and his employees rushing to get him help. For his own sake, they intervene, encouraging him to take some time off, to rest, to get some sort of help for himself. He does end up caving, relinquishing a lot of his duties to his most trusted subordinates, taking some time away from work, and just allowing himself to finally rest. He spends most of his time finally sleeping, and when he's awake he's often thinking of you or being catered to and taken care of by his worried employees.

Depression:

Depression, for whatever reason, doesn't phase him all that much. After all, he supposes, the worst pain he's ever been through was having to watch you die before him, so the bitterness left over doesn't really bother him all that much. Although some mornings... Some mornings it's incredibly rough. Waking up, rolling over in his large bed and having nothing but emptiness beside him, none of your warmth, unable to see your bright smile, unable to hear your voice and your breathing... It rattles him, shakes him to his core, and makes him cry out for you. The mornings are the hardest for him by far.

Acceptance:

Acceptance, as with many others, is a slow process for him. Eventually, he starts getting back into a healthy work schedule, or as healthy as his work schedule can get. He starts taking better care of himself, starts spending less time feeling depressed and bitter, and suddenly life is just moving on, continuing the same way it always had. He never stops thinking about you, never stops missing you, but he's able to continue on in your stead. You were his person, his soulmate, and he's never going to try looking for something like that again, after all, he'd already had perfection with you; why try and chance it again when nothing will compare? He'll settle for being the lonely king hidden within his castle walls, buried deep in his memories of you. If anything, it brings him peace to know you're resting without pain, even if he's unable to see or hear you again, that's enough for him.

[mrslittletall]

saw your whump post, honestly the "I'm fine" screams Hornet to me, so it'd be cool to see that! - dooblebugs

Title: The Idol Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: Hornet & Little Ghost Word Count: 2.825 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30941981

Summary: After the Hollow Knight is freed from the temple, Hornet does her best to take care of the ones that are still left in Hallownest. Everything should be fine... until it isn't.

(Author's note:  @dooblebugs

I thought about using canon verse with “Almost everyone lives AU” or your Mer AU. But ultimately, canon verse won, because I still miss some context for the Mer AU. I hope you enjoy.)

Hornet opened her eyes and jumped on her feet right away. Her day would always start with hunting and gathering food, preferably before Hollow woke up and tried to move, and it was a whole other problem trying to haul a bug their size back into bed, especially when they rigorously ignored their wounds.

While Hornet trusted Quirrel and Cloth enough to leave Hollow in their care for a while, she always felt better if she could look over them personally. However, the longer she hesitated with leaving, the longer she would need to come back, so Hornet left the house in Dirtmouth they had inhabited for Hollow's recovery and went towards the crossroads.

The little pitter-patter of tiny feet next to her prompted Hornet to look down. Ghost had decided to accompany her again. They always would. She could tell them a hundred times to stay behind, they would never listen. For a vessel meant to be void of mind, Ghost was one of the bugs with the strongest will that Hornet ever had seen.

“You will still come with me, even if I say no, right, little Ghost?”, Hornet said, shouldering her needle. Ghost didn't nod or sign at her, they simply stared, with their unblinking, never changing expression. It was enough for Hornet to know that they wouldn't leave.

“Alright, but don't get into my way.”, Hornet said. At this, Ghost swung their nail and jumped in front of Hornet in a pose that depicted a challenge, then their nail went down on the ground in a strike, the swing of it breaking through the calmness of the morning.

“I know! I know! You've beaten me twice, but... I have gone easy on you.”, Hornet half hissed. It was a blatant lie and she knew it. The first time she had simply underestimated them (or she simply had become tired of fighting) and the second time... she had given it her all and they still had remained victorious. In a sense, Ghost was the new king of Hallownest, but they didn't seem to put any mind on the title. They didn't even seem to be wanting to be celebrated for being the saviour of Hallownest. They simply joined Hornet every morning for hunting and went off on their own afterwards, always coming back to play with their friends in Dirtmouth.

As the both of them jumped down the well, Hornet couldn't help but think about that there wasn't much to rule anymore. This kingdom was in shambles. It had been two weeks and the dried off infection still crusted the crossroads, too little bugs alive to care much about cleaning the place up. It was becoming more and more difficult to get food, because so many of the infected had simply been reanimated husks, without any meat left in them.

They surely would have to wander to Greenpath again, hopefully finding a few vengeflies and mosscreeps to bring home.

Hornet was used being alone. She had been alone for a very long time. She had managed. She never was lonely... well, maybe a little lonely and now there was a bunch of strangers up in Dirtmouth who relied on her. Hornet never wanted for anyone to rely on her. She had seen what happened when bugs relied on someone and... there wasn't a solution.

She looked down on Ghost again, they had their nail on the ready and stared vigilantly in front of them. They must have crossed this crossroads a dozen times on their journey, still expecting to be attacked by the infected every given minute. Hornet could understand that it was hard for them to let go of old habits.

She was the same. She never let go of her needle as well. Even with the infection never being able to come back, she had to remain vigilant. She would protect her siblings, no matter what. She wouldn't, no she couldn't, let anyone down.

“We are nearing Greenpath.”, she said, only to cut through the silence between them. She knew it wasn't Ghost's fault that they didn't have a voice, but after years of not being able to talk to anyone, Hornet barely could stand the silence, when there was someone she could talk to. “Remember, when we hunt the mosscreeps, take their leaves as well, for the herbivores.”

While Hornet was able to eat plant matter as well, it never had been satisfying to her. She was the daughter of a spider and a wyrm, both predators, and therefore she usually would hunt for food. She was unsure about what kind of diet Ghost and Hollow needed, but they seemed to be content with the prey she brought back, so she wouldn't change anything about it.

“And remember, we can't hunt too much. The population needs a chance to recover.”, she said as well. The infection had done a number on the whole of Hallownest... it wasn't a surprise that there was such a food shortage. In fact, Hornet had cut her own food intake in favour of her siblings and anyone who couldn't hunt or still needed to recover. That bug, Tiso, came to mind. Had a far too big stomach for having been utterly destroyed by the colloseum of fools. Why Ghost had dragged him back to Dirthmouth, she would never understand.

Ghost showed that they understood with a little nod of their head and the both of them entered Greenpath. It was a MUCH nicer place without the infection, but they still had to pay attention, the fool eater plants were easy to overlook (not that Hornet had ever overlooked them, but Ghost tended to forget...) and there were some predators still around, though they were no match for her needle. The problem was to avoid them to not hunt too much. Like she had said to Ghost, they needed to give the population time to recover, if they wouldn't want all to starve beforehand.

“We get only enough for everyone back in Dirtmouth.”, Hornet said again. “Then we leave again. Let's search for some mosscreeps first.”

The both of them jumped and slashed their way through the vegetation of Greenpath. While Hornet preferred to use her needle, Ghost had found a lot of new ways to move around since the first time they fought and they dashed (literally leaving their shell behind and somehow phasing through time and space) and jumped with wings that reminded Hornet of her father... and she got a bad feeling in her guts every time she saw them.

After a bit of time, they had managed to hunt two vengeflies to bring back, Hornet keeping them cocooned up for transportation and were now searching through the vegetation for some mosscreeps. Finally, Hornet found one and struck it down with her needle, preparing a cocoon for it again, when Ghost picked something up from the grass.

“Ghost, what do you have there?”, Hornet asked. The item was too small to be prey and they tended to hoard stuff they found. It probably was just something that was completely worthless nowadays, only generating Geo when given to this historian in the City of Tears. She still wanted to know.

Ghost came over and laid the thing they had picked up in her outstretched hand. When she looked down on it, she froze.

It was a King's Idol, the item that the citizens of Hallownest had crafted to worship her reclusive father. Each of them looked different, but they all shared the general shape and depicted his most salient feature: The horns that resembled a crown.

Staring down at it, something in Hornet broke. It might have been the stress she felt since Ghost had arrived. Or the fact that Hollow recovered from years of abuse from both the gods of Hallownest. Or that she was running on an empty stomach most of the time. But once she saw that thing, all her frustration crashed down on her at once.

You!”, she hissed. “It was all your fault! You knew that the plan wouldn't work! You knew that they would suffer and you still have let it happen! The teacher, the watcher, my mother, all sacrificed for nothing! And then, in the moment you were needed the most, you vanished, you damn coward! We needed you! I needed you! I hate you. I hate you and I can't even say it to your face anymore!”

Hornet threw the king's idol on the ground with so much force that it skipped on the ground and then fell on her knees, slowly getting aware of the tears on her face and the presence of little ice cold hands patting her arm.

“I am fine.”, she said, wiping the tears away. Just a moment of weakness, nothing else. Even though she could feel the judgemental stare of Ghost, she was fine. She had to be. “Seriously, I am fine.”, she continued once more. “Let's continue hunting.”

As Hornet was putting her composure back together, she didn't notice how Ghost continued to stare at her, picking up the idol from the ground, and only starting to move again once she called out for them.

The hunt had been more or less successful. At least they had found enough prey that nobody should go terribly hungry (at least when Hornet halved her own portion again). As usual, hunting had taken the better part of the day. Hornet would have liked to go hunt at some different locations, but the Old Stag from the stag ways wasn't around lately, apparently he was taking care of some personal business. With him not being around, it was just too far to walk to the Fungal Wastes or Deepnest, at least not when she wanted to come back the same day.

Currently Hornet took in her meal in Hollow's room with Ghost present as well. She was busy thinking about if there was another route that would make sure she could hunt elsewhere but Greenpath for once, when she felt a nudge. When she looked down, she saw how Ghost offered them a half of their mosscreep, holding the prey up in their little hands, seemingly eagerly awaiting for her to take it.

“I can't take this, Ghost.”, Hornet said. “You need all the food you can get, you are still growing.”

Ghost cocked their head and for once their eternal deadpan expression was on point. Hornet knew how ridiculous her argument was. Ghost had been born before her. They hadn't grown in years. Their body had been unable to grow because they didn't had access to void. “You know what I mean.”, she defended herself. There was the possibility that Ghost would start to grow as long as they stayed in Hallownest.

Ghost offered their meal a little while longer and then gave up with a little frustrated stomp of their foot. It was then when Hornet felt another nudge... this time it was Hollow, who had simply watched the scene unfold in front of them, offering their part of their meal.

“Oh no, not you too, Hollow.”, Hornet sighed. “You need the food much more than me, you are still recovering. I won't accept anything from you.”

The both vessels shared a look and once again Hornet asked herself if they could talk to each with some kind of void telepathy, before both of them looked at the ground in defeat.

“I am fine.”, Hornet repeated herself, she knew that. “Really, I am fine...”

Hornet awoke the next morning... not because her stomach cramped and she had trouble sleeping because of it, but because someone nudged her. She cracked one eye open and murmured: “It's barely morning...” She just craved to go back to sleep, to forget about the day in front of her for a few minutes longer, but the nudging got more and more intense, until she shouted: “Fine! I am getting up! Stop bothering me!”

It was Ghost in front of her and immediately Hornet stopped being annoyed. What if something had happened? “Is something the matter with Hollow? Or is a threat approaching the village?”, she asked, already fumbling for her needle, once again forgetting that Ghost was more than capable of defending the village themselves. They just looked too much like a little, defenseless child, even though Hornet had experienced otherwise.

Gladly, Ghost shook their head, though this put Hornet right back into annoyance. “Then why have you woken me up?”, she said, falling back down in her pillows, ignoring the urge to close her eyes and looking at Ghost again, making sure to give them a judgemental stare.

Ghost did grip something under their cloak (wings? Hornet never knew what this thing around the vessels was) and after a bit of struggling, they produced a jar... a jar filled with honey. The smell actually made Hornet's mouth water. Honey was one of the few things she liked to eat that wasn't meat, mostly because she had trained in the Hive in her youth.

Though, as lucky as she felt about having more food, she couldn't help but scold Ghost. “Ghost, did you get this on your own? The Hive is dangerous, even without the infection! What if the Hive Knight would have found you?”

Ghost shook their head and then outstretched their hand, showing Hornet a shiny little charm. A charm she remembered. The charm of the Hive. “Wait, you have been there and challenged him already?” Hornet wanted to be surprised, but Ghost couldn't really surprise her anymore. When they could surprise her somehow, then it was that they were full of surprises.

“Anyway... I guess I have to thank you, though I don't approve that you sneak out at night into the Hive.”, Hornet murmured. “At least we have more food for the group now..”

Ghost rigorously shook their head and pressed the jar in her hands. “For me?”, Hornet asked and Ghost nodded.

“But... Ghost, I appreciate it, but I don't need.. the others need the food much more than...”

Another shook of their head and a stomp of their foot along with crossed arms and a slight turn around. Hornet suddenly felt very small, she had never seen them that upset.

“Alright, alright...”, she said. “Maybe I have eaten insufficient lately...”

Ghost nodded again and gave the jar of honey another press, so that she had to hold it firmly in her hands.

“Alright alright...”, Hornet finally gave in. “I will take your offer, Ghost.”

As she opened the jar, her hunger became more and more apparent and soon she dug in and had finished the whole jar in what felt like no time and finally, for once, she didn't feel overly hungry. Satisfied even.

She then saw Ghost holding up something. A little rock with a few letters written on it. Lately Cornifer had given them writing lessons, though it still was a work in progress.

“Fine?”

That was the word they had painted on the rock (where did they even have the colours from?).

“I am fine.”, Hornet said. “This time for real. I am sorry, Ghost, I shouldn't have lied to you. I just feel so... responsible for everyone. I can't show weakness in front of anyone.”

Ghost shook their head again and then got something out. Hornet recognized it as the King's Idol they had found in Greenpath. They tossed it at the ground, just as she had done and then hit it with their nail, leaving a notable crack in it.

“You as well don't have the best memories of him, right?”, Hornet said. Both of them had been left behind, though in a different kind of way. Ghost had been discarded and Hornet had been left with responsibility far too huge for her age.

Ghost nodded again and gave the King's Idol another smack, so that it landed in front of her. Hornet took it into her hands and stared at it. She did miss him, that she had to admit to herself, but she also knew that her anger and her disappointment were real and there was no reason to hide it in front of Ghost.

She squeezed the Idol until it cracked into two pieces and just watched as they fell down. “Thank you, Ghost.”, she said. “But make sure to not tell Hollow about this.”

The way Hollow idealized their father... it would break their heart seeing his image being defiled like that.

Another quick nod and then Ghost actually got another one out, their face clearly saying: “Wanna break another?”

A grin crept over Hornet's face. She would never get her mother back or escape her responsibilities, but at least she could vent out her frustrations, even though it took her sibling for her to realize.

“Oh you bet I want.” (Author's note: Little Ghost is kinda fun to write. I think they are a character mostly showing what they feel through body language and it was fun to come up with how they would act. I also like to think that they can stare very judgemental, even though their expression never changes, a stare of them can make anyone falter. Hornet's relationship to PK is... complicated. He hasn't actually been a bad father to her, but as the infection came back and depression took over, he left her alone more and more and she got angry about it... especially when he decided to just vanish. She felt utterly betrayed by it and it is a huge source of her frustration and anger. I put in some little references to the game in there, try to find them if you please.)

[p-artsypants]

Integrity (Part 2)

Integrity is the practice of being honest and showing a consistent and uncompromising adherence to strong moral and ethical principles and values. In ethics, integrity is regarded as the honesty and truthfulness or accuracy of one's actions. - Overwhelmed with her responsibilities, guilt, and drama, Marinette has an emotional breakdown in front of everyone, and even hands over her earrings in a moment of weakness. Only for a few seconds, but the damage was done. Adrien’s pretty quick on the uptake like that.

Ao3 | FF.net

It was now 11pm. Adrien and Plagg both laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

That was...a lot.

“Your father...” began Plagg.

“Yeah.”

“...is Hawkmoth.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not...that surprising.”

“Yeah.”

They continued to lay there, silently accepting all they had seen.

“And Marinette is Ladybug.”

“Yeah.”

“Crazy day.”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“I’ve never seen him cry before.” Said Plagg.

“I’ve only seen it once before. I had assumed he cried when mom disappeared, but he never did in front of me.”

“It was...kind of reassuring.”

“Yeah.”

“And your mom is still...”

“Yeah.”

Gabriel had said a lot down in his secret garden. How sorry he was, how guilty he felt, how he knew he had gone too far, the times he almost quit, even though he was so close.

Adrien hadn’t been able to say a thing.

His mother was right there, but Gabriel had hid her, because he didn’t know how to explain to his son what he had done.

“You know,” said Plagg. “I get why he thought get my and Tikki’s miraculous would help. But it’s really a last resort thing. There’s other ways to treat a magical coma.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Emotionally drained, and just...seeing my mothers face...”

“I get it.” Said the Kwami, nuzzling up to his face. “We’ll figure it out.” Plagg afforded him a few more minutes of quiet contemplation before asking, “Are you going to help him?”

“Yeah.” Adrien said absent-mindedly. Then clarified, “obviously not the way he asked me to.”

Gabriel had explained the situation. That he needed the Ladybug and Black Chat Miraculous to bring Emilie out of her coma. He had been using Lila and Chloe as triggers to set emotional teenagers off, but with Lila out of the picture, he needed someone else to fill that roll.

Adrien had asked, in the calmest voice he could muster if Lila knew he was Hawkmoth.

Gabriel had clarified that no, only Nathalie knew. And now, now that he was standing up for himself and proved himself trustworthy, he was being let in on the secret.

He had the brain power to thank his father, but it sounded pretty hollow to his own ears.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to say anything else. His father just kept talking. The truth spilled out of him like a fountain, like he was relieved to finally confess all of these terrible things he had done.

Adrien imagined that when he finally came face to face with Hawkmoth (again) he’d punch the man in the face, and then when he was defeated, he and Ladybug would scream it from the rooftops. Then he and Ladybug would share a deep kiss as Hawkmoth was loaded into the squad car.

He never imagined his father in that scenario.

But, hauntingly enough, the reveal wasn’t as agonizing as it probably should have been. He hadn’t even cried. He shed a few tears at his mother’s face, but that was a given. With his father, it was just shock. And a little frustration and guilt directed at himself. How had he not known sooner?

“Shouldn’t we tell Marinette?” Asked Plagg, breaking that self-deprecating spiral before it began.

“Yeah...we probably should. But I...don’t know if I can. I haven’t even told her my identity.”

“You don’t expect to fight him on your own?”

“No. I really don’t want to fight my father. Not after he was so...vulnerable. And he trusted me.”

“Trust means little when you’re a terrorist, Adrien.”

“Maybe...but it means a lot to me...”  

“Okay.” Plagg patted his cheek. “What’s ideal in this situation? Not realistic, ideal.”

“We...get my father to hand over his miraculous, I take it to Marinette, and together we find a way to wake up my mother...and then I don’t loose either of my parents.”

“You know your father isn’t going to hand it over. Even if you tell him who you are. And I can’t recommend enough for you NOT to do that.”

“No, no I won’t do that. That’s too risky. I saw how desperate he was.”

“So what do we do? We can’t wait.”

“No, we can’t. But...since we know where he lives, we know where he sleeps.”

“What? You’re going to take it while he’s sleeping?”

“Nope.” Adrien turned to smile at him. “You are.”

“Me?!”

“There’s not any code against Kwami’s taking another’s miraculous, is there?”

“I mean, it’s rude. But if it’s for the Kwami’s own good...” he put a paw to his face. “I’ll do it. Nooroo is hurting with your father.”

“I think the peacock is here too. It might be in the safe.”

“Oh!!” Plagg cried.

“What?”

“I saw it! Adrien! When we broke into your dad’s safe! There was a peacock brooch in there in disguise and I didn’t even think about it!!”

Adrien groaned. “Damn, Ladybug even guessed that my father was Hawkmoth all that time ago!”

“He akumatized himself though. He threw you off.”

Adrien finally sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re right. We have to be smart about this. If his miraculous goes missing the morning after he told me, I’m suspect number one.”

“So how do you want to pull the greatest heist of the century?”

“Go take the peacock first, and then get the moth. I will run the shower and hide in the bathroom. As soon as you have them, we’ll transform and go to Marinette. That way, if he wakes up at any point and comes looking for answers, I’ll have an alibi.”

“Not a strong one, but it’ll work.”

“It has to work. Then, I’ll pack my fencing duffel and disappear for a few days. Until Ladybug and Chat Noir can talk to him.”

“Yeah, that’s not suspicious.”

“I’ll leave a note, that lets him know everything is going to be okay, I just need a little time to process everything.”

“I have a feeling he’s not going to take well to that.”

Adrien wiped his hands down his face. “I mean, we could consult Ladybug first if you think that’s better!”

“Nah, I think she’ll appreciate you acting quickly and discreetly.”

Adrien looked at the clock. “Okay. I’m not sure what time he goes to bed. But I’ll pack up my bag now. Can you spy on him?”

“I’ll be the most serious I’ve ever been in my entire existence.”

“Watch out for Nooroo too. He might alert my father.”

Plagg gave him a considerate look. “Something tells me he won’t.”

So Adrien gathered his belongings. A few days worth of clothes, toiletries, and a few possessions he couldn’t leave behind if things went south, including his passport and birth certificate. After a moment of consideration, he shoveled Plagg’s cheese stash into a garbage bag.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?!”

