#my chest still huts so bad i keep trying to tell myself that maybe it was for the best if they could toss me asiede so easily but

[werewolfmob]

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding VIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - Part II - - - Part III - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - Part VI - - - Part VII

He didn’t feel any pain when the saber pierced him

the world exploded and Obi-Wan was relieved. it worked- this must be breaking out

then not Anakin was there and that wasn’t right and he felt like he was burning alive and broken pieces fell but he wasn’t free he closed his eyes had to concentrate

Wake up Break Out Not Real

Woke up but he wasn’t Out and it hurt and Not Real Anakin was yelling at him for being stupid but he was trying to get Out and he had to try harder and went for the knife but it didn’t reach and his arm felt weak and he started to black out

He FORCED himself to WAKE UP and it ALMOST worked he could feel the heat but the rest wasn’t real so he tried again and

“STOP TRYING TO DIE!”

and that was irritating because trying was all he had left anymore he was trying so hard and if he wanted to die then he would have just

There were hands on him and lightning in his chest and this must be

Obi-Wan blinked aWAKE confused-

“He keeps fighting the sedatives! -”

“-Varp! Up the dose, we need to finish the operation before...”

The familiar haziness of a full Bacta Immersion and there was something he was supposed to remember he had to WAKE UP and he struggled and there was yelling from somewhere

Bacta Pod- must be the temple. and he tried to remember how he got there but whatever it was must have been bad because he was VERY high and he had to... had to wake up (but he was awake someone told him he was already awake) and he had to break out (but this was safe safe someone was telling him this was safe so he must have broken out already) and something else not something not he heard cursing and everything got even fuzzier

--

Obi-Wan woke all at once, as though someone had dumped a bucket of water on him. Vokara Che and a Nautolan he vaguely recognized were hovering over him, watching him with unnerving intensity.

He shifted slightly under their gaze, and was confused to find himself unable to move any of his limbs.

“We’ve cuffed you to the bed,” Healer Che told him calmly. “Do you remember why?”

Wake up Break Out Not Real

Obi-Wan thought back furiously. The memories of the last few days came racing back, then the last few years.

He closed his eyes trying to think; his life had been so surreal for so long that it was hard to assess using reason. But something wasn’t adding up. He backtracked to the the last memory he knew to be true.

Luke, of course. Luke was the most real thing in the galaxy. He held Luke for a short time before Owen rightfully kicked him out.

Then...back to his hut, to try and desperately fix whatever was wrong with the vaporators now...The Jawas stopped by...They had spice.

He had thought about purchasing it before, but he knew the Sandcrawler was a safer bet if only for its indifference to him. They wouldn’t judge him or take note of the vulnerability in the way the people of Mos Eisley would. He sat in his hut berating himself before finally giving in.

Then having a wonderful, perfect lucid dream- Cody, and Anakin, and Plo Koon and Bant and Mace and Anakin, his Anakin. But...if it was a dream, why did his attempts to wake fail so miserably? His body felt odd, not really hungry or thirsty. It didn’t make sense. 

Even assuming a distorted sense of time, this was too involved for a hallucination. The fact of the matter was that he was a Jedi Master. Even without the force, if he was lost inside his own mind...he should have been able to get out. 

This...couldn’t be a drug-induced hallucination. Maybe it was at some point but...

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath, suddenly struggling for air. Vokara laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched away.

“Master Kenobi, please try and take deep breaths,” The Nautolon urged in a soothing voice.

He complied, steadying his breathing and finding calm. He had an enemy to fight against and he was done making a fool of himself. 

“I understand now,” Obi-Wan said flatly. “This must have been very entertaining for you.”

“I assure you Master Kenobi,” the Nautolan said frowning, “Your pain is not a source of entertainment for I, nor anyone else in the temple. Quite the opposite- a number of people were stricken at the thought of you joining the force before your time.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You can drop the act, Sidious.” 

There was a pause.

“I’m Master Vokara Che, Chief Healer of the Jedi Temple. I’ve known you since you were a crecheling,” she responded carefully. “This is Master Sife Aerdo, they’re one of our best soul healers. Neither of us are putting on an act, nor are we here to harm you. Is there something we can do to convince you of our identities?”

