#i think it's safe to stay i unfortunately get separation anxiety rip

[aro-aizawa]

besties, y’know, i don’t think i’m doing so good

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

kisses 21 jm!

For the prompt “we’ll face this together” kiss. TY SAHAR!!! OKAY I accidentally had one (1) jonbinary idea and then it ended up being SO FUCKING LONG (like 2.5k long) so uh. yeah. Warnings for descriptions of dysphoria, mentions of kidnapping and self loathing, and Jon getting pretty close to a panic attack. Also disclaimer, although I am nonbinary, I’m not transfem, so if there’s any critiques surrounding that, don’t hesitate to let me know. Stay safe y’all!

Jon’s face itches as he faces the mirror like an old foe. It’s long held an image that hurts him to see; aged by unfathomable horrors and dotted with marks like a canvas before a child’s paint tipped fingers, and these days he can’t even be sure that his reflection looks away from him when he turns his head. But, the devil it holds at the moment is the simple reflection of his short beard, and his face itches at the reminder of it.

It isn’t a physical itch. It lurks under the skin, poking and prodding at his senses, rubbing him the wrong way as he lays his cheek on his pillow, leaving a distracting echo when his chin brushes against Martin’s during a kiss, scraping at the inside of his skin as he stares at himself and takes in the sight of it covering his chin.

He scrubs his fingers over his eyelids. He isn’t ignorant, he realizes the discomfort he feels is most likely somewhat gender-related, but it’s… his relationship with his gender is complicated. In a lot of ways, it’s been such a mundane concern recently that he’s somewhat lost track of where he stands with it, but he remembers how it felt to first wear a skirt into the archives, all those long years ago. How gentle Sasha had been with him back then, even if the memory pinches the back of his head and grins with too many teeth and a short haircut that he knows now was wrong. But the Stranger cannot take that act of kindness away from her, even if it took away the face he remembers sharing it with.

He had felt like he was becoming something new, then, staring at a new path, freshly paved in his life, open to the possibilities of self discovery and certainty. Then his life had been riddled with worms and his friends had been carved out, one by screaming one, and he was on the run and set alight and kidnapped and disabled and nearly killed and kidnapped again and nearly killed and—

Jon remembers, vaguely, a flash of what had happened in the month he was… gone. He doesn’t remember most of what happened in that place. Probably for the better, he tells himself, but he does recall one thing. One very simple thing, really; that he hadn’t been able to shave, and he remembers the itch being all he could focus on for days at a time.

One of the first things he had done after stumbling through Michael-now-Helen’s door-not-deathtrap was drag himself to a sink and shave his face raw, burned hand be damned. His skin had suffered afterwards, nicked and irritated beneath its smoothness, and he had taken some strange, morbid comfort in the blemish he was able to inflict, after so many days of hearing hollow voices sing of its beauty.

This is a dangerous line of thought, he realizes, hands pressed against the bathroom sink, his heartbeat starting to pound in his ears. He desperately does not want to think about that, not here, and preferably not ever again, if he can help it.

He tries to bring himself back to the here and now, grounding himself in the feeling of porcelain under his palms, but the victory over his mind is a hollow one, unfortunately, as it brings him right back to the itching under his skin.

He’s not sure if this itch is exasperated by his own self consciousness, or by the lingering sting of the Lonely that threatened to separate him from himself, but it builds until its all he can feel in his skin, on his face, and he finds himself lunging across the counter, knocking things over in an attempt to hunt down Martin’s razor.

Jon had lost his own somewhere in the chaos of living in the archives, but he’s sure he saw Martin trim his own short beard when they first arrived at the safehouse, so it must be here, he thinks, ripping open drawers, it must— aha!

His fist closes around the razor, hidden under the sink next to a small bottle of shaving cream and Martin’s testosterone shots, and he barely gives a thought to what he’s doing before raising it to his dry cheek, just needing this thing off, and—

“Jon? You know that’s not how to do that, right?”

Jon whips around like lightning, his back to the sink and the razor clenched in his fist against his chest like a talisman, breathing heavily.

Martin had been smiling slightly as he entered the bathroom, but the expression quickly falls from his face as he takes in the panicked look on Jon’s face, and the erratic motion of his free hand, clenched into a fist at his side and twitching in an attempt to calm himself. Martin steps forward quickly, outstretching a hand.

“Jon, love? Are you alright?”

Jon fixes his eyes on Martin; kind, beautiful Martin who still goes a bit grey at the fingertips and the eyes when anxiety seizes him, Martin who has always been there, always been there, ever since the beginning. Jon anchors himself as he looks at that familiar, beloved face, and tries to take a breath.

“I-I don’t know,” He manages, because this all feels very silly now. He’s a grown person standing in the center of a bathroom, clutching his boyfriend’s shaving razor like it’s a weapon, for God’s sake, all because of what? Some facial hair? Good Lord, he’s being ridiculous. “Probably, I just… um.” He trails off, gut sinking as emotions spiral through him, too fast to pin down and name.

“Okay,” Martin says gently, shuffling a step closer. “Why do you have that?” He gestures to the razor in Jon’s hand, and Jon twitches, holding it closer.

“I need to borrow it,” He explains, stumbling. “I can’t- I need-“ He makes a frustrated noise and tries to get his thoughts to align. He inhales deeply and tries again. “I need to …shave. This-“ he gestures jerkily towards his face. “This is too much.”

Martin nods carefully, eyes glued to Jon’s face. “Too much?” His question is as gentle as his eyes, and Jon has to glance away for a moment, overwhelmed by being seen.

“It’s… complicated,” He begins, the fist pressed to his chest beginning to lighten up. “It… it just itches, all the time. Like- like a thousand ants under my skin, w-which is ridiculous because it doesn’t actually hurt or itch or- or anything, it just…” he glances back to Martin’s eyes, furtive and desperate for him to understand. “I need it to stop.”

“Oh,” Martin softens even more before Jon’s eyes, his face melting with understanding and sadness. “Oh, Jon. I didn’t realize you were having dysphoria.”

At the word dysphoria Jon glances sharply up, uncertainty fraught on his face, and Martin backtracks quickly.

“Or- s-sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. Is it-”

“N-no, Martin, it-it’s fine.” Jon waves Martin’s nerves aside and finds that he finally has a decent enough hold on his own to lower the hand that had been pressed against his chest. He turns around in the bathroom and sits down on the edge of the bathtub, sighing heavily. “It might be dysphoria, I don’t…” He hesitates, chuckling slightly. “I’m not quite sure I know it well enough to place it. Gender hasn’t exactly been… a priority these days.”

Martin nods and follows him deeper into the bathroom, setting down the lid of the toilet so he can sit on it and listen to Jon blunder through his feelings.

“It might be? I mean… I know I’m not a man, per say, but it… I mean, it could also be so many other things at this point. It’s just- I know it’s stupid to overthink, but—“

“Hey, hey,” Martin cuts him off, extending a hand to brush against the side of his knee. “It isn’t stupid, Jon. You don’t have to have a label or a reason in order to be uncomfortable. It’s- you’re allowed to call it just that; uncomfortable.”

Jon nods, looking down at the hands clasped in his lap.

“I know. It just hit me so suddenly, I-” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead, careful to avoid brushing any of the hairs on his face. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Martin murmurs, and his hand rests more solidly on Jon’s knee. “Is this alright?”

Jon nods mutely, and lets himself expel some more of the tension in his shoulders as he focuses on the motion of Martin’s thumb sweeping softly over his knee.

“It reminds me of the circus,” Jon breathes after a moment of silence, and Martin’s hand stills against him, attentive and horrified. “When- when they…” He inhales sharply, willing his voice not to break. “Well, I couldn’t very well shave it,” He clenches his hands into fists again, still holding the razor tightly in his right. “Got it off as quickly as possible once I could.”

Martin exhales. “I remember that. I thought you just… I dunno, just really nicked yourself. I didn’t think about… yeah.”

“Yes,” Jon agrees, keeping his gaze on the hand on his knee. “I-I mean, I definitely did, nick myself that is. I wasn’t really thinking about doing it properly, I suppose.”

“Like just now?” Martin asks, kindly, gently, not judging. Jon feels his chest pinch anyways.

“Yes.” He admits quietly. Martin leans down to press a careful kiss to Jon’s knee.

“Okay, well, this time we’ll do it properly,” Martin raises himself from the toilet seat, reaching down into the cupboards to pull forth the shaving cream and a towel, and holds them out towards Jon.

Jon blinks, looks at the objects and then up at Martin, unsure of what’s being offered. “Sorry?”

“You still want the beard off, right? Let’s just make sure you don’t upset your skin,” He cracks a humorous smile. “Then it’ll actually start itching.”

Jon takes the can from his hand, but still frowns. “Us?”

“I- yeah,” Martin shifts his weight, fidgeting with the towel. “I can help, if that’s alright with you. You don’t… always seem to handle mirrors the best? And I’ve helped shave another person before so… yeah. If you want.”

Jon’s world stutters to a blushing halt. Martin’s right, he doesn’t like to linger on his face in mirrors even on the best days (of which today is certainly not one) and as much as he’s accustomed to doing this himself, what Martin is promising is intimate; an extension of vulnerability and the promise of a care that he hardly takes with himself. The more he considers it, the more finds himself tentatively wanting it, and he nods carefully. He trusts Martin, he’s decided a thousand times by now.

“Alright,” He agrees, and smiles.

Martin smiles in response. “Alright. Do you want me to um-” He gestures with the towel in his hand, and Jon nods.

Martin makes quick work of running the towel under the tap until it’s warm, and then wringing it out so it’s ready to actually use. He takes his seat again and tips Jon’s head back with a hand to lay the towel gently overtop, letting the warmth seep into his skin. It’s more effort than Jon usually puts in, or used to, when he did this more regularly, but he finds it’s a nice feeling, and he almost misses it when Martin takes the towel away again.

“Right,” Martin continues, looks pointedly to the can of shaving cream in Jon’s hand and Jon hesitates.

“Ah. Maybe not that part? Th-the actual shaving is fine, but-”

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” Martin nods, not questioning, and reaches forward instead to gently take the razor itself from Jon’s fist so he can use both hands to get the shaving cream on his face. Jon surrenders the razor, forcing himself to trust it in Martin’s hands, to trust that Martin won’t just leave him hanging.

He tries not to think too hard about the feeling of the cream on his skin. It’s a far cry from lotion, so it doesn’t bring up any sense memories, thankfully, but it’s still an uncomfortable texture, and he focuses on the sound of Martin’s breathing to keep himself from slipping.

Fortunately it doesn’t take long; soon enough Jon’s finished, wiping his hands on his trousers, and then Martin’s shifting closer, taking Jon’s face in his hands like it’s something precious, something to be loved and cared for. He is very close, his dark brown eyes nearly black with focus as he gently reaffirms that Jon’s sure about this, and then the cool razor swipes across Jon’s cheek.

Jon’s heart lurches in his chest, a messy combination of nerves and gratefulness, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move at all, and just watches Martin focus with gentle certaintly as the blade passes over his cheeks again and again in careful, confident strokes. His fingers whisper at Jon’s chin when he tilts up his head and swipes the blade carefully up the top of his throat, brow furrowed and tongue poking out of his lips in concentration.

Jon holds his breath, wills his heart to still, but it’s alright, with Martin it’s always alright. His hands are warm as they cup his cheeks, tilt him this way and that, thorough in their task, and his fingertips are gentle as they lift his chin and brush away foam and ghost over his throat. He never even comes close to nicking him, and Jon feels a great warmth unspooling in his chest, stinging his eyes.

“All done,” Martin finishes triumphantly, his face breaking into a grin as he hands Jon the towel again, lets him wipe off his own face.

There’s no coarse texture as the fabric touches his face, no itching or discomfort as it drags over his chin, and the steady drumbeat of wrongness that had pervaded him for weeks finally, finally dissipates, unblocking his lungs and releasing the tightness from his shoulders. He runs a hand over his chin, and finds a shy smile quickly taking over his face, affection and relief filling him up from the inside out and spilling onto his features.

“Thank you,” He breathes, and Martin matches his smile with one of his own, and nods, nothing but respect and affection in his eyes.

“Any time,” Martin says seriously, before reaching out to take Jon’s hand and slowly bringing it to his lips, giving Jon ample time to pull away. “You don’t have to struggle with this stuff alone,” He murmurs against Jon’s knuckles. “It’s easier together.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Jon’s response is quiet, and Martin kisses his hand then; gentle, and full of reverence. Jon finds that he could melt right into the floor and be happy for the rest of his life.

He reaches up to pull Martin down into a kiss, gentle and insistent and grateful, lacing his hands in his hair and sighing against his lips at the sensation, noting how nice it feels to kiss his boyfriend without his itching skin pressing at his thoughts.

The kiss stays chaste, and eventually Jon pulls back just enough to press their foreheads together, keeping his eyes closed, reveling in it. “Together, then.” He affirms, and Martin smiles.

“One way or another.”

[theonewiththefanfics]

Please Don’t Leave (one-shot)

Synopsis: After a night spent together, the Reader wakes up wrapped in the arms of the man she loves. Only problem is - they live two different lives, and she barely has a place in it as a best friend. 

Paring: Harry Styles x f!Reader

Genre: angst, but with a fluffy ending (also kind of an AU since being at a party is mentioned, but if you’re out there and partying (aka not following YOUR LOCAL HEALTH GUIDELINES) wear a damn mask!) - please keep up with what the health professionals are saying, and stay safe. If you’re at a place where you can safely go out and have fun in large crowds - please do so, but with caution. If not - WEAR A DAMN MASK AND WASH YOUR HANDS.

Warnings: anxiety, angsty, think that’s about it. if there’s anything, please let me know :)

Word count: 2283

Waking up in the arms of the person you love should be the most blissful thing in the world. It should quell your racing heart after a nightmare, and speed it up as you open your eyes to see the one who's holding you so tight. But when that person is your best friend, the best friend you’ve had for the past half-decade, the best friend whom you’ve had unsaid feelings for the past three years – that will set your heart racing and not in a good way.

        As Y/N blinked her Y/E/C eyes open, she felt safe. Probably the safest she’d ever felt and all thanks to the man lying next to her. The tattoos covering his chest she’d memorised by heart, had traced their black outlines more times than she could count, and at the start of the pandemic, when the first wave of emotional exhaustion had hit, he’d allowed her to colour them in, to bring some sort of vibrance in the gloomy-looking life. Now, however, seeing the gorgeous butterfly right in her eye-line made Y/N want to disappear into the ground.

A shuddering breath escaped Y/N as she realised more and more of the situation. They were spooned together, chest to chest, without a single inch left between them, and without any clothes to separate them either. 

        She’d never been the friends-with-benefits kind of a person. Sure, she’d had her fair share of one-night-stands, where both parties enjoyed themselves and then amicably split to never see one another again. But with Harry, leaving and basically ghosting him wasn’t an option. 

        Harry shifted a bit, and the arm he had under her bare waist tightened, pulling her in, and his lips pressed against her forehead. For a moment, she thought it was just him stirring in his sleep, but when she felt pressure against her skin, when she felt his mouth start to skim down to her temple, a small grin accompanying the kisses, Y/N knew he was awake. And unfortunately, she’d have to face the music, rather than what she’d hoped of untangling herself from Harry, grabbing her things and running for the hills.

        “ ‘G morning, lovie,” he muttered, his voice gruff from the sleep, and as Y/N recalled, moans of her name. “How ya feelin’?”

        Y/N had to clear her throat, and she nodded. “Good.” The word was quiet. “A bit sore, but I uh, slept well. Uh, you?”

        “ ‘M good.” Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “ ‘M great actually.”

        “Yeah?”

        “Yeah.” Y/N could feel the grin slowly expand across his face while she gulped.

        “Well, uh,” she started. “I uh, I guess I’ll get going.”

        That made him pull back, and she took it as her opportunity to flip around and slip out of Harry’s hold and the bed. 

        The bedsheet revealed her naked back to him where two large bruises in the shape of his palms had started to make themselves present. Much like on his own back, Y/N had nail marks all across it from when she’d been on top of him, and Harry had needed her closer, had been desperate to have her pressed to him and to keep her there as he fell apart. 

        “You don’t have to, you know.” He let out a nervous chuckle, as Y/N leaned down and grabbed her discarded black thong. Most of the night was a blur for him, but he hadn’t been that inebriated that he had no control over himself and couldn’t understand what consent was. And well, neither had Y/N. 

        The alcohol had most definitely loosened them up, but it had also wiped away the fear of rejection. She’d been the one to make the first move. Standing alone on a penthouse balcony, cold winds sweeping past her frame was when she’d decided hiding her true feelings would only bring more pain.

        And then he’d walked out, covered in a glitter suit with a ruffled white blouse underneath, almost like the disco ball they'd been dancing under a few minutes before. He'd pulled Y/N to him. They’d looked at one another, and she was the one who pressed her lips against his. Without even waiting for a second, he'd responded with the same passion.

        It’d taken them barely a minute to get out of the party and make their way to Harry’s place. Five more minutes and both of them were naked and on top of one another, underneath one another and in every imaginable position. 

But as much as the alcohol had taken away every fear she’d had about being with Harry, the dawn had brought a clarity to the situation. And as painful of a clarity it was for Y/N, it was undeniable. 

        “I think I do, Haz. I – this –...” She gulped. “This was a mistake. We should’ve never slept together.”

        She could feel the cold creep over them. “What do you mean?” His voice was small. She'd never heard him like that.

        “I mean, we were drunk, Harry.” Y/N didn’t dare look back at the man as she stood up, arm over her chest, as her eyes scanned the beige carpet for her bra and the dress, she’d worn the night before. “We were drunk and made a mistake. This shouldn’t have happened. So, I think I’ll be the one to bite the bullet, and not have us have an awkward breakfast, and go.”