He tossed the cheese bag into his duffel. “It’s suspicious.”

“What? You think he’s going to rifle through your room?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Then he scrounged around and found a little gift box. It would hold both Miraculous perfectly.

At midnight, Plagg went out for the first Miraculous. He returned only a few minutes later, empty handed. “Your father was still down in the basement. I’m going to go back down and watch for when he comes back upstairs. You should try to get a little sleep. I’ll wake you when I have the peacock.”

Adrien nodded, but didn’t think he could actually sleep. He was completely exhausted after this whirlwind of a day. He now knew the two biggest secrets in all of Paris. If he wasn’t Chat Noir, it may have been enough to turn him on his head.

But as it stood, he was Chat Noir, and he had a job to do.

Time stretched on, and the longer he waited there, in the dark, the longer he worried. What if Plagg was caught? Of course he could phase through anything, and he was smart enough not to lead back to him. But then his father would immediately be on edge.

The house was silent. In the huge halls and thick walls, it was impossible to hear what was going on. The door could open at any moment.

There was a creak, and Adrien held his breath.

“One down.” Plagg whispered.

Adrien exhaled, despite his heart pounding. Now is when the risk was greatest. Now he could be caught with stolen goods.

“Is my father asleep?”

“Looks like it.”

Adrien nodded, and took the peacock brooch. He put it in the box, and took it, and his duffel bag, with him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

He set the box on the counter, and then went over and opened the window.

“Take it when you feel it’s safe.”

“Roger that.” Plagg gave a serious nod, before disappearing into the house.

Adrien turned on the water, and then took a seat on the toilet.

And waited.

It would be okay. Everything would work out fine. His father hadn’t figured him out as Chat Noir yet, and he even confessed that he greatly trusted Adrien. So...his father would be asleep. Not guarded, not paranoid. Just sleeping.

Minutes dragged on, as all he could do was sit there and catastrophize.

“I got it.” Plagg announced, appearing silently.

Adrien jumped at the sound. But lost his voice at the sight of the butterfly pin in Plagg’s paws.

“It went smoothly?”

“Nooroo saw me.”

Adrien shut his eyes in defeat.

“He didn’t say anything. He actually smiled at me and pointed at the pin. He wanted me to take it.”

Adrien sighed in relief. “Then we did it.”

“Almost. We have to get these in the Miracle Box.”

“Right! Plagg, Claws Out!”

—

The first stop was the school. He had to drop off his overnight bag. A part of him wondered if it would have been alright just to take his bag with him in the morning, since it was his fencing bag, but there was always the risk that Gabriel would stop him and search through it in the morning. He couldn’t risk anything.

Normally, when he was this high strung, he would savor the rush of the wind, and the secrets of the night.

But not tonight. It was far too dangerous to leave for long.

He landed on the roof of the school, and climbed down to the courtyard. Thankfully, the locker room was open, and he was able to quickly stuff his bag in his locker. The school looked different at night. Eerie, quiet, and too dark for someone without night vision to walk through. He stayed only long enough to stash his bag, before leaving again. He couldn’t worry about security cameras.

And thankfully, Marinette lived right next to the school.

He landed on her balcony, not really caring if his fall woke her up.

Peering in her window, he saw her curled up, sleeping peacefully. He had half a mind to just leave the box and let her sleep.

But no, this was too important. He had to make sure she received it.

He knocked his knuckles against the glass.

She stirred.

He knocked again.

She turned her face towards him, and he could see her squinting at him. And then her clock.

Finally, she stood and opened the hatch. “Chat Noir? What’s wrong? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Far too late to be making house calls to pretty girls,” he joked, but it lacked luster. “But I got you a present.”

“At 2 in the morning?”

“It can’t wait. Sorry. But I think you’ll really like it.” He handed over the box. “Don’t wait to open it. But I can’t stick around. I trust you more than anyone in the whole world. I know you’ll know what to do with them.”

“What are you talking about Chat? You’re acting really weird.”

“I know, I’m sorry. We’ll talk later, okay? I just—I got to go.”

Perhaps he was seeking comfort, or maybe he was just hopped up on adrenaline, but he swooped down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. Then without anything else, he fled.

—

Chat Noir dropped into his bathroom, the shower still running, the door still closed. He had left soft music on too, just in case someone called to him and he couldn’t answer.

He dropped his transformation, and undressed. It wouldn’t do to come out of a hour long shower with dry hair.

He showered quickly. Just enough to be convincing. Then put on his pajamas, and left the room.

Sitting on his bed, cloaked in the shadows, was his father.

Though Adrien prepared for it, it still startled him. “Oh!”

“Have a nice shower? At 2 in the morning?”

Adrien gulped. “I was...I couldn’t sleep. I thought a shower would help.”

“And did it? Are you all calm and relaxed?”

No. “Yes?”

“Good.” Gabriel stood, and in a few quick steps, loomed over his son. “Where is it?”

“Wh-what?”

Gabriel grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upwards, forcing him up on his toes. “Don’t play dumb with me! I know you took it!”

“I didn’t—I don’t—!”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m sorry!” Adrien burst, honest to god tears spilling over his cheeks. “I didn’t think you’d mind...”

“I wouldn’t mind?!” Gabriel screamed. “Are you stupid or something?!” He let go of Adrien who stumbled back. “Get it for me. Now!”

Adrien scrambled over to his TV and grabbed a DVD. The one his mother had starred in, Solitude. “Here...you were just so busy...I didn’t think...”

Gabriel stared at the case, wide-eyed. “Adrien...”

“Next time, I’ll ask. I promise.”

Gabriel sighed, dropping the case onto the bed. “This wasn’t what was missing. You were fine to borrow this without asking.”

“Oh?” Adrien wiped his face. “Then, what’s missing?”

“My miraculous.” He jutted out his jaw, and lowered his gaze.

Adrien resisted the urge to smile. It seemed he was a better actor than he thought. “Your...Miraculous is missing? But...did you check by your bed? Maybe it fell off your nightstand? Or wherever you put it when you sleep?”

“I wear it to bed.”

“Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“I’m used to it now. I have to wear it. I’ll wake up if I feel a strong enough emotion.”

Adrien ran over the information his father had given him earlier. He couldn’t let on that he knew any information about the Miraculous, but he did have the Ladyblog as a source if he slipped up.

“What about the little moth thing? The...karmi?”

“Kwami.” Gabriel clarified, “and his name is Nooroo. I’ve ordered him to obey...but it could very be likely he took it from me. At least, that’s the most likely scenario.” He frowned a little harder. “It couldn’t have been Nathalie…?”

“Do you want me to help you look for it?”

“No.” Gabriel sighed, patting his shoulder. “I’ve already caused you to lose sleep. You have school in the morning.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Thank you, Adrien, I knew I could trust you.” And with a solemn nod, he left him alone.

Adrien sank to the bed, exhausted.

A solid alibi, great deflection, and even offering to help. It looked like he was in the clear. But that would only last so long.

“That was terrifying.” Said Plagg, sitting next to him.

“You’re telling me.”

“You technically didn’t lie either. You didn’t take it.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’d feel guilty about it.” He looked to the door. “That Miraculous, or the power of having it, has changed him so much. He used to laugh, Plagg. He told puns and we joked and had fun. He was still always cutthroat and serious in the fashion world, but when he came home...” he rubbed at his eye. “He never yelled at me like that.”

“So those tears aren’t faked?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’ve never been more scared in my life. I thought he...I thought he might actually kill me.”

“But he didn’t. You’ve got a bag packed, and once we figure out how to help your mom, we’ll be back and put everything right.”

“Yeah. Okay.” With a slow exhale, Adrien rose from the bed and made his way over to his desk.

Dear father,

After all the information I learned last night, and your treatment of me afterwards, I have decided that I need to leave for a while. I just need to process this, and I can’t at home. I will be staying with a trustworthy friend, and I will continue to go to school. I won’t have my phone on me. If you need to get in touch with me, you can meet me at the school, where there are witnesses.

I’m really sorry. I’m just a little scared right now.

Love,

Adrien.

He put the note in his wallet, making sure to remember to leave it somewhere his father would see tomorrow.

He was so tired. So exhausted. His head throbbed, and his legs hurt from being so tense.

He took out some Ibuprofen from his nightstand, shook out two pills, and swallowed them with a sip of water.

The water was cold, but he didn’t remember getting it. Must have been after the reveal. He had been in so much shock.

“Adrien?” Plagg asked.

“Hmm?”

“Tikki’s here. Are you okay if I leave for a while?”

“Yeah. No threats of Akuma anymore.” Adrien spoke drowsily. “Go and tell Nooroo I said hello.”

Plagg smiled him. “Get some sleep, kid.”

—

Marinette stared at the spot on the railing that Chat had jumped off of long after he left.

He was acting really really weird.

“Well?” Asked Tikki. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“I guess...but...” She worried her bottom lip. “It’s probably okay, right? Nothing suspicious about giving a random female civilian a gift at 2am.”

“Just open it already!” Tikki cried, impatient.

Marinette giggled at her. “Alright alright.” She pulled the tabs, and popped the top flap.

In a blindingly bright flash of light, two small figures appeared.

Marinette almost dropped the box.

Tikki floated closer. “Nooroo? Dusuu? Is it really...”

“Tikki!” They both cried, zipping to her and embracing her.

“I don’t understand...” Marinette breathed. Then, she glanced down into the box that rattled in her hand. Two brooches, a peacock and a butterfly, rested inside.

“How did he...where did he...?”

“Oh!” Cried Nooroo, flying into her face with the biggest smile imaginable. “You’re Adrien’s friend! The cute one! You’ll watch over him, won’t you?”

Despite the overload that was happening right now, Marinette was quick to put the pieces together.

“If you care about Adrien...so that means...Gabriel really was...?”

Nooroo nodded, much more sadly this time.

“How did Chat figure this out? How did he get you? Did he go up against Hawkmoth alone?!”

“No. Plagg came and got me while Gabriel was sleeping.” His eyes widened. “I can say his name!”

“The bond must be broken then!” Exclaimed Tikki. “You’re free from his control!”

“Oh thank you!” Nooroo cried nuzzling into her face.

“You’re welcome?” Marinette returned, holding the Kwami. Though she was unsure what she had to do with this at all. “How did Chat or Plagg find you?”

Nooroo shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t get to talk to him. I went into the brooch when he took it off of Gabriel.”

“I’m just...I’m so confused. I have no idea how...and why me? Why Marinette? He couldn’t possibly know who I am!”

“He did say you’d talk later.” Tikki reminded, helpfully.

“And another thing! Where did he have to run off to so quickly? He practically shoved this into my arms!”

“I guess you could stay up all night speculating, or you could go to bed and get answers tomorrow.”

She growled. “Hold on. I just—Spots on!”

As soon as the transformation completed, she had her yo-yo out and called him.

The call didn’t connect.

Nor did the five others she tried.

Her tracker clearly showed he wasn’t transformed, so what was the point?

“Spots off.” She grumbled.

“Any luck?”

“No. I have no idea what’s going on! He’s not transformed, or else I could go to him. What if he’s in danger? What if—?”

“Marinette. You are way too paranoid for your own good. You have both of the Miraculous here. So he can’t be in too much danger.”

Marinette gave Tikki a half-hearted glare. “Yeah...I guess...” Then she looked to Nooroo and Dusuu. “Would you like to go back in the Miracle Box?”

They both got really excited at that. “Yes! Yes please!”

“I know!” Sang Tikki. “I’ll grab some snacks and join you in a little bit! I can leave now that there’s no threat of akumas!”

No more akumas.

It had only been a year or so. But the idea of never having to fight an Akuma again was so foreign.

There were still criminals in Paris. She wouldn’t have to give up being a hero. But, things would be easier now.

She could take a vacation!

“Earth to Marinette!” Tikki chirped.

“Oh! Right, sorry. Just...processing some things.” She got out of bed, and lifted her mattress to reveal the hidden cubby where she had stashed the Miracle Box. She placed the brooches in their compartments, making the two kwami’s vanish from her room.

“You okay if I join them?”

“Yeah. If you wanted to go find Plagg and invite him too, you can. And if you wouldn’t mind checking in on Chat?”

“I think Plagg would love to celebrate with us. I’ll go find him.”

With Tikki checking in on the situation, Marinette started to relax.

She snuggled in her blankets, replaying that kiss with Adrien again. It was her go-to comfort place. His hands warm on her shoulders, his lips pressed so gently against hers.

He had said it wasn’t a celebrity thing, but...how many times had Ladybug interacted with Adrien? Enough to constitute for even a friendship?

She knew Adrien liked Marinette. Not ‘like like’ but he sought out her company, and asked her for advice. He had snuggled against her on the train, and held her close when they slow danced. She did believe that his feelings had grown stronger when he found out who she was.

But how strong those feelings were in the first place, she didn’t know.

She didn’t understand. How could he love Ladybug so much that he hesitated dating a girl who was right in front of him, and who liked him back?

This warranted more talking. She just hoped that she wouldn’t ruin her own chances.

“We’re back!” Tikki chirped, phasing through the window.

Plagg was with her. “Sweet victory, huh?”

“Somehow, I thought defeating Hawkmoth would be a lot less...underwhelming.”

“Things aren’t over yet.” Plagg said seriously. “The kid has a pretty huge favor to ask. A couple, actually. But he wants you to relax for now.”

“How did he find out? How did all of this happen?”

Plagg grinned. “Turns out I’m great at espionage!”

She smiled. “Well, Nooroo told me that much. But how did you and Chat figure out who he was?”

“Long story. I don’t have the attention span. He’ll tell you later. Now, Tikki promised me some cheese quiche?”

Marinette sighed to herself. It looked like she really wasn’t getting any information tonight. “Help yourselves. She knows where the leftovers are.”

Tikki nuzzled her forehead. “Why don’t you go to sleep? Regardless of the Hawkmoth drama, you had a really stressful day.”

“Thanks Tikki.” She took one last look at Plagg. “I take it, that you being here, means that Chat’s safe? He’s okay?”

“Yeah, he was just about to go to bed.”

“Why did he rush off?”

“He had a feeling someone was going to check on him.”

“Oh. Okay. As long as he’s alright...”

“Bug. Go to sleep.”

—

This chapter is a lot shorter than the last, but it felt like a good stopping point. I’m going on vacation next week, so this won’t update for a little while. I’ll probably update ‘Longest Night’ first. But thank you all for the comments, likes, kudos, and favorites! I love you!

@redheadeddemon16 I think you wanted me to tag you?

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

This Night

Summary: After the Winchesters rescue her from the clutches of some no name demon, she has trouble facing the dark alone. Dean decides to try and help her take her mind off the memories that haunt her dreams. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 5.7K+

Warnings: Language, descriptions of torture, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, post traumatic stress, angst all around

Square Filled: Road Trip

Author’s Note: Written for @spngenrebingo . This fic was inspired by Luke Bryan’s “I Don’t Want This Night To End”, it doesn’t have exactly the same feeling but it gave me the idea so...I love comforting Dean with all my soul. Also, not sorry about the another plus size reader but I can never find any when I look so this is my furthered contribution to the collection of them. xo Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The tip of the angel blade poked between the buttons of her blouse and with a small flick of the demon’s wrist, it popped the seam holding them in place. Her blouse fell open further revealing her chest to the demon.

“You know, I never quite understood why the Winchester ever kept you around.” He seethed, running the blade over the swell of her left breast and breaking the skin. Warm blood trickled down her abdomen. At this point, her body had become almost numb to the pain he was inflicting on her. This had nothing on the punches to her jaw or the kicks to her ribs. Each breath she took felt like someone was shoving a hot poker in her chest. It didn’t even compare to the other cuts that littered her body between her fingers, on her neck, face and body. The one across her stomach would still trickle blood if she moved too quickly.

“You’re not a good hunter. And they certainly don’t keep you around to look at.” He gestured non committedly at her plump figure that hung from the shackles raising her arms above her head. The chains were holding up most of her weight, only her toes had contact with the ground. 

“Fuck you.” She spit down at his feet, the blood mixed with her saliva splashing against the dirty concrete. Her words were weaker than she was hoping, her body too far into survival mode to care about talking. 

“Oh, hit a nerve there on that one didn’t I, princess? So who is it? Which one are you holding a torch for?” The demon stepped up close to her, their chest nearly touching as he searched her face. The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to read her expression. “Maybe it’s Sammy boy and those freakishly long legs?” He paused to gauge her reaction before continuing. “Or maybe it’s the brooding and pensive martyr, Dean-o?” 

She couldn’t help the way her eye averted from the demon, giving her away completely. “Ah, it is Dean. Should’ve guessed it sooner I suppose. Girls like you always want what they can never have.” She cried out when he gripped a chunk of her hair and forced her head back to open up her neck to him. He sniffed against her sweat and blood soaked skin before nuzzling his nose against her pulse. A grimace crossed her face as a chill ran up her spine. 

“You’ve seen the sluts that Dean takes home from the bars and fucks in seedy motel after seedy motel. How could you ever think he would even look twice at you?” The demon’s voice was barely above a whisper as he poked the tip of the angel blade into the hollow of her cheek. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes to prepare herself.

“So why waste your time protecting those idiots. Tell me where they are and what they are up to and I’ll let you waltz right out that door.” It was a tempting offer, but she doubted that the demon would hold up his end of the bargain. No, she would die protecting the Winchesters. After all, it was like he had said, she had nothing else to offer them except to maybe give them a little more time to finish the trials. That would be her gift to the men that she called family. The two idiots that she loved. 

“Yeah right, I do that and you kill me anyway. I’ll bid the Winchesters some time so your ass rots in Hell forever.” It took everything in her to muster up the false bravado now on display for this no name demon. 

“Have it your way.” He growled before swiping the blade across her cheekbone. The sound of her shrieks reverberated off the solid walls. 

 Y/n sat up straight in her bed, her chest heaving with every breath and her sweat soaked pajamas clinging to her clammy skin. It took her a second to take in her surroundings and determine she was still in her bedroom of the bunker and not back in the hands of that demon. She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths to calm her racing heart. 

Why she thought tonight would be any different from the rest, she wasn’t exactly sure. The same nightmare had plagued her every night since she had been saved by the Winchesters, and every night she woke up in a cold sweat. This time she could only hope that her body was exhausted enough that she wouldn’t dream at all. She had been wrong. 

Climbing out of her bed, she stripped herself of her soaked pajamas and grabbed her robe and a change of clothes. The bunker was quiet as she made her way to the showers. Sam and Dean had gone to bed before she had and even though she didn’t check her phone, she was sure that it was still the middle of the night. 

She started one of the showers, turning the water as hot as she could stand it and stepped under the spray. The steam in the air and the heat of the water against her skin helped to relax her tense muscles. She took her time in washing away the sweat from her skin but didn’t bother with her hair this time. When the water began to run cold, she decided it was time to get out. Grabbing a clean towel, she patted her body dry before wrapping it around her torso. She padded over to the sinks and wiped away the steam from the mirror. Her hair was tossed over one shoulder as she leaned forward to inspect her face. The large scar on her cheek was still an angry red color. Being a hunter, scars weren't anything new, but this one was refusing to fade and only served as a constant reminder of those few days she was held captive. The demon’s words were still fresh in her mind as if he was still standing next to her and whispering them in her ear. 

“How could you even think he would ever look twice at you?”

~

Dean appeared almost instantly at the rear door, pulling it open as it squeaked in protest. He held out his hand for her but she resisted. Instead she opted to drag herself out of the impala. The frown on his face at her refusal didn’t go unnoticed by the hunter. 

“Dean, I’m fine.” She got out through her gritted teeth as she tried to hide the grimace on her face. She used the door to haul herself to her feet, but even she wasn’t strong enough to hide the whimper that fell from her mouth as she tried to stand up straight. 

“Oh, yeah, you’re perfect.” He mocked. “Please quit being stubborn and let us help you to your room.” Y/n bit the inside of her cheek as she contemplated his offer. On the one hand she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep for a few days. On the other, every fiber in her being was trying to pull away from both the Winchesters. It was irrational, she knew that, because deep down she trusted these men more than anything, but the words of the demon were still too fresh in her mind. That was kind of the whole point though, was to sow the seeds of doubt in her mind. She just hated how well it had worked. 

Y/n nodded, her movement slight as she threw her arm over Dean’s shoulder so he could help her inside. Careful not to put too much of her weight on him, she let him guide her to her room. It was easier for her to move with his help, though she wouldn’t admit it. 

“Sammy, can you grab the first aid kit from the infirmary?” Dean looked over his shoulder at his little brother, who nodded and headed the opposite way without a word. Dean helped her sit down on the edge of her bed, his jaw ticking as he noticed her flinch again. 

Y/n kicked off her shoes, letting them fall wherever in her room as she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to pull the kinks from her still stiff muscles. Her head perked up as she heard Sam coming back down the hall. She watched as he handed the kit off to Dean, who nodded ever so slightly before closing the door behind Sam as he once again retreated. Her eyebrows scrunched as Dean turned back around.