Obi-Wan glared at her, before turning to look straight at the ceiling.

“Vokara Che is dead, along with everyone else. I assume my mental defenses weakened after I drugged myself; you must have been besides yourself with glee to find me in such a state. I hope you’ve had your fun watching me run around in your Sith mindtrap, because its over. Torture me all you want, parade as many ghosts in front of me as you desire, you know I have nothing useful to tell you. And you’ve already destroyed everyone who you could possibly use as leverage against me, so I have no motivation to allow you a shred more entertainment. You can try and turn me if you wish, but honestly, what could you possibly put me through that you haven’t already?”

Master Aerdo tried to catch Obi-Wan’s eyes, “Master Kenobi, I understand you had a terrible vision of some kind. I am not denying how it has impacted you. But I ask you to take a chance to see for yourself that those you fear dead are still here, and they still care for you. I’ve had a look at your shields and I’m concerned by how fully you’ve blocked yourself off from the force. I understand you may have done this in an attempt at defense, but-”

Obi-Wan let out a snort, responding snidely, “You’re going to have to do better if you want to get any further into my mind, Emperor Palpatine”

And at that, he closed his eyes, sinking deep within. His weakness had cost him Luke but there was still a chance that Leia was safe with Bail and Breha.

(don’t think too hard about Luke you’ll lose what strength you have left)

He might not be able to escape, but he could raise his shields even higher, cutting himself off further from his surroundings.

If Palpatine wanted his attention he would just have to torture him like a decent person. 

Part IX

[band--psycho]

Gally x Reader-I Don’t Want To Just Exist

Y/Ns POV

“She can’t see anything! So what job do you plan on giving her?” One voice said, this one was unrecognisable though.

“We might as well send her into the Maze,” another voice said, I believe it belonged to same person who jumped down into the cage-I believe his name was Gally.  I don’t know what the Maze was but it certainly didn’t sound good. But his words clearly struck an issue with some of the others and quickly caused an argument between them all. 

“I’m blind not deaf,” I snapped, silencing the argument that they were having. 

“I deserve a chance to prove myself like everyone else does,” I explained calmly. 

“Okay Greenie, you got a chance,” a voice said, as he placed  a somewhat comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Alby, you can’t be-” 

“She’s got as much right to a chance as everyone else, Gally,” Alby quickly cut him off as he lightly grabbed my hand. 

“Who knows I might just prove you wrong,” I said before letting Alby guide me away from them. 

Small Time Skip-That evening

“Fry, this is one of the best things you’ve ever cooked,” Alby shouted, but Fry just simply chuckled as he nudged my arm slightly. 

“Can’t take the credit for this one, Greenie here did most of the work, I just made sure she didn’t burn herself,” he joked. 

“Well, it looks like we’ve found a job you can do,” Alby said, before the others burst out in a cheer. 

“Welcome to the family, Greenie,” Alby said before pulling me into a hug. 

“Call me Y/n..” I whispered to him. 

“Y/n, welcome home,” he said to me before the others crowded around us, each of them introducing themselves properly- the rest night was filled with jokes and laughter..it was weird, I’d only known these people for a number of hours but I already cared about them. Then I heard this bloodcurdling type noise that shook me to my core. 

“What was that?” I asked, trying to hide the panic in my voice. 

“That was a Griever,” Alby explained.

“A Griever?” I asked, confusion washing over me. 

“I’ll explain tomorrow,” he said before ordering everyone to go to bed-as the only girl in the Glade, I got certain privileges...one of them was being able to sleep in a hut.  I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard the door creep open, making me sit up almost instantly. 

“It’s okay, It’s just me,” Gally said, a felt a bit of relief wash over me; but not enough to let my guard down completely-mere hours ago he’d suggested throwing me in the Maze. 

“I..uh..I think I owe you an apology..I shouldn't have judged you so quickly,” he apologised, his voice was quiet, but I felt like his words were sincere.

“It’s okay,” I said simply as a small smile came across my face. 

“I’ll..I’ll let you sleep,” Gally said, as he made his way over to the door.

“I’m glad I proved you wrong,” I heard him let out a chuckle at my words as his footsteps faded away and the door shut behind him. 