        When there was no response from Harry, Y/N took it as confirmation that she was right, that what had happened the night before was just an alcohol-induced mistake, so on wobbly legs, she grabbed the black lace bra, clasped it behind her, the navy dress a messy pile on the floor as she pretty much b-lined for it. 

        She was right by the door, one of the nine-inch heels that had been killing her feet throughout the party in hand when a suppressed sob made her stop.

        “Please don’t,” he practically choked out, and that made Y/N whip around, seeing his chest rattle as he attempted to take in a breath. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t – I – I”

        “Fuck, Harry,” she dropped her dress and the shoe and climbed into his lap, hands against his cheeks, and eyes never leaving his frantic green ones. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me.”

        There’d been a couple of times she’d have to help him through an anxiety attack, so Y/N was aware of what helped him – pressing his palm to her chest and her own against his. “Focus on me,” she said in a firm voice. “Focus on my heartbeat and how I’m breathing.”

        “I can’t –.” He was still heaving, but with every second she was there with him, it evened out. “Please don’t leave me.”

        “I’m not leaving. I could never leave you.” She shushed him, feeling hot tears splash against her collarbone, as Harry hid face against her neck, and gripped onto her sides with such vigour, she was sure if she had a shirt on, it would rip. “I’m still here, I’ll always be here when you need me. But this was a mistake. Harry, we should’ve never slept together. Not like that.”

        “Why?” His hands were gentle as he cupped her cheeks and brought their gaze to meet. “Why was it so wrong for us to do that? Why shouldn’t it have happened? Give me one solid, one good reason why.”

        “Because we’re best friends.” Y/N leaned into his touch. “And best friends don’t do that.”

        “They do if they have feelings that are more than friendly.”

        Y/N sighed. “Harry…”

        “I love you… and I know you love me too. I’m not blind, Y/N. I can see the way you look at me, and I know what it means because I look at you the same way."

        “I know... but the thing is, I don’t fit in your world. Not like that.”

        When she chuckled and spoke, there was no malice behind those words. She was just stating facts, but Harry couldn’t help how his heart clenched in guilt and pain. “You’ve been hiding me as your friend for years now, and I understand why, and I love you for it. So much. You’ve always cared about me, and how your lifestyle affects the people around you… but if I’m with someone… I don’t wanna hide. I don’t wanna be a secret or our love to be a secret. I want to hold their hand.” Y/N took his right hand and weaved their fingers together. “And I don’t wanna be afraid of what people might say about it. I wanna be able to love the person freely… I’d wanna love you freely…”

        “Then I’ll quit,” he immediately announced, making Y/N’s eyes widen as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, an almost manic smile on his face. “I’ll quit. Fuck all of it, if it gives us a chan-“

        “No.” She vehemently shook her head pulling away and pressing her palm against his chest. “Harry are you completely out of your mind? You can’t just quit ev – everything!”

        He scoffed. “Of course, I can. It’s my job, innit? I can choose when to do it and when not.”

        “But – no – Harry, hold on a bit. That’s a bit rash. Besides, I’m not letting you just up and throw away everything you’ve worked for.”

        “I’m not though.” His smile was so wide, Y/N couldn’t comprehend how this talk could be making him happy. “I’ve been reaping the fruits of all that hard work for years now, lovie. I have enough to keep me going, Mum and Gems and whatever future family I have for decades to come.”

        “Yes, but have you done everything you’ve wanted?”

        “Well, no bu – “

        “But nothing,” Y/N interrupted him. “Harry, you’re in the middle of shooting a movie, your music career is at an all-time high, and who knows how high it could go. You have a Disney, a fucking Disney movie lined up. And don’t get me started on Marvel. You can’t just quit all that now because you’ve got a crush or something.”

        “It’s not a crush.”

        Y/N smiled a bit. “Give it time, and it’ll go away.”

        “Hasn’t left me for the past two years, and now, especially now, I don’t think it’ll disappear that easily. Has it for you?”

        Fuck. She hated when Harry was right. “No.” She shook her head. “It hasn’t.”

        “Then where does this leave us?”

        “I don’t know,” Y/N whispered, eyes on her fingers as she skimmed his collarbones and the two swallows below them. “I really don’t know.”

        “I can’t stay friends with you,” Harry murmured, “because every time I’ll look at you, I’ll know we could’ve been so much more.”

        “But we can’t be together either. Not the way we should be.”

        “What if we…” Harry gulped, straightening out a bit, but never letting the soothing motions against Y/N’s back end as he allowed his free hand to explore her back. “What if we set up some rules?”

        Her brows furrowed as she pulled back and tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

        “Like… what if we didn’t have to hide? If we went out on dates, or with friends, we didn’t have to keep us a secret? We could kiss, and hold our hands, and be a normal couple, but in interviews, in all of the publicity shit I’d have to do, I don’t talk about you. I – I let them know, that I have an amazing girlfriend, the most beautiful and supporting girlfriend a person could have.” He chuckled, and Y/N couldn’t help herself but mimic it. “But I don’t talk about anything you don’t want me to.”

        “Meaning?”

        “Meaning you set whatever boundaries you want for me. Tell me what you’d want them to know, if anything at all, and I’ll only mention those things. We go at your pace and however far you want. The rest is just for us and no one else.”

        “ ‘N what about the paps? The gossip magazines and rumours and hate that’ll come?”

        “I – I can’t control that, I swear if I could, I would, and I hate it’s out of my control –“

        “Harry.” Y/N interrupted him before he could start spiralling again. “I’m not blaming you for any of it, I’m just saying what would happen. We’ve both seen it too many times. I’m just not sure I can handle it.”

        “You shouldn’t, fuck, you shouldn’t even be saying that – thinking that – but I promise, I’ll try, I swear I’ll try and make it as easy as possible for you. And I know if we try this it’s going to be the furthest from normal, you have no idea, how badly I want to make it as normal as possible for you, but please just… just give us a chance. I know we could be so happy, so fucking happy together… just give us a chance… give me a chance.”

It was electric, the way his hands skimmed over her sides. Not the painful kind of electricity you sometimes get zapped by a car door or when you touch a balloon, but a buzzing kind, that set each and every nerve alive, brought it out of the terrifying numbness that was rejection and fear, and pulled them into the loving light of acceptance.

“I mean, it’s always been us, hasn’t it?” Y/N muttered letting her lips flutter over his. 

“Yeah,” Harry whispered back. “It has.”

“Then let’s be us forever?”

Harry’s smile was more blinding than the golden light which erupted into the room, bathing them in liquid flames and warming up not only their bodies but their souls. 

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: hey! so I know I’ve been gone for a while, and most likely will be for quite a bit and will be only posting og stuff sporadically. I’m dealing with a death in the family, so I’m only writing when I’m inspired. right now music is what’s inspiring me, so if you’re here for someone else, please message me and I’ll put you on a specific tag list. I won’t take it personally, I promise :D 

Not saying that to gain sympathy, it’s just how it is rn. I still have plans to finish all the series I’ve started (even Hawkins’ Charm), it’s just that I needed to write something else for a bit.

This is definitely not my best work, but I still wanted to share it, as I hope this will make me get back into the groove of things. 

Hope everyone is staying safe :)

P.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list message me :) tags are always open. 

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry :(

[four-letter-girl]

InuKag Fanfic Recommendations

Hi everyone 🌻

I joined the Inuyasha fandom over the summer, and I’ve been having a good time reading fanfiction since finishing the series. Recommendation posts helped me find some great ones. I’ve decided to put one together for fun [lmao for all 10 of my followers - squad]. These are fics I’ve enjoyed [i.e. binged and used as COVID coping mechanisms]. They aren’t in any particular order. I’m sure there are plenty I’ve read that I’m forgetting, but I wasn’t exactly planning to do this.

I’m copy and pasting the summaries from the writers with each link because that’s more helpful than my fangirl thoughts about each one. Ha. I’ve included ratings, but this list is being made with the assumption you’ll determine if a fic is right for you by reading Author Notes and additional ratings within each link.

I tagged the Tumblrs of the authors I follow/could find. If you see someone on here who isn’t tagged and you know their Tumblr, let me know and I can add them. Also, I’ve been using Tumblr less than a month, and I have no idea what I’m doing. If I’ve done something wrong or something looks weird, THAT’S WHY. 💀

As of 11.22.20

Multi-Chapter In Progress:

(T) Light Me a Lantern by Novaviis / @inuyashasforest: “Picking up the pieces after being separated for three years isn't as easy as it may seem. A quiet, burning kind of chaos sweeps through Feudal Japan, and it's going to take a lot more than a fairy tale ending to put things back together. They defeated a man who would become the Devil. Can they survive a man who would become a God?”

(M) Behind the Silk Screen by Eiennobasho / @eien-no-basho: “When a twist of fate brings the common-born priestess Kagome to serve Inuyasha, Divine Emperor of Japan, will she be able to help him claim his place on the throne and bring order to their country? Or will court intrigues and their own burgeoning feelings tear the two and their nation apart? A historical romance set in Japan’s Heian Era.”

(M) Fate Carving by willowandfog / @willowandfog: “The human world has been brought to its knees by the demons, reverting their culture back a century. Demons now control everything and the humans? Set to be servants forever. Kagome’s city is ruled over by the Inu youkai clan and when she goes to Kaede on her 18th birthday for her required “Fate Carving,” the tattoo that will determine what her place is in the world, she’s stunned, terrified, and overwhelmed by the results. Everyone she’s ever known has been a worker, but when has Kagome ever been the same as everyone else?” (M) Kintsugi by Evilillusions / @soliska: “Failing to be chosen as her village's miko, Kagome had resigned herself to a humble life. An unexpected summons returns her to the city where she's forced to reconcile the taught virtues and the spiralling, warped reality created by those that abuse their power. She holds the key to repairing the fracture between humans and youkai, and the freedom of her new hanyou friend.” (M) Bound Across Time by wonderwander / @thornedraven: “InuYasha and Kagome are separated for three years, travelling for so long together only to be ripped apart without so much as a good-bye. Pain and heartache manifests itself in different ways. It hardens you or breaks you. How long can one hold on to hope?” (M) The Half-Breed’s Wife by Gypsyn / @gypsin: “On the night of the new moon, a runaway girl stumbles into Inuyasha's life. Little did he realize then what he would be undertaking by saving her. But when Kagome has nowhere else to go will he leave her to her fate Or will he rise to the occasion? And what will the humans think?” (M) Hit The Like Button by omgitscharlie / @omgitscharlie: “After a public breakup, successful social media influencer Kagome Higurashi is single for the first time since she started her career. Trying to cheer her friend up, Sango hosts a party in hopes of getting Kagome out of her stooper; unbeknownst to her, there was a certain person Sango wants her to meet. Unfortunately, the set up does not go as hoped as the two know each other from previous, unsavory interactions.” (M) Youkai In The Mirror by SugarRos / @sugarrosfanfiction: “Kagome Higurashi is lucky. She has good grades, good friends, and the cute, popular boy in class just asked her out. But when she accidentally unleashes a very wicked youkai from a very wicked spell, her luck runs out. Now on the run from a powerful priestess, Kagome must help Inuyasha get his revenge.” (M) Demon Nature by Shardetector / @shardetector: “He spoke low and gently, although his voice was gruff with his demon still so close to the surface, ‘You saved me wench, now I’ll repay the favor.’ With that, his muscles bunched in his legs as he sprung up and out of the well, a red blur in the night as he made his way through the forest to his destination. His precious cargo held safely to his chest, as he raced to save her with his demonic speed.”

(M) A Crack in the Glass by willowandfog / @willowandfog: “Kagome’s being watched, followed, but has no idea who it is or why they are doing it. When Kagome hires the help of a private investigator things take a dangerous turn. Uncovering secrets that Kagome didn't even know she had.” (M) The Shogun’s Daughter by Shnuggletea / @shnuggletea: “Kagome’s father passed away when she was just a child but his Shogun status still makes her a valuable bride to a Lord of lands that border their village. She isn’t given much choice but still agrees to marry the stranger so those she cares and loves would be happy and safe, taking her village under his protection in return for her hand. Lord Inuyasha Tenoe is pushed by the council into marriage, assured his new bride was an excellent choice. He has his doubts but has no choice, agreeing to the match sight unseen. All their fears and anxiety are amplified when they meet. It’s an interesting coupling to say the least.”

Multi-Chapter Complete:

(M) The Kings Concubines by The ReddQueen: “The Concubines of the House of the Moon are the most beautiful & idolized women across the Western Land. A chance arises as they search for another to take such a prestigious position. One will find that a true concubine is more than beauty, but she must overcome the most painful of hurdles, keep the darkest of secrets, & still stay true to her heart.”

(M) Thousandfurs by RosieB: “Based on the little known Grimm fairytale. Princess Kagome is forced from her home and into the demon territories. Will Prince Inuyasha ever figure out who his new servant is?” (M) Base Instincts by ImaniJoain: “When Inuyasha is lost to his youkai half, Kagome must find a way to convince him to return to himself.”

(M) To Summon a Mate by Penthesileia / @pentheseileia: “On Halloween night, Kagome is tricked into releasing a possessive, dangerous, hotter then hell demon from his prison of 500 years. She's in danger, but it's not her life she's worried about…yet.”

Oneshots

(M) Lesson by akitokihojo / @akitokihojo: “After a long night out, tensions begin to build. Kagome gets herself into a little trouble with Inuyasha, and Inuyasha is more than happy to teach her right from wrong.”

(M) Dominance by omgitscharlie / @omgitscharlie: “She'd been teasing him all day, and she knew it. Those fleeting glances and knowing smiles, it drove Inuyasha insane; not to mention she smelled sweeter, more intense. What happens when Kagome pushes Inuyasha beyond his limits?”

(M) It Will Come Back by wonderwanderer / @thornedraven: “A one shot inspired by Hozier's song "It Will Come Back". Slight Little Red Riding Hood inspiration as well. Darker themed Little Red Riding Hood, and much more adult themed.”

(M) Touch by KeiChanz / @keichanz: “’I want…’ He paused, trying to find the words, and growling in frustration when he couldn’t. A grunt left him and he dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. ‘I just…I…dammit.’ Inuyasha sighed raggedly, nuzzled her shoulder, and then husked against her skin, ‘I want…you.’”

(M) After the Well Closes by Shnuggletea / @shnuggletea: “It's been a year since Kagome made the decision to jump back through the well and leave her family and life behind. And she is confused to say the least that things are almost the same. Tired of being Inuyasha's demon-killing partner and nothing more, Kagome decides to start her new life and family. When she is stopped by a manic demon Inuyasha, her new life beings quickly.”

(M) Mine by jaygirl987: “She was so beautiful and pure. And his.”

(M) Diamonds and Moonglow by annabeth: “That whimper, right there, is what Inuyasha loves most about this.“

(M) Together Again by wonderwanderer / @thornedraven: “Some intimacy between InuYasha and Kagome after being reunited after three years, rediscovering each other in some of the more intimate ways one can.”

[aliendes]

Natural Borns - Chapter Nine

Banner by @thebannershop​

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, smut (NSFW) 

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: cursing, vivid depiction of a panic attack do not read if this makes you uncomfortable, crying, blood, shitty medical descriptions (probably), depression, cursing, anxiety, forced medical practices? Restraints, mentions of unwanted sexual acts? I suppose just sadness, man. The next chapter is going to get pretty dark, and this one leads up to that, so beware.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 7.1k~

A/N: Surprise!! Hi, I know this is early, but I had a productive week and felt inspired. I am so excited for like two chapters down the line, because there is a really sweet scene, that I can’t wait for you guys to read. Thank you for all the love, it means so much. Please like, reblog, comment so more people can see this series! I absolutely LOVE hearing from the readers of this series, and it is my favorite time of the week interacting with you, so please send me all the asks you want, I’m happy to answer questions about characters! You might learn a thing or two if you read those asks I answer ;)   ALSO: I’m less than 50 followers away from 1,000... which is... insane. I’m going to do a drabble/ask maybe request thing once I reach 1,000 so stay tuned!

xx

Jungkook’s eyes were panicked and Jin’s heart cracked at the sight, not remembering a time when Jungkook had been so passionate about something, the weight of his words settling in his own chest, “They took her.”

It’s dark and cold. Your eyelids are so heavy you don’t think you could open them if you tried. Your throat feels like the Sahara desert with how dry and scratchy it is, and your muscles feel like you attempted to run a marathon without stretching whatsoever. To put it simply, you feel like shit. But why?

The last thing you remember was sitting with Jungkook next to the small stream you found in the middle of the forest. Sharing your first kiss with him. The thought makes you smile mentally, taking your thoughts away from the searing pain you feel throughout your body. You’re not sure if you’re even awake right now, you can’t move any part of your body, nor can you open your eyelids. Were you in some sort of coma? No, there’s no way. 

Did you fall asleep? That must be the case, right? Maybe you were so dehydrated and exhausted you passed out. Jungkook would take care of you, though, so you shouldn’t worry. But then again, why do you feel like you’ve been hit by eight trucks and thrown off an overpass?

Your body feels like lead, it’s so heavy, and you almost feel like you’re sinking. Your body is floating, you feel no hard surface beneath you, like you might if you were laying on the ground, but at the same time it’s like you're slowly falling through quicksand. It’s like you’re weightless, but entirely too heavy all at once. Nothing is really making sense to you right now, all you know is that you’re in pain, and you really, really want to wake up and ask Jungkook what’s going on. Is he okay? Are you okay? Your brain calls out to him, but nothing happens. 

Your thoughts are cut short by a sudden sharp, shooting pain in your right arm. At least, you think it’s your right arm. You can’t be entirely sure, because it feels like your limbs aren’t quite attached to your body. You’re panicking, the pain is seeping through your veins, traveling to the rest of your floating limbs, connecting all your body parts together through a burning sensation that is one of the most unpleasant feelings you’ve ever experienced. You want to scream bloody murder, you want to open your eyes, you want to figure out what’s happening to you, but you can’t. You’re stuck in this dark abyss, unable to locate your mind or your body, unable to piece them together to become one being again. 