“Take your shirt off, kid.” Dean indicated as he set the kit on the bed next to her. 

“Excuse me?” His words had caught her off guard and she blinked her eyes as she tried to focus herself. 

“Come on, your shirt is stained in blood. I know you are covered in cuts, just let me stitch you up.” Dean didn’t even look at her as he began taking items out of the kit. Alcohol, gauze, thread and a needle. All of it screaming at her as his words sunk in. 

“I’ve stiched myself up before, I’ve got this.” She tried waving him off and reached for the alcohol. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, halting her movements.

“Damn it Y/n, stop being so stubborn. You can barely move. I’m doing this, end of story.” His tone left her no room for argument. Normally, Dean didn’t phase her, she wasn’t one to back down from him. But now, she would do anything to keep him from raising his voice more than he already had. She knew that there was no way he could know what his words would do to her, so she couldn’t blame him for just being Dean.

“Fine.” Her voice was barely audible as her shaky fingers undid the last few buttons the demon hadn’t popped on her blouse. She pulled the ruined material from her body, pieces of the fabric sticking to her injuries where the blood had begun to dry. Now, in just her flimsy bra, whose material left little to the imagination, she felt more exposed than ever. 

As she finished taking off the offending fabric, Dean grabbed a towel from the kit and wet it down in the sink that sat in her room. He squatted down in front of her, dabbing the cool towel against the wound on her breast. She flinched from his touch, her body going rigid. His gaze was set on his task as heat crept up her cheeks and she was thankful that he was refusing to make eye contact with her. 

In all the times she pictured Dean getting her out of her shirt, this certainly was not one of them. Right now, she felt nothing but shame. Shame at the rolls that sat on her abdomen, shame at bruises forming under her ribs and the second gash on her flabby stomach. But mostly, shame that she ever let a demon get the jump on her in the first place. She was a poor excuse for a hunter, and now the Winchesters felt like they had to nurse her back to health. 

Dean moved on to the one on her stomach, cleaning away the blood on it as well. “These two aren’t too deep. I should be able to clean them up with some alcohol and let them heal.” He set the towel down and traded it for alcohol soaked gauze. Y/n hissed when it touched her open wound.

“‘M sorry.” Dean frowned, actually looking up at her this time. She didn’t respond to him, her eyes flitting away from him as the tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. Really, she wanted to ease his guilt by telling him it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t make her mouth form the words, not when she didn’t really believe them herself. That only made her feel guilty too. 

When she first stumbled upon the Winchesters, she had heard the stories, she knew what kind of fate followed them and those associated. Beside her better judgement though, she fell for those stupid loveable boys. They became too much like family for her to walk away, and that had become her undoing this time. So while it wasn’t actually Dean’s fault, she couldn’t help thinking how she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for those damned Winchesters. And sure, as a hunter she wasn’t naive to the fact that her life would consist of nothing but blood and death, but she had never experienced anything on this scale. She couldn’t help wishing that the demon had just finished the job. 

Dean stood up and grabbed the towel again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he pursed them. This time, he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, his fingers turning her head so he could see the gash on her cheek. 

“This one is pretty deep though, I’m going to have to stitch it up.” He commented as he cleaned away the dried blood. Y/n closed her eyes, she had figured as much, but that didn’t make the affirmation any easier. When the demon had but the blade against her skin, she had known it was worse than the others. In his rage, he had done some real damage, and now she was going to have to live with that reminder on her face everyday for the rest of her life. 

“This is gonna sting.” He added, touching the gauze to her cheek before she could react. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek as he disinfected the wound. This wouldn’t even be the worst of it. 

“We don’t have anything to numb it either, unfortunately.” Dean added once he exchanged the gauze for the needle. 

“Mm, on my desk.” Y/n got out, her hand waving towards the wooden piece of furniture. Dean furrowed his brow and looked over, seeing what she was insinuating sitting there in the corner. He got up to fetch the whiskey and handed it over to her. Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle and she tipped it back, taking as much as she couldn handle into her mouth and swallowing. The burn down her throat was harsh, but the instant numbness that spread through her body was welcomed. Having an empty stomach certainly helped as well. She took another long pull before offering it to Dean. He took it without word and copied her actions, handing the bottle back to her.

With one last drink from the bottle, she shook her head and let out a long breath. “Okay, I’m ready.” Dean nodded and sat back down. Y/n closed her eyes in anticipation. She tried counting in her head as she waited for Dean to start, anything to focus her mind away from what was to come. 

A grunt forced its way up her throat and out her nose as the needle pierced her skin. Her tongue was caught between her teeth now as she fought everything in her to not scream. It would only serve to mess Dean up, and she would end up more mangled than she already was. Instead, her hand flew to Dean’s thigh, her fingers squeezing into the jean clad limb. 

With all her strength put behind the action, she knew she had to be hurting him, but the hunter never even acknowledged that she had touched him. Dean took all that she had to give him without even a blink of his eye. 

The tears in her eyes spilled over the corners and ran down the inside of her cheeks. Dean’s thumb came up and brushed away the one on the cheek he was working on. 

“I’m done, kid. You can let go of me now.” There was a hint of amusement behind his soft tone as he kept her jaw cradled in his hand. Her eyes flew open, heat once more brandishing her cheeks as she let go of him like she had been electrocuted. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Dean smiled at her, their eyes locking together for a moment before he cleared his throat and began to clean up. “Uh, you’ll have to keep that dry for a few days, so uh… just be careful when you take a shower.” He rambled on as he tossed the bloody gauze before moving to rinse the towel out in the sink. 

“Thanks, Dean.” 

Dean turned back to her, his own eyes gleaming in the low light of her room. “Anyday, kid.” 

~

It wasn’t news to her that Dean was out of her league and no matter the torch she held for the hunter, she had resigned to that fact a long time ago. But there was something about having her own thoughts reaffirmed out loud by a total stranger that managed to break her. Now she has this hideous thing on her face and all hope she ever had was lost in the wind. 

With a sigh, she rubbed in some of her scar diminishing cream and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Once she could get some control over these nightmares, she was out of here anyway. There was no reason for her to stick around. If she was being honest with herself, she was just scared of being picked up again for more information on the Winchester because she knew in her heart that she would do the same thing. She would defend them with her life, but she wasn’t sure that her heart could handle being rescued again. It was these moments in the quietest hours of the nights that she wishes she had never been saved at all. Though she was quick to swallow them down deep and hide them away for another night. 

Y/n ran a comb through her hair and tossed it into a heap on top of her head before getting dressed. As she exited the bathroom, she ran straight into a solid form. Dean’s hands flew out to steady her. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled, not meeting his eye. He frowned at her as he took in the scene in front of him. There was humid air falling from the room behind her and he caught the distinctive scent of her body wash. Her favorite old concert tee was tucked into the front of her high waisted jeans. 

“It’s fine. Did you just take a shower?” He let his hands fall from her shoulders. She glanced behind her and chuckled a little. 

“Oh yeah, sorry if I woke you.” the apology slipped past her lips before she could think twice about it. It was a bad habit that she had developed since she had been saved by the boys, though she wasn’t exactly sure where it had originated from. 

“You didn’t, it just… it’s two am Y/n/n.” Dean’s tongue pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I was a little gross, didn’t feel like waiting ‘till morning. No biggie.” Y/n made a move to side step Dean but he put himself back in her way. Her eyes scrunched closed as her body tensed and Dean instantly felt like an asshole, he should have known his movement would have triggered her. 

“Listen, I have a proposition for you. Meet me at Baby in ten?” Dean lowered his shoulders and took a step out of her personal space. 

“Dean, I-” 

“Please?” He interrupted her train of thought. With a sigh, she nodded her head and went for her room. She slipped on socks and a pair of shoes and grabbed her flannel. Once she was satisfied that she had what she needed for whatever it was that Dean had planned, she made her way down to the garage. To her surprise, he was already there, loading that old green cooler into the back seat. 

Dean smiled when he noticed she had entered the garage. “Hop in, sweetheart.” 

“Where are we going?” Her curiosity peaked as she climbed in the passenger seat.

“For a drive.” Dean shrugged his shoulders and pulled the impala out into the night. He stuck in her favorite cassette tape and turned it down to a reasonable level.

“I know that, but where to?” 

“Will you just trust me?” Dean turned to her and smiled for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. 

“I trust you with my life.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. She could see out of the corner of her eye the way Dean’s jaw ticked and she wished she could take it back. 

These last few weeks had been hard on the Winchesters too. Both of them felt overwhelmingly guilty for her capture and she knew that. Once Dean had stitched her up, he could barely look at her. She assumed it was because of how mangled and frail she looked after a week of being in the demon’s capture. Really, it was the guilt he felt in his heart every time he saw the way she grimaced when she moved or the scar across her face. Sam wasn’t any better either. It took Y/n snapping at him to ‘shut up already’ when he had apologized to her for the thousandth time. None of it was their fault, really and she knew that, but what she wanted more than anything was to just move on and they were not making that easy for her.

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, only the purr of the impala’s engine and the soft lull of the cassette playing to keep them company. Y/n’s gaze was fixed out the window, watching the passing landscape and counting the stars. She had never taken a good look at the countryside of Kansas on their many trips away from the bunker. The plains spanned out from the two lane highway, a beautiful piece of undisturbed Earth. Right now, she could imagine herself laying down in the middle of one of the fields, the plush greenery underneath her body a perfect cushion as she closes her eyes and succumbs to the darkness. 

The soft click of the song changing caught her attention. The soft melody was instantly recognizable. Dean’s eyes flickered to her as she leaned to turn the song up, a ghost of a smile passing her lips. He couldn’t help the smile that now graced his own features as she mumbled along to the lyrics. It was the first time since they had brought her home that he had noticed the tension dissipate from her shoulders. 

Dean came in on the chorus, his voice only a fraction of a decibel louder than her own, but it got her attention. Her head snapped to him, her eyebrows raised on her forehead before both of them put their all into the song. 

By the time the song faded, Y/n was giggling in the seat next to Dean. The sound gripped his heart in it’s fist, it was the most amazing thing he had heard in a long time. Even under its iron grip, it was like music to his ears. He wanted to spend all night just making her laugh. That’s when he got the perfect idea. Really, he had no plan other than to just drive when he shoved her into the passenger side of the impala, but now he understood where they had been headed the whole time. 

It was someplace he had discovered not long after they had found the bunker. He had needed a moment to cool off and went on a drive much like tonight and stumbled upon the deserted clearing. Actually, he hadn’t been back since. Life had become hectic, leaving little time for leisure and eventually the place had slipped his mind. Now, he knew it could be exactly what Y/n needed just like it had been for him all those years ago. 

As he turned down the gravel road, he noticed her interest peaked at his change of course. Her eyes were even more focused on her surroundings, darting back and forth as they passed under a canopy of trees. When the foliage cleared, the lake made its appearance, the moonlight bouncing over the soft waves on the surface. 

Dean pulled the impala as close to the dock as he could and put her in park. “Come on, kid.” He leaned over with a smile and patted Y/n’s knee before climbing out of the car. The warm late summer air had a tinge of humidity. Sounds of insects and the water rolling onto the shore hit both of them as they walked towards the small wooden dock that extended into the water. 

“What are we doing here?” She asked him as she followed behind him. The old wood creaked under their weight, causing the water to splash around its base. 

“We,” He smirked as he began to shrug off his flannel. “Are going for a swim.” Dean toed off his boots, pushing them away with his discarded flannel. 

“We’re what?” She couldn’t help the rise in her voice as she watched him continue to strip. First his t-shirt before he moved on to his belt. Y/n swallowed, the action caught in her throat as he shimmied his jeans down his thighs. He stood back up, now only in his dark briefs. 

“Swimming. That’s a lake, people do that in lakes.” Sarcasm was heavy in his words as he stepped to the edge of the dock. Dean winked before turning his back to her and diving into the dark water. Running to the edge she peered into the abyss, unable to make out anything in the night. A scream of his name was on the tip of her lips just as his head broke the surface. 

Dean shook the water from his head, his grin wider than a kid in a candy store. “Come on, kid. Jump in!” He hollered to her as the gentle waves around him splashed upon his face. She could tell from her vantage he was standing on the sand below, but the water was almost veiling the entire spanse of his broad shoulders and that meant that she would need to be on her toes to keep her own head above water. 

“You are insane, Winchester! I am not getting in that water!” 

“Chicken.” He taunted her.

“Uh yeah, you’re right. I have this thing about jumping into bodies of water that I can't see the bottom of.” She wasn’t lying to him, but she also wasn’t telling him the whole truth. The last thing she wanted to do right now was to strip down into her bra and underwear in front of Dean. And she certainly wasn’t jumping into the water in them. 

“If you don’t jump, I’m just going to have to come up there and pull you in, clothes and all.” He jested. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her smile fell, knowing full well that he would. Dean cocked an eyebrow before moving to the edge of the pier. He reached up, the muscles in his arms rippling as he began to tug himself up. “Ah! Okay, okay!” Dean halted his movements but didn’t back off. 

“I hate you so much.” Her chide remark lost on a triumphant Dean. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek as she turned away from him and began to undress. Her fingers were shaky as she tossed the items aside. It was too late to go back now that she was only in her bra and panties, but for some reason the idea of taking the plunge somehow scared her even more. 

“I’m waiting.” Dean sang out from below her. 

“Alright, hold your horses.” She barked and moved back to the edge. Screwing her eyes shut she leapt from dock, the cool water surrounding her as she slipped under the surface. The water was just cool enough to be refreshing, but it was also able to clear some of the fuzziness in her head before she broke back above the gentle waves. She wiped the water from her face and blinked a few times, finding Dean just inches in front of her. 

“Holy..” She breathed out. Somehow Dean knew exactly what she needed. It was like a light switched had been flipped in her head. Something about the way the dark water enveloped her body was comforting in a way she never remembered it ever being. Maybe it had something to do with the night sky above her, or even the solitude of the moment.

“I know.” Dean smirked, that air of arrogance once again crossing his features. As much as she loved the hunter wading in front of her, he could be such a smug man. She hated it and loved it at the same time. It was all a part of the Dean Winchester charm. 

“Alright,” She rolled her eyes at him. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction. Dean flicked the water between them at her face, surprising her. She retaliated, giving a bit more force behind her action and sending water cascading over his face. Dean threw his head back and chuckled.

“Oh, kid you do not want to start.” 

“Hey! You splashed me first.” She defended as Dean pursed his lips. A smirk appeared on her lips as she figured she had won this fight, only for Dean to use both hands to splash her. The force of the wave sending her underwater for a second. 

“Winchester!” She spit the water from her mouth once she breached the surface again. Dean was laughing again and she grit her teeth. He asked for this. Y/n leapt onto the tall hunter, putting all her force into dunking him under the water. Dean flailed under her for a moment before his hands found her waist and he pulled her under along with him. After a beat, he brought both of them back to surface. Dean shook the water from his hair as she wiped it from her face. Both of them bust out laughing again as they got their bearings in the water. Dean still had his hands around her waist and on instinct her arms had gone around his neck. 

For a moment, Dean’s plan had worked wonders. All of the memories and worries haunting her mind had slipped away. It was just the two of them giggling like children in the cool water. That is until she realised their proximity to each other. Even in the light from the moon, she could make out the mixture of gold and emerald in his iris’ and the sheer number of freckles that adorn his cheeks and nose. Dean was gazing right back at her, taking in the barely visible flush in her cheeks and the way the water dripped from the edges of her lashes and the tip of her nose. It took her clearing her throat and glancing away to break him from his trance. 

Tightening his grip around her waist, Dean’s hands slid up her back to push her body as close to his as he could. He nuzzled his nose against hers as she gasped, the noise sharp in the quiet night. 

“Dean.” Her breath fanned over his face and Dean closed his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?” Dean didn’t respond with words, instead choosing to show her. He knew that she was fully aware of his intentions, but that she was more worried about why. Why he chose her, or more importantly to him, why he would keep choosing her. Dean’s lips brushed against her own, the pressure almost non existent. He still wanted to give her the option to stop him. When she didn’t, he pulled away and kissed her again with a little more force. Then again, and again, and again, until she was meeting him in the middle. Her blunt fingernails were now digging into the skin at the base of his skull as she pulled him to herself, all hesitation floating away with the waves. Y/n tilted her head back and opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth and move against her own. There was something about the way he tasted to her, there was not one thing she could pinn down, all of it intoxicatingly Dean Winchester. 

As she began to slip out of his grasp, Dean’s hands flew to the back of her thighs, encouraging her to wrap them around his waist. Too drunk on his mouth against her own, her body complied of its own accord. Her whole body clung to him like he was her life line, which she supposed he was. Even with everything she went through and all the doubts in her head, she knew with all her heart that if she let go of Dean, she would drown. 

Dean pulled his lips from hers, his chest heaving as he fought for air. “Damn, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Honestly?” She nodded. “After we finally found you, you were so broken. I couldn’t help but feel guilty about that. Guilty about not protecting you. And you had changed, rightfully so. You weren’t the same girl I had stupidly fallen in love with. I didn’t know how to help you, hell I can’t even help myself out of that hole half the time.”

“So what changed?”

“You did. You bouncing your head to the beat of the music in Baby. It was you trying to drown me in a lake and laughing like the world was no longer on your shoulders. I’m sorry but I couldn’t keep this feeling in any longer.” He ran his hand over her wet locks. 

“Don’t be. Thank you Dean, for all of this. I don’t want this night to end.” Her words lowered into a soft whisper as she made her confession. 

“It doesn’t have to, kid. I’m here now.” Dean’s lips were soft but demanding as he stole her breath away one last time, pouring all his emotions and promises into his movements. He would be damned (again) if he ever let her go again. 

Forevers: @spn-impala​​ @22sarah08​​ @turtlepad​​ @callmekda​​ @chaldei​​ @hobby27​​ @cowboysnwinchesters​​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @pikabootoyouchu​​ @dawnie1988​​ @grease222​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @polina-93​​ @clarinette07​​ @moonlight-babeh​​ @suckerforfanfics​​ @witandnargles​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @geeksareunique​ @akshi8278​

[ghastily]

✎ — Gravity (4/??)

➥   Wolfpack x Reader | 3245 | Ao3

⚠️  Blood, Off-Screen Home Invasion

Things go from bad to worse.

note: I was worried I was putting Reader through too much at once, but a friend told me “when it rains, it pours”. I hope people enjoy this chapter for all the headaches it gave me.

You’ve never met this woman before and her comment catches you completely off guard, leaving you standing there in the diner looking baffled and confused. Tilting your head to the side, you wonder that

maybe

if you squint you’ll be able to discern what the woman wants exactly. Whatever the hell that may be.

“Uh, I’m sorry? Do I know you?”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear apparently, and you didn’t need to be Force-sensitive to feel the aggression rolling off her as a result. It’s enough to intimidate you into taking a hesitant step back, putting space between you and her. Just what did you do to earn this much anger from someone?! She advances after you, jabbing a finger in your direction.

“You home-wrecker! Don’t act dumb, I know you’ve been trying to steal my boyfriends from me!”

What.

“What?”

“Don’t think I don’t know they’ve been sneaking around with you, you slut. Can’t even keep your legs closed, huh?”

“Excuse yo—”

There’s no chance to finish what you were saying because it feels like a bomb just went off in the diner — a bomb named Harmony . She’s a blur of blonde hair, and the pounding of heavy black boots on tile floor. The sound of her hand connecting with the woman’s cheek is deafening, and you stare at them in shock, frozen in place from the suddenness of it all. The woman stumbles back, clutching her rapidly reddening cheek and hisses.

“How dare you!”

“How dare I?! How dare you! Coming in here, insulting a person you don’t even know! A person I consider my best friend!”

The shouting was unbearably loud, nearing the point of screeching from both parties. It hurts your ears. You could see the woman’s face over Harmony’s shoulder steadily turning as red as her cheek as their anger mounted. The commotion draws Dex’s attention and he’s soon coming out from the back to stand between Harmony and the woman. A barricade to keep them from fighting.

“Enough!” His voice booms through the diner and your stomach tightens. You’ve never heard Dex yell like that before. He gently pushes Harmony toward you, “Harmony, cool your jets.”

He turns to glare at the other woman, “Ma’am I think it’s ‘bout time you left.”

Dex’s voice left no room for argument, and though she seemed ready to continue her fight she wisely decided against it. No doubt her only smart decision ever, in your opinion. She’s stumbling out the door shouting about getting the police involved.

You’re grateful there was no one eating at the diner at this hour. The tension in the room takes a while to dissipate after she’s gone.

“A few days ago Wolffe told me they had an ex and it ended badly,” You frown, rubbing your upper arm in an attempt to comfort yourself — something Sinker would do when he noticed you were unsettled by something, “Guess that was her.”

“Case of crazy ex-girlfriend, huh?” Dex hums, one of four arms stroking his chin while the others rested on his hips. “If she’s going to become a problem… I know a guy.”

Harmony huffs, “If we’re going to put a hit on her, I’ll do it for free!”

“Let’s just hope we won’t see her again after that.” You sigh heavily before slipping back into the kitchen, for such a short exchange it felt like it lasted for hours and was just as draining. It’s soft but you can barely make out Dex gently reprimanded Harmony for striking a customer. She retorts they’re not a customer if they don’t order anything.