Time Skip-A Year Later

Things had been slightly off lately with Gally; and I knew why. Thomas. Ever since he arrived he’d had this chip on his shoulder that he couldn’t seem to shift. I knew better than anyone that Gally wasn’t the most welcoming of people, but he had a softer side..one that I don’t think anyone other than me knew about. Since my time in the Glade we’ve grown closer, I liked him..and I think he liked me too-but neither of us were ready to tell each other that, and that was okay-but one thing I couldn’t deal with was his jealousy. Thomas was a nice guy and pretty much whenever we would talk Gally would interrupt him, and not leave my side whilst I was with him; it was ridiculous and annoying; Thomas and I were just friends, but it didn’t matter how many times I tried to tell Gally that. 

“It’s just..you’re nice and Gallys just-”

“An arrogant ass, with a bad temper; he can be, sometimes at least-but he’s not like that all the time, he’s got a softer side to him and he means well, he just wants to keep everyone safe,” I explained, chopping some of the veg ready for dinner. 

“You’ll get used to him, he tried to have me thrown into the Maze on my first day..and now here we are,” I continued, feeling around for the pot, luckily Fry was at my side to guide my hands onto it. 

“You should probably go, before Gally comes and rips both of our heads off for talking,” I joked as I put the veg into the pot. 

“Gallys coming,” Fry said just as Thomas began to walk away, I waited for the sound of a punch, but thankfully no sound like that came-instead Gally just wrapped his arms around my waist, placing a light kiss on my shoulder and then proceeded to try and help Fry and I cook; much to both mine and Frys annoyance because there was a reason he was a builder, he couldn’t cook. The night came quickly and soon Gally and I were in our hut, my head resting on his chest as his hand rested on my hip, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that something was playing on his mind though-he’d been quiet, more so than usual, not just today, but for the last few. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, lightly tracing my hand on his stomach. 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Gally answered bluntly. 

“You do realise I can tell when you’re lying right, I don’t need eyes to see that,” I shot back in a somewhat jokey tone, but Gally just simply sighed, as he pulled me closer to him. 

“Things are changing, they have been ever since Thomas arrived...he could ruin everything we’ve worked for,” Gally confessed. 

“He’s just trying to help; to work out what’s out there,” I said in an attempt to defend Thomas. Everyone here wanted the same thing-to protect each other; the problem, is that Gally and Thomas both have very different ideas on how to do that, and slowly it’s causing tension which Alby is trying to avoid. 

“Well his help might just get us killed,” he bit back, before letting out a long sigh. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” 

“It’s okay,” I said,moving my hand up to trace his chin.

“It’s all gonna be okay, Gal,”I whispered.

“Princess, I want to believe you but-”

“But nothing,” I interrupted him, moving slightly so we were now face to face. 

“As long as we’ve got each other everything will be okay,” I reassured, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. 

“You’re always so optimistic,” Gally whispered against my lips, as one of his hands moved to slowly my face, lightly caressing my cheek. 

“Well, one of us has to be,” I chuckled before he pulled me into another kiss. 

Time skip(yes another one)-After the attack on the Glade

So many were dead. Alby was dead. Our leader was dead. Thomas used the stinger to sting himself and find out whatever truth Alby had found out, he’d spent the night in the pit..and now was being dragged infront of the maze. Thersea was being tied to a pole; both of them being some kind of offering to the Grievers. And Gally had become the leader that decided this.

“This is such a waste,” He said, clearly talking about Thomas Theresea. 

“Gally, this is wrong,” I said, trying to reason with him.

“I’m trying to protect everyone that’s still alive in here, I’m trying to protect you,” he defended

“What if Thomas is right, maybe he could lead us home,” Geoff said 

“We are home,” Gally argued back; he’d always referred to this place as home-most of us did, but I also felt like there was something more out there..something more than this; a life that wasn’t filled with the same four walls and the same daily routine, maybe that’s why Thomas and I got on well, because we both thought the same thing-the difference was he could go out and find the truth, unlike me. Just because this was the only place I remembered living in, didn’t make it my home. I was so lost in my thoughts the only thing that brought me back to reality when I heard Thomas’ voice. I don’t know exactly what had happened, but I knew it wasn't good..