The pain is duplicated on your left side now, the same acid like burning sensation traveling up the left side of your body. You’re starting to feel whole again, but at what cost? Your arms feel like jelly, yet you still can’t move them. They’re burning, like fire, it hurts so bad. If you could, you’d be crying out for help. For Jungkook. For Jin, for anyone to help you. You need help! Your brain is screaming out to anyone, but no one can hear you. You can’t even hear you, you can’t hear anything. You don’t even know if there is anyone around. Did Jungkook leave you? What did you do to deserve this kind of torture? For the first time in a couple of days, you think about Mina and Woo, how they would help you if they were here. You want your friends, Seokjin, Namjoon, anyone. Please��

Jungkook walked close by Jin, never straying from his side, clutching onto his hand tightly, as the seven of them traversed the forest. He hadn’t fully stopped crying since he woke up, tears blurring his vision as they travelled, thoughts of you swirling through his mind. All he could think about was you, the kiss you shared, the way you made him feel. He felt responsible for you, he was the reason you got separated from Jin in the first place, right? He took off without making sure the elder was with you. If he had just stayed, or maybe charged his stupid phone so Yoongi was able to track you, maybe you’d still be with him. There were so many things he could’ve done differently. I feel safe with you. Those words engulfed his mind. He didn’t deserve your trust, he let you down, and he would never forgive himself for it. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this low before, ever felt such a horrible pain of losing someone. He never knew his parents, never really had anyone besides Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, and Tae, so to finally have that with you, and to have it all ripped away in a few short days, was excruciating to him. 

Once they realized they lost you, Namjoon urged them to push on, to make it to the outskirts of Seoul where they could come up with a plan. They hoped they still had Yeonjun on the inside, but they couldn’t be sure until Yoongi could get to a secure location to try and contact him. For all they knew, he could’ve given them away on purpose, though Namjoon liked to find the best in people, so he wasn’t completely sold on that idea. He was trying to keep a strong frame of mind for his group, he needed to be their pillar of support right now, make sure they were safe. But he was conflicted. Shouldn’t he have kept you safe, too? They accepted you as one of their own, told you that you could trust them, and now they’ve lost you. Namjoon felt horrible, like he should’ve been able to stop this, even though the logical side of his brain told him it was no one’s fault, really, except Big Hit’s. They were the only ones to blame in all of the unfortunate situations all of them have gone through. 

While Jimin and Taehyung had yet to meet you, they could sense the pain the others were feeling. Even Hoseok’s demeanor had changed, and he barely knew you. He knew the people he loved most, loved you, he could feel it, and the fact that they were feeling pain, was bringing him down as well. Jungkook and Jin were enraptured by you, so there must be something special about you. What little time he spent with you told him that much. Would he ever get a chance to get to know you better? He hoped so. Even for the boys who weren’t close to you, they all understood the pain that you were probably in right now, and understood what you were about to be put through. Especially Taehyung. He just got back from the torturous experiments and shitty conditions they kept him in, and he hoped he would never have to return to them. The fact that you were experiencing the same, or similar things to what he had just gone through, was heartbreaking to him. 

Once they were reunited, Taehyung clung to Hoseok and Jimin, looking to them for guidance and support, unsure of his feelings. He was so happy to be free of that place, but at what cost? Now they have you, an even rarer DNA makeup, he couldn’t imagine the things they would do to you. Sure, he didn’t know you, but he was an empath by nature, and was already feeling guilty over essentially switching places with you. His freedom for yours. It didn’t sit right with him, and so he was starting to slip, following Hoseok around like a lost puppy, a glazed look in his eyes. 

Yoongi was trying to stay focused on getting to another safe house, or somewhere he would be able to potentially help you. He can’t believe the way he’s treated you since you’ve come to stay with them, and he’s been beating himself up about it since you all left the warehouse last night. He made you cry, he hurt you. You probably hated him, or at least thought he was cold, cruel even. He didn’t want you to remember him like that. Despite his often icy exterior, he didn’t like when people viewed him as cold-hearted, and he was pretty sure that’s how you saw him. He wanted to make sure he had the chance to redeem himself, to get to know you, actually know you. He was determined to get you back.

But no one was more determined, more distraught with your disappearance, than Seokjin. Not only had he spent the most time with you, and gotten to know you the best, but it was so much more than that. He could feel himself falling for you, for your shy exterior, but your deep faceted personality, your stunning features, and that adorable pout you wore when he was tending to your injuries. He was falling for you, much like he fell for the others. Maybe even harder, and he was not prepared to lose you without a fight. Aside from his strong feelings for you, he could see that Jungkook, his other half, was in just as deep, and that cut him to the core. They could have had something so special with you, with the others, that they haven’t experienced before, and you were ripped away from them. Just when he could tell Jungkook was starting to open up and blossom into the person he always hoped he’d become, you vanish into thin air. That hurt more than anything, the what if. What would happen if you were still here? Would your relationship bloom into something beautiful? Even if they get you back, which they will, Jin tells himself, you won't be the same. They all know what happens in that lab, and they couldn’t even begin to imagine how much worse it will be for you, their first female. Jin shudders at the thought, catching the attention of his companion who is clinging to the back of his t-shirt. 

Jungkook looks up at his elder with wide doe eyes, still glassy from earlier events. When Jin looked down at him, the dam that he had been holding together with a string, burst. He stopped in his tracks, making Jungkook stop as well, looking panicked as he reached out to wrap his arms around Jin. They stood in the middle of the forest, clinging to each other tightly, silently mourning the loss of what could have been.

The others slowly started to realize what was happening, one by one, and all started to gather around Jungkook and Jin, no words spoken, emotions telling their story. First was Hoseok, placing a comforting hand on Jungkook’s back, and leaning his forehead against his shoulder. Next, was Jimin and Taehyung, each wrapping an arm around their maknae to support him as he sobbed. Then, Namjoon approached the eldest, wrapping him up in a tight back hug, placing gentle kisses against the back of his exposed neck. Last was Yoongi, he was hesitant to offer his comfort, because he didn’t feel like he deserved to comfort them, didn’t feel like he deserved any place in this with how awful he had been to you. But grief at watching his love's hearts break, eventually pushed him to move, reaching up to wipe Jin’s tears away gently, as his own started to fall. 

You blinked your eyes slowly, once. Twice. Three times. You felt the haze of the Sandman try to pull you under once more, but resisted with all your might. Even though you had no grasp on how long you’ve actually been asleep, your aching body told you it’s been too long. 

You let your eyes slip shut again, the appeal of unconsciousness dangling just within grasp. You almost let it take over you, but you persist, opening your eyes one more time, blinking tightly to try and remove any leftover sleep from them. When you finally manage to peel back your eyelids, all you see is white. 

Furrowing your brow, you try and turn your head to your right, but your neck feels like you haven’t moved in it decades, cracking under the pressure of movement. You let out a soft whimper from the back of your throat at the pain, but it sounds more like a growl with how low and gravely your voice is. You don’t even recognize it to be you for a moment, still uncharacteristically sleepy. 

When you finally manage to twist your head to the side, you’re just met with more white, and more confusion. You’re in what looks like a small doctor’s exam room, like the ones you would go to at your pediatrician’s office when you were a kid. Only this one was completely void of any color or those posters that tell you about puberty. 

White walls, white tile floors, white ceiling, a white table and chair in the far corner, and a white door. No windows, no sink like you’d usually find in a doctor’s office. The room closer resembled a holding cell at a prison than anything else. You try to sit up, but your muscles resist, instead shooting a searing pain from your shoulder down to your lower back, making you yelp in surprise. 

The pain made you feel more awake than you have since you opened your eyes, and for the first time, you really take in your surroundings, realization hits you. Where is Jungkook? Jin? Anyone? You sit up, ignoring the cracking of your bones, biting back the scream that wants to escape your throat at the feeling. You wince, trying to bring your hand up to rub at your face in any attempt to wake yourself up, you must be dreaming right? Only your wrist is snapped back to the bed, a loud metal clanking sound echoing off the walls. Your head snaps down, eyes widening at the sight of a leather cuff strapped to your wrist, connected by a chain to what you can assume is the slats of the metal bed frame you’re currently laying on.  

Looking over at your other wrist, you notice it is restrained in a similar way. Panic is starting to set in, your mouth slightly agape in fear, eyes comically wide as you frantically search for a way out of here. Your breathing is labored, you can feel that black shadow of anxiety creeping up your spine, bleeding into your throat and traveling into your nose, making it hard to take a deep breath. You’re suffocating, pulling at your restraints, you can’t inhale at all, it’s like someone is holding a pillow over your face. 

“H-help!” You try and scream, but it only comes out as a garbled cry with how little air you have in your lungs. Tears are streaming down your face as you start to thrash in the bed. This can’t be happening. They got you, they took you. Did they get Jungkook, too? What about the others? The thought is enough to send you into another spiral of panic, neck straining with the need to escape. They can’t be here, you led them away, right? But, that means they probably took Jungkook, too. Or worse. 

Your chest is heaving, soft whimpers escaping your throat as you attempt to take in any air your body will allow, when the white door to your room is thrown open, bouncing off the wall adjacent to it. The panic doesn’t stop, however, when you see who walks through the door. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, willing away whatever demons were bringing you this wretched dream. This can’t be real, you reason with yourself, it’s just a horrible nightmare.

“Pearl?!” Your father shouts, coming into the small room, another, shorter man, in a white lab coat following in behind him. You barely have any time to take a look at the other person in the room, as he preps a syringe, filled with an unknown substance that only makes your fear suffocate you further. “Pearl! Can you hear me, Pearl? It’s me, it’s dad!” Your father is kneeling next to your bed now, as the strange man approaches you, needle in hand.

“N-no!” Your high pitch scream startles both men, piercing their ears as you let out a wail when the man approaches you, stabbing the needle into your bare thigh. “N-no -n-no!” your voice wavers, stuttering to a complete silence, as your body falls back against the cardboard-esque mattress. Your breathing is evening out, eyes half-lidded as your brain feels like it’s floating. You aren’t asleep, no, just floating, peaceful even.  

“Is she out?” you faintly hear your father ask.

“No, sir,” another voice sounds off, “it’s just a sedative. It’ll wear off in about an hour, but I don’t expect her to be in much better condition by then.”

You can hear them, though it kind of sounds like they’re underwater. Focus, YN, you tell yourself. Listen to what they’re saying. In your dazed state, you can’t really remember why exactly you should be listening, just that you should be listening. 

“Are you going to keep her here?” You could hear your father ask, his voice sounded… strained? Your hazy mind was confused by the pained tone of his voice. 

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” the second voice sounded professional, yet there was a hint of regret to his tone, “that was part of the deal.”

Deal. What deal? Your foggy mind tried to hold on to that piece of information, but you were in and out of consciousness, your body felt like it was floating. The next time you regained consciousness and were able to decipher the voices again, you only heard one. 

“Yeah, she’s here,” it was the second voice, the one you hadn’t recognized before, “no, I don’t.”

It sounded like he was speaking to someone, but you didn’t hear a second person anymore. You definitely didn’t hear your father.

“Look, I don’t have much time. They suspect me, but they haven’t done anything yet, though I’m expecting it soon. Yeah. I’ll try.” 

You loll your head to the side, unable to do much to hold it up. You felt heavier than you did when you woke up the last time, but you were able to open your eyes slightly to catch a yellow haired man talking into a phone. “You really need to get here soon,” his back was to you, but you could hear the urgency in his voice. He lowered his voice when he spoke his next words, “They’re getting ready to run tests, you know how-” he cuts off abruptly, pausing for a second, “I can’t Namjoon.”

Namjoon? Your brain was feeling more alert at the mention of his name. Faintly, you could hear the yelling of another voice coming through the phone speaker.  Was that really Namjoon? You were about to use all your strength to sit up and ask the young man, when the door slammed open again, another man in a white coat entering the room. The yellow haired guy immediately shoved his phone into his pocket, turning around, wide eyed. 

“Yeonjun,” the second man addressed the yellow haired one, he sounded a bit surprised, “Soomin has been looking for you.” Yeonjun, you supposed, bowed slightly, walking out of the room quickly, but not before he sent you a worried look from behind the second man’s back.

You still couldn’t move much, bones and muscles feeling like gelatin, but when the man in the white lab coat approached you, you tried to sit up and scoot away from him. It didn’t take a genius to realize exactly where you were, now that your state of mind was a little clearer. The fact that your father was here, and seemed to know exactly why you were here, only confirmed what Namjoon told you a couple nights ago. It must be the drugs doing their job, because you weren’t feeling the panic and anxiety that was suffocating you earlier. You felt a little more clarity about where you were and what was happening to you, even though you were no less scared. 

As you tried to back up against the wall, your right wrist tugged on the chain, preventing you from moving any further. The man didn’t care, though, as he continued to close in on you, eventually settling for sitting on the end of your bed. He was way too close to you for you to feel comfortable at all. You pulled your knees to your chest with all the strength you had left in you, even though you couldn’t hug them like you wanted too, you tried to make yourself as small as possible. 

“Miss Y/L/N, do you know where you are?” The man asked, his voice low and placating. You didn’t trust him, something felt off about him. You squint your eyes at him slightly, shaking your head. He takes a deep breath, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re at a testing facility for natural borns,” he begins with a smile, one that you can see right through, “we brought you here because your family sold your rights to your DNA. I’m sorry to break the news to you like this, but it will help you cope in the long run. I know it’s a lot to handle, and so we have therapists on staff to work with you-”

“I don’t believe you.” Your voice is so rough you hardly recognize it. You give one of your chains a quick tug to prove your point. You don’t miss the way his eyes flash with anger, only momentarily, before he steels his features, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Ah, yes,” he sighed, rubbing his chin with his hand, “the restraints were for our safety. We didn’t know how you would react once you were awake, but I promise we aren’t always like this, in fact, it’s actually pretty nice here once we get you set up in your own room.” The smile he wore was disgustingly fake, it was unnerving. Everything about him was unnerving. He must be a designer baby, one that borderlines the uncanny valley. He starts to reach his hand out to touch you, a creepy smile on his face that makes you want to scream, instead you shake your head quickly, making it known you don’t want him to touch you. He doesn’t care, though, instead his hand continues it’s path until it’s resting awkwardly on your ankle. It’s almost like he wasn’t human, but was trying to mimic the action of comfort that humans normally do. 

“Why am I here?” You ask quickly, your voice squeaky as you pull your foot from his grasp, eyes wide as you stare at him. 

“I told you, Miss Y/L/N,” he sighs again, like he was annoyed by your questioning, and pulls his hand back to his lap, “your family sold-”

“Why. Am I here.” You gritted your teeth, willing the tears threatening to break the dam, away.

“Miss Y/L/N,” his voice was suddenly more stern than before, turning in his seat to face you head on, “it’s better if you don’t ask questions. Things will be easier here for you if you accept it.” His words scared you more than he himself did, accept it? That’s what it came down to, right? You’re stuck here. You had no idea if you’d ever escape like the twins did, had no idea if the others even cared to get you back. 

You shook your head back and forth, dislodging some of you unshed tears, biting at your lips hard enough to draw blood. If you were stuck here, you at least needed one question answered. “Where is Jungkook?”

The man scoffed at your question, making your tears fall harder, “That boy? They left him in the forest. He’s no use for us here. Now, I have some things to go over with you.”

You sniffled hard, trying to stop the tears from flowing, as your focus wavered, not really listening to anything else he had to say. At least Jungkook wasn’t here, at least he had a chance of escaping. You could only hope that the others found him and he was able to get back to them. You didn’t know them very long, they would forget you soon enough. That was what you were going to hold on to if you had to be here. At least it wasn’t him. 

“Are you listening?” The man asked, more aggressive than before. Your head snapped up, tears still falling, as you looked him in the eye again. He lets out another sigh, standing up from the bed, “You’re going to be administered medication three times a day. You already had your first dose this morning when you were brought in, and someone will be by shortly to give you your second. It’s very important that you eat the food they give you with it, otherwise your body won't be healthy enough for testing. You’re very valuable to us here, so if you don’t take care of your body, someone else will, and I’m sure you don’t want that.” He gives you one last fake smile before turning and heading for the door. You watch him with a furrowed brow, tears flowing like a river down your face. He turns around, hand on the doorknob, “And YN, dear? Welcome to Big Hit.”

You’re not sure how long you were left alone in that insanity inducing white room before someone came back, you were too lost in your own thoughts, unable to self-soothe, due to your hands being chained to the bed. You sat as close to the wall as you could get, knees pulled to your chest as you sobbed into your knees. By the time you heard the door creak open, you were nearly out of tears, devoid of any emotion, other than hopelessness, maybe.

“YN?” A woman’s voice called out. It sounded sweet, but you knew better. You didn’t lift your head, didn’t acknowledge her at all. She huffed a little when you didn’t respond, walking into the room and closing and locking the door after her.

“YN, dear,” she said again, wheeling over a metal cart to your bedside, “you need to eat something.” She set a tray of something down on the small desk in the room, but you didn’t bother to look at it. You could smell it from here, and it didn’t smell appetizing.

When the woman realized you weren’t going to speak, she came over and sat on the edge of your bed, as far away from you as possible, as if she was afraid of you. Like I could do anything, you scoffed, mentally. 

“YN, I know you’re upset,” she sighed, “but if you don’t eat, dear, they’re going to force feed you, or worse, run a tube through your nose.” You perked up at this knowledge, head tilting to the side slightly, but still not looking at her. “I’ve seen them do it plenty of times to patients. You need to be healthy, darling.” She sounded kind, older, wiser than you. But you didn’t care. Why would you care if you were healthy? For all you knew, you could die in here. Then what was the point of eating at all? Maybe it would be better if you starved yourself to death instead of whatever horrors they were going to put you through.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” You surprised both the nurse and yourself when you spoke, your mouth betraying your brain. Your voice was even scratchier than before, and you sighed at the sound. 