It makes you smile.

You go home to an empty house that night. There’s no lights to guide you home, no one to greet you when you let yourself inside, no sound coming from the living room.. It’s empty. The darkness inside feels heavy, pushing down on you as you kick your shoes off at the door, next to the civilian shoes Boost and Sinker use.

“I’m home.” You whimper out into the void.

No one answers.

Dragging your feet into the kitchen and not bothering with the lights, you drop the bag of left overs from the diner on the counter. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful to Dex and Harmony, but the guys really did bring something special to your little world. You don’t even remember how you lived without them before.

They’ll come and go like this because of the war, you’ll have to learn and find a way of coping with that from now on. Or maybe they never come home. You take a deep, shuddering breath and bat away at the swell of tears in your eyes.

Whatever. You’re not hungry anymore.

“Cross that bridge when we get there.” You mumble to yourself, haphazardly throwing your leftovers into the fridge before heading down the hall to your bedroom. You don’t bother undressing and just fall face first into the bed with a loud sigh. The bed creaks in protest. Rolling onto your side, you cling to a pillow like it’s the only thing anchoring you here. It’s from Sinker’s side of the bed, the smell of shaving cream is a small comfort that helps lull you into a dreamless sleep.

She’s back again the next day, you can hear her screeching and making a scene in the front. And it’s taking every ounce of your strength to not start throwing Dex’s dishes out the window at her. She’s getting louder, practically shouting at this point, just to make sure you hear ever single venomous word she’s spitting.

“They’re only with you to get back at me! You’re just trash once they’re done playing!”

You do break a dish this time. Slamming it on the counter and it shatters into pieces, you grab the largest piece and barge out the door ready to finish a fight you didn’t even start. Harmony catches you before you can get far into the dining room, slinging her arms around your waist and hauling you back.

“Whoa, hold up, sugar!” Harmony pleads, “I wanna beat her face in too but Dex’s got it!”

Dex is on the other side of the diner, watching a Mandalorian haul the woman out of the diner. She’s hissing and spitting like a wet loth cat and the bounty hunter doesn’t seem even the least bit phased, the customers in the dining room just smirk and enjoy the show. When Dex turns and heads in your direction you can see just how unhappy and disappointed he looks — a cold wash of fear douses your anger leaving you feeling hollow and frightened .

“Harmony, take care of the diner.” The waitress nods quickly, casting a worried look in your direction before hurrying off to finish order tickets.

Dex’s hand is heavy on your shoulder as he turns you toward the back and into his office. You’re shaking when he guides you to sit in a chair, and thick alien fingers carefully pry your hand open. Dex takes the shard of plate you had been clutching and tosses it into the garbage. In your anger you gripped it so hard that it cut into your palm, blood running over your palm and along your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” You choke out around the lump in your throat, hot tears spilling down your cheeks, “Please don’t fire me, Dex. I—”

“Hmph, none of that now. No one is being fired.” Dex is careful as he cleans your palm, wrapping it up in a bandage, “You got nothin’ to worry ‘bout. I ain’t mad at you, I’m mad at that woman.”

You sniff loudly, wiping away snot with the back of your sleeve, “It’s my fault she’s even here in the first place.”

“That ain’t your fault,” Dex lightly squeezes your hand when he’s done. You bite your lip and try to blink away the tears, it’s so hard to look straight at him so you stare at a stain on the floor. “Her bad decisions are her’s alone and no body else’s.”

A small piece of you know he’s right, that none of this is your fault but you can’t help but feel like it is. Maybe if you had never met Sinker and Boost, Dex and others could’ve been spared this drama.

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath.

“Think you can still work, kiddo?” Dex didn’t want to send you home, not with that woman nearby and you so upset. He sounds worried and you crack open your eyes, finally, finally looking at your boss and nod numbly. He doesn’t look angry, there’s only worry and soft affection like that of a guardian looking after their charges.

“All right, whenever you’re ready come back out. Just be careful with that hand.”

Dex pats your head as he gets up, grunting and smoothing his shirt out with his other pair out arms. “Everything’s gonna be okay, just keep your chin up.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, “Yeah.”

The next day is better — a lot better actually. There’s no crazy woman screeching in the diner, you’re not breaking plates, and you’re definitely feeling better emotionally but you’re feeling cautiously optimistic. You’re slowly but surely getting use to not having the guys around, but it’s still rough going home to an empty house and your heart aches with the desire to see them again.

Work flows right by without any incidents, quiet and easy as it usually does, and just as you’re heading out at the end of the day Harmony bounds up beside you. She loops her arm through yours causing you both to sway a bit with her weight against your side.

“Hey there, friend!” Harmony beams, “So I had this idea since it’s the weekend…”

“Mhm, I’m listening.”

“You should come spend the night at my place! When was the last time we had a chance to bond?!” Harmony is practically vibrating with excited energy, “We’ll have some us time, watch trashy shows, pig out on junk food.”

You laugh. At first you thought to say no but the grip Harmony has on your arm says you can say whatever you want — this is happening. And she’s been not so subtlety pushing you in the direction to her own place. “Okay! Okay, you don’t have to twist my arm. I’ll go!”

Harmony lets out a ‘whoop’ of victory, pumping her fist in the air.

It was a night you wouldn’t soon forget. An evening filled with giggling as you built a pillow fort in Harmony’s living room, drank cheap wine, and ate left over desserts from Dex’s. You definitely wouldn’t forget the stomach ache and hang over the next morning.

The 104th Battalion return to Coruscant late the next day, and Boost is anxious to get off the transport and see you again. He had been on edge the entire mission, there was a constant nagging in the back of his mind that something right back home. Something involving you. Boost needed off this ship yesterday .

He let out a loud sigh, tapping his foot against the floor anxiously.

“I told you to use the ‘fresher before we left, Boost!” Sinker smirks under his helmet, holding tighter to one of the overhead rings as the ship swayed around the buildings on Coruscant.

“I did use it! I just wanna —” Boost falters, catching himself before blurting out that he wanted to see you in front of General Plo Koon, “— go get a drink at 79’s cause wow, what a mission that was!”

Wolffe bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

The shuttle sways again as it finally arrives outside the GAR barracks, the side opening up as it slowly descends onto a landing platform. Boost can’t wait any longer and jumps off the shuttle as soon as the hatch is open wide enough for him to get through. He bolts across the platform the moment his feet are on the ground.

“Boost! That’s dangerous! Don’t run!” Sinker shouts and the ship settles. He sighs and chases after his brother at a brisk pace that was certainly not running.

Plo Koon watches in amusement as the two troopers run off. The clones were notoriously bad liars, but Plo Koon enjoyed a close relationship with the men under his care. He knew, though they never spoke of it outright, about their breaking regulations to pursue a relationship with a civilian — and the ultimate fallout of when it failed. Sinker and Boost’s spirits were low and Wolffe had been snappier than usual, until recently that is. “They’ve been quite lively lately.”

“Sir?”

“I hope you’ll introduce us soon, Commander.”

Wolffe’s cheeks grow hot and he’s grateful that the helmet hides his reaction from view. Though he’s sure the Jedi can see right through him.

“I will see what I can do, sir.”

Plo Koon seems pleased by the answer and that’s good enough for Wolffe. He carefully disembarks the shuttle and starts to make his way across the platform, trying to keep a casual and nonchalant pace. The last thing he wants to do is make a scene of chasing after Boost and Sinker. Once Wolffe makes it off the platform and away from prying eyes, he begins to run. He knows where his brothers are going, a tiny piece of him wants to be there too.

Home .

It doesn’t take him long to catch up with Sinker and Boost, but the sight of them lingering outside your door sets off warning bells in his head. Their good-mood is gone, replaced by an emotion they feel in battle.

“The door is busted.” Sinker gestures toward your door and what remains of the lock on it spitting blue, electrical sparks — a sign that someone had failed to hack it and decided to brute force their way in instead. There was no clearer sign that you were in danger, or possibly worse. Wolffe quickly falls back into the role of a Commander, he couldn’t let his worry for you cloud his judgment. He’d worry about that after he knew you were safe.

“Boost, let’s get inside. Sinker, talk to the neighbors and find out what they know.”

The two troopers nod and immediately get to task. It takes the combined strength of Wolffe and Boost pulling to get the door to slide open just enough for them to squeeze inside. Inside they’re greeted by a dark home torn apart by chaos, the walls slashed and marked up with obscene writing, furniture was broken and tossed across the room.

There’s no signs of a fight, just the aftermath of a storm blowing through, but it does little to ease the troopers’ minds.

Wolffe calls out your name.

There’s only a deafening silence.

Boost takes off down the hallway, Wolffe hot on his heels, and into your bedroom. There’s a heavy pit in both their stomachs as they fear for the worst, that they’d find you dead in your bed. It’s only a small relief for them when they find that you’re not here, but the bedroom is no better than the rest. Everything that could be broken — was . Your clothes, their civvies, and any little trinkets you had were destroyed and tossed on the floor.

Wolffe had an idea who was behind this, and an angry fire blooms inside him. He wishes, hopes , he’s wrong.

“Guys! I got something!” Sinker shouts from the front and both brothers rush to his call.

“What did you find out?” Wolffe demands as soon as he sees Sinker by the door, fists clenched tight. Boost stands at his side, his worried expression hidden behind his helmet.

“They’re at the police station.”

“Let’s go.” Before the words can finish leaving Wolffe’s mouth, the boys are squeezing back through the busted front door and racing to the nearest police station. This wasn’t what they wanted to come home to.

It startles everyone inside when three troopers burst into the lobby of the civilian police force, huffing and puffing from running through the streets. And that is where they find you, shaken but safe, sitting on a bench with Harmony beside you. It’s a huge relief.

The moment you’re on your feet is when you’re crushed between Sinker and Boost. It’s an awkward tangle of limbs as all three of you try to hug and cling to each other. It’s horribly uncomfortable with the way their gear and helmets press into you but neither you, Sinker, or Boost are willing to let each other go now. Not for anything.

You do let go, eventually, pulling away just enough to free your arms so you can wiping frantically at your face as happy tears start to swell forth. It feels like it’s been forever, and you’re so happy to see them again. Your voice cracks, “I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Boost rubs his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears.

You melt under his touch, and the world around you fades away. Everything will be fine now.

Harmony stands up from the bench with a quiet sigh and the barest of smiles tugging at the corner of her lips. You’re preoccupied with Sinker and Boost for now, he’ll have time later with you — privately. Wolffe slips past the three of you to join her, Harmony was there for you when they couldn’t be and she deserved some gratitude.

“Thank you for looking out for them.”

“Hm?” She tilts her head in Wolffe’s direction, curling a strand of blonde hair around one finger, “It’s nothing. That’s what you do for the people you care about.”

“It’s obvious you do,” Wolffe hums thoughtfully, “I wonder if we should consider you competition..”

“Only if you break their heart.” Harmony smirks mischievously at the trooper. Wolffe tenses up, he hadn’t actually meant it but now that he thought about it.. She was the closest person to you.

“It seems like you’re in good hands now, sugar.” Harmony gently pries you from Sinker and Boost long enough to give you a hug, planting an affectionate kiss on your cheek that leaves the faintest trace of red lipstick behind on your skin. “Gonna head back and let Dex know everything’s okay.”

You don’t even think twice about it, oblivious to the exchange between her and Wolffe, hugging Harmony tightly in return. “Thanks for staying with me. Be careful heading back. I’ll comm you later, okay?”

“You’d better!” She grins from ear to ear, sauntering her way out of the police station, but not before catching Wolffe’s eye again. Harmony points at her eyes then at Wolffe, mouthing out a silent ‘watching you’ before she leaves. He shakes his head, looking back at you and his brothers, each with a hand on your hip as you spoke quietly to one another.

“We can’t go back yet while it’s under investigation, and I’ve already imposed on Harmony enough..”

“Don’t think they’d allow civilians in the barracks either.” Boost frowns.

Sinker shakes his head, “Maybe a hotel room?”

“I think now might be a good time to introduce you to Plo Koon.” Wolffe joins the group, rubbing the red smudge of lipstick off your cheek with a frown. You lean away from him with a whine, face scrunched up at how rough the touch is, “He may have an idea of where you can stay until this is resolved.”

[dracosearlgreytea]

indelicate marks (4)

indelicate marks: chapter four - the proposal 

A/N: hi guys hope you’re all doing okay with everything going on right now. i also hope you’re ready for some angst very soon because oH boY you’re in for it. thanks again for the support and ill see you soon :) - ivy 

warnings: language, tEnSiOn

lovely tags: @h-annahayy @okaydraco @fanficflaneuse

indelicate marks index

You'd gone invisible again. And Draco, much to his annoyance, noticed this time more than ever. He'd begun to associate you with a very odd feeling - a mixture of dread, pity and guilt. It was a feeling that clouded his thoughts for days after he'd last met you in the bathroom, and it kept him avoiding going to see Myrtle as much as his panic attacks allowed him to. Because, as much as he tried to, he couldn't shake that awful, burning sensation from your memory. It was already familiar to him, yes, but the screaming played like white noise in any moment of silence, and waves of nausea would flood through him when he recalled Bellatrix Lestrange's harrowing eyes. Somehow, hearing someone else's pain was a lot worse than hearing his own, especially in his dreams. Yet, whilst he felt as though he should speak to you, he found himself steering clear of you as much as physically possible. Draco despised the guilt you made him feel - as though he owed you an apology, or something.   But, even avoiding you proved difficult. Seeing as he was never sure where you actually were. Draco tried to take note of where you sat in classes, but you were always writing, head down, and half the time he wasn't even sure if it was you. Rare occasions in which you, or he, for that matter, showed up the Great Hall never seemed to coincide. You were making the entire situation very bloody exhausting. Autumn had started to brown the leaves of the Whomping Willow before he saw you again.   He couldn't deny that the bags under his eyes had become more prominent over the weeks. Face hollowing, his clothes were feeling a lot looser than they had done before. If he wasn't in classes, he was in the Room of Requirement, muttering to himself as he tried - and failed - to repair the Vanishing Cabinet. To make matters worse, he was also gradually becoming immune to the Sleeping Draught that Snape supplied him with. But plotting any means of completing his mission left little room for any other thoughts. It kept him up until the very early hours of the morning, trying to banish memories of summer from his mind. Draco felt at his wits end - and at this point, a little bit stir-crazy. He'd come to the bathrooms in hopes of talking to Myrtle, wanting to voice the plans that went round and round in his mind. Maybe they would make more sense, he guessed, if someone else heard them. His hopes, however, were diminished the moment he pushed open the door. You were sat on the edge of the sinks, swinging your legs as you mumbled to Myrtle. Draco's chest tightened as the ghost let out a shriek at the sight of him in the doorway, shooting off into the pluming. Turning to face him, your wand tightened in your grip, once hanging loosely from your hands. Fucking hell, is she always here? He stared back at you, expression blank, as you searched him. In fact, you didn't seem all that phased, not bothering to move from the sink. He wasn't sure what he should say, or if he should even stay, for that matter.   "Let's not make this a habit," You muttered, before he could leave, features stony. "I'm not attempting to." Draco shot back, ignoring the scoff that came from you. "You're the one that seems to haunt this bathroom more than Myrtle bloody does." You scowled, but remained silent, staring down at your lap. He slipped his hands into his pockets, unsure if he should bring up your last meeting, but he supposed it would be best to clarify your intentions whilst you were sat in front of him. "Should I be expecting a visit from the Ministry anytime soon?" Frowning, confusion flickered amongst your features for a moment. Then, you shot him a quick glance, hinted with disbelief. "I told you." You said, tone empty. "You can trust me." Despite the unease that melted away from him, he sneered. "I can hardly trust someone who's Occlumency is that shit." You tensed, before pushing yourself off of the sinks and rounding on him, wand tight in your grip. Eyes hard, and accusatory, you glowered. "What's that supposed to mean?" Your glare flicked up and down his body, finally taking in his appearance properly for the first time since he came in. He shifted under your inspection, uncomfortable with the way your features pulled in, as though you were judging him. Raising an eyebrow, you spoke again, abandoning whatever words you were about to hurtle at him. "Bloody hell, what happened to you?" "What happened to you?" Draco narrowed his eyes, eager to have the focus off him. But, he had already noted how ill you looked compared to the last time he saw you. If you passed out there and then, he wouldn't have been surprised. You blinked, throwing him a glare. "Why do you care?" "Why do you?" Draco countered, raising an eyebrow lazily. You frowned, but stayed silent. He pushed again. "So it hasn't got anything to do with the fact that my convict of aunt came to visit, then?" You stiffened, eyes glazing. A bitter regret pinched at his gut. Why was he even still stood there? He should have left as soon as he saw you in the room - plus, he knew you weren't going to tell anyone for sure now. But then, you recovered, fixing Draco with a look that he wasn't sure how to take, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. "What happens in my personal life isn't of your concern, Malfoy." "Back to Malfoy, are we?" He deadpanned, prompting you to grimace. "Maybe you should have thought about that before invading my personal life." It didn't take long for frustration to take over your indistinct features, glaring at him with a clenched jaw. "You're the one that decided to practice Legilimency on me!" You spat. His lips pulled into a light scowl. "And I've told you, I'm not going to tell anyone, so can you please stop tormenting me now?" Draco hesitated. He was reluctant to just leave you walking round knowing a secret that could get him killed. Yes - the chances of you telling anyone was unlikely, and yes - it was doubtful that anyone would try and find out through Legilimency. But the idea of exposure had made his anxieties so much worse over the past few weeks. He was willing to do almost anything to get them to calm down, even in the slightest. If he could just get a decent bloody nights sleep... He sighed. "If you're going to know, you'll need to learn better Occlumency." You froze. Before, you had been acting rather restrained - as though you were unsure of how you should act around him, other than maybe a little pissed off by his remarks. Your expression now, however, had dissipated into a very genuine dread. "What?" "I can't risk you knowing unless you can keep people out." He paused, watching your reaction carefully. "Which, clearly, you can't." You scoffed. "My Occlumency is perfectly fine, I'll have you know." Face dead set, Draco raised his eyebrows and you sighed, defeated. "Fine. If you're that bloody bothered. I'll talk to Snape." Panic and a hint of anger flashed through Draco at your implication, and he jumped forward, instinctively taking a few strides towards you. "No!" He hissed, only to freeze when you pulled back. Your breathing hitched, staring at him with panicked, wide eyes. Clearly, you hadn't forgiven him for the last time he lost control over his actions. Swallowing, he took a breath, clearing his mind. "No. Don't talk to Snape. Who taught you last time?"   Eyes clouding, you studied him again - prompting that uncomfortable feeling in his gut. Something about the way you looked at him made him feel utterly too conscious of himself. Never before in his life had he felt so self-aware, and hated it. But then, your eyes became avoidant. You threw him an uncertain glance as your eyebrows flicked up, lips pulled into a bitter, half-smile. "My parents." Ah. Draco was aware that at some point, your parents had managed to escape Azkaban. After the whole exposure of Deatheaters, including his father, at the Ministry, he wasn't sure if they were caught a second time, or if they had even been there at all. Though, it was unlikely that they hadn't been there, being some of the more avid supporters of the Dark Lord. He could recall recognising a surname amongst his in the Daily Prophet, too. Honestly, he hadn't considered it that much. Now, standing in front of their daughter, he wished he had.   "That's what I thought." You mumbled, having noticed the pause in his demeanour. Draco stared at you, debating his options. After what he'd seen in your memory, he was pretty much certain that you talking to Potter was out of the question. This wasn't, however, something he could risk. It wasn't exactly some petty secret that could cause a scandal if it got out between students, no. Keeping Dumbledore - and anyone else with the ability to use Legilimency on the opposing side, for that matter - unaware, was the utmost priority. Even if it meant having to give someone he'd spoken to a handful of times Occlumency lessons. He let out a particularly heavy sigh. "Fine. I'll bloody teach you, but for one hour a week at most. I do not have time-" "Wait, wait, wait." You shook your head, staring at him in disbelief. Draco flicked his eyebrow upward. Struggling to get your words out, you continued to look at him, horrified, prompting him to let out an impatient growl.   "What? "You - You want to teach me Occlumency?" The expression on your face could have been laughable. Eyebrows drawn in, mouth agape - as though he had suggested trying to poison a Potions Master. Rolling his eyes, he begun to wish he hadn't suggested anything. Draco only fixed you with a very bored look. "I wouldn't say I want to, but yes." Your stare continued for a minute longer, beginning to annoy him to no bloody end. There was a hint of discomfort in your look that almost made him feel annoyingly guilty - but he pushed it away. Instead, you only sighed, frowning with a shake of the head. "Fine. When?" "Thursday, 6 o'clock. At the abandoned classroom on the third floor." Crossing your arms, you gave him a singular nod, expression absent. "Okay." Draco continued to search your face, unconvinced by your uncertainty. He would have missed it if he wasn't looking so carefully. Your lips sent him that twitch he remembered so well. A promise. You can trust me. Without a word, Draco turned away from you, but not before capturing the feeling you left him with, tucking it away deep inside him for the rest of the week.