“You don’t have to come with us but we are leaving,” Thomas said. Causing thoughts to run through my head again. Thoughts that had me torn about what to do..we could all go with them, find out the truth together about why we were here.

“We don’t belong here,” I heard him say, and that one sentence was enough for me to make up my mind..he was right, we didn’t belong here, none of us did. 

“We were put here, we’re trapped here,” he continued, but Gally just scoffed in response. 

“Gal, what is he’s right?” I asked calmly, trying once again to reason with him. I couldn’t see the expression on his face...but I was pretty sure it was mixture between angry, confused and shocked. 

“And what if he's not, then we all die,” he said as I heard his footsteps get closer to me. 

“That could happen anyway..we might..we might have some sort of a chance out there,” I tried to explain to him. 

“So, you’re going to go with them?! Gally asked with venom in his voice. 

“We need to at least try and find out the truth..come with us,” I begged, trying to persuade him to see sense; I lightly reached for his hand but he just pulled it away. 

“As long as we’ve got eachother, everything will be okay, that’s what you said..and now you���re leaving..you’re leaving me...leaving our home,” Gally said the sadness evident in his voice, and it broke my heart; but I believed that either way we were gonna die and that I might as well die trying to get out of this place. 

“This isn’t out home, Gal, it’s just a place we exist in...please come with us,” I said, trying once again to grab Gallys hand and get him to come with us, but when I reached out to him he wasn’t there, so I just slowly walked forward towards where Thomas’ voice was coming from; Newt quickly ran to my side, grabbing my hand once he realised that I was coming with them, guiding me to the rest of the group.

“Gally, come with us,” I begged one final time. 

“Good luck against the Grievers,” was all he said, and that was our cue to leave. Newt hadn’t let go of my hand since we’d started running, he’d always been like an older brother to me,I trusted him-but one bad thing about being close to someone is that they can tell when somethings wrong and Newt knew me better than most. 

“What’s wrong?” Newt asked, squeezing my hand lightly. 

“Maybe I should’ve stayed in the Glade, I don’t want to be a burden to anyone” I said, trying to decide to follow my heart or my head. 

“What?” Newt asked, confusion lacing his voice. 

“I’m blind, Newt, I can’t see what’s right infront of me, let alone try and kill a Griever,” I explained, attempting to pull my hand away from his, but he just gripped it tighter. 

“You deserve a chance to know the truth, just like the rest of us,” he stated, as our running halted slightly so he could pull me into a quick hug. 

“We’re like family, Y/n/n, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he whispered in my ear, before grabbing my hand again so we could carry on running, I only hoped the people that we left behind would be safe too. That Gally would be safe...and maybe one day we’d see each other again.

Tag list: 

@glicabhainn00

[justasimptm]

The Bride C17

The voice rings clear and stern, tone filled with rage and disbelief. Heisenberg stands a few feet away, leaning on his hammer, watching Moreau hesitant in front of me. It’s kind of funny to me, watching him panic, it’s like he’s hitting all the stages of grief at the same time. His mouth flaps like a fish, which is even funnier given his ugly other form, but to give him credit, he doesn’t back away. Heisenberg barely twitches a finger, but the knife he was holding flies from his hand, banging loudly on the support beam behind us. I feel both relieved and tense still as he steps closer, knowing I’m not alone but unsure how he’s going to deal with this situation.

“Mother wanted me to do another test! I’m making progress!” Moreau whimpers, matching his steps moving backwards, only stopping when he bumps into his little table and trips, falling to the ground with a nauseating wet slap. Heisenberg doesn’t even look at me, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the dolt that’s trying to skitter away from him. “You should-you should go! Let me finish my work!” Heisenberg scoffs at the effort, twisting his fingers slightly to pull the needle from my arm, letting it ping to the ground before sliding the bucket that had started collecting my blood over to him. It sloshes slightly, and I realise he had already started draining me before I woke up.

“I think, you have plenty. And I also think if you ever try something like this again, I will tell Mother Miranda about your betrayal, because that’s what this is, and she’ll cast you out for it. Let her out of your filth.” He hisses, leaving no room for argument or discussion. Within seconds I feel the sludge holding me up release, which is both a relief and a shock, because without it I feel a million pounds heavier and I tumble forward into Heisenberg, who with all his grace, manages to catch me before I hit the ground.