“Didn’t Dongin tell you, darling?” Dongin, that must have been the white lab coated man from earlier. Did he tell you? You honestly couldn’t remember. You spaced out halfway through what he was saying, thoughts only on Jungkook. You decide that no, he didn’t, and you tell the nurse as much. “YN, you’re here for donations. I would’ve thought your father told you that long ago?” She sounded puzzled, like she didn’t really even know what was going on here. 

You looked up at her for the first time since she walked in, shocking her with the dead look in your eyes. You decided to play her to your advantage, maybe she really didn’t know what was going on.

“Tell me what?” You asked,as innocently as you could muster. 

The woman furrowed her brows at your, reaching out a hand to place on your leg. You flinch away from her, making her pull back instantly. Maybe she was kinder than the rest. No, you can’t let yourself believe that. “Darling, you were born here. The company was taking back what was theirs in the first place. Not that I agree with that, or anything, but you know how these big pharmaceutical companies work. All about their money.” She rambled on, her tone almost disbelieving that you didn’t already know the things she was telling you, but you didn’t feel like you had any answers to your questions. You only had more questions. Taking back what’s theirs? 

“What do you mean, ‘what was theirs’?” You straighten your legs out a bit, knees popping and cracking as you do. You bring your hands as far into your lap as you can without straining them against the cuffs. 

The nurse was looking even more confused than you felt, pinching her brows together tightly and pursing her lips. “I - I don’t think I should be telling-”

“Soomin!” A man, the yellow haired one from earlier, bursts through the door, cutting the woman off and making her jump at least a foot in the air in shock. Turning around quickly, Soomin stands and bows to the man before scurrying out of the room, bowing one last time for good measure, before she’s gone. The young man runs his hand through his hair, huffing a breath of air as he closes the door behind him. 

“YN-” he rushes over, dropping to his knees in front of you, frightening you into backing up as much as you could again, on the defense, “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. At least not on purpose.” He was talking so quickly you could barely keep up, “My name is Yeonjun, and I work with Namjoon and Yoongi for an organization that helps natural borns. I’m the one who helped Jimin and Tae escape yesterday, and I think the company is starting to catch onto me.” He takes a deep breath, looking over his shoulder quickly and then back at you, “I need you to listen to me, okay?” 

You nod, slowly, still not exactly following the frantic man.

“That nurse is going to come in here in about fifteen minutes to administer hormones to you,” you furrow your brow at this new information. Yeonjun must sense your confusion, because he quickly explains, “They’re trying to harvest your eggs, YN. They’re trying to use your DNA for new experimental designer babies,” he shakes his head, a look of disgust written on his face, “it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you take the hormones, and you eat. I know, I know you don’t want to, and I’m not going to lie to you, it’s going to hurt.” You wince at his words, and he softens his gaze, pursing his lips, “I’m sorry YN, but the only way I’m going to be able to get you out of here, is if you play along. They have to believe that you’re complacent before they’ll move you to a less secure area of the building. I don’t know how long it’ll take for them to move you, so I need you to play along to speed up the process, but I will do my best to deter them from… experimenting on you, for now.”

Yeonjun looks uncomfortable as both his hands grip the side of the mattress. “E-experiment?” You aren’t sure you want to know what he meant by it, but you’re sure you’ll regret it if you don’t. 

He sighs, looking sideways for a second, not wanting to look you in the eye. “It takes a long time to successfully create an embryo in a lab…” he trails off, still looking anywhere but your face, “it’s relatively… quick, in a human body.” He coughs, clearing his throat as he looks back up at your mortified face. 

The weight of where you are and what is going to happen to you here, suddenly hits you. It’s like a giant wave, crashing on top of you, pulling you under water, trapping you on the ocean floor. Your throat felt like it was closing again.

“YN, look at me,” Yeonjun begged, and you obeyed, trusting this man before you, “I’m going to do everything I possibly can to keep that from happening, but you have to comply with them, or it’s going to make it harder for me to do that. Okay? Do you understand?” You were breathing heavily, eyes blinking rapidly, but you nodded your head at him, gulping as you did.

“B-but, why? I- I don’t understand what t-the nurse said,” you stuttered, still desperately trying to suck in a decent breath of air, “what did s-she mean?”

Yeonjun looks conflicted, but answers your questions anyways, “I don’t have the entire story, but what I do know is that your dad used to work here. I guess he still kind of does, in a way? But from what I have heard, him and your mom struggled to have a baby…” he trailed off, like he really doesn’t want to answer your question. He’s staring at you with furrowed brows, like he’s trying to get a read on you, trying to determine if you’re mentally aware enough to hear this information. 

“The company agreed to… help, on one condition. You were still their property, and when you turned eighteen, you were to come back to the company. You were one of their experiments, YN.”

Your mouth drops open slightly at his words. You weren’t sure what you felt, sadness… anger? Were you not a natural born? Did you go through all that torment in school, in life, all for nothing? You were actually one of these God forsaken designer babies, forced to live a life of secrecy, and for what? To be bullied into a crippling depression? Your mind was reeling with this new information, you had no idea what you were supposed to do with this. 

“So I belong to them?” You blink your eyes tightly a few times, trying to hold back tears, unable to rub at your eyes like you want. You pull slightly at your chains, letting out a broken sob. “I-I’m one of them?” 

Yeonjun sighs, shaking his head and looking up at your watery eyes. “I’m sorry, YN, I wish I had more information about what exactly you are, and I wish I could have told you this under better circumstances. The goal was for Namjoon and Yoongi to bring you to the safe house so they wouldn’t be able to take you, but obviously that didn’t work out.” There was remorse in his words, but no anger. He understood it wasn’t their fault, or yours. It was this horrible company's fault. They were the only ones to blame. 

“I have to go, YN, I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he stood up. He placed a hand gently over your head, stroking your hair back once before turning to leave. “Please, listen to them. For now. I’m going to help you, I promise.” 

You look into his eyes one last time before he nods once, leaving the room, locking it behind him. No longer do you have the distraction of conversation to sate your mind. Now you’re free to spiral into the dark depths your brain created for you. 

Your parents have been lying to you for your entire life. Were they really even your parents? Could you trust them? Your father did seem conflicted when he was here earlier, almost like he didn’t want to leave you here. What Yeonjun said circled back in your mind. They were only supposed to have you until you turned eighteen. But you were twenty three now. Had they been the ones keeping you from Big Hit? 

You thought back to that fateful morning only a few days ago, when your father met with Hyunwoo. Was he telling him to leave you alone, would he have protected you, did you screw yourself over by leaving with Namjoon and the others? 

The others. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to them. Were they okay? You hoped so. You could only hope that they were able to get out of that forest, and finally able to reunite with one another. You hoped that Seokjin and Jungkook wouldn’t blame themselves for you being taken, though knowing what little you do know of them, they probably would. Your heart ached for them. You’ve come to care about them so much in the past few days, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said a part of you didn’t hope they would come for you. 

You heard Yeonjun on the phone earlier, though the memory was a bit fuzzy. He did tell them to come here, and even though you wished they would help get you out of here, a larger part of you hoped that they would stay away. They had a chance to be away from this place, once and for all. All of them, together. You didn’t want to stand in the way of that. 

Lost in your thoughts, you startled violently when the door to the small room opened again. It was the nice nurse from earlier, Soomin? When she shut the door behind her, she tsked at your pitiful sight. Still curled into the smallest form your restraints would allow, dried tear tracks staining your face. 

Taking a wash cloth from her little cart, she walks over to you, holding it up as a way of asking for permission. You remember Yeonjun’s words from earlier, and nod your head in acceptance. 

Soomin sighs, wiping the tears from your face, “You’ll be able to take a shower and get cleaned up once we get some food in your and you take your meds, okay?” You nod as she continues to clean your face. 

When she’s done, she brings the small plate of food over to you, setting it on the bed in front of you. Carefully, she feeds you the oatmeal and fruit, and while you would normally protest, not wanting to eat, fearful that you’ll just throw it right back up, you’re mindful of what Yeojun said. You need to be complacent. What could happen if you weren’t, was so much worse than having a nice older woman spoon feed you breakfast foods. 

After you finished off the fruit, Soomin went back to her cart, putting on gloves and setting up what looked like syringes and tiny glass bottles, holding some kind of liquid. You wince as she picks up one of the needles, bringing it to the tiny bottle, and pulling the liquid out.

“Lie back for me, YN,” she says sweetly, walking back over to the bed. You look at her hesitantly, fear in your eyes. You’ve never liked needles, always been afraid of them. “It will only hurt a little, okay, dear?”

You shut your eyes tightly and nod, just wanting to get this over with. Laying back on the brick like pillow they provided you with, you try to relax into the similarly firm mattress. When Soomin lifts your shirt gently, you jump, definitely not expecting her to touch you there. “W-wait!” you shout, louder than you mean to. “W-wait, p-please! Where are you putting that?!” You whimper, not wanting her to touch you further.

Soomin backed away for a moment, looking at you like you were a disobedient child. “Darling, it’s just a shot. It’s going to go in your lower stomach, I have a few of them.”

You shake your head, eyes filling with tears as you try and sit up, “No, please, don’t” you beg, wrists pulling at your restraints harder now.

“YN, dear, please calm down,” she shushes you, walking closer and placing a hand on your stomach, holding you down slightly, “it will be quick, okay?”

You let out a sob as she brings up the cotton pad to clean your skin for the injection. She does it on both sides of your belly, before cleaning on a small patch on your outer thigh, as well. You let her, though your body is trembling in fear as she does it. Your brain is instantly transported back to the searing pain you felt earlier when you were in your coma state. Is that what you were about to feel again? Before you could think too deeply about it, you feel her gloved hand on you again, causing you to jolt.

“Deep breath,” she says, before you feel a sharp pain in your stomach, making you jerk up and cry harder. Soomin pushes on your stomach with her free hand, holding you still. The searing pain from before flushes through your veins, not as intense as before, but hot, like the blood in your veins is boiling.

Your entire body is shaking with sobs by the time she finishes, not bothering to clean up the small drops of blood pooling at the entrance wounds. Maybe she isn’t as kind as you originally thought. 

You feel violated. You weren’t able to stop it, to defend yourself. Even though it was only a shot, only some hormones, you felt completely stripped of your rights. That experience really solidified to you that you are nothing more than property to them, a doll, to do with what they please, and that thought breaks you when you remember Yeonjun’s words again today. You have to comply. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours for your next round, dear,” Soomin says as she finishes up with your leg and leaves you. You lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling with no emotion in your eyes, but oceans of tears falling from them. You let your eyelids slip shut after a few minutes, but you’re never able to fully fall asleep. 

To be continued...

A/N: thanks for making it all the way to the end, I’m so excited to write the next couple of chapters, ahhhh!! xx

taglist:  @mrsstilinski96 @sammiilynn10192  @minifruity  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz @chim-possible @kooksremedy @irishhbamb​ @sugashaye​ @lovelyseomin​ @strawberrygatorade @kookiebbyxx​ @itneverends15713 

ok i updated tags, but some still wouldn’t let me tag!! tumblr has been doing me dirty these last couple of weeks, so please REBLOG to people can see this

[locktobre]

You asked us to remind you that you wanted to make a post about Elina and the Summers 👀?- That PCS Anon

Oh boy I have a LOT to say, some of it actually involves Elina and some not but here we go.

Lately I’ve been feeling like I should maybe adjust Elina’s place in the Summers family, bc she... almost doesn’t have one. And a lot of that has to do with me feeling like she wouldn’t really like Earth, and since she’s pretty independent in the movies, I feel like she wouldn’t necessarily jump at the chance to get to know her biological family, especially since it involves a fair amount of travel on her part. At least to see Rip; Lucinda is a distance away, but at least she’s on the same planet.

I also don’t know how Elina would reconcile her parentage yet. I don’t want to get too far away from her canon characterization, of course, so it probably shouldn’t be too angsty... but it also can’t not affect her at all, and I don’t know where the middle ground is. So, there’s all that to figure out, and this really has to be decided before I can decide where (if anywhere) Elina really fits among her siblings. (And not really being involved is a valid choice, imo. I say this as someone with 4 estranged half-siblings myself lol.)

And that’s just where she begins. She can, and should, develop as time goes on. I’ve got stories for some of the Summers going out for decades, and regardless of what Elina decides when she’s 16, by the time she’s 92, she should probably be different. Otherwise she’s just a static character, and Elina grows a lot over just three movies (which at least one of the novelizations have within just a few months of each other), so the idea that she would never change over that long of a time is just absurd. But she’s so up in the air, I can’t really decide on an arc for her to have. It’s just a long, tedious process unfortunately bc it’s a lot of analysis to decide where she starts, and then where I want her to go.

One thing I do want Elina to do would happen when she was 33. See, for his 16th birthday, Rillian wants to visit Mermaidia. He’s really interested in mermaid history and wants to know what mermaids are like when they’re not from Earth, bc he’s heard stories but obviously never met any. Roxana wants to go too, but since she wants to become Queen of Oceana in a year and a half and that’s already a lot for her parents to process, she’s not about to piss Rip off by asking to traipse off to Mermaidia.

However, Rillian doesn’t have any such designs, so he’s ready to push the issue, and Rip is not happy.

Rip’s time in Fairytopia wasn’t... awful. It was interesting, of course; he saw a lot of things he couldn’t have imagined, and was very aware of his (probably) being the first human to ever do so. But he didn’t choose to go there, and he couldn’t leave, and the whole time he was there he was thinking about the fact that Merliah was growing up without her father (or maybe that she wasn’t, that something could have happened to her and he wasn’t there). So it was emotionally very taxing, and even 17 years after the fact, he really doesn’t want any of his family to go there. Even if it’s safe and there’s virtually no chance of them getting trapped like he did, he doesn’t want to take that risk.

Rillian’s aware of this, obviously. And he also knows that even if he’s technically an adult by mermaid standards, he’s still got 2 years left in his parents’ eyes before he can really go out and do whatever he wants. (Calissa is on Rip’s side as far as adulthood is concerned.) He could just wait 2 years and go and Rip couldn’t stop him, but frankly he doesn’t want to wait. He’s an impatient kid. So he calls in the big guns: Elina.

(Is this perhaps a shitty thing to do to your dad, knowing perfectly well how he feels? Yes. But he’s a kid and he’s going to try to get his way.)

Anyway, so then Elina shows up, and she’s very much on Rillian’s side. Fairytopia’s perfectly safe, or at least as safe as Earth is; as long as you don’t do anything stupid, you’ll probably be fine. And she’ll be there to show Rillian around on land, and she has mermaid friends that can show him around underwater. He won’t just be wandering around by himself somewhere where he could get into a dangerous situation. Elina knows about the 18 vs 16 thing, but she doesn’t really think it matters bc Rillian won’t be a kid forever, and would it really be better if he just goes in 2 years when you can’t stop him? He’s trying to work with you, he called me in here to argue for him, and that alone proves that he is taking this seriously.

At this point, Rip is very torn, bc they are technically making good points, but he’s still so anxious at thought of any of his family being there. (Including Elina, btw. But he didn’t meet her til she was already grown and she doesn’t like Earth and he couldn’t exactly tell her “abandon everything you know and come live with me, a stranger” so he’s just kept his mouth shut about it.) No amount of thinking about it being safe (even while he was there!) will really change the separation anxiety in the back of his head.

Calissa, for her part, has mostly sided with Rip bc she thinks that Rillian should wait and go on his own time. She’s not opposed to him going at all, and in fact she wants to visit Fairytopia one day herself, but she’s basically decided to wait until Rip is dead so he doesn’t have to think about it lol. (The perks of it basically being guaranteed that you’ll outlive your spouse, I guess. You can do whatever you want when they’re gone! Not that Rip would actively prevent Calissa from doing what she wanted, certainly not, but she knows how much it would kill him.) She knows Rillian won’t wait that long, but he could wait a few years more, like Roxana’s going to, since she also wants to go, but she’s gonna wait til she’s Queen and Rip can’t tell her no anymore.

But Rillian’s not the waiting type, and even if that’s a dick move, he feels like it’s also a dick move for Rip to not let him take a supervised trip to a place that he’s already been. Like, what if he wanted to go to Paris and stay with Alice for 2 weeks? Would that be fine? And if it is fine, then why not Elina in Fairytopia (and Mermaidia)? And what if I do wait 2 years and essentially go behind your back, do you really think that’s better?

Anyway, the discussion goes on for a long time, but eventually Rip agrees to a weekend trip, and if that goes well, they can think about more visits in the future. Rillian’s disappointed bc 2 days really isn’t that long, but he pushed it this far and knows to quit while he’s ahead, and he’s actually pretty far ahead. So that’s the story of how Rillian first visits Fairytopia and Mermaidia, with Elina chaperoning (and also Nori and Nalu, in the water). Big sister Elina to the rescue, for perhaps once in her life... or maybe not, depending where she ends up. But I do think that would be a significant moment, and Rillian would probably end up closer to her than anyone else bc of it. (“Closer” being a relative term, tho, no pun intended.) We’ll see.

The only other one I think of her getting close to, farther in the future, is Roxana’s daughter Ariella. Maybe. I’m still deciding what I want to do with her. But so far, that’s it. And I might keep it that way, bc Elina’s got her own thing going on and that’s fine, she doesn’t really have to be tied up with her family that she doesn’t really know just bc they share blood. If it happens, it happens, but if it doesn’t, she’ll just pop up occasionally when someone reaches out.