[littleeyesofpallas]

Since I did just reference this in a previous post, I figure this is worth covering, however brief...

==============================================

ULQUIORRA: ――只今戻りました藍染様

I'm home, Lord Aizen 

AIZEN: おかえり ウルキ���ラ ヤミ��

Welcome home, ULQUIORRA, YAMMY

“Tadaima“ is the phrase you say when entering your own occupied home, and “Okaeri“ is the phrase you say when welcoming someone home.  They don’t literally mean the same as “I'm home” and “Welcome home” word for word (they’re both shortened from longer formal phrases) but they function the same in the common context.  What doesn’t  come across here is that this isn’t a casual exchange, it has this weird pretense of, like, playing house, almost?

I don’t know how to explain it since there really isn’t a good English equivalent, since we don’t really have as much super formal speech as the Japanese.  There is just something a little out of place about the way it’s being used here, because this isn’t really within the realms of it’s normal, grounded and casual real world usage.  The idea that Aizen has designated this place as “Home” creates a certain mood about the way this scene ends the chapter, and colors the scene change itself as a very distinctly dark and moody kind of shift.

It’s definitely lost in translation, but to be fair to the translators, I don’t really know how I’d go about trying to communicate something this subtle, because any attempt to explain it immediately robs it of that very subtly.  Language is hard, guys...

==============================================

さあ戌果を聞かせてくれ

Come now, let me know the result(s)

我等二十の同胞の前で

In front of your compatriots of we 20

It’s a curious remark to make, and seemed to sum up the odds the heroes would be facing.  We had just learned that by Hitsugaya’s estimation “10 Vastlord” would be enough to topple Soul Society.  And so that idea that potentially twice that many were already under Aizen’s command was a big threat, and set up the arc as if it would be a guessing game of which background characters would eventually be revealed as any of the 10 necessary power houses to defeat Soul Society...  But as we all know that’s not a hook that ever actually got used...

But also, a key word here being, 

Curiously Aizen seems to count himself among Ulquiorra’s “countrymen” or “compatriots” suggesting he’s not talking about the Arrancar specifically but just the forces of Los Noches.  There are 17 silhouettes, so with Aizen, Gin, and Tousen that makes 20 other than Yammy and Ulquiorra themselves.  But they’re the one’s being spoken to (what I assume is collectively) so obviously it doesn’t count Ulq, but I assume it also doesn’t count Yammy.

Alternatively I’m overthinking that detail and it’s just that there are a few shadowy blobs missing and Aizen really does mean 20 Arrancar.  In which case the phrase could be translated as “Brethren” or “Brothers” more effectively.

Either way it creates a very distinct tone of familial or factional unity, which ironically gets immediately bucked when Grimmjow starts mouthing off the very next chapter as the scene continues.  I think that’s very intentional though, and not just Kubo’s often shaky writing; I think he means for this whole sense of unity and organization framing the Arrancar to feel fake or forced.  It’s Aizen playing house with all this, the Arrancar are all just in it for themselves and as Hollows have a kind of natural resistance to Aizen bringing in this very Soul Society-like social/military structure.  It’s a neat detail to this early world building Kubo had to do to set up the new arc...

But while we’re here, let’s actually do a headcount real quick...

Ulquiorra and Yammy are of course already introduced going into Chapter 198, and Chapter 197 ended on the “20 brethren” line.

In 198 Grimmjow is named for the first time, and in the background we see DiRoy and Shawlong with him, who get named in the next chapter.

Since the attack happens almost immediately after this, and I think it’s safe to assume Grimmjow’s gang wasn’t made in the intervening hours, Nakeem, Edrad, and Yylfordt are presumably among The 20.

But also seen in 198 are 3 unnamed (and indeed never to be seen again) Arrancar

And with them, a very early design of Tier Harribel.

So, the above pictured are all the Arrancar we know of, up to that point, and we won’t count Ulq and Yammy, but that’s still half “The 20″ right there.

But let’s take this a step further, just for laughs...

We know Aisslinger Wernarr is loitering around somewhere, and he was first seen along with DiRoy way back in Chapter 25, plus later databooks will establish that he is Arrancar #17.

We later find out the Privaron were the previous Espada, replaced by the current ones, that adds Dordonii, Cirucci, and Gantenbain to the count.

Looking ahead a ways.... When Zomarri moves to finish off Rukia after her fight with Aaronierro, he mentions that Aaronierro is the “last of the original Espada” which should logically also place him among The 20.  It should also make him older than the rest of the Espada who presumably were born afterwards and not born first then powered up after the fact...

But here’s where things get tangled... this means that Yammy, Ulquiorra, Grimmjow and Tier are all part of a second set of Espada, because Dordonii, Cirucci, Gantenbain and Aaroniero make up the original generation. (I’m not getting into 102 or 100, covered in the LNs)  But Kubo establishes later that Grimmjow was once Arrancar #12 before becoming #6.  If that’s so, then presumably all the Espada have a birth number prior to their Espada rank.

So, if the only Arrancar are in the room, (and if we just assume Aizen & crew don’t count) then they are implicitly the 20 oldest surviving Arrancar.  Then based on numbers, as Kubo would eventually give us through databooks and the manga itself, most of 11-30 are accounted for, and we know based on the fact that they all appeared alive and not as part of some flashback or references to the deceased, that they were alive during this scene...

In fact, only #19, 21, 23, 28, 29, 30, were never assigned to a character.  But that means we’ve only got 6 slots in The 20.  Even if we assume the other 6 implied original Espada died when being replaced, leaving only 103, 105, 107, and 9, that’s still 8 Arrancar either visibly in this scene or implicitly present at the scene that can’t fit into the mere 6 empty slots we’ve got.

This also implies that anyone not in that 20 count were “born” as Arrancar inbetween this scene and their first appearance.  Most notably problematic in that is Nnoitra, Tesra, Szayelaporro, Nel, Pesche, and Dondochakka, all of whom show up in an indistinctly placed flashback.  And even more contradictory than what’s already tangled here...

Tesra was actually given a number, and he’s Arrancar #50, which means that in between the scene with “The 20″ and Nnoitra’s flashback the other ~20+ Arrancar had to be made first AND THEN the whole drama in the flashback.

Also, when Wonderweiss is born he’s #77, and Nnoitra is present at that scene already in his cobra/spoon hood, rather than the regular high collar he wears in his flashback.

All of which means that Nel was only out there in the desert in baby form for like, a week or two, tops? (I have a whole other giant theory on what she was supposed to be, but that rant will have to wait for another time...)

Anyway, I know it’s really just sort of obvious that Kubo didn’t pay any attention to, or plan any kind of continuity between the start and end of the Arrancar arc, so it seems silly to go to all this trouble just to come to a very obvious conclusion, but I figured that so long as I got this all here in front of me I might as well show the work on that equation for once.

============================================== 

Also, before we end, a notable detail in this scene: It’s the first time we see Aizen’s fortress of Los Noches, although it hasn’t been named yet.  And although it has tiled floors and Aizen’s big blocky throne atop a sheer wall, the Arrancar appear to be situated on a naturally occurring rocky surface like a cliff.  And the establishing shots here and elsewhere seem to suggest an open air structure, rather than an enclosed building like what Ichigo & co. would eventually invade.

On the one hand this may have just been a change in design on Kubo’s part, as much of the Arrancar as seen in these early phases would later be changed and tweaked, but it’s also possible that this is showing that Los Noches was only recently constructed, basically being built entirely from the ground up in the course of the month or two between Aizen’s retreat into Hueco Mundo with the Menos Grande at the end of the Soul Society arc and the eventual storm of the completed fortress.

When Grimmjow returns from Karakura town alone, Aizen’s throne room has already changed noticeably: The rocks have been cleared from in front of his throne, there are new walls and broad pillars where there used to be just narrow rods and draped cloth.  Also the vague shadowy backdrop that seemed to imply an open sky is gone, and there is now a ceiling, plus nearby structures clearly establish that the throne room is indoors now.

[ashara779]

Trapped

I’ve been very busy with work this week, but I’m so glad that I managed to finish this one in time! This is my first ever fanfic, so please ignore any and all writing mistakes m(> <)m

Day 4: Tight Spaces

******

"Now!" whispered Moon, as the group of men in suits rounded the corner. She and Gladion ran as silently as they could. They stopped in front of a redwood door, with a  label 'CEO Office' on it. Moon took out the keycard they took from the grunt on a lower story, and swiped it through the device next to the door. Holding their breaths, they watched the lights blinking on it.

Torcteakem was a new company that had set up in Ula Ula, offering Pokemon grooming and care services. Supposedly they were famous in Kanto, and had come to Alola to open a branch. But Moon didn't recognize their name, and she felt suspicious. Soon, she realised that 'Torcteakem' was an anagram of 'Team Rocket'. But on the surface, the company didn't do anything wrong, so they had no proof that it was anything but a coincidence.

So the kahunas decided to send her to infiltrate their headquarters there, to search for incriminating evidence that could prove that they were up to illegal activities. Knowing Team Rocket's reputation, it would be dangerous for Moon to go alone, so Gladion decided to go with her. They sneaked in after closing hours, when most of the people in the company had knocked off work. But none of the other rooms yielded any positive results for their search. When they were discovered poking in an exec's office by a security guard that threatened to throw them out, they battled him, beat him, and stole his keycard.

Moon sighed in relief when the light turned green, and the lock clicked. Gladion turned the doorknob, and they walked in. The room was huge and spacious, with a shiny polished redwood desk in the rear. Dark red blinds covered the clear glass wall on one side. Bookshelves filled with books and document files lined another wall. A maroon carpet covered the whole floor, muting their footsteps.

Gladion tossed a Pokeball, sending Lucario out. "Keep an ear out for anyone approaching, okay, boy?"

"Lucariiiiiii!!" His Pokemon nodded in agreement. They began searching the room, combing through papers and lists.

"Everything seems to be clean here," muttered Gladion, searching through the drawers of the desk. "Literally. He doesn't even have loose documents on the table."

"Cleaner than yours?" said Moon, teasingly, as she tossed a file to the ground and grabbed another file. "Guess the boss here actually completes his paperwork on time! Who'd have thought that's possible?"

Gladion rolled his eyes, snapping the last drawer shut. "Just get on with your searching." He walked over to a tall, thin closet with twin doors. Opening it, he snorted, "Wow, this guy keeps extra suits here. All ironed, too."

"Gotta look professional if they're trying to hide their criminal status, you know?" said Moon, throwing more files onto the carpet.

"If you mess the shelves up, they're gonna know that intruders were here," said Gladion warningly.

"Oh, it'll be fine, you worry too much," said Moon. "Nobody ever remembers exactly where everything is. Unless..." She suddenly froze for a long second, then looked over at the closet, her blue eyes bright. She rushed over and pushed the hanging blazers aside, revealing several more files hidden in a hollow behind the false back. "Unless they're in a veeeeery specific place."

Gladion took the files at once. Flipping one open, he scanned the first page, and whistled.

"We got them," he said, flicking a finger at the 'R' logo in the top right corner. "Phase Three, abduct Pokemon from the Aether Conservation Area... Ha. I'd like to see them try."

"Easy there, President. I don't think---"

Suddenly, Lucario barked. Gladion immediately dropped the files he was holding and rushed to the pile in front of the shelves, shoving them back into place as quickly as he could. Moon ran over to help.

"Okay, you were right, I shouldn't have done this. He hasn't returned to the office after work hours for the last three days, so why today!"

"We're out of time," muttered Gladion, looking around the room desperately. His eyes fell on the open doors of the closet. "Go grab the Rocket files, quick!" The blond turned and returned Lucario to his Pokeball.

Moon gathered the files into her arms with slightly shaking hands. "You think we can fight our way through?"

"No, I hear a crowd of them. We'd be outnumbered. Get in!!"

"What?!"

Before Moon could stop him, Gladion dragged her into the closet. Her eyes widened in panic as he pulled the doors shut, and the darkness surrounded them. Just in time, for the locking mechanism beeped, and the office door opened. A loud babble of voices came through, and Gladion strained to listen to what they were saying, when the suddenly loud breathing in front of him caught his attention.

"Sh!" he hissed as softly as he could. But the breathing sounds became louder and faster, and he reached out uncertainly. His hand landed on one trembling shoulder.

"Moon?" mumbled Gladion. "Are you.... claustrophobic?"

"...'m okay... okay..."

She obviously wasn't, Gladion thought in horror. On top of that, if she continued hyperventilating, they could be discovered. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close, the hard files in her arms digging uncomfortably into his chest. Moon leaned against him, still trembling.

"Relax. You're safe with me. I won't let anything happen to you," he breathed into her ear. Moon swallowed as he stroked her back reassurringly. In the darkness of the closet, with only a sliver of light coming from the crack between the closet doors, Gladion was acutely aware of her soft curves pressed against him, of the lavendar-scent wafting from her smooth skin. Between the thick fabric of hanging suits, the air was hot and stuffy, and he felt his body grow warmer every second with the proximity of the brunette in his embrace.

God, stop being such an idiot, he scolded himself, sternly. She's suffering right now, and we're in trouble if the grunts outside hear us. This is no time to think of... things...

But it was so hard, especially when Moon turned her face upwards towards him. She was so close, he could feel her breath against his lips.

"...the boss not coming yet?"

"...tied up... on the way up now..."

"...in the... Fourth Lab.."

"Gladion..." whispered Moon, and his heart squeezed at the pain in her voice. He had to do something, anything, to distract her from the pain. Before he realized what he was doing, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Moon responded at once, molding her lips to his. She tasted of sweet malasada, and rose tea. Sliding one hand up her slender back, he cupped her cheek, tilting her head slightly. Willingly, she opened her mouth to him, and her trembling finally began to cease.

He took the kiss deeper, and she savoured the distracting and very pleasant sensations. Her hands, trapped between his chest and the files she was holding, ached to touch him the way he was touching her, stroking her cheek gently with one thumb, carressing her back with the other. Instead, she met his questing tongue with her own, and smiled when he groaned into her mouth.

The slamming of a door startled them, and they broke apart. Blinking, the world came back into focus around them, and they realized that the room was now completely silent, apart from their ragged breathing.

Cautiously, Gladion pushed open the closet door, and looked out.

"They're gone," he said, feeling rather mortified at the hoarseness of his voice. Moon cleared her throat nervously.

"Right. We should go," she squeaked in a small voice, stepping out of the closet. Gladion glanced across at her furiously blushing face, knowing that his own was just as red. Without another word, they left the room. Neither dared to meet the other's eyes.

But, as they headed towards Kukui's lab, neither could stop replaying the moment in their minds, nor deny the fact that that they found themselves longing for more.

[bee-kathony]

FOUR YEARS - YEAR TWO | “August 18th, 2015″

The First Year | January 5th, 2015 | February 9th, 2015 | March 24th, 2015 | April 17th, 2015 | May 7th, 2015 | June 16th, 2015 | June 21st, 2015

August 18th, 2015

I thought that the honeymoon phase would last longer than it did.

Jamie and I had only been married a little more than two months, it’d been a year since I was tumor free and I was looking forward to going back to work twice a week next month.

If only we hadn’t gone out to lunch to celebrate my tumor free brain. If only… if only…

++++++

“What do you want to eat, Sassenach? Yer choice,” Jamie smiled as we walked out to the car. It was a beautiful day, and the first time this month that Jamie had spare time away from work to celebrate my diagnosis of being tumor free.

“Hmmm, how about that little place on Home Street? With the really good pancakes!” Licking my lips in anticipation, I got in the passenger seat.

“The cafe that ye stuffed yer face at?” Jamie laughed, starting the car and headed in the direction of Cafe Class.

“I did not stuff my face!” I gasped, eyes wide. “The blueberry syrup was delicious yes, but I did not stuff my face, I ate them in a graceful way.” Jamie laughed, his eyes crinkling like they always did when he was really happy.

“I’m so happy, Sassenach… to be here wi’ ye,” he said a moment later, his left hand sliding over my knee. I brushed my finger over his ring, feeling the cool metal against my skin, blushing when I remembered our recent nuptials.

“I’m very happy too, Jamie.” I placed a kiss on the back of his hand and his lips curved softly. I would never tire of seeing him smile.

We got to the cafe and thankfully it wasn't busy, so we took the table nearest the window, looking out at the street. People watching was one of my favorite things to do — imagining their lives, the little details that make up a person. I was doing just this while I waited for our pancakes to arrive — Jamie had stepped outside to take a work phone call, mouthing “sorry” as he walked out the door.

I was looking at a woman coming down the street, noticing how cute her jacket and shoes were, wondering where she got them from, when she stopped suddenly in front of Jamie. She pulled her sunglasses off, resting them on top of her head, short curly hair much like mine. My heart squeezed as Jamie saw her, muttered something into his phone, hung up and gave her a hug. A familiar, yet tense hug.

My eyes were focused on them, unable to tear away my gaze until Jamie turned towards the window, pointing at me and I blushed, trying to make it look like I hadn’t just been gawking. Then my palms started to sweat as they both came through the door of the cafe — Jamie, kind as ever, holding the door open for her.

I stayed seated, legs crossed, my left hand with my wedding ring resting on the top of the table. Jamie looked at me, his eyes wide and his ears pink. Christ… who was this woman to him?

I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Hi, I’m Gia.” She stuck her small hand out and I shook it. My eyes shifted from her face to Jamie’s and I saw him shrug, as if his shirt were too tight. “You’re Claire, right?”

“Yes,” I found my voice. “Jamie’s wife.” I thought I saw her flinch slightly at the word ‘wife’ but I could have been making things up.

“Aye, Claire and I just got married in June!” Jamie chimed in. About time lad.

Gia smiled, resting her hand on the back of Jamie’s arm, “Oh that’s great! Congratulations you two.” I wanted to yank her hand off of my husband’s arm, but I also didn’t want to cause a scene. The next words out of her mouth caught me so off guard, I knew if I had been standing, I would have fainted.

“Hope your wedding went a lot better than ours did!” Gia laughed awkwardly, looking up at Jamie, but his eyes were fixed on me… gauging my reaction.

I sat still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.

“It went just fine, thank you,” I replied shortly, crossed my arms over my chest, and bit the inside of my cheek to stop the tears that would inevitably come. Jamie was married before? To this woman?

A million thoughts raced through my head, and I was too busy staring at my fingers in my lap to notice that Gia had left and Jamie was now standing in front of me.

“Sassenach… we need to talk.”

“Fuck you,” I said quietly for the sake of the people around us and stood up, brushing past him and nearly ran out the door, in a hurry to escape the nightmare that had become my life.

++++++

Jamie found me sometime later, sitting on the same park bench that we had shared our first kiss at. Why had I bloody come here of all places?

Tears threatened to spill down my cheeks when I saw the tips of his shoes approach. He stood there, waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t have any words for him — no words at least, that would do any good.

“Claire,” he took a step forward, his hand reaching under my chin, but I pushed it away, my stomach in knots at the feeling of his skin on mine. Only two months ago, we had promised to love one another, to not keep secrets, and to not tell lies.

This was a secret I didn’t understand and I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to get over.

“Claire, please,” his voice wavered and I finally looked up to see his eyes red, full of tears of his own. “Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” I felt weak, as if every emotion I had ever felt in my life had been sucked out of me — a hollow shell.

“Somethin’, anythin’… please tell me what’s goin’ on in that wee head of yers.” Jamie bent his legs, and fell forward onto his knees to the grass, his hand hovering to touch my knee, but he pulled back when he saw my expression.

“You were m-married?” I stuttered on the last word. “For how long?”

Jamie took a deep breath and laughed. Laughed! If we weren’t in a public place, I would have hit him against his chest, clawed at his skin, anything to make him hurt as he had hurt me by keeping this from me.

“No, Sassenach. I wasna married to Gia, but we were engaged,” he sighed and rose to his feet, his fingers tapping against his thigh. I focused on his ring finger, trying to remember the vows he had made me, trying to remember the shit we had been through… anything that would help me to keep loving him. In this moment I very much wanted to hate him.

“Then why did she say wedding as if it happened?”

“Because…” he took a deep breath and muttered something in gaelic. “Because I left her at the altar.”

I finally looked up at him, “What? Jamie… how could you do that to her? Why?”

Taking it as a good sign that I had made eye contact with him, Jamie came and took a seat next to me on the bench, still a good safe distance away however.

“I ken it sounds bad, and I’m no proud of what I did. I’ll never forgive myself for it, but damn it, Sassenach… I dinna regret it!” Jamie grabbed my hand, shaking it slightly in his. “If I had never left the church that day, then I wouldna have met you.”

I pulled back my hand firmly, squeezing it in my lap. “All this time though Jamie. Not just you… but your family, Jenny and Murtagh. Wait,” I paused, trying to do the math in my head. “When was this? Before or after the plane crash?”

“After.”

“Jamie… how long ago,” I didn’t want to know but I knew I needed to.

“I knew Gia from university, that’s where we met,” Jamie said and leaned back against the bench as he began to tell me everything. “After the plane crash, I wasna myself. Once I recovered from most of the damage, I went back to school, but ye ken that I wasna speakin’ to Jenny and barely Murtagh.”