Without so much as letting the other creature breathe a syllable in reply, Heisenberg turns, and promptly stalks from the mines, resurfacing through the hut before walking us slightly downstream. He sets me down carefully on one of the bigger rocks, letting me adjust myself before fully releasing me and sitting down next to me. Part of me wonders how he found me, but part of me doesn’t want to ask, wanting instead to break down slightly and thank him for saving us again, even after our last encounter had been so cold. I scramble for the words to say to break our silence, even a simple thank you not feeling good enough. My buffering seems to register with him, so he fortunately takes the initiative and speaks first so I don’t have to.

“Do you need blood? He got a lot before I got there.” He asks, eyeing me up and down before looking out at the running water. The concern in his voice shocks me for a split second before I reply, humming thoughtfully as I focus on my body to see if I can get it to wake up. He must’ve really taken a good portion of what I had running through me because even now, out of his slime and out in the light, my body feels like it could drop into a coma at any second.

“I will. Before I go home if I can manage it. Thank you for coming, Lord-” I start, watching him from the corner of my eyes so I can look without staring directly. Before I can finish my miniature praise he cuts me off with the waive of his hand.

“I wasn’t gonna let that Fish Chum kill you. And I’m pretty sure I told you to call me Karl.” He states, turning to face me head on, but keeping his attention low as he shrugs off his jacket and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. My brows furrow at his movement and I have to force myself away from staring at his now exposed arm and flexing biceps as he moves them. “I know I’m probably not preferred dinner, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anyone fresher.” He mutters and it suddenly strikes me what he’s planning. Before I could protest, both at the intimacy of it and the idea of drinking from him and hurting  him, he pulled a thin knife from his belt and made a small cut across his arm. Not so deep as to cause much damage, but enough to make his blood sing in the air. “Don’t even think about saying no. Can’t have you dying’ on me yet, Doll. I still gotta make you like me.”

His words barely register on my mind as I reach for him on instinct, he pulls me closer to his side, running his fingers through my pinned hair and letting it fall fully loose from it’s half destroyed bun. It’s interesting as I latch on, not biting really, more like suckling, the conscious part of my brain trying not to cause too much harm. What’s even more interesting is that instead of tensing, like most would under the fang of what could arguably be considered a vampire despite our real creation, he relaxes into me. Sighing as my lips close on his skin and I apply the first light pressure of sucking, not flinching as my tongue swipes over the cut he made, tasting him for the first time.

He tastes like the best treats you could imagine. Like a fresh strawberry, dipped in rich dark chocolate, both sweet and bitter, but a perfect combination of both. He tastes like nothing I’ve had before, something I can only imagine could be compared to having your favorite meal at the end of a long week. My eyelids flutter close at the first drop that I pull into my mouth. Trying so hard not to be greedy, but wanting so desperately to bite and drink until I can’t. I think I hear myself whimper slightly, but I’m quickly soothed by his gentle shushing as he runs his fingers through my hair, scraping slightly along my scalp. The paired sensations of his coarse fingers on my head, his calm voice telling me it’s okay and to take what I need is almost too much to handle.

It makes me not want to stop, even though I know I need to. My body feels alive, humming with strength and more energy than I’ve had in years, and I fight every single nerve I have as I pull my stained lips away from his arm. When he asks me if I’ve had enough I almost laugh. No, I want to say, I need more, I need everything, but I say yes, because I am sated, belly full and happy, warmth flowing back to my fingers and my cheeks. His face is tinged red, just so slightly, a thin layer of sweat along his forehead, and for a split second I’m terrified I took too much. But as smoothly as he had rolled it up, he tugs his sleeve back down, nodding to himself. We sit in silence for another minute, letting both of our breathings steady before trying to return to conversation.

At first our conversation is light, he asks how I ended up in the mines, I ask how he knew I was there. Both of us give half truths, evading what we think will embarrass ourselves, but walking on eggshells grows tiresome fast.

“Are you scared of your mother?” He asks out of the blue, making me choke slightly on the breath I was taking. I can’t stop myself from looking around at who might have heard him, but we’re alone, just as we were when we came down.