All my posts these days are rambles but I’m getting into the future parts of my barbieverse, which means I’m leaving canon behind so I have to decide everything and it takes me years to make decisions lmao

[glitterandmoondustofficial]

Side To Side

Chapter 188: Cut The Cord

Characters: Law, Ruby, Jun, Ikkaku Rating: T Warnings: Language, Non-descriptive gore, kissing, anger Notes: (:

~~~~~~

Law stared forward towards a town, his heart racing.

There was an opportunity to kill Doflamingo, right now. As in right now.

“Go on,” Ruby said from his side. They had been out on an island, walking around when they found out that Doflamingo was on the island as well. At first, he was shaken to his core. Fear spread in his body. He wasn’t ready yet. His crew was nearby. But opportunities just don’t appear like this. This is his best chance. He had to take it. “We need to go.”

He looked back at her, her expression unreadable. He took a deep breath. “Get back to the Tang.”

“I’m not going to let you do this alone,” she argued.

“Ruby, please.” He pleaded with her. He gave her a hard, no nonsense stare, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t sincere. She needed to be on the sub, not only protecting the crew but herself. He wasn’t going to get her involved with this. Knowing her and her track record, she’d get hurt or worse, killed. One of his greatest fears is his crew getting hurt, and he’s already proven that he’s pretty much useless when Ruby gets hurt. If she died, he’d absolutely lose it.

Ruby frowned at him, her eyes telling him that she was thinking over everything quickly. She swallowed and let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll get home.” She clenched her fist. She lifted her arms up and wrapped them around his neck. Her arms shook as she held him. “Come back to me.” She whispered to him.

He hugged her with his left arm and breathed in her perfume. “Always.” They separated. Law looked over to Ikkaku and Jun, they both had worried looks on their faces, holding each other’s hands tightly. “Protect them, Ruby.” He told her and she nodded.

“Yes, Captain.” She turned to them. “Let’s go, we need to get back to the sub so I can protect you and the others. Full speed, don’t stop for anything.” They both straightened up and nodded, letting go of each other’s hand.

Ruby spared him one last glance, her eyes telling him to stay safe and don’t be stupid. He smirked confidently at her and she gave him a small relieved smile. The three women ran ahead and Law stared after them for a moment. He looked at Ruby’s back, and took a deep breath. He memorized her back. He memorized the smell of her perfume. This might be the last time he saw her, so he kept her in his sight until she disappeared into the horizon.

He took a deep breath and calmed his shaking nerves. He took a step forward. Good thing his gut told him to take Kikoku today, he definitely needed her. He started to walk off, the rumor of the inn that Doflamingo and The Family were staying in wasn’t that far.

This could be so simple. He could simply take The Family by surprise. Take care of each one of them. Kill his wife and piss him off even more. He doubted he actually loved her. Law was sure that she was just his doll that he played with when he was bored. That man never had genuine relationships or love for anyone. It was all about manipulating people into doing what he wanted. It was a family, he knew. He was part of it at one point; but it was a corrupted, bastardized version of a family.

Law would take that fantasy away from them. He’d rip it to shreds and laugh in their faces. Even if it took his life, he was going to carry on Cora-san’s will. It was his duty to kill Doflamingo and he’d finish it all.

He carefully and slowly walked towards the inn. He had to be careful not to be seen. Anything that could tip off The Family would resort in leaving his crew in danger. He couldn’t open a Room yet, he’d be discovered far too easily. He had to absolutely be careful and calculating and discreet. He took in a deep, calming breath. He needed to be calm, or this would never work.

He found a tree outside the inn and discreetly jumped into a tree. He stood in the branch, his intense gold eyes staring at the inn. He watched for any movement. All was quiet and it was tense. He watched a door in one of the larger rooms open. A tall woman, a little taller than 243 cm, walked through the door. She had brown skin and gold eyes, long brown hair with a jeweled red rose in her hair. She was dressed up in obviously grand attire. It definitely wasn’t something the average person could afford. Her expression was one of disinterest. That was her. That was Lucia. That was his wife. He didn’t want to think about the fact his and her features were similar. He ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Soon, he saw red. Or should he say pink? Law watched with bated breath as he watched that motherfucker walk into the room with Lucia. His whole body stopped. His heart, his lungs, every single nerve ending. Anxiety coursed through his veins. He suddenly felt cold. Like he was 13 and sobbing in the snow. His breath came out in puffs.

Doflamingo said something with a smirk on his face and started to take off his sunglasses. Lucia walked to the window and stared out of it. Her gold eyes were dull and tired. She closed her eyes slowly before closing the curtains.

Law gasped for air, like he had just been strangled. His stomach calmed down and he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He took one last deep breath and fixed himself with a glare. It was the waiting game now.

~~~~~

“So…” Ikkaku started.

“So.” Jun continued.

“We were definitely kidnapped.”

“Yeah.”

“You two,” Ruby groaned. “I’m working on it.” She struggled against the sea prism handcuffs.

“You think Doflamingo knew we were on the island?” Ikkaku asked

“I don’t know,” Ruby admitted. “I don’t know what is going on. There’s a lot to think about if Doflamingo actually is the mastermind behind this.” Like how a giant target was now painted on her back. Doflamingo would definitely kill her and parade her body around Law if he knew about their relationship. She gritted her teeth.

“Who the hell are you and why are you blocking my way?” Ruby asked, getting in front of Ikkaku and Jun.

“We’re here to take care of you.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Ruby eyed the group around them. She flicked her wrist, her scian duille appearing in her finger tips. She threw two at the henchmen by Jun and Ikkaku, both of them falling to the ground dead. Everyone else sprung into action. Most of them focused on her, but a couple on Jun and Ikkaku. Jun was able to fight them off easily, Ikkaku struggled a bit but was keeping her own.

Ruby was able to take down everyone, her vines tangling everyone up and squeezing them until passed out. She sensed, with her observation haki, the gunshot before she heard it, moving away just in time. There was another gunshot and Ruby used her vines to grab Ikkaku out of the way. She needed to find that shooter.

“Come on,” Ruby yelled. “Let’s get back to the sub, I can carry you both!” She exclaimed and ran over to them, kneeling down to throw them both over her shoulders.

“I can run by mys-” Jun squeaked when she was thrown over Ruby’s shoulder.

“Shut up.” Ruby said and started to run off. She carefully avoided gunshots. She refused to be shot ever again. Getting shot sucked. She was concentrating so hard on not getting shot that she was, unfortunately, tripped fairly easily. All three women tumbled to the ground. By the time that Ruby recovered, guns were pointed at Jun and Ikkaku.

She looked at her feet, tangled up in a bolas. She sighed and lifted her arms in surrender.

“Fuck.” She muttered under her breath.

“Indeed.”

Ruby worked up a glare and looked in the direction of a self-important looking douchebag. She squinted and then rolled her eyes.

“Ugch,” she groaned. “Why won’t you assholes leave me alone?”

“You killed Knotely,” he said, stating the obvious.

“I’ll kill you, too, Viggo.”

“And how will you do that? You’re handcuffed with sea prism. Looks like you’ll have to play damsel in distress for this one.” Ruby rolled her eyes again. Fuck that. “Of course, you won’t be rescued. Your captain is preoccupied.”

“I take it you’re still working under Joker, despite your boss being tragically murdered.”

“Of course.”

“Of course.” Ruby scoffed. “So, of course, Joker knows we’re here.”

“Incorrect.” Ruby’s eyebrows raised. “My loyalty was to Knotely, not Joker. I don’t care if your captain takes care of him, as long as he’s distracted and not rescuing you.”

“Fantastic. Well, you won’t have to worry about that. Law is completely distracted right now.”

Viggo smirked. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to set up some things to take care of you.”

“You could at least let my crew go.”

“They’ll get your captain.”

“No they won’t.” Ruby looked over to Ikkaku and Jun. “No you won’t.” They both shook their heads. “See?”

“See you in a bit, Iunia.” Viggo left and Ruby groaned.

“You really pissed off a lot of people, Rube.” Ikkaku said flatly.

“Shut up, I know.” She sighed. “I’ll get us out of this, don’t worry.”

“Not going to wait for Captain?”

“Uhhh, no. I’m perfectly capable of saving myself. This dumbass cuffed me with my hands in front of me instead of behind my back.” She said and started to tap her left heel against the concrete floor.

“What are you doing?” Jun asked.

“Ruining my new pair of stilettos.” She slammed her shoe down on the concrete, the heel of the shoe coming off. She picked up the broken piece of her shoe and looked at it. “Hmph, sure is a waste to be using such cute heels like this.” She straightened her back, waiting for the next opportunity.

~~~~~

Law rubbed his fingers together while clenching Kikoku in his other hand. Still no movement. No sign of anyone leaving the inn at all. He took a deep breath. It was time.

He opened a Room and teleported into the inn. No movement. No one around. He easily found the room where Doflamingo and Lucia were staying. He stood close to the door, his hand out, ready to create another room. He heard a snore from the other side of the door. Adrenaline filled his body. He felt himself grin. This was it. This was it. He was going to stand over Doflamingo’s body and watch the life fade from his eyes as he killed him.

He wouldn’t have to waste his energy on the doll that Doflamingo kept around.

He opened a Room.

And that’s when the mini den den mushi went off.

Fear wracked his body as the snores stopped from the other side of the door. Law quickly left the hallway, jumping out of a nearby window and hopped onto the roof. He snarled at the den den mushi.

“What?!” He snapped at the damn thing.

“Captain,” Shachi called. “Where are you?”

““Where am I?” Didn’t Ruby fucking tell you where I am?”

“Uh, no. Ruby isn’t here. We figured you four were still out dicking around.”

Law stared at the den den mushi. “They’re not on the Tang?” He felt his temper rise. Where the fuck was Ruby? She knew better than to fuck this up for him.

“No, they never returned.”

“Fucking... I’m going to…” He hung up and started to dial Ruby’s number. It rang and it rang. Until someone answered. Someone who wasn’t Ruby.

“Ah, I see that she had this hidden away on her.”

Great. She was kidnapped. “Just give her up. Put her back on my ship and I’ll take care of you later.”

“Don’t worry about it, Law!” He heard Ruby yell. “I got this!”

“Shut up.” Law heard a smack. “Anyway, I’m going to torture and drown her. You go do whatever you want to do to the person who is most important to you.”

“Wha-”

*click*

Law stared at the stupid snail.

Okay, Trafalgar, think this through.

Doflamingo is within his grasp. He’s so close he can taste it. He sat on the roof, staring up at the sky.

The most important person.

He blinked and looked down. He saw Baby 5 walk outside, talking to some man with hearts floating around her. He sighed and laid back. He stared at the den den mushi.

“Would you give this all up if it meant your family was still alive?” Ruby asked Law one night.

“Dunno.” He said. “I don’t know how I’d feel if they were somehow magically alive.” He looked over to her brushing her hair. “Would you?”

“No.”

“No hesitation whatsoever?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

Ruby smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Because I have you guys. I don’t need anyone else.”

Law sighed. “I would do anything to have Cora-san and Lammy back.”

Ruby nuzzled his cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be depressing.” She kissed his cheek again.

“I’d also do anything to kill him.”

“I know, love.” She squeezed his hand. “I believe in you, you’ll do it eventually. You just need to be patient. The opportunity will come at the right time.”

Law let out a breath and closed his eyes. He put the den den mushi away and sat back up with a hard gaze. “She’s right.”

~~~~~~

“That’s really gross.” Jun said as she unlocked Ikkaku’s handcuffs. Ikkaku looked over to Ruby. She was rolling her neck and looking tired due to being chained up.

“Well, sorry, but I had to kill him somehow,” Ruby said.

“By shoving that heel into his eye? That’s just disgusting.”

“I did what I had to. Hurry up and unlock me, these cuffs are really annoying. It took all my energy just to do that, I can’t even stand now.”

Ikkaku rubbed her wrists and watched Jun walk over to Ruby. Jun uncuffed Ruby, and they both sighed in relief. Ruby stood up, barefoot. She looked over to Ikkaku and frowned, worried.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“No,” Ikkaku shook her head. “I’m just...you don’t care that Captain isn’t going to come for you?”

“What? You’re worried about that now?” Ruby smiled at her. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she changed the subject. “I’m worried about the crew.” She led the way, running out of the room that would have been her torture chamber.

“Why are you worried?” Jun asked quietly.

“Because...if he chose his revenge over her safety, I might kill him.” Ikkaku said seriously. “I don’t want her to hurt because he did that.”

“She’ll be okay. We need to go before we get left behind.” Jun grabbed her hand and ran forward, leading her away and catching up to Ruby. “Do you know the way out?”

“No, do you?”

“No.”

“Awesome.” Ruby sighed. “Well, we’ll just open doors until we figure it out. Stay close so I can protect you.”

Ruby ran off down the hallway, running up to the door and swinging it open, bumping into something... someone. Ruby snapped back to reality quickly before immediately relaxing.

“What are you doing here?” Ruby asked

“What am I doing here?!” Law asked, appalled that he was really being asked such a question. “What are you doing here?! I thought you were being tortured!”

“Well, I was going to be, but I took care of it. How did you even find us? Why are you here? What about Doflamingo?”

Law frowned and looked away. “He...it wasn’t…” Law scoffed loudly and looked at her feet. “Why are you barefoot?!”

“Feel better?” Jun asked Ikkaku quietly, with a smile.

Ikkaku sighed. “Yeah.”

“Come on,” Law turned around and squatted down. “Get on before I change my mind.” Ruby grinned and climbed on his back. Law shoved Kikoku into Ikkaku’s hands as he gave Ruby a piggyback ride out of the building. “The last thing we need is you stepping on a rusty nail and getting tetanus. You know, you need to be more careful and…”