I nodded, keeping my gaze transfixed on a butterfly on a flower nearby and Jamie continued.

“Gia…” he sighed, and I could see him running his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in places. “She is the complete opposite of ye, Claire. I knew from our first date that she wasna my type and that I was only seein’ her to try and get away from the pain. After my Da —“ his words got stuck in his throat, and silently, without looking at him, I slid my hand across the bench, offering this small gesture and he took it, squeezing lightly.

“Ye wouldn’t have liked who I was back then, Sassenach. I was bitter, and no a verra nice person. I ken I never shoulda proposed to her, but she kept talkin’ about weddin’s and well I didn’t see why not.”

I wanted to cry at the soft touch of Jamie’s fingers on the palm of my hand. The same touch I had felt hundreds of times before. The same strong hands that had helped me when I felt weak and couldn’t get out of bed.

“So you got all the way to the altar and then decided that was the best time to break it off?” I spat out, maybe a bit too harshly and I felt Jamie’s fingers pause on mine before continuing to trace patterns on my skin.

“Aye. I did. I was a coward, Claire.” Jamie slid towards me on the bench, bringing my hand into his lap. I was too numb to move, to do anything but sit there and listen. “I met Gia five months after the plane crash, I was only nineteen and by my twentieth birthday, we had plans to be marrit. She hasna even met Jenny or Murtagh, mo ghraidh, that’s why they never said anything.”

“So they don’t know about her either, Jamie?” I looked at him, more tears welling in my eyes. Who was this man that I had married…

His eyes were wide, sensing my doubt in him. “Christ, of course they know! I told them the day after I left Gia. I wasna willin’ to make amends wi’ them yet, but I needed them to know.”

“Did Jenny yell at you?” I attempted a laugh, imagining what the fearsome Jenny Murray would think about all of this.

“No. She only said she was sorry she couldna be there for me. The conversation wasna a long one, Claire.” He pulled my hand to rest over his heart and I looked at him, biting my bottom lip. “I’m so sorry.”

“After everything we’ve been through Jamie… I just don’t understand why you never told me.” A single tear slid down my cheek and I felt it drop onto my lap, wetting my jeans.

“There’s no good reason why I didna, Sassenach,” Jamie bent his head. “I am a coward, that’s all there is to it.”

“I went through having a bloody fucking brain tumor and you don’t think the fact that you had almost been married to another woman was important to tell me? Yes, Jamie… you’re a coward.” I pulled my hand away and stood from the bench.

“And to think,” I looked him in the eye. “We were so excited about getting on the adoption list,” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t dream of bringing a child into this… this web of lies!” Turning to leave, I prayed that Jamie wouldn’t follow me, but a larger part of me, the weaker part of me, wanted him to run after me and hold me in his arms, begging me to forgive him.

I made it all the way back to the car in front of the cafe, and with no sign of Jamie, I climbed in and headed home, my heart in pieces.

++++++

August 18th, 2015

5:08pm

I walked around for hours after Claire had left me at the park. The moment she called me a coward, her eyes no longer holding that spark I had come to love, I knew… she would never forgive me for this.

Or at least not easily.

Checking my phone every ten minutes, with no new messages from Claire, I steadied myself and started walking in the direction of our house. There was more she needed to know, and I hoped she would hear me out.

The water was on in the bathroom, most likely Claire runnin’ herself a bath. I didn’t want her to be shocked at my arrival home, so I slammed the door a little louder than normal and waited in the doorway until I heard the sound of the faucet creak and stop.

I walked down the hallway, past pictures of our life together. We’d only known each other for twenty months, but already those twenty months were the best of my life — no matter the hardships we had endured early on. Claire wasn’t in the bedroom, but I saw the bathroom door cracked open, steam drifting out.

“Sassenach, are ye in there?”

“Go away, Jamie. I can’t do this right now.” She didn’t sound like herself, not like my Sorcha.

“Please, ye dinna even need to come out of the bathroom, Claire. I just need to say somethin’ and then I’ll go and stay wi’ Jenny and Ian tonight.” I waited for her and let out a sigh of relief when she opened the bathroom door, padded across the room and took a seat on the bed.

“Go ahead, then.”

“I thought of tellin’ ye, Claire.” I walked over to her, sitting on my knees in front of her, ready to beg for her forgiveness. “I did. I almost told ye once, but then ye got diagnosed wi’ yer tumor and things happened so quickly after that.”

“You’re using my tumor as an excuse for your cowardice?” She rolled her eyes, biting her lip.

“No! Christ, no I’m not. It’s just that I didna want to cause ye more pain. Claire… be honest wi’ me, would ye have wanted me to tell ye about this when ye were ill?”

She took a deep breath, folding her robe tighter around her body. “No. But, I got better a year ago, Jamie. What about then?”

“I can’t give you a reasonable explanation other than as time went on, and the happier you became, I couldn’t dream of crushin’ ye, of hurtin’ ye,” my heart was racing, pounding out of my chest. I didn’t know what I would do if Claire couldn’t forgive me.

“I can try and understand that,” she looked down at me, her eyes and cheeks wet and it broke my heart to see her so. All I wanted was to hold her in my arms and promise to never hide anything from her ever again.

“Thank ye, Sassenach I —“

“I said try, Jamie. I didn’t say that I do or that I ever will.”

“Please, mo nighean, I’m a foolish man and I ken I’ve kept a secret from ye when we promised there would be no such thing between us.” I moved forward, gently resting my hand on her ankle. “But I didna marry her… I married you.”

Claire made a sound then that broke my heart completely. A sob like none I had ever heard from her, not even when she was in the most pain from her chemo. I looked up at her to see her shoulders shaking, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. I didn’t care if she tried to push me away, I rose to my feet and gathered her in my arms, sitting down on the bed and cradled her to my chest.

“Shhh,” I said through tears of my own. “I love you, mo cridhe, it’s you I chose and it’s ye who I’ll choose everyday.”

She buried her head into my neck, body still trembling.

“Claire, we’ve been through so much to let this come between us, I’m beggin’ ye lass,” I cried, my voice shaking. “Please forgive me for a mistake I made when I was an idiot. Christ —“

Her hand came to cup my face, and I weeped at the feel of her touch. “I dinna deserve ye, Claire.”

“No,” she whispered. “You don’t.” Her arms came around my neck then and I rose from the edge of the bed and laid her down, and then curled my body around hers. “Just hold me, Jamie. We’ll work this out tomorrow, but for now… just don’t let me go.”

That night, I cried until I had no more tears left to give and held her in my arms, thanking God that she hadn’t cursed my name and sent me out to the streets. Hours later, a small wet nose tickled the back of my neck and Annie, the furry wee beast crawled over my body to lay next to Claire, resting her head against her. Animals are loyal creatures… humans — they are flawed, and broken creatures.

[itschesestik]

Nothing Like Us

synopsis: it’s the anniversary of a tragic accident that left jungkook changed forever

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff angst

word count: 4.2k

warnings: major character death

The night was odd. It was too cold to be summer and the skies that should’ve been filled with stars, were clouded. Jungkook sat against the railing of to the balcony connected to his hotel room. Everyone knew what day it was so they opted to leave him alone. His eyes stared off into nothing while he propped one arm up on his left knee that laid flush against his chest.  His insides felt hollow, memories playing over and over again in his head.

“There’s nothing like us..There’s nothing like you and me together…” He closed his eyes as he softly sang out, leaning his head back as he travelled to the first day he met her.  

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The metronome ticked in the quiet band room. Y/N counted off the beats in her head. “1..2..3..4..” and begin to play. Her fingers moved gracefully over the strings, her hand moving the bow. The cello had always been her safe place. She drifted into another world as pla-

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

“Oooo, he put the moves on ya!”

Thunk. Thunk.

“Fake right, fake left. He shoots...he scores!!” It was them. She was interrupted yet again. With her head tilted back, a soft grown left her lips before she got out of her seat, setting her instrument down to the side. Her feet marched across the band room, swinging the door open and strutting over to the group of rowdy of boys in the hallway. Y/N hands crossed over her chest in annoyance once she stopped in front of them.

“If you don’t mind, some of us are trying to practice. Could you kindly take this racket someplace else?” She raised her right eyebrow, keeping a stern look on her face.

Jungkook’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice. His brown doe eyes glinting with mischief, listening intently to words leaving her lips. If he was gonna be honest, he heard her coming over to them from the first little groan she let out rooms away. Although she was angry, he still found beauty in her face. He always had seen beauty in her, no matter what she was doing. It could be considered stalkerish, seeing as he had been watching her for months now but he couldn’t help himself. The moment Jungkook laid eyes on her, he never wanted to look awake. Nevertheless, he still sent a smirk towards his friends before approaching her.

“If you manage to get the ball from me, we’ll go away.” That conniving smirk still playing on his lips as he bounced the ball in her direction. 

Y/N immediately tossed the ball right back, a scowl appearing on her face. She nodded in agreement, moving into the open hallway. At this point, she would do anything to get them out of her way. “Just get the ball…” Y/N thought to herself, taking a deep breath in and then out. “Just get the damn ball, take it away from him and you can go back to your music. It’s that simple.”

Jungkook’s eyes filled with playfulness, seeing her agree to his offer. He felt like a puppy being played with finally(like a puppy, how ironic). Dribbling the ball next to him, Jungkook faked left and then right as she tried to reach for the basketball. Jungkook moved to a new position where he was switching the ball underneath his legs. Y/N reached once more only for him to fake again, and she ending up falling onto her hands and knees. Embarrassment flowed through her body, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red while Jungkook’s friends snickered behind him. Jungkook held out his hand to help her up, remorse showing clear on his face. He never wanted to make her fall, those were never his intentions. She grimaced at the sight of his hand and stood up on her own, wiping her hands off on her jeans.

“Just forget it.”

A small huff left her lips, her arms crossing back over her chest before she walked back. Upon entering the room again, Y/N let the door slam shut behind her. Her back pressed against the door, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks. Quickly, she tried to compose herself with long breaths, and soon headed back over to her seat.

Jungkook was listening in. He had picked up on how fast her heart rate was when she walked away from them. It was clear to his friends what he was doing, his face zoned out and concentrated on something. He heard the few sniffles coming from her lips before the long breaths until she calmed down. Not long after, the beautiful music she played all the time filled his ears. Jungkook needed to hear more. He absently tossed the ball back to his friends, not paying them any attention as he walked away towards the door she had previous left. Taehyung went forward to stop him but he was quickly pulled back by Jimin and Yoongi with a shake of their heads, letting him know he need to just let JK be. The doors swung open with a loud bang against the wall. Jungkook underestimated his strength once again. He had a painful look on his face before finally making a move to look over at her. There was an irritated look on her face, one eyebrow raised as she looked over at him.

“Can I help you?” Y/N puffed out her cheeks, dropping into a slouch poster.

“Yeah. I was just uh..wondering if I get your name?” Jungkook let a playful smirk make its way onto his lips as he stepped more into the room, the doors shutting much quieter this time behind him. 

“And I should tell you because? So you can keep bugging me? Yeah, no thanks.” She rolled her eyes and sat back up, straightening her position once more. “Could you leave? I have to practice.” Y/N hoped he would leave, thus she placed the bow against the strings, beginning to play once again.  

She hoped wrong.

Before the first chords of music could finish, Jungkook was clearing his throat while he leaned against the piano. Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh, turning her attention towards him.

“If you can play one instrument in here, correctly might I add, then I’ll tell you my name. Only in hopes that you’ll leave after.” She raised an eyebrow, letting her body fall back into the chair. “There’s no way someone like him can play an instrument.” Y/N thought to herself, a smirk on her face. Jungkook picked up on it even though he was scanning through the shelves of instruments. Abruptly, he stops, spotting the thing he was looking for.

“You said any instrument right?” “Mmmhm.”

Jungkook spun around to face her, a triangle in his hand and gave it a soft “ding” with the biggest cocky grin on his face. Y/N looked at him with a pissed off look on her face. She soon busted out in complete laughter, so much so that it began to hurt her sides all the while a huge smile was forming from ear to ear. Y/N found humor in what had just happened, not expecting it at all.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” Her voice came out in between laughs.

Jungkook stood there, quite confused at first with how fast her mood changed but soon enough he was smiling right along with her.  He wasn’t able to take his eyes off her. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

It went as all love stories go. Jungkook kept showing up in that small room. Y/N kept feigning annoyance by him. This went on for weeks. Jungkook skipped many practices just to be in that room with her, hear her play that beautiful music. They grew closer, every break or chance they got was spent together. No longer was Jungkook watching her across the room during lunch period, he was actually spending his time next to her. Not soon after, he was beginning to reveal secrets of his own.

“I’m not that good at singing...I mean I can carry a tune. I mostly just sing in the shower” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, a bit embarrassed as he spoke. He hadn’t meant to show his hidden talent to her. It just kind of slipped out.

Y/N looked over at him doe eyed, pushing her hair out of her face. It was only a few seconds but it was still too long to be staring. She shook her head, pulling herself out of the phase she was in. “Here, I’ll play something I came up with a few years ago, see if you can find some words for it.” Y/N spoke quietly as she made her way towards the piano.

“I didn’t know you played piano too..”

“It was the first instrument I learned how to play.” She responded, a soft smile appearing right as her fingers began to go over the keys and play the first set of chords.

Jungkook was overcome with awe, watching as Y/N’s eyes closed whilst her fingers continued on playing. He began to hum softly, getting a feel for where she was in the song.

“I wish that I could give you what you deserve..cause nothing can ever, ever replace you..nothing can make me feel like you do..” He sung softly, getting into the music. 

Jungkook didn’t notice that she had stopped playing, too lost in himself and his thoughts. Once he finally opened his eyes, he saw Y/N staring back at him. A light pink produced onto his cheeks and caused him to look away. He wasn’t one to get embarrassed so easily, but the way she was looking at him had butterflies racing through his belly. Jungkook turned his head to face her again, met with her looking down at her lap. Without thinking, he reached forward and hooked his finger underneath her chin, pulling her head up to look at him. There was a small smile on his face before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. It didn’t take long for her lips to move back against his. 

It was history after that. The couple was practically inseparable from there on. The teen love story everyone wanted. Weekends spent together, cute love notes in the lockers, doodles of the others names on notes in class and surprises every other day. It was sickeningly cute to say the least.

“C’mon Y/N!! If you jump now, they won’t be able to notice that you’re gone!” Jungkook was whisper shouting. He was trying to remain quiet as possible considering her parents were still asleep.

Y/N was hesitant. She had never snuck out before but she wanted so badly to be with him tonight. Her head looked over her shoulder in one last attempt to make sure her parents wouldn’t come busting in during the last second. With a soft sigh, she threw one leg out of the window and then the other, jumping down where she was caught by two strong arms. Jungkook pecked her lips lightly a few times, a huge smile spreading on his lips after. He was taking her to one of his favorite spots. It was a little shed on the edge of his family’s property. The shed had the perfect view of the moon and stars when you sat on the roof. Once he got them both situated up there, Jungkook wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to his body. 

“Kook?” Y/N spoke up after a few minutes of silence, waiting for him to hum in response. “Why do you like me?” She turned her head to look at him now, watching his face turn into a confused expression. “Why do you like me..?” 

“Well..uh..why do you think I do?” 

Jungkook didn’t know how to respond to her questions. Honestly, he could go on for hours and even days about why he liked her. He even considered the possibility that he loved her. The question itself confused him, why would she question that, did she think he didn’t like her anymore?

“Honestly, at first I thought you only liked me because I didn’t like you..” Her words were quiet but he heard them anyway. He studied her face, even though she had dropped her gaze away from him at this point. Still, Jungkook used his finger to pull her chin up so she looked at him. “I’ve liked you since I saw you at freshman orientation two years ago..from the way you smile,  to the way you walk, to the way you push your hair out of your face when you’re angry all the way down to the way you bounce on your toes when you’re anxious. I like it all.” Jungkook leaned forward after his little monologue and pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. Y/N brought her hand up to lay against his cheek, rubbing her thumb over it as they continued to kiss. He slowly began to lean her back, until she laid flat against the roof. Jungkook hovered over her, propping himself up on his elbows, deepening their kiss. A small whine escaped her throat as he nipped at her bottom lip, begging for entrance, which she would soon grant him. His tongue would gain dominance over hers in no time but it was cut short, a sound in the distance immediately pulling him away from her to listen.

“Kook? What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, moving her body away from his so she could sit up. “I don’t hear anything, are you okay?” She grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. Instead of the brown hues she was used too, yellow one shined back at her before he quickly looked away from again.

Once Jungkook calmed himself, he looked at her. “We have to go now.” He spoke worriedly. Jungkook quickly got them down from the roof and into his car, speeding away as fast as he could. He knew she had questions about his eyes and what the hell was going but for now, he was thankful she was staying quiet. He didn’t know what was coming but the noises he was hearing struck pure fear through him. Right now, he needed to get her home safely and return to his home before anything bad happened. 

Jungkook disappeared for weeks. He wasn’t returning any of her calls or texts and he hadn’t been at school. The first week was hard but eventually, Y/N fell back into the routine she had before him. She only went to band room for her breaks, sat alone for her lunch period and stayed to herself in between classes.

“Hyung..She needs me..” Jungkook spoke quietly, observing Y/N from the rooftop of the school. “Why can’t I tell her that I’m okay? She deserves to know..”

Yoongi stood quietly next to his little brother, an irritated look on his face. He was so tired of hearing JK go on and on about this girl. That’s all that had been talked about since they went off the grid. Yoongi was sick of explaining that remaining hidden was the best option for now, that she would be safer this way. With a loud groan, he turned to face his brother, leaning against the railing.

“Mom said that it’s better for everyone right now. That Alpha pack has crazy enemies after them right now. It’s just safer this way. She wouldn’t be able to protect herself...unless..” A sinister smirk crept onto his face as he talked. Yoongi knew exactly what he was doing. He would put the thoughts in his brothers head but there’s no way any of the Alphas would go through with it. She was too fragile, there was no way the bite would take. Still, why not have some fun while he was at it? If anything, it does work and he has to hear JK go on about her for longer. “We do have that entire pack here..they could easily bite her and turn her into one of us. You could always protect her then, train her and make sure she can help herself. Don’t you think it’d be amazing. Hmm?” Yoongi pressed on, watching the quizzical look on his little brothers face and how he was actually considering having someone bite his precious little girlfriend.

“Yoongi-hyung, you’ve gone crazy.” Jungkook laughed, patting his brothers shoulder. “I couldn’t ask her to turn into one of us. Especially when she doesn’t even know WHAT we are or what being one of us entails. She couldn’t survive her first full moon, she’s too weak.”

Jungkook walked away from his brother, not bothering to hear his final words. His head shook lightly as he made his way home, not believing he was actually considering turning the love of his life into one of them. Lycan. It was nothing special, their being alone was torture. They had to deal with being hunted all the time on top of those painful turns once a month when the moon reached its fullness. He couldn’t ask that from Y/N. He would never want that life for her. Yet, all he could think about was what if she could handle it? What if she did just fine with it all? Would his precious Y/N be able to be his forever? He let his heart take charge over his mind as he pulled out his phone. After dialing a number, he put the phone to his ear, letting out a deep sigh after the receiver picked up.   

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Hey babe. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I promise I’m still here. Family matters came up. Meet me in the band room tonight. 8pm. -Kook”

Y/N’s heart was beating so fast. She had to read the letter over and over again before finally comprehending what it was saying. Her head looked around at all the students around her, wondering when he had the time to slip this in. Y/N had to admit that she missed him more than anything and to finally hear from him made her heart flutter. With a nod, she closed her locker and held the note close to her chest while she walked to her next class.

The time seemed to fly by fast for him while the day went on agonizingly slow for her. It seemed like minutes turned to hours and the hours went so slowly but still the night was light. As soon at the clock hit 7:50pm, she was out the door, shouting to her parents about some last minute study session for one of her classes. Her car pulled up to the school at exactly 8. She quickly ran inside using the back door that had always been broken. Y/N was out of breath by the time she got to the band room, a huge smile on her face once she swung open the doors. “Jungkook! I miss-”

Nobody was there. Her face fell immediately once she realized he wasn’t in the room like he had promised he would be. Unbeknownst to her, Jungkook sat on the floor below in the locker rooms, listening. He could hear how fast her heart was beating, taking him back to that first day. Yet, he could also hear the footsteps of the heavy footed guy coming closer to Y/N. It took all of his power not to run to her and stop this before it started.

It was too late. Jungkook heard her breathing pick up, she must have turned around and seen the man. He stood at 6’4 height, almost double her size in both height and weight. She let out a blood curdling scream as he launched himself at her. Jungkook covered his ears after that, doing his best to block out the noise that was too come. His hands didn’t help.

Y/N was able to escape his initial attack, making a run for it past the gym and into the main part of the school. “Please help me, somebody help me..” She thought as she ran, trying to make it out the door and to her car as quick as possible. Her hand reached for the door and just as her fingertips touched the handle, she was ripped away and thrown to the side. She tried to drag her body away from the oncoming footsteps, screaming out for someone to help her. The man came up behind her, stopping her in her tracks. He held her down and pulled her shirt up, exposing her abdomen. “Please..Don’t do this..Please..” She begged one last time, looking him in the eyes.