“My mother is...a very complicated woman.” I start, treading carefully, but he scoffs at my statement, making me smile lightly. “Maybe a bit more than complicated. She’s always wanted what she thought was best for me. For her, really.” The sadness in my voice sobers him quickly. As I find the next words he gently pulls his glasses off, putting them to the side on his jacket. I started explaining that we were both sick, her and I, but she wanted to be cured, leading into her magical find, the thing that would keep her alive for ages. He knows what I mean without having to say it. “She came home that night different. Physically, mentally. She looked like my mother but she didn’t exactly act like her. I was terrified, if I’m going to be honest. She changed me though, even though I…” I can’t finish that sentence, but I don’t have to, judging by the look on his face he already understands. “It took me a while to accept this, and when I finally did she really wasn’t my mother anymore. She was twisted up, and if I’m going to be honest, yes. I am afraid of her. I think everyone should be, really. She has no remorse for anything she does, wanting only for us all to love her. Me, my sisters, Miranda. That’s the only thing that drives her anymore.” What he asks next sends a spear of shock through my gut.

“So why haven’t you left?”

Why haven’t I left? God, that’s a very good question. I can go outside, I can fend for myself quite easily. So why not? The answer is much harder than anything else I could say.

“Because if I leave, I die.” His mouth drops at the bluntness of my response, and I have to fight to keep my voice steady. “My pendant is burned into my chest. If I try to leave, my mother can break the charm on it that keeps the silver poisoning from spreading, and kill me. I stay with her because I’m sick of dying. I’m sick of living. I’m sick of not having a choice on which I do. So I choose to stay, because it’s the only choice I have.” He doesn’t  have a follow up question, and the silence that was once comfortable now feels suffocating. “Thank you for helping me, Karl. I need to get back now. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

Without so much as another beat of my heart I swarm, quickly finishing the ascent back up to my home, not reforming until I’m firmly inside the doors.

Heisenberg's POV

When I found her, mounted to the wall like some goddamn experiment, it felt like my entire world stopped moving. She was alive, but the white sheen on her face told me that wouldn’t be the case for very long. I know for a fact that this oaf didn’t ask Miranda if he could do this, so that was my opening, and thank god it worked. I was able to get her out of there before something bad really happened. Out in the sunlight she seems more calm, but she’s still too pale. It strikes me that she needs blood, to replace what he took. I start to scramble mentally, not sure where to find her something to eat, not wanting to leave her to do it.

The thought breezes through my head in a split second. If she needs blood, I think, she can drink mine. Then I think about the parasite infecting my body and I grimace, I doubt she’ll really want that. Still, however, I offer, and a warm tingle goes up my back when she agrees. When she starts mouthing at the cut I made on my arm I fight every fiber of my being to stop myself from shivering. The feeling of her tongue swiping over it, the deep but gentle sucking and the blissed out look on her face is almost too much for me. Almost too much but somehow not nearly enough.

The moment is over almost as soon as it starts. She releases my arm from her hands and pulls back, her breath still ghosting over my skin. I want to tell her she can keep going, just to feel it again, to see her like that, but I know she stopped for a reason so I don’t push it. After steadying our breathing and calming down, I decided to break the silence and try talking to her.

Our conversation is airy, but I can’t stop myself from asking the question I’ve been dying to know the answer to for ages, ‘are you scared of your mother’. When she says yes my blood boils. She tells me how her mother came back fucked up and forced the change onto her. She didn’t want this life either. She tries to keep her voice stable but I can still hear the hints of it shaking. The next question falls from my mouth before I can stop it.

“Why haven’t you left?” I propose. This seems to stump her for a minute, but she pulls her shoulders back and her face droops in resignation. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to answer, but she does before I get a chance.