Ikkaku smiled in relief as she watched Law lecture Ruby. Ruby just grinned and hugged Law from behind, a happy flush on her cheeks.

~~~~~

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Ruby handed Law a glass of wine. “I mean, he was right there.”

“I know.” He said, his fiery anger from before still there, but now just low burning embers in his heart. He took a long swig of the wine.

“Then why? I told you I had it covered.”

Law looked at her. He watched her sip her red wine. He sighed. He reached out for her face and pulled her in roughly. He kissed her. He kissed her hard. He dropped the wine glass and buried his fingers in her hair with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist.

She was surprised at first, but quickly responded, kissing him back with fervor. She wrapped her free arm around his neck and leaned into him. He picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked her back to their bed and laid her down on it, knocking the wine glass out of her hand. He pulled away and looked at her flushed face.

“You go do whatever you want to do to the person who is most important to you.”

“L-Law, not that I’m complaining but-”

“Shut up,” he told her. She closed her mouth and stared up at him. He kissed her again and pressed her against the matters. He pulled on her hair and bit her lip.

He whispered that he loved her to her lips, and he received a smirk in return.

[thethespacecoyote]

Another Bad Things Happen Bingo! This time “hair matted with blood” and I wanted to give Kylo a little pain and Hux the chance to be a bit of a badass when they get stranded on a jungle moon. Enjoy!Hux regains consciousness to the sound of rain. Hux regains consciousness to the sound of rain. 

Hux regains consciousness to the sound of rain.

He flutters his eyelids, groaning as he palms his forehead and tries to sit up. Somethings wrapped tight around his chest, holding him in place, and it takes a moment for him to figure out they’re security belts.

Memories come back to him slowly as his vision swims back to clarity, revealing the small cockpit around him. Right.

Hux had been traveling back from a brief overview of an outpost on Va’art. The ship is a small Chi-class shuttle, meant only for scouting and short-distance interplanetary travel. It held only two seats and a small cargo hold, with no room at all for additional troops. Hux hadn’t think they’d needed them, as the mission that’d been interrupted had been one of negligible danger that only required his and Ren’s presence. Considering his co-commander’s strength and Hux’s skill with his own personal arms, he’d figured they didn’t need anything more.

Hux isn’t about to admit that he’d underestimated the danger, however—as no one, not even a sorcerer like Ren, could have predicted the sudden failure of the shuttle’s engines and the ensuing emergency descent right into a swath of trees.

So much for Ren’s expert piloting skills.

Smugness rises in Hux’s face, before it’s abruptly replaced with fear.

Wait—Ren.

Hux jerks in his seat, eyes falling upon the man sitting besides him. Ren hangs forward, held to his seat only by the belts strapped over his shoulders and criss-crossed over his chest. His arms limply sit in his lap, and when Hux grabs him by the shoulder and tries to sit him up properly his head lolls back to reveal a thick trail of blood streaming down his temple from the edge of his matted hairline.

Hux swallows and brushes away the stiff locks stuck to Ren’s head, uncovering a nasty wound on his scalp. It looks deep and filled with welling blood, probably sustained during the chaos of the crash.

He feels for a pulse in Ren’s neck, his own hammering in his ears as he presses his fingers firmly into his skin. He finds a soft throb, but Ren doesn’t stir when Hux lightly pats his cheek or shakes his shoulder.

“Ren,” Hux cries, voice hoarse from disuse. “Wake up. Answer me.”

When he stays silent Hux claws at the belt strapping him to the seat, nails smarting as he forces himself to stop for the sake of his racing heartbeat. He shuts his eyes tight and tries to breathe, to focus, to think of a plan rather than working himself into a frenzy.

Thankfully the control panel hadn’t been too badly damaged in the crash. At the very least, Hux can still access the emergency distress signal, so hopefully that means help will arrive sooner rather than later. Hux busies himself with that, leaving Ren alone for the time being, before taking stock of the damage to the ship.

The transparisteel shield ensconcing the cockpit has been badly warped in the crash, now unable to complete close and seal the interior off. Hux supposed he should count his stars that the moon they’d landed upon had a hospitable atmosphere, or else it would have already leached inside and suffocated them both.

He’s not sure he could get the shuttle off the ground, even if he knew how to pilot the damn thing. If Ren was awake, perhaps he could help after jibing at Hux’s lack of skill, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. He’d sent out the relief signal but beyond that there isn’t much to do but sit and wait and pray Ren doesn’t die of his injuries in the meantime.

Hux drags a hand over his chin, trying to take the deep breaths needed to slow his racing heartbeat. It’s not so simple, as his chest and stomach smart from where the safety belts had dug into his skin, stressing him further. Surely they’ll be bruised when medical takes a look at them later on, when both he and Ren are safely back aboard the Finalizer. Hux isn’t exactly happy with the idea, but at least he hadn’t sustained worse injuries. At least they weren’t both unconscious, neither able to send out a proper distress signal.

The blood on Ren’s head is still flowing, so Hux grabs the end of his cape from where it drapes over the end of the seat and, with a bit of effort, manages to rip two long strips from it. He balls one up in his fist, pressing it to the side of Ren’s head. He flinches as Hux jostles the wound, but doesn’t wake even as the general clumsily ties the other strip around his head, securing the makeshift bandage in place.

It’s an utter hack-job, but it’s the best Hux can do until help arrives, so he checks Ren’s pulse one more time and settles back in his seat to inspect where they’ve crash-landed.

Outside he can’t see much, the only proper illumination that of Va’art teal-ish glow and the distant background of stars managing to perforate through the rainclouds. He can vaguely make out the uncultivated tops of vegetation, like they’ve landed in the midst of some large forest. One of the planet’s moons, perhaps? Hux vaguely remembers reading that the largest of them is mostly open wilderness.

Hux steals a look out of the corner of his eyes, but Ren’s position hasn’t changed. He still slumps back in his seat, blood on his face trailed all the way down to his chin. The makeshift bandage clapped to his skull already glistens red. Hux sighs tensely.

If Ren isn’t going to wake up any time soon then he hopes rescue arrives promptly. Hux feels he might be driven mad if he has to sit here any longer, listening to the patter of rain on the hull and the chatter of wildlife in the distance.

Just as Hux feels himself start to properly calm down, a screech echoes from the outside of the shuttle. He jolts in his seat, spine painfully straight as his heart surges once more, hammering in anxiety. Just as the first cry fades away another joins it, and another, and another, until the air outside roils with a cacophony of noise.

Hux brushes his fingers against the transparisteel, almost afraid of what he might find looking back at him from the outside in.

Through the veins of rain trickling against the shield he can see shapes prowling out of the thick of the forest, nothing distinct but ominous enough to make Hux shiver. Pinpricks of orange glow like distant torches, moving in pairs about the clearing as they slowly encroach upon the shuttle.

Hux swallows down his fear, brain grasping for a plan. He can’t tell what the creatures are at this distance nor how much a threat they pose to him, but he’s not going to be caught underestimating the situation and putting himself and Ren in further danger.

With the cockpit’s shield damaged there’s nothing much separating them from the creatures circling outside. Hux reasons if they’re ravenous enough they can easily pry open the mangled transparisteel and get at them, as if they were a meal already vacuum sealed in convenient packaging.

But perhaps if Hux can scare them off—

He grabs his blaster from his belt and warms it up, stealing one last look at Ren’s unconscious body before he grips the edge of the crumpled shield and pries it open, the sound of wrenching durasteel cutting across the clearing.

Hux leans partially out of the cockpit, blaster raised. Through the worsening rain he can see the creatures prowling closer, yellow eyes glowing like flares. He swallows down his fear, aims, and fires at the feet of the closest beast.

It yowls as the bright red blaster bolt sizzles into the ground, missing by a hair but Hux hopes it’s enough to scare them off.

“Stay back!” He shouts, summoning all his oratorial power as he prepares to fire another shot should his voice not intimidate them. The creature he missed skulks about the torched grass, already wet with the rain, its large furry tail flicking behind it. It seems the largest of the pack, leading by default of its size. Hux trains the blaster between its orange eyes, trying not to let the rain soaking through his coat distract him. He sees it tense, even at a distance, even through the dark mist creeping down around them.

Hux instantaneously tracks the creature as it leaps through the air towards him, sniping it in the chest with his blaster before it gets too close. It screeches as the bright red bolt buries into its chest and through the heart, killing it outright.

But any exhilaration Hux may feel at the perfect shot quickly bleeds out of him.

The creature’s corpse sails through the air and slams against the side of the shuttle, sending shudders through the entire thing. Hux yelps and falters, losing grip on his blaster as he grabs at the mangled transparisteel, struggling to keep upright. Unfortunately the ragged edges slice at the fingers of his glove, blood slicking his grasp and causing him to fall forward, out of the shuttle and onto the muddy ground below.

Hux gasps at the impact as it rattles through his chest, temporarily knocking the wind from his lungs. Dazed, he struggles to push himself up on his knees, bracing one hand back against the hull of the shuttle. Through his swimming vision he can see the yellow eyes of the creatures stalking closer, apparently undaunted by the death of their fellow, chattering reaching a clamorous volume.

This close, he can see what they are—panthacs, creatures Hux knows only from the Empire’s old holorecords. Prolific breeders and vicious hunters, traits that make them especially disastrous to the local fauna of any planets they’ve been introduced to. As well as any humanoids that might cross them.

Hux’s hand curls around the phantom grip of his blaster, cursing himself for losing hold of it. If only he knew how to work Ren’s blasted saber—but he’d rather not press the wrong button or swing it wrong and risk the whole thing blowing up in his face. He can’t decide which is a worse fate—ripped apart by rapacious beasts on an uncharted moon, or burnt to ash by Ren’s unstable weapon.

Hux squints against the rain and the residual blurriness in his sight, pushing himself up to his full height. He pants, watching the panthacs, their grinning fangs and claws kneading into the wet earth. Looking almost triumphant, if mindless beasts could even have such emotions, now that they’ve finally stripped their prey of his last defenses.

Hux smirks to himself, raising his hand out to the side.

Even without his blaster, he’s not that helpless.  

He flicks the vibroblade out of his sleeve, flipping it once before gripping the handle tight. He levels the tip right at the closest of the panthacs, body tensing in anticipation. It tilts its head, orange eyes narrowing as its long tail whips behind it.

Hux’s combat skills concern mostly humanoid opponents, with focus on disarming and deflection. He doesn’t know how to apply that to defense against beasts like the ones stalking him now, but there’s only one way to learn—quickly.

Mud and moss flies as the closest panthac leaps at Hux, giving him only a split second to react. He lunges forward on one leg and strikes out, weapon held sideways in his hand. He nearly loses his grip on the handle as the blade sinks into the creature’s striped flank, slicing its flesh down the ribs. He lets his body follow the momentum of the strike, spinning around to face the panthac as it stumbles to the ground, bleeding heavily from the side besides the other member of its pack Hux had killed.

He spits a little rainwater out of his mouth, keeping an eye on the other panthacs in his periphery as he kicks the injured beast, crushing its damaged flank inwards and finishing it off.

Adrenaline aroused and tingling out from his core down to his fingertips, Hux turns towards the remnants of the pack. Hux anticipates more hesitancy now that they’re down two of their numbers but they only slink closer. He counts four, five of them through the slants of rain, hears their grating cries double in volume through the heavy patter of the rain. A  slightly crazed smile flitters over his lips, even as he meets certain death head on.

He wonders if this is what Ren feels like.

Before Hux can blink two of the creatures are sprinting towards him, rain flying off their bristling fur. Hux thrusts the vibroblade through the palate of the first as it tries to bite a chunk out of his arm, though he doesn’t move quick enough to avoid the fang that scrapes his wrist as its jaw shudders in its death throes. He falls back against the hull of the shuttle as he shoves the corpse aside, only for the creature behind it to launch itself at him.

Hux snaps his arm up and out, spearing the beast’s throat on the vibroblade—but not before its claws slash in a sharp diagonal, slicing four long lines across Hux’s chest.

The general collapses along with the creature, back sliding against the hull as his legs give out beneath him. The vibroblade falls from his fingers to sink into the earth beneath him as he tips over on his side, one arm limply dropping over his torso.

Hux coughs, blood spattering over his lips. Even the heavy rain can’t wash it away, nor can it obscure the deep rends carving up his chest. The long claws of the beast have torn right through his uniform, leaving it in red, raggedy strips that reveal the mangled flesh beneath. He presses his hand to his chest in a fruitless attempt to stem the tide, wincing at the awful pain.

Hux is used to bruises and cuts, broken bones and sprains. Deep, ruinous wounds that cut the body to the quick and spill blood like the endless outpouring of rain are new.

Wounds like those he’d found Ren with when he’d dragged him from the collapsing Starkiller Base, the  devastating fissure splitting his body from his cheek to his chest. Though it’s covered now in reddened flesh and metallic film, worn like a mark of adversity.

Of course, there won’t be time for Hux’s wounds to heal over into links of pink upon his chest, lines Ren could trace with a smirk as he makes some remark on Hux’s bravery, on how the steely general had put himself in such danger to save the life of a man he’d always claimed to hate.

Darkness bleeds in the edges of Hux’s vision, making the world around him somehow colder and more terrifying than before. He can still make out the cruel orange eyes of the remaining panthacs as they advance upon him, captivated by the spill of his blood.

Stars, he’s going to die here, isn’t he? Ripped apart and eaten by the whole pack of these things. And once they’ve finished desecrated him, they’ll move onto Ren and kill him too, if he hasn’t died already. Unless rescue arrives while they’re gnawing on Hux he’ll be dragged from the cockpit and down onto the muddied earth, or simply eaten where he lies, strapped unconscious into his seat. The two greatest commanders in the Order, now nothing more a bloody feast for mindless monsters.

Hux’s chest hitches as he tries to breath in, only for sharp pain to cut through the effort as he hacks violently, feeling something solid dislodge in his throat.

This has all been for naught.

Through the pound of the rain Hux hears the circling clomp of the creatures’ paws, their shrill calls as they no doubt size up how they’d prefer to eat him. His eyelids flutter, cold spreading through his extremities. He can only hope that he’ll die of his wounds or suffocate in blood before they rip him apart.

Something weighty thumps to the ground right in front of him, sinking deep into the mud. Hux pants heavily and raises his head, trying to meet his death with some last shred of dignity. He can’t see any glistening jaws or looming orange eyes but he still hears the yelps of the panthacs, though they’ve stopped growing louder and instead sound distressed.

The last thing Hux sees before he blacks out is a column of bright, deadly red kindling into life through the rain. Distantly he recognizes the sound of plasma igniting, the warlike growl that cuts above the screaming creatures—but then he knows no more.

——

“General.”

Hux feels fingers brush over his forehead as he starts to wake, though they quickly retreat as soon as he musters his eyes open. He tries to sit up, only for the same fingers to return, firmer, on his shoulder to keep him down.

“You’re healing. Remain still.”

Hux glances in the direction of the voice, heart leaping and—sure enough, Ren sits at his side, so close he almost looms over him. Alive. Just like Hux is.

They’ve both made it through.

“Are…” Hux breathes, trying not to cringe at the crack of his own voice, “are we aboard the Finalizer?”

Ren nods. There’s a large bacta patch plasters above his brow, skin around it slightly yellowed from bruising. His hair is tied up off his face which makes him look strange, more exposed than is usual. The concern in his expression is oddly naked, as if Ren hasn’t the strength or care to hold it back.

“Ah. That’s good. Very good.” Hux half closes his eyes, relieved to finally be back aboard his beloved vessel.

His chest twinges with each falling breath, like when the medics fixed him up they accidentally made his lungs too small. But it’s better, Hux has to admit, than bleeding out on the grass on some savage jungle moon.

“I assume you killed all the creatures?” Hux recalls Ren’s lightsaber from the dark of his memory. “Must’ve been…far easier for you.”

“Easier, because you depleted half their ranks.” Hux looks up at the compliment, a little surprised. Never before has Ren praised his methods, nor much else about him. But the man genuinely looks a bit pleased at Hux’s body count, as if the act of bloody, hands-on killing has brought a new kinship between them.

“I never knew. I always thought your combat experience was…purely theoretical.”

“It is,” Hux scoffs. “Well. Mostly.” He’d gotten into his fair share of deadly scraps at the Academy but—Ren doesn’t need to know about those right now.

“Not anymore, I suppose.” Ren rests his hand against Hux’s wrist, where a bacta patch wraps around the wound left by the panthac’s fang. “You could use further teaching.”

Hux snorts.

“I think I’ll leave the fighting to you next time.” To his surprise, he permits Ren to continue stroking his forearm, touch full of an odd reverence. “Not that it wasn’t affirming, to be the one rescuing you, but I’d rather not have my chest rent open again.”

“A one-time miracle, then.”

“Ah. And you would know about miracles, wouldn’t you Ren? You damn mystic.” Hux smiles, amused to have earned a fraction of his co-commander’s respect. He never thought Ren would regard him with anything but contempt and grudging cooperation. This is entirely new territory, yet Hux isn’t thinking to shun it. It feels good.

Ren stays by him well beyond the point where they stop speaking, absently stroking Hux’s forearm as if to lull him back to sleep. It works surprisingly well

Perhaps once Hux is fully healed, he and Ren will merely return to the way things were before. Nothing necessarily has to change between them thanks to a little life-threatening experience—but Hux might like to command a little more of Ren’s regard, if it makes their relationship somewhat less tiresome.  

And if he’d like to continue touching Hux in that strangely tender, curious way of his—well, he might not complain about that either.

[deathlyhogwarts]

REMUS LUPIN X READER (LOST PAGE)

Summary: you find a ripped page where someone wrote how madly they are in love with you and you try to find out who wrote it

Remember, you can always request imagines/preferences/headcanons!

word count: 1885

masterlist

As spring came more and more nearer, people started going out more, enjoying the warm sun and the soft grass, or the more often trips to Hogsmeade. However, you enjoyed the fact that the library was emptier than usual, much to your joy, and had more time to read, study or do homework in peace. Well, of course, excluding the fifth and seventh students, who, unfortunately had to study for O.W.L’s or N.E.W.T’s. You were a sixth year, which meant that you were relaxed for now, freshly escaped exams last year, and expecting more next year. But, right now, you were in the middle, so it was safe to say you were in the library all day, reading muggle books your mother sent you from home.

At the actual moment, you were in History of Magic, the only class you found extremely boring. You were a bookworm, favourite student of most teachers and you were very keen to learn and study, and don’t get me wrong, you loved history ー especially if they involved magic ー but Binns’ voice was just so boring, it made you think “One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley” (i know the weasley twins weren’t exactly born when remus was teenager but i just love this quote so much), so you always found ways to distract yourself from dying of boredom. Today, however, you were distracted by someone, not something.

“Y/N, stop staring at Remus. I know you like him, but I don’t think you want everyone else to know that,” Lily reminded you in a whisper, while you were resting your chin on your palm, looking at Remus Lupin, someone you fancied for quite a while, not that he knew. He didn’t need to know.

“Merlin, now I can’t even look at him?” you whisper back, rolling your eyes, but you knew she was right ー if anyone would ever find out, especially one of the Marauders, you wouldn’t be able to bare the embarrassment. Sighing, you turned your gaze from him, moving it on a stupid fly that was trying to get out of the room, but didn’t realise the window was closed.

°°°

While it was lunch, you entered in the library probably the fifteenth time this week, not feeling any hungry and wanting some time for yourself, and sit at the most hidden table; you didn’t want to be bothered. As you sat down, you notice how it was very untidy, books spread all over, closed and open, papers on and off the table. Scoffing at whoever had the nerve to leave this place so messy, you start to clean it up, because what else could you do? You wanted to sit at this table, so you had to take the consequences.

As you start closing the books and putting them in order, taking the papers off the ground and from the table, you notice something out of order ー a ripped, limp page with a very tidy writing, and you wouldn’t have given much attention to it, but you noticed it had your name somewhere in it, so you started reading the piece of paper.

Tuesday, 1st of March, 1972.

Have you ever felt like there is too much in your head? Too many thoughts, too much information to keep. You have to tell someone, you simply can’t contain it anymore.

Well, the same goes to the heart. Too much emotion, too many feelings, yet everyone seems to care only about the brain, as if the heart is a myth of the untold. You have too much emotion inside you and you have to give it to someone. To a certain someone. As if the other heart craves attention and your heart knows it, and wants to give it, but there is a wall between, called anxiety. Ego. Trust. Things that hold us back from love.