The scream that came out made Jungkook fall down to his knees. He gasped for air, feeling like the wind was knocked out of him. He had to help her. The doors to the locker room slammed open when he took off to where the noise was coming from. Blood, he could smell the blood coming from her. Right as he entered the hallway, the alpha stood over her body, a wicked grin on his face while he took a defensive state. Jungkook charged at him, howling in pain when the elders claws made contact with his skin. He did his best to fight back, getting as many hits in as he could, all while his eyes searched for Y/N. She was making her way up the stairs, holding onto the gushing wound. Out of nowhere, Yoongi kicked in the doors to the entrance and began shouting at Jungkook to get Y/N out of here. The older brother fought off the alpha as long as he could, giving the couple a chance to escape. 

They were both covered in a mixture of red and black. The red from the first bite and the black from her body rejecting it. Pain. Y/N was in so much pain. It’s like she could feel every fiber in her body rejecting itself, the black mixture beginning to pool out of her mouth. Jungkook took her to the shed, pulling the doors closed behind them. He collapsed on the floor, holding her in his arms. He took his bloody hand and intertwined it with hers, squeezing it tightly.

“Do you hate me..?” Jungkook asked, tears beginning to stream down both their faces knowing what was to come next. 

“I could never hate you..” Y/N’s voice was quiet, much softer than normal, it was weak. “I knew..I knew what you were..you could hear things, smell things, see things nobody else could..the eyes, I really knew when I saw your eyes and still, I-I loved you..”

“You loved me?” Jungkook looked down at her, his bottom lip quivering just a bit.

Y/N nodded her head softly right before the pain got worse. She squeezed his hand so tightly, a loud moan of pain leaving her lips. Her body was starting to shake as the rejection wreaked havoc all over her body. Jungkook pulled her closer, pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, wanting somehow to ease the pain from her body.

“I-I can’t do it..” Y/N cried out, her head shaking back and forth before looking up at him, looking deep into his eyes. “Please Kook..”

Jungkook broke eye contact with her, looking away from her as tears filled his eyes. He knew what he had to do but it wouldn’t make it be easier. With a shaky breath, he changed their position, one arm wrapped around her waist while the other was wrapped around the back of her neck. Jungkook took a deep breath and began to hum the tune to the song she wrote. He wanted to put her at ease. When she started to hum back to the best of her abilities, he stopped, just listening to her go on. His eyes changed to that same bright yellow from before. Jungkook’s arms tightened around her, listening to her hum as his hold got tighter and tighter until she fell limp in his arms. Jungkook couldn’t help but yell out in agony while he held her close to him, tears steadily pouring down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He panted, not wanting to let go of her body even though the hands she originally had wrapped around his arm had fallen to the ground, lifeless. Every memory they had together played through his mind while he rocked them back and forth, eventually settling on the one he liked most. He cleared his throat, bringing her cold body closer to his as he sang.

“I-I wish I could give you what you deserve...cause nothing can ever, ever replace you..nothing can make me feel like you do..there’s nothing like us, there’s nothing like you and me together..oh..” 

[sending-the-message]

Has your shadow ever behaved like this? by smarteque

It was a normal sunny day in my small town in the middle of nowhere when I first noticed my shadow wasn’t mimicking my movements, like shadows always do. It was little things I noticed at first – as I walked I’d move my right hand but the shadow of my left hand would mimic. I’d tilt my head to the left and my shadow would tilt its head to the right. I’d wave at someone with my hand, my shadow would stay still instead.

Once, as I was having lunch with friends at school, my shadow did something it hadn’t before – it got up and walked away from me, leaving me shadowless. It wasn’t glued to the ground anymore; it had stood up and was walking among the people at the cafeteria like a ghostly figure from another world. After a few seconds it turned around and waved at me. I stared at it unbelievably.

‘Are you okay Mia?’, asked Carrie who had obviously noticed I was staring blankly at something.

I think the shadow was calling me. I had to go.

‘Yeah, all good – gotta go, bye’, I said hastily and ran off after the shadow which had taken off again. I heard my friends murmur confusingly after me, wondering why I had left suddenly without even finishing my lunch.

My shadow took me to the backyard of the school, deserted at lunch. I sat down and opened a book. My shadow glued itself to the ground again. I had a feeling it was happy I was alone. I had a feeling it wanted me to stay there for the rest of the day, skip the rest of the classes and then go home – and so I did.

The next day was when I first heard my shadow whisper to me. I was walking to the school entrance when I saw my friends trying to catch my attention enthusiastically. ‘Mia! Over here! Where have you been?’, they were shouting and jumping up and down.

I had the real physical sensation that my shadow was pulling me away from them. Then I heard it: they don’t like you. They think you’re a loser. They’re not your real friends.

I believed it; I had to. It was my shadow after all. I didn’t want to make it angry. I trusted it more than my friends.

I quickly turned around and changed direction, leaving them staring at my back in mild shock.

That’s right, they’re better off without you, whispered the shadow. If you disappeared from their lives and set them free from the ever so annoying obligation to be around you and tolerate you, they’d be so much happier…

It made sense, I thought. I remembered all the times I was simply just moaning about my life, complaining about my parents, how unhappy at school I was, how I wanted to do something completely different with my life than what my parents were pushing me to do… it made all the sense. How annoying I must be; a real downer. No one deserved to listen to all that pathetic crap.

Carrie was calling me. I ignored it. They’re just feeling obliged… they’re feeling sorry for you… they’re selfishly guilty…

I put on some music and carried on reading my book, stretched on my bed.

Good girl.

I skipped school the next day. I still had to go out so that my parents didn’t become suspicious – so I just went to the park with my book.

Carrie tried calling me a few times and texted a ‘what’s going on with u? we’re v worried and a bit offended tbh x’ but I ignored it all.

I settled on a bench and opened my book, my shadow calmly resting on the ground in front of me. After about five minutes some guy around my age approached me and asked me if I had a spare cigarette.

My shadow woke up from its snooze and got up, looking at the stranger in a hostile way. I could tell from its sharp movements.

‘N-no, sorry’, I said and suggestively turned my eyes back to my book, glancing at my shadow quickly only to see it nod in approval.

‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’ said the guy, smiling at me as I looked up. ‘Is a lovely girl like you feeling okay, reading all on her own on this sad bench?’ he asked and flashed a friendly smile.

My shadow was now dangerously close to the stranger. It was holding the shadow of a knife pointed towards him and looking at me.

I got the message it was telling me. It wanted him gone, or else he’d suffer.

’I’m alright, thanks’, I said coldly. ‘Do you always approach people without an invitation?’

His smile turned upside down. ‘I was just being friendly. But I guess you’re not ready yet’, he said and walked away.

Unexpected anger overtook me and for the first time I wished I could talk to my shadow. Could you believe this guy? ‘You’re not ready yet’. Ready for what?

All I want is to be left alone and everywhere you go, there’s people demanding your attention for their own benefit… give me this, tell me that, be my friend, be my lover. So selfish. You don’t need anyone. My shadow nodded in such a violent approval that its shadowy head nearly fell off.

I closed my book with a loud snap and went for a walk in the opposite direction, my shadow dancing around my solitude.

————————————————

Eventually my friends stopped talking to me and we were pretty much like complete strangers. My shadow would make sure I stayed as far as possible, silent, in my own corner, whenever I did turn up for school. My grades started to get worse and worse and my parents were ranting at me on a regular basis. They didn’t know what to say, never really asked if everything was okay or if I was struggling. But it is your fault, of course, the shadow would whisper. They’re completely right. You are a waste of space. You shouldn’t have been born.

Additionally, the shadow began whispering that I would feel better and more in control of my worthless self if I could lose as much weight as possible, you fat blob, it hissed. I started counting calories and measuring portions. My waist shrunk, my cheeks hollowed and I could feel my own ribs sticking out painfully. Well done, fatty. But you have more work to do. Let them bones show, your skeleton is the only part of you that’s worth something.

It went on like this for a while until I eventually woke up one morning and my shadow was not letting me get up. I would try but it was physically impossible to pull myself up. So I laid there until I was late for school and my mum stormed in. I convinced her I wasn’t feeling well.

‘That’s it. We’re going to the doctors, now’, she announced. I looked at her, my eyes empty and my body aching with weakness.

‘I just have a bit of a cold, mum, nothing to worry about. Just need bed rest’, I mumbled and faked a faint cough.

‘A cold? Nonsense! I’ve been watching you lose weight for a while now, and as much as I was hoping it was a teenage phase, or a temporary thing, I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore. We are going to seek help, you’re obviously going through something’, she breathed out at once, her voice shaking with worry.

The shadow suddenly released its grip on me. I could move. But it had taken the shadow of the knife again, and this time it was pointing it towards me.

It was threatening me.

I jumped up from the bed at once and started pleading with my mum to reconsider.

‘No, no, mum, I promise, I will eat, I will go to school… just don’t make me go to the doctors, there’s no need… I am fine. Just a phase, as you said…’, I cried.

My mum looked at me with a grain of empathy and agreed to let me off the hook so I could get some rest.

‘But you’re going back to school tomorrow. No excuses. And you’ll have five nutritional meals today which I will watch you eat.’

My mum stayed home that day, watching every step I made. Eating was weird - I hadn’t eaten anything more than the occasional piece of cheese or half an apple, for a long time.

My shadow was casually holding the knife shadow at all times now. When I finished breakfast, it pointed it towards me threateningly again.

‘I’ll just go to the bathroom’, I told mum.

I went in there and made sure all of my food was out of my body. I wasn’t going to let calories take control over myself.

——————————————————

Next day my mum drove me to school and watched me go in. She had made an appointment with the school counsellor which I had to attend in the afternoon. I, of course, didn’t intend to do so. Not if I was risking my shadow doing something painful to me anyway. It could read my mind too, so I had to be careful what I was thinking at all times.

As soon as mum drove off, I went into the backyard to read - my usual solitary spot.

Except there was someone else there already. The annoying boy I had seen in the park months ago.

He smiled at me faintly. ‘Hey’, he said.

I rushed to turn around and find another spot, completely ignoring his greeting.

Until he spoke again.

‘I can see your shadow.’

I simultaneously froze and tried to catch my breath. My shadow had started to suffocate me, making me feel as if my throat was closing up while my heart was beating out of time, nearly exploding through my chest.

‘I can see it. I had one too’, he spoke again.

I was about to faint. But I managed to turn around slowly. I couldn’t say anything. I just looked at him like a frightened deer, my frail bones shaking with horror.

‘I know you believe what it tells you. I know you do what it says’, he continued. ‘But you don’t have to. It’s all lies. It will not do anything to you’.

I was now feeling sick, a monstrous amount of emotion bubbling up my body, trying to escape.

‘But you might. If you keep listening to it. I can see it has the knife, too. Mine had the knife. Then it had the gun. Which then turned into a real gun.’

I stared at him like he was the only person on this planet that existed at this particular moment.

‘It feeds you lies. It gives you the wrong ideas. It tells you to hurt yourself. Like it did to me. It didn’t hurt me. I did.’

Then he lifted up his shirt and I saw a big red scar on the left side of his chest.

We stood there in silence for what seemed like eternity. My breathing calmed down and my heart slowed. So much was getting clearer to me now. It felt like a cloak of darkness was lifting.

‘Can I buy you a coffee? Or perhaps a piece of cake?’, he asked suddenly. ‘You sure look like you need some cake.’

We had cake. We spoke. I told him everything.

And with every word my shadow was gluing itself to the ground inch by inch, until it disappeared. There was no sun in the coffee shop, of course.

[damnitaddie]

Holla Jesu Christe

[TW: Suicide] 

Standard mom stuff: If you’re thinking about suicide, please call 911 or go to the nearest emergency room.

So here we are again. I’m back staring at this screen. For a second there, I thought I had written my last entry. 

This post is a couple of things, which I’ll get to assuredly. This post is going to be the realist shit that I’m likely to share to a public audience ever again. By the time I’ve hit post here, I’ll still be alive. Thankfully. But I’ll be metaphorically naked in front of all of you. I am baring it all. What it’s not… is a cry for help, a ploy for attention, or an invitation to post a reply such as “I’m always here if you want to talk.”

Does that seem rude? It’s not intended to be. I know it’s what you say when you want to say something but you don’t know what to say. I just want people to know that I’m not the type that typically reaches out in that kind of way. The people who I reach to already know who they are. 

I am not posting this for my own good, but in the hope that it helps someone else pull the proverbial panic cord, pump their brakes, call a timeout, or whatever metaphor you find works best. For the people who don’t suffer from some sort of mental illness, maybe it brings better understanding. 

Throughout the post, I’m going to reference things that I’ve taken away from the Biodyne model of suicide assessment and prevention. I shouldn’t have to disclaim this, but of course, I’m not a doctor, I’m not a mental health professional. I’m just a person who struggles with her own mental health and who also sees others around her struggle with their own. Beyond that, the people who are left in the wake of disaster, the warm blanket of oblivion ripped rudely off of them in the night.  With that said, onward and upward, shall we? 

Starting sometime during the week of June 12th, thoughts of suicide started to creep into the forefront of my brain. They’re never far away, always lurking somewhere in shadows, waiting for a chance to seize the day. Waiting for the chance to become the all consuming thing that you can’t avoid, until they succeed in making you another statistic, a hash tag, a sad story. Or you “pump the brakes” and slow down long enough to take a look around. 

By the end of last weekend, it was more than a passing thought. It had taken up residence right in front of me. It was all I could see. I had entered what they refer to as Stage 1. This is not unfamiliar territory to me. I’ve been there a number of times, it normally passes pretty quick and I move along, sending a passing email to my therapist saying something like “Hey, this happened, I’m okay but I wanted you to know.” Then we could talk about it at my next session.

“Everyone has dark times — a story held in secret..”

Of course, this time, I didn’t do that. I didn’t send any emails. On the outside, I don’t think anyone could see the big black dog named depression that was following me around. Hell, I even went out and danced, something I don’t do, with random Lyft customers turned friends on Saturday night. I had fun. That’s the thing about depression. It’s not all sitting around, sulking and listening to Brand New and The Get Up Kids.  

By Tuesday, I had swiftly exited the ideation phase and was actively planning the end of my own life. I started putting together certain documents, keys, passcodes, passwords, blank checks and other things that I knew people would need in the wake of it all. I started on my “note.” What it ended up being, near as makes no difference, was a 4100 word of drivel. A long, sad tale that ranged from my own failings to the perceived failings of others. At times a scathing, no-holds-barred airing of grievances that only one other person has read at this point. I intend to keep it that way. 

Throughout my planning, I was even taking smaller details into consideration. Things that a stereotypical suicidal character on a Lifetime made for TV drama wouldn’t. I knew that more than anything, I didn’t want my kids to find me. I know that Grayson can sometimes be anywhere between 2-10 minutes faster than Megan to get inside my house. He doesn’t knock. Additionally, I didn’t want someone like the fire department to have to kick in a door. Someone would have to fix that later, right?

I even made a playlist. I’m not really sure who it was for. I think it was for me than anything. It started as 33 tracks and eventually I whittled it down to about 17. About the perfect length for a mix CD, 73 minutes. Of course, I didn’t have an optical drive in my laptop, and Spotify wasn’t going to let me burn it anyway.. but there it was. 

This happened all throughout the course of Tuesday afternoon and Thursday morning. The only thing that really kept me out of the third and final phase was that I didn’t have a time frame for when this was all supposed to go down. I had a mental to-do list of the things I needed to accomplish before I could even get to scheduling the end of the end. 

Tuesday evening, I went to dinner with Brian. We had wings and beer, as customary with the two of us.. I had been texting with a friend intermittently throughout the day, and as I understood, she was having a shitty afternoon. I invited her to come down and have a beer. She politely declined, as I expected. “Maybe next time,” I replied. It felt hollow, because I wasn’t expecting there to be a next time. A day late friend, I mused to myself. 

My short term memory is so bad, I don’t remember what I did Wednesday morning. I know at some point, I went to Home Depot to pick up something I would need. Utility knife blades. Then I went next door to Tumbleweed and had lunch by myself. I ordered my usual burrito and a beer. I sat at the bar alone. Both in physical presence and mentally. The mix of even a really low dose of Klonopin, only a sixth of what my former psychiatry nurse practitioner had prescribed, and the beer apparently was a bad choice.

As soon as I got home, I passed out. When I awoke, later that evening, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. Through out the night, I cried all the tears I had out as I worked on the playlists and the note.

Around 5am, the sun was rising and I felt satisfied with what I had written.  I hadn’t eaten dinner the night before and had been living off Coca-Cola and loud music. I got dressed and went to Waffle House by myself. I sat in a dirty booth that no one bothered to wipe down after the previous guests had departed. As I sat in a dirty booth, eating my breakfast, I started beginning to have a moment of clarity. I paid for my half-eaten meal, got back in my car and pulled out onto Bardstown Rd, thinking about all that had happened in the last 36 or so hours. I considered certain contradictions in what I was planning. My jaw and head ached from clenching my teeth throughout the night, having foregone any additional Klonopin to ease the anxiety.  

I pulled into the parking lot at Kroger, and went inside to buy some Ibuprofen. I couldn’t seem to locate the bottle at my house. Assuming either we had taken it all, or that it was sitting in a box somewhere in Rhode Island. 

As I exited the store, I realized that I hadn’t bought anything to drink to actually take the ibuprofen with. Sitting in my car, with the engine idling and the transmission in park. I considered going back inside to buy a coke. I felt to numb, too out of sorts to even bother. I opened the bottle and took two pills, swallowing them dry. 

Then instead of putting the car in drive and heading home, I pulled out my phone. I opened the app that I use to communicate with my doctor and I typed out the following message: 

Ok,

I’m officially pulling the fire alarm. This dizziness, lightheadedness, vertigo thing that I’ve got going on is starting to get out of control.

More importantly, certainly more time critical, is that I’ve passed through stage 2 of the biodyne model of suicidal thoughts. I know there’s nothing worse than having a Graduate of the Google School of Medicine for a patient, but I found this page:

And by my own self-assessment I’m at the completion of stage 2, entering stage 3, but not quite in what they call the “Auto pilot” mode. I considered going to the emergency room, but I haven’t, because well it seemed a little scary.

I’ve backed away from the proverbial ledge, but I’ve been up all night and realized at about 6am that I’ve amassed more than just a note, it’s 4100 words.

I’m safe right now, but I’m going to reach out now, in the interest of full disclosure, for better or worse.

Call, text, write. Love y’all.

–Addison

Then I went home and went to sleep and waited from a call from them. I was in contact with them throughout the day, as they checked in on me and went over my medications.  I should back up a bit and explain..

At the beginning of the month, I had visited because my fatigue was so bad that I couldn’t do anything productive. The doctor came up with a treatment plan, because she advised the combination of drugs he had prescribed had significant risks, including seizures. She tried to do it in such a way that the side effects of withdraw would be minimized, but still told me to stay close and let her know how it was going. Once I was tapered back to a safe dosage, we would reassess my treatment options. That appointment was/is scheduled for the first week of July.  However, the side effects had continued to get worse, the more I tapered down on the medication that was being eliminating. Even yesterday, I was still feeling disconnected and kind of dizzy. Like things getting to my brain were being passed through a wah-wah pedal first. 

Today is the first day in a long time, that I have a sense of clarity. I’ve got a touch of a headache, but at least I’m not clenching my jaw in an attempt to grind my teeth into a bloody pulp. It’s scary that I could have been a day too hasty in giving up. 

The Edge… There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.

Hunter S. Thompson - Hell's Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga

So there it is, my week. Why I’ve not been at work. Why I’ve been acting distant. Why I’ve been a bitch to a couple people, namely my mother. A lot of things. I quoted the verse “Let me tell you what I wish I’d known when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control. Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” from the Hamilton musical. For today, I’m still at the helm, I still tell my own story. However, I came close to the edge.

I think I now know where the edge is, but as Hunter S. Thompson famously penned, “The Edge… There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others the living-are those who pushed their control as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later. But the edge is still out there.”

Holla Jesu Christe was originally published on TransVentures

[imadoctornotablog]

Fixed It.

Not really.

His hands aren’t shaking, but he feels like they should be. The adrenaline coursing through his veins, making his ribcage feel like a bone rattle for his heart, and shrinking his stomach to the size of peanut, should be more than enough to cause tremors. They had been falling from the sky, he’s impressed he isn’t on the ground right now in a full blown panic attack.

Amazing what three years in space can do for your perspective.

“Leonard.”

Spock. Christ, he forgot he was at his desk for a moment. Mechanically, he reaches for the comm controls. “Here. Please tell me we’re not falling from space again.”

There’s a pause. Is that Scotty in the background? “Can you please come down to Engineering.”

Leonard’s brow furrows. “Is everything alright down there? Did we miss a casualty?”

“Yes.” Spock replies.

Faintly, in the background, he hears Jim. “Is that Bones?”

The comm cuts out. Oh.

No.