“Because if I leave, I die.” She tells me, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the throat. She explains how the pendant she has is burned into her body, which explains why I never see it move, and that if she leaves her mother will take the charm off of it and let her die. It’s silver, the same material used to stab her those weeks ago. If I look close enough I can see small back veins around where the pendant sits, evidence that it would kill her. Before I can say anything else she’s gone, whisked back to her tower, far away from me. When she’s gone it feels less warm in the sun, everything somehow dimmer. I’m going to find a way to save her, I think to myself, and nobody will ever hurt her again.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

[oingo233]

Rapture is a Boy (8)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior?  And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader(neutral)

Warning: FLUFF, so much fluff you could drown in it, self-doubt (brief) 

Authors Note: This is the last part, which is crazy to me, I truly hope yall love it.  This series is dear to my heart because it has allowed me to meet and talk to you and so many other amazing people!  You all mean so much to me, and Remus is my lil baby too. I can’t even express how much I appreciate and love you all <3

Word Count: 5k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

                                                    Part Eight

                                      ****A Stag, a Rat and a Dog***

Remus POV

“That was-” Peter couldn’t even finish his sentence, he just laughed, he laughed so loud it was hard not to join in with him.  James pat his back and nodded, wiping some of the blue glitter off on his shirt.

“Right, mate.” he agreed.  Sirius was bouncing in his spot, none of our smiles breaking or dimming. “Another notch under the belt of our legacy of awesome,” he all but sang, all of our cheeks still flushed from this morning. He hit Sirius’s arm and they began to race up the stairs, Peter and I followed, jogging after them.  “Lily loved it too!” he added, smiling even bigger at just the thought of her, he was beating Sirius.  

We all stopped running and Sirius was scowling, he lost, we all stood at the portrait when Sirius turned to me.  “Worked well on (Y/N) too,” he stated, smirking at me and making a sexual motion with his hips, James laughed and I pushed him. “Ew, your palms are sweaty.”

“We’ll excuse me, ABBA sweats no doubt after giving the performance of a life time.” I say while James says the word and the painting opens for us. “Besides, it has worked for now.  But they are still oblivious to the truth.  I might lose them all over again, once they know.”

The mood seemed to darken at this realization.  Not everyone is as understanding about my condition as the boys. That’s the real reason I couldn’t stop sweating, and if the boys looked close enough they’d see I couldn’t stop shaking ever so slightly too.  I just got (Y/N) back, I’m not sure how well I’d be able to cope with losing them a second, and final time.  My heart broke just at the thought, and at the very realization that I might have to prepare myself for such an outcome.

“Mate, (Y/N) is one of the people in this world that loves you most.  Besides us of course,” James smiled softly, trying to lighten the mood whenever he could, “I doubt, that anything could make them think differently of you.  You’re not just your condition.  You’re Remus feckin Lupin!” The other boys cheered in agreement as we stepped into our dorms, Peter even went as far as rubbing my shoulders to build up my confidence, he saw a trainer do it to a wrestler on muggle TV once.

“And we’ve got a romantic feckin plan!” Peter cheers, still excited about what is yet to happen. I swallow thickly once more, this day could be one of the best in a while, or the absolute worst.  I guess we’ll know tonight.  

“Yes, and are you guys sure you are okay with this?” I ask, for the fifth time.  James rolls his eyes, and Sirius bangs his head on the dorm room wall.  

“Yes, Moony.  Yes. Yes. Yes.  We are okay with this for the millionth time.  (Y/N) is our friend too, and all we want is to see the lot of ya happy again, so will ya shut up about it.  We already agreed, mate,” Sirius says, looking up just barely lifting his head from the wall.

“And we don’t like lying to (Y/N) either,” James says, Peter nods with each word falling from their lips, as he tugs on pants and grabs a new, not bedazzled, robe.

We were still talking and going over plans for tonight when we left for first period.  The common room was quite expect for our meshed whispers and loud footfalls, it wasn’t until the painting door swung open that we heard another sound.  An all too familiar sound.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat before us.  Her hands folded in at her chest and her pointed eyes trained on us, unblinking.  We all swallowed thickly, our fear and respect for her almost overwhelmed our courage and friendliness towards her.  Almost.

“Did ya enjoy the concert, Minnie?  I was singing just for you.” Sirius said, smiling and trying not to laugh as her expression remained unmoving.  James joined in and I nearly rolled my eyes, but a smile found it’s way onto my lips nonetheless.

“Yeah, we saw ya a-tap-tap-tappy your toes!” He says, doing a little dance.  I was amazed by her ability to not even crack a smile at our enthusiasm, but then again, this was nothing new to her.  “ABBA gets to the best of us doesn’t it?”  As if on cue, Sirius was speaking again. I fought my smile and faked a sullen expression, fingers crossed behind my back, this was the part where one of us tried to weasel our way out of trouble.