This is a letter to no one. For is why I trust to say everything I please here.

Y/N Y/L/N. What a beautiful name. What a beautiful name of a person to take so much attention from my heart, to keep me up at night, to keep me thinking about her when I shouldn’t. How foolish, to fall in love. To have your heart stolen away and never know if it’ll ever come back, or if it ever was there at all; you never know. But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It twists your mind into thinking that if there is something to be felt, there is something to be broken.

However, there is a little bit of comfort and relief when you know the one who stole your heart is worth stealing it. And trust me, she is. If you look at her smile for more than a second, you get carried away on a cloud that could pop and disappear at any second, but you know you’ll still be alive because look! She’s smiling. Her laugh is even more mystical, but I won’t get into too much detail. You can’t possibly know what I’m talking about until you’ve heard it. Her simple presence makes you feel overwhelmed and not because of her, because of yourself. Because it makes you feel too much at once and you feel like you could explode.

Someone who is simply beautiful just in their being.

You had your mouth open and your eyes wide. Was this… was this really about you? Could someone really feel this way about you? Was this real? Was this a joke? This was indeed written very thoughtfully, so it couldn’t be a joke. It looked like it was lost and you shouldn’t be reading it. It was meant to be personal and for a few seconds you felt guilty about reading it, because obviously whoever wrote it didn’t mean to show it to anyone, especially you. But you had one thought in your head, and it was finding the person who wrote this.

You rushed into the Great Hall, hoping lunch wasn’t over yet and were very pleased when you saw it wasn’t, so you rushed over to Lily. You folded the ripped paper in two, hiding the part where it said your name.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re late, lunch is almost ove-”

“Do you recognise this writing?” you interrupt her, panting slightly only because you kind of ran from the library to the Great Hall.

She looked at it very intense and frowning. “Nope. It looks very familiar, I’m sure I’ve seen it somewhere, but I don’t know whose it is, I’m sorry. But can I ask why?”

“What? No, it’s just a lost essay I found and it doesn’t have a name on it. Someone is probably looking for it,” you lie, not really wanting to tell her that you found a love letter adressed to you. It would most likely give her a laugh. You stayed with her a little bit after that and you ate something quickly before getting up and walking to your next (separate) classes, as she chose to take Divination, while you chose Arithmancy.

Halfway through the class, you were supposed to write something from the book, but your quill broke. You swore under your breath and looked beside you. Remus was the only one sitting next to you, and you couldn’t bother anyone else without being too loud, so you moved closer to him, a slight blush already covering your cheeks. “Hey, Remus,” you whisper, tapping him on the shoulder, distracting him from his work.

“Oh, Y/N, y-yes?” he says, looking surprised and rather flustered.

“Do you have, by any chance, an extra quill? Mine broke,“ you said, looking guilty for interrupting him.

“Yes, I do have, actually. Just, er, let me search it in my bag,” he said as he turned to seach. While he was looking for the quill, your eyes drift to his parchment out of boredom, but widen immediately as they land on it. It was… it was the same writing as the one on the ripped page in the library. It couldn’t ー it couldn’t be! It surely was similar, not at all the same. But… it was exactly the same… tidy, slightly inclined to the right, slender and long. You felt the shock spread even more; that meant… that Remus was in love with you? That he… shared the same feelings you did. How could that be even-

“Y/N? You okay?” you drift back to reality and look at Remus, who had a bewildered look on his face and his hand was hanging with a quill in it.

“Y-yeah…” you looked at him with wide eyes, still not taking the quill.

He blushed, realising you were staring at him. He blushed. Oh Merlin, he really liked you. You took the quill very quickly, thinking about how you really needed to talk to him after class.

The bell rang after what felt like a few minutes, as you were very deep lost in your thoughts and you saw Remus getting up first and you tried to put all your things together as you hurried after him. “Remus! Wait!” you yelled after him and he stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at you. “We need to talk,” you said seriously.

“Er, okay then.”

You searched for something in your bag, until you found it and handed it to him hesitantly. “I believe this belongs to you.”

He looked at the paper and then back to you, a really scared expression on his face, as he blushed madly. “Y-you weren’t supposed to read that,” he looks anywhere but in your eyes. “I-I’m sorry, I just, I ripped it and I was going to throw it in the trash, I must have lost it in the b-books or something,” he stuttered as he frowned, looking very anxious.

“Is it true? What you wrote in it?” you ask, a bit disappointed that he intended to throw it away.

“I-um, Y/N I really-”

“Because if it is, I feel exactly the same way and the way you wrote it explains very well how I feel about you,” you say and it was your turn to blush.

He blinked a couple of times before he answered: “You-what? I mean, you… you do?” he looked confused.

“Yeah,” you answer awkwardly as you look away, biting your lip.

“Well, that’s good, because I would have been another heartbroken writer,” he laughed. Silence fell between you two. You saw him take a few steps closer and one hand reached to your chin, while the other was holding books and leaned in, feeling his hot breath on your face. You closed your eyes and soon enough you felt his soft lips against yours, something that felt way better than you had imagined it would. Your hands moved to his torso and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

“You can keep it,” he says as you two pull away, but don’t break sort of hug you were holding on. “The page, as a reminder that I am hopelessly in love with you.”

“Well, Remus, I am hopelessly in love with you, too,” you grin at the beautiful half human in front of you.

[stillyour-sweetheart]

back

Okay, wow. So… let me start off by saying I have absolutely no idea how to write this post. I feel a lot of made up “pressure” to be able to write/explain what’s happened ever since I’ve last been active on this website but I know that that’ll be hard to do perfectly… so I’m going to give myself some wiggle room and simply do my best in expressing what happened, how I felt, and what’s been going on.

So, my name is Annie and I used to run a blog on this website called humanseoul. That blog was not only my creation and baby, but it was also a deep part of me and my being. I ran it for over eight years and I allowed it to capture me at my highest and lowest points. It was a place I could turn towards whenever and it supported me as much as I supported it. Running that blog was amazing and it grew bigger than I imagined it to. Not only was it a creative outlet for me (I started out as an amateur gif maker), but it became a platform for me to use to connect with others in ways I didn’t even know was possible. My inbox was always open and I soon became not only a personal/aesthetic blog, but it became somewhat of an advice column blog. Users (who remained mostly anonymous) would come to my inbox to ask for advice or simply just to tell me about their day. It was a wonderful feeling and my heart would light up whenever I would see a notification(s) of a new message. There were so many things users would tell me… so many stories of relationship issues, grief, stress, triumphs, secrets, and random bits about their day or life. I loved it and I had so much fun reading all of them. There was even a time where I would log in to see tens of messages waiting for me to open and respond to. It was truly a feeling like no other. Having a personal space that was not only safe for me but also for OTHERS made me feel, in a weird way, purposeful… like I was more useful to others than I thought was possible.

I admit, during the time I had my blog I also experienced some of the worst emotional anxiety, stress, and overall lows that I’ve ever felt in my life. I felt like I was constantly running towards a goal that wasn’t even really important to me – yet I felt like I couldn’t stop. I went to counseling on and off, my grades fell then went up, there were applications and rejections, family fights and makeups, tears, stoic expressions, and of course— small moments of joy. With that being said, I know that I used my blog to escape reality and the actual struggles I was going through. I spent so much time trying to help others by using this platform rather than take time to focus on myself and get my life “back in order” (whatever that means… still not sure if I know what that means haha). So in a way, I had an unhealthy obsession with my blog. I wanted to be the safe haven— the safe place that I felt so desperately that I needed for myself yet be that place for others as well. I put pressure on myself to log on every day in order to maintain my blog and answer all the messages I got. I wanted to do a quality job so I would spend a lot of time typing out responses on a separate word document so that I could give replies that were considerate and thoughtful. Yes, it was tiring and yes, I know I had a slightly unhealthy obsession with it— but overall it was so fulfilling and fun. It was reality yet it wasn’t… it was whatever I made it to be.

Fast forward to sometime last winter (was it January?)… I get a DM on instagram asking me whether or not I had been on my blog lately because I’d been blogging some inappropriate content that wasn’t like me… of course I freaked out and tried to log in only to find that my password DIDN’T WORK. Someone had hacked my account and changed my password. During that time I was taking post-bach classes that were extremely important for me and my future steps forward with my educational/career goals… but I dropped what I was doing and desperately tried to change my password/log onto my email to reset it… but they had changed my email’s password as well… and I had no way of resetting my blog’s password. I even went as far as emailing (with a different email account I have) the tumblr staff… only to be met with the fact that they couldn’t do anything about it. So my blog, my safe place, the place I had made not only a place for myself but also for others to find solace… had been infiltrated and controlled. Every time I refreshed my page I was met with inappropriate photos that went against tumblr community guidelines. My heart sank because humanseoul wasn’t mine anymore. I felt defeated and violated. Two days later I tried again to log on and check my blog— only to find that the tumblr staff had deleted it.

I remember feeling so empty yet angry, blank, and utterly helpless when I realized my blog had been taken from me and then deleted. Literally wiped to obliteration, almost as if it never existed in the first place. All the messages I had answered, all the nice comments I’d received, all the personal posts, milestones, emotions, and history I had poured into that blog for the past eight plus years… gone within two days of the hack occurring. I didn’t stand a chance. I was so sad. A type of sad that I’ve never really felt before. I felt as though my hard earned work… a part of myself, had been ripped from me and I didn’t even get an opportunity to really fight for it. But at the same time I felt a sense of relief. I didn’t want my blog to be maintained only with inappropriate, sexual pictures. I didn’t want that to be the last thing people remembered my blog for. So in that sense, I was glad it was quickly deleted. Within the short span of those days after my account was hacked and before it was deleted, I had so many people DM me on instagram (I had it linked on my blog) to tell me that I had been hacked. So many people were concerned and reached out… many tried to help me get it back. I was so touched and I knew that would be the aspect I would miss the most about losing my blog – being able to both give and accept that type of support from people all around.

I was majorly bummed for a long time after that. Sure, my regular life wasn’t too affected by it (no one around me really even knew I had a major blog that was this important to me, except my older sister who was also very upset on my behalf) but I felt a huge part of me missing. I didn’t have my special place I could run to when things in real life got out of control. I didn’t have that platform I could use to easily connect with strangers and offer advice and support. As strange as this ALL may sound, my blog was a home to me, my emotions, and the friends and strangers I had met for OVER EIGHT YEARS. The relationship I had with my blog was longer than some of the relationships I have with my friends in real life! It was special to me and it was ripped away from me. People suggested I just remake my blog, start fresh. But how could I remake something that took me over eight years to build? A place that held so many memories and warmth because I was so blessed and lucky to never have experienced a negative moment or message from anyone. A place I would spend long hours into the night just being myself. I just couldn’t, so I held off. Humanseoul was gone and I didn’t even get a chance to properly say goodbye to anyone… sure the close friends I made throughout my time blogging I had on other SNS like IG and kakao … but what about the others? The ones who would come to me and say they visit my blog every day to find some peace of mind? The ones who would go on anon and regularly ask me how my day was? Or how I’m feeling lately? Or the ones who reached out once in a blue moon to check up on me and send me some love my way? What about them? What would they think of me? And of course those who’d come to me in hopes of advice or just a listening ear? I’ve even had anons promise me things like they’d come back to tell me how an event in their life went… but now how will they? I disappeared after offering support and guidance for 8+ years… what would be my story to them? But I guess that’s a realistic depiction of “the end.” You never know when it’s going to happen but it just does… and you feel the regret. You feel the ‘what if’s’ and the ‘but why’s?’ You feel like you have more time to say the things you want to say only to find out that it’s too late.

So I stayed off tumblr. I never logged back on. I was pleasantly surprised though, that no one could take the URL humanseoul because for some reason it was off the market. The blog had disappeared forever but I was honestly relieved to find out that no one could take its name and make it into something it wasn’t. I finished my post-bach classes, applied to dental school, and got in last December. This was a goal I worked on for years. An unreachable, unthinkable goal for me… at least in the beginning. A goal that caused me so much grief and confusion… and often time still does unfortunately. A goal I came into humanseoul having. I start school late August. But right now that’s hard to even think about because of what’s going on in the world. The global pandemic that’s happening has put life on pause… yet at the same time I feel like everyone is in a frenzy. Within that time I also worked a job I hated, am currently working a job I LOVE (although i’m currently furloughed), and have really experienced a lot of new things in general.

Life is tough and weird. You never know what’ll happen— whether it’s someone hacking your blog and having it get deleted or whether a new virus strikes the world. So much has changed. I’VE changed. Of course I wouldn’t be the same girl who first started humanseoul— that was YEARS ago! To NOT change would be a problem. I know that I’m scared of stagnation. I always strive to be better because I sincerely want to be better. I want to be the best human being I can while I’m alive and I want to share myself with others and the world like how I did with humanseoul. That desire has not and will never change. I’ve become more honest and open about my emotions and feelings. I’m not afraid to acknowledge and admit some of my deepest and most confusing/frustrating emotions. My goal of becoming a dentist? The goal I fought so hard to achieve? Well, I’ve had my second guesses— I always have. I never really wanted to do it. There were just so many outside influences that made me want it. I feel extremely grateful to continue on that path, but I’ve realized I probably would be better and happier doing something else like becoming a therapist or maybe even a graphic designer. Do I think becoming a dentist will be the worst thing ever? No, not entirely. Who knows if I would even be happy going into something other than that. But the fact that I can freely admit this is something I wasn’t able to do long ago and is something I wish I would’ve been able to do when I had a ‘following’ (I hate using that term!) because being honest with yourself is one of the best and most liberating gifts you can give to yourself. I wish I could have been a better model of that before. It’s too late to regret that now and I know I did the best I could back then while trying to grapple with everything I was dealing with. At least I know I’m capable of doing that now.

I thought a long time about what I would call my new blog. It’s a new beginning and I wanted the name to capture something about me. Honestly, nothing can beat humanseoul in my heart but I had to try. One of my favorite (if not favorite people) in the world is my grandma on my mom’s side. She always calls me ‘sweetheart,’ it’s like an instinct for her. She’s still alive and somewhat well but she’s old and I know her time with us is growing shorter and shorter. But no matter what, no matter how far apart we are or whether we’re alive at the same time, I will always be her sweetheart. I chose stillyour-sweetheart as my new URL because ‘still’ means “happening or existing before now and continuing into the present.” It essentially means “has been and will always be,” except in one word. It was perfect to me.

And so, in a sense I’ve been reborn. Humanseoul will no longer be, but I’m still here. I may not be the exact same as I was back during my extremely active days blogging, but hopefully I’ve become better. It’s funny because I feel like I’m writing to others still even though I have no followers and may never even get any. I know inside I have hopes of former followers seeing this and feeling my sincerity and gaining the knowledge of why I left so abruptly. I’m so, so, glad I got to interact with those that I did. I’ve had some of the happiest most fulfilling moments of my life helping out those who came to me. I would go through my ‘nice anon’ tag on the days I felt down and would be reminded of the fact that there truly is love and kindness out in the world even towards strangers. I was reminded of the good inside of me. I was gifted hope. I know no one is likely to see this, but thank you. I can’t say that enough. I just can’t. I felt loved, protected, cared for, and supported by online friends and people I didn’t even know. Thank you for those warm memories. My goal was to help others, but I feel like I’ve received more than I’ve given and for that I will always be grateful. 

I also know this whole post could easily come across as dramatic and overly emotional. I know that it’s highly likely that no one even remembers humanseoul or maybe no one even notices that it’s gone, but this is my truth and I stand by it. Regardless of whether or not anyone sees this or remembers me or humanseoul, I’m glad to have written this. I don’t plan on being as active as I once was when I was running my old blog. I’m not using this blog to gain followers and create what I did back then (especially since I’ll be starting hardcore schooling in the fall). I’m not trying to recreate humanseoul. There could never be another for me. However, I’m still the girl who once ran it. I’m Annie and I’m still here for whoever needs me. This blog is both for me and for you (if you wish!) and I’m more than happy to say that. ❤️

[allyinthekeyofx]

Fading Light - Part 3 - 4/6

PART ONE - Chapters 1-6

PART TWO - Chapters 1-6

PART THREE -  Prologue   Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3

PART THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

The X-File, as it soon turned out, wasn’t an X-File at all. As gruesome and other-worldly as it had first appeared, it soon became clear that the murder was as a direct result of a long running feud between the murder victim and the scythe wielder who was aptly named ‘Big Ron’. Almost 7 feet of immense brawn but only limited brain, he would clearly have had no trouble in driving the scythe through Barry Ludlow’s slight body. Why a scythe was anyone’s guess and really, it wasn’t our problem anymore and I certainly haven’t wasted time on it because right now I have more important things on my mind.

Because in typical Mulder fashion, he had insisted on being there to see the suspect apprehended. I don’t know why, other than I understand how his brain works and he always likes to dot the ‘i’s and cross the ‘t’s before we leave and I think on some level he was a little disappointed that such a promising case had come to nothing. I’m surprised he hasn’t got used to it over the years though because while it cannot be denied that many of our cases have been downright perplexing in nature or as Mulder once so succinctly put it, have emitted a distinct paranormal bouquet, a good chunk of them have had explanations of the much more mundane.

The local PD had attended of course and as was often the case, they were poorly briefed and even less prepared to execute a warrant on such a potentially explosive situation.

Big Ron as it turned out had no intention of coming quietly and if he was going down, he was determined to take a few with him. Mulder unfortunately being one of them and I had watched with mounting horror as his immense weight connected solidly with my partner, knocking him off his feet and sending him crashing head first in to a solid, cinderblock wall; the sound as his skull made contact making the nerve endings inside my cheeks fizz and burn as my mouth filled with a metallic taste that almost made me throw up right there and then. I had hung slightly behind him, acknowledging for once that sometimes, whether I liked it or not, the reality of a physical situation such as this one dictated that at least some caution on my part was required. Because all the combat training in the world will never make my slight 5 feet 2 inch frame any kind of match for the 7 feet of muscle and brawn we were faced with.

As it turned out however, Mulder’s six foot frame was no match either and as his body hit the ground in that peculiar boneless fashion afforded to the deeply unconscious, I did exactly what I had been trained to do. I protected him from further harm, auto pilot kicking in as I saw the perp about to go in for the kill, raising his arm, the glint of the metal shaft all too visible in his hand.

I gave him one opportunity.

Just one.

And then I put a bullet in him. It didn’t kill him although I think I would have been able to find justification, but it certainly rendered him harmless enough for the supporting officers to swarm all over the bastard and get the cuffs on him before he hurt anyone else.

And amidst the brief chaos that ensued as frantic calls were made for EMT s to attend, I had one goal and one goal only – to get to Mulder; and with the ferocity of a she cat guarding her offspring I flew across the fifteen or so feet that separated him from me, screaming at the attending officers to get the fuck out of my way. Highly unprofessional, extraordinarily unlike me and in truth, I’m not sure where it even came from.