The walk to the lift doesn’t feel real. The halls, the tinny voices of the people within them, nothing feels real. Spock’s broken neutral face, Scotty’s plain grief. And Jim, barely masked pain, collapsed against the panel on the wrong side of death. “...Bones.”

He makes eye contact with Spock, then Scotty, and both open their mouth as if to cut him off (did he look that desperate?), but they both stop. Leonard takes two steps, then falls to his knees, pressing his hands to panel. “You told them not to call me.”

“Yeah, well.“ Jim won’t meet his eyes. Leonard can see the gaunt, stretched look of Radiation poisoning. There’s a puddle of vomit near the entrance, more spittle and bile than whatever Jim had eaten in the past 24 hours. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“As opposed to how you’d look on my autopsy table?” That gets him a flash of blue, one that cuts Leonard deeper than he thought possible, full of regret and naked fear. He thinks Jim’s eyes would water if they could. “Fine.”

He turns himself around and collapses with his back to the panel. Jim is silent. Spock is on the comm, speaking in a low voice, and Scotty has his eyes fixed on the control panel with determination.

“You know.” Leonard grasps for topics. Jim’s scared, that much is clear. Who wouldn’t be? Leonard was scared for him. “I always thought I’d be the first to go.”

Jim chuckles. Or coughs, it’s hard to tell, and the tissue of his lungs must be burnt to hell. “No way.”

“I’m serious.”

“C’mon. We both knew-”

“-you’d find the impossible and jump right in, yeah, yeah. Except I always thought I’d be right there to jump after you.” Jim’s breathing isn’t labored so much as it is painful. And he doesn’t respond so Leonard continues. “Maybe not to do what you do. I don’t have the pig-headed survival instinct you do, or, well, the biceps.” Jim does chuckle at that. “But just to be on hand to fix you up no matter how many pieces you tear yourself into.”

“You can’t fix me this time, can you?”

Tears burn, and fall in warm streaks down his cheeks. Maybe this is why Jim didn’t want him down here. He can only deliver despair. “Not this time, Jim.”

“Oh.” As if it were a surprise to either of them. Perhaps it was the finality, the snuffing out of his last hope. Leonard’s too afraid to turn around and look.

“Doctor.” It’s Spock. He looks up, and from the flick of Spock’s gaze over Leonard’s shoulder, so does Jim. “Captain. They have Khan’s location. I’ve been asked to help retrieve him.”

“I told you, Spock, you’re the Captain.” He sounds tired. So tired. “Go. Take that bastard down.”

“Spock.” Leonard tries to lower his voice, but there’s not much he can do to keep Jim from overhearing. Between the three of them, they’d never needed much secrecy anyway. “You know what it’s like to never get to say goodbye.” Jim starts coughing behind him. “You only get one shot.”

Spock looks ill, but he crouches, and he presses his hand to the panel. “Goodbye. My friend.”

“Goodbye.”

Too late, Leonard remembers it’s not a Vulcan custom to be so certain of another’s future absence. Spock makes eye contact one last time, he doesn’t look begrudging about it. He nods and walks stiffly to the exit.

“Sorry, I can’t think of anything to say.” Leonard can worry about Spock later. He’d have all his attention after. Jim was who needed him now.

“Don’t be, I don’t need your platitudes, Jim. I never was one for grandeur.”

“What do you need, Bones?”

Leonard could convince himself they were alone at the bar, that this was just business as usual. If he ignored the wheezing breaths of a dying man. If he phased out the blue glow of auxiliary power lighting and the red glow of the sign above them telling everyone decontamination was incomplete. He breaks his resolve, and tils his head so he can look at Jim. “I have what I need for now.”

Jim studies him, and with a pang Leonard realizes he’s never going to see those blue eyes, sharp with life, move like that ever again. “No you don’t.”

No. He doesn’t. What he needs is to be on the other side of this panel, with radiation shield, with more arithrazine than he had to spare. He needed to be there an hour earlier, before Jim took the dive, he needed for this to not be happening, for himself to have been more useful, for himself to have the cure. But all that’s wishful thinking. So he’ll settle for being what Jim needs. What all his patients need, when his best isn’t enough. He’ll stand watch, be their witness, until death takes what is due.

“What were you thinking?”

“You mean aside from save the crew?” That was bitter, Leonard would have to address that later. “I was wondering. If this was how, y’know. He felt. But it couldn’t’ve been. My father didn’t create Nero.”

“You didn’t create Khan, either. And you sure as hell didn’t create Marcus.”

“No, but I created this situation. I played into their hands, over, and over. I did exactly what Pike said I did. I risked all your lives. And for what?”

“Well. You uncovered a massive internal conspiracy to start an interstellar war. Discovered Khan and his crew to prevent them from being reawakened. Kept Spock from being unleashed on an unsuspecting crew.” Jim had been clinging to his words before this, and now cracked a smile. “So that’s three total possible Federation destroying catastrophes averted in one? Not bad, if I say so myself.”

He’s still smiling when Leonard’s done. Above them, the decontamination sign begins to flash its countdown to completion. Jim’s eyes are serious, though. “Was it worth it?”

“Worth you?” Christ, his voice was breaking. “I.” The smile is gone now, swimming away in film of tears forming against his will. “I’ve gotta tell you, Jim, there’s not a lot I wouldn’t trade right now for one more adventure with you.”

Red shifts to green. The panel slides back, and Leonard lurches forward to catch Jim. For a moment, he can’t tell if Jim is sobbing, but only because Leonard definitely was. Eventually, he gets himself back together. “You saved us. Again. So thanks, again, Jim.”

Jim’s too warm, his breathing too shallow against the hollow of Leonard’s throat. “Y’know, Bones.” It comes out as a whisper. “I think it was worth it.”

Leonard doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t have anything left to say, everything he can think of was a damn platitude, empty and meaningless and not worth Jim’s limited senses. So he holds Jim close, humming without knowing what or why, until the chest against his stops moving.

Scotty’s still there. Somehow.

“Call Security, will you?” Leonard says, in a voice that isn’t his own. “We’ll need a bag. Let’s get him out of here.”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Imagine Jamie visiting a modern supermarket and being shocked at the amount of food available and how easy it is to now feed yourself

Flood my Mornings: Aisles

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment: Not Yet (Jamie and Claire discuss modern contraception…and how long they’ll need it) 

September, 1950

Jamie stood entranced in the middle of the aisle, staring blankly at the sheer wealth of food surrounding him, enough to bury him a dozen times over. 

For that moment, he felt nothing but disgust.

Claire had said as much herself, a moment ago. “This is more modern and plentiful than what you’d find in Scotland or even England, these days. They’re still on war rations, you know,” she’d said, selecting a small bag of dried peas. “It’s a bit revolting, if I’m being honest–all this bounty when there are millions starving around the world, but,” she’d shrugged, “it’s here, and it certainly makes things simple.”

Aye, simple. 

The simplicity of unending plenty. 

The simplicity of more than enough money to partake of it.

The simplicity of a life without famine. 

He ran his fingers lightly, slowly, over rows of boxed rices and grains, feeling burning in his throat and ache in his heart. What wouldn’t he give? What agony would he not suffer to see a one-thousandth share of this abundance delivered to Lallybroch? To shower Jenny and Ian’s weans in more food than they could eat in a week? To see Jenny’s hollowed cheeks grow full and rosy once more?To see their faces at sight of the cakes and sweeties? Christ, only to see them…

Ye canna help them, he chided himself, bowing his head. Give thanks, man. Give thanks for your own full belly. Give thanks that Claire and Brianna are safe and fed. 

Lord, that they might be safe: my sister and her family.

“Da-aaaa?”

He snapped his head up toward the end of the aisle where wee Brianna’s face was craned around Claire’s elbow from her seat in the rolling cart. Despite the sadness still hanging like fog over his heart, Jamie couldn’t help but snort with laughter at the sight: the tiny blue bow on a clasp that Claire used to hold back the lass’s curls from her face was now dangling from the very tip of her forelock, bobbing jauntily against her jaw.

“Daaaaa?” Brianna wailed again, urging him to haste. The word transformed into a squawk as Claire pushed the handcart around the corner and caused them to disappear from view.

Jamie walked hastily forward, placing a hand lightly on the brim of his grey hat to keep it slipping off, shoes squeaking on the gleaming floor as he hurried toward the sounds of Bree’s calling for him, and Claire’s, “Oh for heaven’s sake, Bree, hush, he’s right behind us!” Brianna did not quiet even remotely until Jamie had reappeared, despite Claire’s best efforts. “Jesus H. Christ, I am so very ready for this phase of separation anxiety to run its course,” his wife said under her breath.

Jamie stooped to reaffix Brianna’s bow (Ms. Byrd called it a Barrette). “There you are, a chuisle. That’s better, aye?” 

Brianna misinterpreted his bending down as an intention to lift her out of the seat. When he failed to meet this expectation, she glared and made insistent noises at him, raising her hands up to him.

He gave her a steely eye and a raised brow. “Use words, Brianna. What would you like?”

She changed her tack at once, beaming angelically up at him. “Up-Da-peas?”

“Much better,” he said gently, lifting his daughter up into his arms. On impulse he tossed her up high over his head and caught her again. 

For a moment, he thought she was going to start crying: her eyes had widened and she looked completely stunned from the suddenness of the motion. Then, she cackled uproariously and demanded, “Um’gin!!”

He obliged, giving two or three more tosses before nestling her back down under his chin and kissing her head. He stood swaying for a minute before noticing the strange looks he was receiving with nearly all the other shopgoers in view. One woman, who was standing a mere ten feet away, was actually glaring at him.

Months or even weeks before, he might have reddened and gone quiet, not wishing to attract further attention. Instead, he met the woman’s eyes with a graceful nod and said boldly, “May I be of some assistance to ye, madame?”

The woman gave a great huff, a scandalized, “Really!” and turned her back.

Claire was doing her best to keep from laughing, hiding her face in the cart as she set two loaves of bread within. 

Jamie gave a weary kind of noise. “I dinna have manure on my nose, do Sassenach?”

She gave a small sigh herself as she straightened up. “I think the usual supermarket biddies aren’t used to seeing fathers here…least of all a father being openly affectionate to his daughter.”

Jamie snorted derisively. “They’d rather I shouted at her? Or pretended she wasna there?”

“Who bloody knows? I’m not often here myself, to be honest, God-Bless-Penelope-Byrd.”

“God-Bless-Penelope-Byrd, indeed,” he agreed, kissing Bree again and smiling sweetly at the judgmental passersby. ‘Twas better than giving them a swift kick in the arses, nasty wee besoms. 

Together, while Claire gathered her selections, Jamie and Bree walked around the cases of fruits and vegetables, as ordered and gleaming as jewel-bright honeycombs. Given that Brianna was of the age where she gave the name of everything in sight (often ad nauseum), he pointed at the pile of potatoes Claire was sorting through. “D’ye ken what this is, a leannan?”

“Tay-toe!”came the prompt answer.

“Aye, po-tato, verra good. And in the Gaelic,” he said, switching to that language, “’tis buntàta. Can ye say that, wee love?”

“Mmm-ta-duh!”

“Buntàta”

“Bmm-ta-rra!”

“Buntàta”

“🎶Let’s-call-the-whole-thing-off🎶” Claire sang–-yes, sang! “Oh, never you mind,” she laughed when she saw his face, she carrying blithely on selecting onions and leeks as if it were perfectly natural to break into song with no explanation. 

As it turned out, Brianna proved to be as helpful to Jamie as he was to her when it came to naming the produce before them. For all his travel, education, and general knowledge of the world, he genuinely did not know the answer when he pointed at a huge, green-striped thing and asked. “And what is this, a chuisle?

“Warrr-men-in!” she squealed, lurching forward in his arms to reach for it.

“No, cub, we dinna need that,” he said, pulling her away. Christ, the thing seemed large and heavy enough to crush her! “Is that right, Sassenach? Warmennin?”

“Watermelon,” she corrected, smiling fondly. “They’re sweet and very juicy– perfect in summer!” She selected one and plunked it into the cart.

“Ye dinna need to buy one for my sake, Claire. I was just curi–”

“And why ever not?” she said, with a shrug and a twinkle of the eye, adjusting her handbag and giving his arm a playful tweak. “Live a little, why don’t you!”

“D’ye hear that, Bree?” Jamie said, shifting her up closer to his mouth so he could whisper all confidential-like: “Mama says we can have all the sweeties we desire!”

Brianna raised both hands and gave a cheer. Claire raised both eyebrows and gave a splutter of laughter. “Why you absolute scoundrel! I said no such thing!”

“But as we’re ‘living a little,’ mo nighean donn, I think we’d all feel more alive wi’ a wee bit of chocolate, aye?”

(The chocolate cake made an excellent final course to their rather eclectic backyard meal of Cock-a-leeky soup; crusty bread, purchased and then warmed in the oven with butter and garlic; two exceptional wines that Jamie agonized in choosing from the available multitude; for Bree, some alarmingly-green wriggly stuff called Jello; ….and Watermelon, all washed down with Coca-Cola).

to be continued

[forthepursuitofknowledge]

Turn the Page... (Evil AU Post)

The Sultana’s breath apartments, relatively quiet, though it couldn’t be helped should the occasional ‘festivity’ be brought along; more than likely moved over from the Quicksand and back to a more private setting for evening ‘entertainment’. Luckily for Noah, this wasn’t really a concern; after many times explaining his case…and more than a small amount of gil to ‘help’ plead his case. The man was able to have some adjustments made to his own room, thickening the walls, soundproofing, adding some small security to the man’s otherwise hectic life. Truly this was his home, his fortress.

Yet all the defenses of the room around him couldn’t save him from the crumbling sanity the man was experiencing. It began when he’d first seen himself after his brush with the nameless black mage, the man responsible for killing Quine. Quine, his first friend, a woman who adopted him like a brother. To say that Noah had been going through struggles of the mind was something of an understatement. His life had become riddled with blow after blow to his mental state. First the loss of his friend, a loss that took its toll heavily on him. Not only was this his first brush with loss, but for someone so close to him…a man who was so used to keeping people out, to lose the one woman who brought him into a social setting and forced him to branch out…it hurt him endlessly.

Next was the attack itself, Noah had always fancied himself a well learned Thaumaturge, and while he didn’t openly practice, he would be lying had he said he never dabbled in black magics himself. How could he help it? His father left him his soulstone, and from there he bonded with it rather easily, seeing the way the magics worked…he’d be foolish not to dip into that well, wouldn’t he? Still, for all he knew, all the magic he mustered, he was brushed aside like a rag doll in the way of a lumbering Roegaedyn. And what’s worse, he was marked by this experience for the remained of his life. He would never live this down, it’s imprint left upon his complexion, set to haunt him the rest of his days…

And now this…the Xaela he’d been giving his heart to, the woman he’d confided in and sought to bring about a new life with…gone. She was rushed away in hopes of saving herself from her past, a past she couldn’t allow him to be in the wake of, and while he knew he could not stop her…gods how he longed he had. How he wished he went along with her at times, but now left to his own deteriorating state…his mind couldn’t stand this constant blow after blow.

‘What good has this done you, Noah?’ He could hear his mind call to him, was this from the lack of sleep? Was it his mind slipping?

“Silence damn you, I’m not keen on losing my mind, I have lost enough…I shall not lose THAT.” The man sat in his chair, looking to his fireplace, watching the flames burn bright and hearing the comforting sound of wooden logs crackling, giving way to the heat that was slowly rendering it to ash.

‘You think embracing such silly things has done your mind any good, do you? What happened to the man you were, Kelten. What became of the steeled man who was invulnerable to the foolishness of the world around him? What became of the man none could phase, not even the mightiest of chest beating Dotharl stood in your face, teeth bared…and you did not flinch. Now look at you, sitting in your room…your time being spent reflecting on the pains of your experiences in social experimentation. What wonders it has done for you Kelten, what it has yielded?’ His mind’s voice rang thick with sarcasm.

Noah’s eyes shut tight, he couldn’t stand to think that this voice in his mind was right…and yet how could he not? Ever since he’d joined this company, ever since he’d allowed himself the chance to try his hand at a social experience, he’d found his hand bitten.

Tired eyes stared into the dancing flames, feeling a slight comfort in the combination of heat they gave off, and the enticing almost entrancing colours playing out their sweet performance before him. Noah could not respond to his inner demon, for all he knew it would only bring him that much closer to losing what sanity he had left. And yet…

‘Remain silent all you wish, Noah, but you’ll not escape me. I’m not one of those women to have come into your life, only to find the door so soon after they’ve met you. I’m far from something so easily dispelled, and yet you wish me gone? Aren’t you being a bit brash?’

“That would certainly explain a great deal of bother…” He spoke aloud, shutting his eyes and cringing as though immediately scolding himself for giving into that damn desire to shake this voice aside.

‘And yet all you want is for lasting companionship, isn’t that right? What more reliable a companion. Here I am Kelten, and I think you’ll find it’s quite difficult to be rid of me.’

“Yes you’re bothersome.”

‘Why of course I am, I’m you.’

Noah bit his tongue; he fell right into that one. As he continued to rub his temples furiously, seeking some comfort from the constant headache he’d been having for several days now. He was tired of feeling this empty hollow feeling in his chest, tired of the constant tug at his heart…tired of the constant failure after failure when all he wanted was someone he could depend upon.

‘We had that Noah, but it was taken from us…it was ripped away from us and no matter what happens…we can’t bring her back. She wanted to teach you about the joys of being willing to put yourself in the way of others, place yourself in situations you hated. She wanted you to make friends and instead all you’ve done is found yourself hurt…again…and again….and aga-‘

“ENOUGH!” Noah stood up, shouting to the walls. “I WILL NOT HAVE YOU SLANDER THAT WOMAN’S NAME!” In his rage he could feel his aether rising, a slight hum in his head as he tried to steady his breathing, but to no avail. His heart beating fast, the rage in him festered for so long it was spilling over, making his body tremble.

‘She was taken away Noah, Cirina left you, if anyone were to see you now, they’d think you a monster.’

“Stop it, STOP!” His voice wavered, despite his shouting, gripping his head tighter as he felt his body reaching a boiling point. He wanted it all to cease, all to stop. He couldn’t bear this feeling anymore, this emptiness, there had to be a way to fill it! There had to be something else that could take the place of what he’d lost!

‘Your mother never loved you, wouldn’t look in your direction…you were too much like him. You only reminded her of him. And so she cast you out, her own child. And all alone you lived, until you dared try and bring others back in, and what has it brought you? What has it done but leave you weak and so easily crumbled! Turned you into this horrid sight! Get over yourself, Kelten, who could speak to a man with such a face…?’

“YOU WILL STOP! YOU SHALL OR I SHALL-“

‘You’ll WHAT!? What will you do! Burn? Wreck? Destroy? Tear? Rip? Break? Crush!?! WHAT WILL DO YOU NOAH KELTEN!?’

“OR I SHALL KILL YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME!? I SHALL LIGHT EVERY NERVE ABLAZE, SEND YOU TO YOUR OWN PERSONAL HELL I DIG MYSELF! I SHALL SEE YOU BURN DAMN YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME!? DO YOU HEAR ME!?!?!”

Noah was left, wild eyes glaring to the walls around him, panting heavily as his body was tense. In a moment he turned, around. He knew what he had to do. He needed his revenge, he needed to forge his body…metal, yes…metal would help the man.

He turned, looking at his Griffon Mask, the white hood sat there…it’s shade almost taunting him in its purity…surely not fitting for man who was going to wear it. Not the man he was to become. If Noah was weak, then no longer would he be Noah. The man rushed to a cabinet in his study, picking up black aetheric ink and moving with heavy footstep back to the hood. He poured the ink onto the material, letting it coat the fabric and metal until he channeled his own aether, the ink on the mask reacted giving the entire hood and metal guard a black finish to replace the white.

Slowly the man took the hood, placing it on. Throwing upon him a black jacket with some gold finishing that had been sanded to remove the shine it might have to give him away.

“No longer…NO LONGER! I shall not lose a thing more, it shall not be I who loses, but THEM. First I start with the man who took Quine from me; I start by tearing his aether from him. I make him scream, shout! I BURN him to his core and scatter the ashes to the winds!”

Noah began to grip and grab potions he had scattered about his apartment, various cocktails he had always kept but never dared to think of using for what he intended.

“Noah Kelten was frail, was weak and trampled! But no more…Not ever again! No…Noah Kelten has died tonight. And in his place stands Page…And I shall take my vengeance. I shall not let this go quiet into the night; I shall make those who practice such magic suffer. I shall wring this world from black magics if it costs me all I have! And any who should seek to come between them and I…any who dares place their feet in my path…” Noah paused…reaching out to grip his stav, tightening his grip on it firm. “Ashes and dust…all shall be as ash and dust…” His voice came out grizzled, guttural, the man’s anger taking him entirely and leaving nothing that was once Noah Kelten behind.

As the man finished placing on his attire, he could already feel it…that whole filling now…the part of him that long for completion was finding it. He looked to his hand, as though seeing himself a new man, born full in the fires of destruction.

“Rhalgr…you and I have never spoken…so what say you?”

…

“Shall we chat?”