But it had the desired effect and I was still moving forwards even as I dropped to my knees beside him, my doctors’ mind quickly assimilating the necessary information as to his current condition. He was breathing at least and I sent up a silent ‘thank you’ to whoever might be listening , already loosening his tie enough to allow me to rip open his shirt, sending buttons popping in all directions, mentally running the checklist. Airway seemed clear, pulse was reasonably strong beneath my fingers and for one excruciating moment I remembered the feel of his lips whispering against my own pulse point earlier that morning, a feeling I rapidly shoved to the back of my mind. I was infinitely careful to not move him more than was absolutely necessary– the force of his collision with that wall could very well have caused spinal damage, a worse case scenario but one I had to be mindful of as I leaned in to him, speaking his name over and over, an attempt to reach him, to bring him out of it.

But it became frighteningly obvious that he was out cold. At least for the moment and instead I concentrated all my efforts on keeping him safe from being jolted or jostled in any way, lightly resting the palm of my hand over his heart, partly to let him know I was there and partly to let myself know that he still was.

XXXX

The journey to the local hospital seemed to take forever and I winced every time we hit a bump in the road, even the knowledge that Mulder was now securely strapped to a spinal board, heavy foam blocks taped to each side of his head didn’t reduce my anxiety levels even by a degree. It would be so much easier if he were conscious – his motor function would immediately speak to any serious damage – but he remained totally unresponsive to both verbal and physical stimulus. He had now been unconscious for almost an hour and my concern was racketing upwards with every minute that passed.

He’d had concussive injuries before – we both had – but generally we came out of them relatively quickly. But this time there was nothing. Not a flicker to tell me he was coming back to me and as I sat there gripping his hand tightly, I cursed myself internally that I had agreed to us being a part of an operation that was no longer in any way under our jurisdiction. I could have refused. I should have refused. But Mulder is pretty hard to deflect at the best of times and never more so that when he has an idea fixed in his head.

And then suddenly I felt his hand spasm briefly against mine, the merest grip of my fingers before it was gone and I immediately raised my head. His eyes were open wide, the pupils dilated and in truth he looked absolutely terrified. I couldn’t blame him – waking up from a concussion is never a pleasant experience and I knew from my own past injuries that he would be feeling horribly disorientated, nauseous, dizzy and confused. Add to that the fact that he was strapped down in such a way that only the slightest movement were possible and the giant sized headache he was no doubt suffering all added up to the very real potential to incite fierce panic within him; and so I reacted quickly, leaning over so he could easily see me in his limited field of vision, speaking clearly to him as I did so.

“Mulder. It’s okay. You were knocked out. But it’s okay....you’re okay...”

And while his pupils remained huge, almost obscuring the delicate shades of colour that made up his eyes, I was at least rewarded by just a flicker of recognition as he fought to regain some semblance of understanding as to his current situation.

“Scully.”

His voice is weak, raspy; reminding me of the time he was found near death in the arctic wastes, the retro virus within him taking him right to the brink of death. So many years ago and yet here we were again, fighting another injury in another time. The thought forms a lump in my throat and for a second I can’t speak. So many times we have been here.

Right here.

Just trying to survive.

“Sshhh It’s okay”

I want to touch his face, our standard go to when one of us is injured and an action I know will keep him calm, prevent him fighting against the restraints that hold him safe although I am pretty sure by his previous movement that there is no damage to his spine. But the blocks either side are preventing me, so I do the next best thing and brush his hair away from his forehead. The skin feels cold to my touch, a sure sign that he is, at least to some degree, in shock.

His eyes are beginning to close and I squeeze his hand again.

“Stay with me Mulder.”

Because now that he is awake I need him to stay that way. The EMTs are hovering beside us, but really there is nothing to be done until we reach the ER. He is awake and he is speaking. That is the best we can hope for now.

“Was it the Ferris wheel?”

“What? Which Ferris wheel Mulder?”

He swallows briefly

“Did we fall?”

I have no idea what his words mean, and I’m aware that his brain has taken a beating that probably makes this conversation perfectly reasonable to him. And because I need him to stay focused I play along.

“No Mulder we didn’t fall.”

“Mmmmm ‘K good.”

And he smiles lazily up at me, his eyes seem calmer now, his expression more serene; far away somehow.

“I kissed you in starlight.”

And suddenly my heart begins to beat painfully in my chest, aware of the curious glances being thrown at me from the EMT closest to us as I feel colour flood in to my face.

But despite my embarrassment I smile down at him because I see such wonderment in his expression, as though has been granted a glimpse in to heaven itself.

“Mulder....stay still okay”

He is trying to bring his hand up to my face but failing miserably because his visual perception is currently so screwed and knowing him like I do, knowing that he won’t rest until he has achieved his goal, I capture his hand in my own and bring towards me, pressing it to my cheek where he clumsily moves his thumb in rhythmic motion against my skin.

“Yeah I did. I kissed you in starlight.”

He smiles again

“You’re so beautiful Scully..”

And even as his eyelids start to flicker in exhaustion, I am overcome once again as that same sense of déjà vu comes flooding back.

The sounds of laughter

Of muted voices from far below

Of twinkling lights and deep velvety sky.

Of Mulders face as he held me tight against him, his eyes soft and warm with love as he brought his lips to mine as he told me over and over that I was beautiful.

As the lights shone below and the sky unfolded eternal above.

As he kissed me in starlight.

Continued chapter five

[celestial-writespace]

Seemingly

Sometimes, your greatest love isn’t always the one you end up with.

[ genre: romance, teen fiction ]

Have you ever met someone who you thought was seemingly perfect? It’s this one person who just seems to have absolutely everything you’re looking for. A person you’d never thought could even exist. That one person, the one who you’d always have a soft spot for. That was it, that was exactly what I’d describe Kyle. I’m Margaux, and this is how a green eyed boy who wore dark grey jeans and a black hoodie that day in September changed my life forever.

If you’re reading this, then it must mean that it’s probably already some time in 2040 where I’m all grown up, being stable and all, and this “story” I’m writing, just happened to live on for a couple decades. I don’t know who’ll be reading this, if you’re my friend or a completely random stranger, but in case you didn’t already get it, or you just completely went over all the things I said, I’m Margaux. As of June 20th of the year 2018, I’m 18 years old, and I’m probably the typical freshman college girl. I was born and raised (as typical as it may sound) in the sunny town of Phoenix, Arizona. Let me start my story a little like this:

Okay, let’s flashback to the day I first started college. Now, I’m generally a pretty open, outgoing girl, but this day just made me so anxious. I woke up today at 4 AM, and the welcoming rally starts at 8. I was totally not stressing out. I mean, who would’ve thought i’d actually make it into my dream school? Did I even deserve it? WHY WAS I THERE? REALLY? Anyway, so I started my morning, like any other, with coffee and bread, in a desperate attempt to calm myself down and make it feel like it was just any other day. The anxiety didn’t fully go away, but my favorite bittersweet sensation from a good cup of freshly brewed coffee definitely helped. A few hours of stress, anxiety and weirdly enough, boredom combined, and the clock struck 7 o’clock. Of course, I immediately left at that moment.

As I arrived in school, the anxiety took over me. There were so many people who were so much better than me. Talk about insecurity, right? Flash forward to the end of the day, when I became tired, scared, but thankfully, a little less anxious, and a little more excited, but nevertheless, I came here to learn, and I kept in mind that I really shouldn’t let those things bother me. I deemed college one of the most life changing periods in my life. At that time, I was so ready to reinvent myself, move on from the horror that is high school, and prepare myself for a better future ahead of me.

When three months had passed since my first day at University of Phoenix, midterms had just ended, and I had been a member of this lovely sorority where my mother was once a member of, for around 2 months now.. I hoped to gain a sisterhood like no other through this. This was where I met my first college best friend, Sarah. I was definitely off to a great start, and I hoped so hard that nothing changed this for the next 4 years. However, it was way too early for me to hope, right?

One day in September, I committed to going to a Mura Masa concert with Sarah. She and I both loved Mura Masa, and it was his first show ever in Phoenix. To add, Sarah had been such a nice friend to me. She was the only one caring enough to show me around the campus voluntarily, and we’d have lunch together every time our schedules aligned. Seeing this, I knew we just had to go together. Little did I know that going to that concert would change my life forever.

My phone read 9 o’clock, the concert just started, and I was having the time of my life seeing one of my favorite artists play live with my college best friend. But there was something more magical about that night. There was a tall guy that was standing beside me, in his dark grey knee-ripped jeans, a black Mura Masa hoodie and some beat up Nikes. He sparked up a simple conversation as the intermission started. Nine. That’s how many words it took for him to finish his sentence, and how many seconds it took for me to gaze at his beautiful face, which was a bit too long for someone to respond to such a simple question. “What do you think the next song’s gonna be?” he asked me.

“I think it’s definitely gonna be my favorite, Firefly” I responded, as I lock eyes with the silver haired fellow. Suddenly, the music started. But that wasn’t the only thing that started that night, but also a love that just seemed so right. I see this as mystical I'm sure that you know, my favorite line from Firefly played as I stare at him once more. That night was mystical, for sure. Although, I’m not quite sure if it was those green eyes that got me lost every time I looked at him, or his soft-looking lips I would have loved to lock with in those moments. Kyle and I danced and sung along to our favorite songs, and not too soon after, Sarah joins in and gets to know him a little more.

The concert ended, and me and my friend were now with Kyle. As we were walking to the parking lot, we exchanged numbers. Turns out, he was an artist who dropped out of college in his sophomore year. He loved painting and photography the most, for he thought that being able to capture beautiful moments in one’s life was one of God’s greatest blessings to mankind. But to me, it was people like him. Those that appreciated the beautiful little details, and those that believed that imperfection is most times what makes us human, and what makes us beautiful.

Sarah drove me home, and during our drive, she talked to me about Kyle. “Soooo, Kyle huh?” she teases me. I wasn’t gonna deny it to my best friend.

“Yeah, I like him, what’dya think?”

“I think you guys are really compatible for each other, hell, couldn’t even get you guys separated.”

So that night I came home, I could not stop smiling and thinking about the enchanting night I had just experienced. I wondered until about 3 in the morning. Did he know how wonderstruck I was when I met him? And all I could hope for was that, he wasn’t already in love with someone else. I fell asleep to these thoughts.

The next morning, I woke up to a vibration from my phone, which rested on top of my chest. I received a text from him. “Forgot to tell you, I thought you were wonderful last night, and i’d love to get to know you more, perhaps over some coffee?” it read. The text struck my stomach with butterflies as I eagerly texted back “I feel the same, actually. How about today at 4PM?” A minute passed and I got a confirmation text, complete with the words “Can’t wait!”

We met up at a local cafe on the corner of 10th street and Park Avenue. I walked into the cafe but failed to spot him anywhere, so I decided to sit down at the table by the glass window. Five minutes passed and I saw him on the other side of the street, about to cross the road. Seeing him once more brought an uncontrollable smile on my face. He entered the cafe, approached me and I ultimately greeted him with a warm hug. He smelled bittersweet for some unknown reason, like the coffee I drank every morning. He smelled like.. Home. It was the scent I could wake up to every morning.

And so we talked for hours about our favorite songs and how he loved travelling so much that he could spend the rest of his days travelling everywhere and never have one permanent home. He told me his adventures in Peru, Japan, Australia, Indonesia, all at his age of 23. It was truly amazing to see how one man could appreciate so much in life. Everything to him was beautiful. I wondered if I was too.

Seven o’clock struck and he invited me back to his place for some dinner. I spent such a wonderful afternoon with this man, but I was not to forget why I stayed in Phoenix despite my longing urge to leave this city, my studies. I told him I had things to do and his persistence went on, not in a bad way though. He wanted to help me finish my paper for a writing class I had. Well, he was an artist so I figured he’d be of great help. I was wrong. “OH WOW now I know why you stuck with playing music and visual arts, you are absolutely terrible” I say, teasing him as I giggle. He really was terrible, but that’s not what I looked at. I looked at how hard he tried despite knowing he wasn’t exactly a good writer. It was cute. He was cute. This infatuation has really gotten over me. “It’s cute you know,” I said, staring at him as he typed on my laptop a few more senseless lines.

“What is?” He asked with a grin on his face.

“When you try like that, but fail in the end,” I answered.

“How is that cute?” He asked, this time, looking at me in the eyes that showed the most interest in what I was saying.

“Because you’re determined, and I find that cute.”

He pinched my nose and said “not as cute as you, you little human bean.” We spent the rest of the night teasing each other and just talking for hours, being with each other like nothing else mattered. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. We were spending most our nights together like this until the next month. We knew each other’s favorites, our interests, our childhood, and even our past, including past relationships. At this point, it was safe to say i loved him. Or at least I thought it was.

It was movie date after park dates after study dates. Although he dropped out of college, he never stopped supporting me in my goals. He understood how college was so important to me, and how I wanted to make things right in college after all my mistakes in high school. He knew that for me, college was the time I wanted to reinvent myself, and he was more than happy to be part of such a life changing period in my life.

Never have I met someone who scarily liked the exact things as I did. He had the same political views, same moral values. Never have I met someone so beautiful, someone who saw wonder in the least wonderful things. You could say we sort of completed each other’s sentences. He was good for me, I knew, because I felt that I was growing as person, becoming more positive around him, and others. We complemented each other, and it was all going good. It truly was as if we were made for each other. We were compatible, but perhaps, too compatible that it scared me too. I thought that somewhere along the way, it might become a problem.

The time came, it seemed as if something kept bothering him. That smile I could never tired of, was gone. Was I doing something wrong? What was it I was lacking? I thought. I just couldn’t bare that I wasn’t making him happy. So one day, I came over to his place, and I decided to confront him. “Why aren’t you happy with me anymore?” I was hoping to hear something like “You’re a bit too clingy” or that he didn’t really like me anymore, or he just simply got bored of me in general. But it wasn’t because of any of those that we just couldn’t be together. It was because of a fragment of his past that kept reappearing in his head every time he looked at me. He told me I was beautiful, and that he had spent his greatest days with me, but it was all too familiar for him.

Before I came into the picture, he had dated this girl named Emma. I had gone to high school with her. No doubt, she was beautiful, kind and smart, which had caused her to be one of the most popular girls in school. However, she had transferred in senior year, and no one knew why. It turned out she had severe anxiety and depression, as Kyle said. This had also become the reason for Kyle to drop out of college. He took care of her. He was so sure about her, that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with her. She had graduated high school and a few months after, he proposed to her. He said he knew they were young, but he had been so sure about his forever with her, that she was his, and he was hers, and nothing could have broken them apart.

I thought we had an invincible love, a love that no one could top, until I saw the way his eyes sparkled talking about Emma. It never sparkled that way when we were together. He had a different glow to him. He was sad talking about this, but he had more life than he ever did going on dates with me. Seeing the way he talked about her, It hurt. It hurt that he couldn’t be that way with me. Though I knew he had feelings for me, it wasn’t enough. It was not the best kind of love he deserved. He deserved Emma, not me.

However, let me tell all of you that during those moments, I was more in awe at how one man could love a woman so much than I was jealous. At that point, I already knew where it was going. We weren’t going to end up together and maybe it was okay. Maybe he’d be better off without me, because I knew at that moment, I wasn’t what he needed. And maybe I never will be.

Moving onto the story, Kyle and Emma plan their small wedding. Emma and her dad drive to pick up her wedding dress days before the wedding, but gets into a major car crash which costs her dad his life. This triggers her depression and long story cut short, she decides that suicide is the best option for her. She was found in the bathtub of her parents’ house lifeless, with a note “I’m sorry, Kyle. Know that i’ll never stop loving you, even in the afterlife. I’ll see you soon.” And of course, Kyle is distraught. The woman she loved so dearly, the woman who he had planned to spend his entire life with, committed the most selfish act of all. Up until now she remains in his heart, and he was never really meant to be mine to begin with. Although they never got married, it was as if they did. He was going to love her, for better or for worse, even after death tried to do them part.

Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new, a line from one of the songs in his playlist which he loved listening to. And now I know why. He couldn’t deny he had feelings for me, for it was too real for it all to just be fake. One thing i’ll always remember in his voice though, is how he bid me goodbye that day.

“You are a beautiful and respectful woman, Marge. I’m so thankful that I met someone like you. Any man, and I mean any man would be so lucky to have you in their life. Although it would have been nice for me to be that man, i’m sorry. I still think about her countless times a day. I see her in you sometimes, and I don’t want that to be the reason I stay with you. I don’t want you to fall in love with someone whose thoughts keep wandering to someone else, more so,someone else who’s long gone. Promise me, Marge, you’ll find someone who’ll give you the world, because I know that’s what you deserve, and exactly what I can’t give you.”

I hugged him tight and gave him a quick kiss. Our first, and last. And maybe also the first and last time i’ll feel that way about someone. And so I told him that there was no need for such an apology. “Maybe we’ll find our way to each other someday,” were the last words I told him.

It hurt, but I knew he was doing this for me. It was a kind act, kind of like mercy killing. I would have endured a greater pain if he hadn’t told me as early. I was never going to forget the genuine happiness he always made me feel whenever i’d be in his presence, and maybe, just maybe, i’ll feel that way again with somebody else, or maybe, with him but in a different time. I was truly hopeful, that maybe it was right love at the wrong time, and if it was right love, maybe the right time will come.

It was sad getting to experience a love so surreal but not having it last for so long, but I don’t regret having met him. He showed me what it was like to truly love someone so deeply. He showed me how beautiful life was, and that we should never stop loving, even after death, may it be your own, or anything/ anyone else around you. Loving was a gift, one that we should practice, even if it hurt. Sometimes there are things that will continue to make love a hard thing to do, but we shouldn’t stop. Alfred Lord Tennyson once said “'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” That experience of mine is one I would never forget, and never regret. Kyle and I remained friends, but months after we decided to remain friends, he seized to travel the world, and I deemed i’d never see him again, nor hear from him.

EPILOGUE

I now write as Margaux, a 34 year old woman, with a stable job in the state of New York, who graduated form the University of Phoenix with awards, like I always pictured myself back then. I write as a married woman, with a loving husband, and 2 amazing children.

I met my husband when I landed my first job in LA. The best part about it is, when I met him, you could tell he had the brightest glow in him, his eyes sparkled whenever he’d see me, and you could feel it in his kiss. It took us 3 years before he proposed to me, and I could never been happier that day I said “I do, Father.”

I write because few years after I got married and had my first child, I received a letter from somewhere in Puerto Rico. It read:

“To the beautiful Margaux,

I heard you got married, and I could never have been happier for you. I’m glad you’ve found someone who will treat you well, much that I couldn’t. I don’t exactly know if you still care but, just as you remember, I left because I traveled the world to find myself. During my first year of travelling, i fell in love with immersing into the different cultures and learning more about each one. I started volunteering at charity foundations in every country I visit, and i’ve become a self-proclaimed journalist now. And I guess travel is whom I’m married to now. Anyway, I hope you’re living the wonderful live you deserved. Write back, so at least I know you got this.

Sincerely,

Kyle”