“Exactly, our hearts were in it Professor, truly we had good reason and we weren’t hurting anyone.  Shame.  Just a shame Dumbledore gave us detention, any more severe punishment just wouldn’t make any sense.”  She raised a brow and in a last attempt I put in a word of my own.

“But you’re always so sensible Ms. McGonagall. I’m sure your punishment for us will be well-deserved.  Perhaps our outfits were too flashy?” Peter chuckles beside me, and shows her the inside of his robe.

“But this one isn’t at all. Ya see?” He shows her adamantly until she raises a hand and we are drowning in silence, she made us sweat in our palms and neck before speaking.

“Yes.  It appears your shenanigans are over.  But Lucy is still in the hospital wing scrubbing at her skin, the smell is pungent and unmoving.  It seems, Sirius,” She turns to face him, his adam apple bobs, “You did hurt someone.  The real shame is that you don’t seem bothered by that fact.  Follow me, boys.” She said, turning on us, her robes nearly swinging up and hitting our shins.  We follow wordlessly and with our heads down, her words bothered us a little, what really stung was the disappointment on her face and in her frown. (Though Sirius swears he heard her singing along).

She went to Peter’s class first, he went to follow her inside but she raised a hand and said “Oh, you won’t be going to class this morning, Mr.Pettigrew.” She excused Peter herself, whispering into the teachers ear.  My heart sank at the realization that I would not be seeing (Y/N) again this morning, James eyes me, my mood obviously changed.  I couldn’t even spend any time with them before tonight, our lunch would serve as detention as well. I might never get to see them again after tonight, couldn’t even enjoy this little time I have before the truth is out.  I won’t be able to be at peace until tonight or maybe even after, because who will love a monster?

For the rest of the morning we were locked in McGonagall’s empty classroom, writing out letters of apology to be given to Lucy in person later that day.  And attempting to come up with a charm or some potion that would reverse the long lasting affect of the Stink Bombs that we have created.  Wouldn’t be a marauders prank unless everything was well crafted, would it?  But now, our little spell seems to be our downfall.  Luckily, we found the right reversion potion, and it was taken to Madame Pom. immediately.  By the time we were allowed to leave, the bell for second period had just rang.

I sat through my classes with sweaty hands, and bouncing legs.  I agonized in the silence of detention about all that could go wrong, several times I re-debated whether I should really tell (Y/N) the truth, but it was clear that I needed too.  I have lied for too long, and it has cost me too much.  The truth will set me free...or at least I hope it will.  I sat through my very last classes feeling both sick, and determined.  Before we knew it, it was dinner time and James, Sirius, Peter and I snuck out of the castle for our final act of salvation.  Our last attempt to make things right.

Your POV

The ground was rocky and uneven below my feet, between the clumps of dirt and hidden rocks this trip to Hagrids hut felt more like a mountain climbing experience than anything else.  But my breathing was not ragged and exaggerated because of the walk, no, it was because ever since this morning my heart has been beating out of control.  I’ve been breathless and filled with both anxiety and warmth since Remus kissed my cheek and handed me this note.

Tonight will mark either the end or the fresh start of our relationship, of our friendship...of our love.  

My head is spinning as I stumble over a pumpkin root. What has he been hiding from me?  Is it something bad, or big, or maybe something he is just blowing way out of proportion?  What if the truth pulls us apart even more than the lies?

I shake my head in an attempt to free myself of this anxiety that swells in my stomach like a churning sea.  Whatever it is, I will face it with patience and love, but also self-respect.  I repeat this to myself until before I know it, I am at Hagrids hut.  The walls of his house seemed to mountain over me, it smelled strongly of firewhiskey, burning firewood,rich dirt and sweet pumpkins.  The smell did wonders in calming my mind, but I rather large frown makes its way onto my face as I look around.  There was absolutely no one in sight.

I cuss under my breath.  Maybe this is the wrong place.  Maybe Remus is late?  I chew at my bottom lip and take a few large steps around the hut, my eyes keep going back to analyze the trees of the forest.  The shadows of the forbidden forest seemed to reach for me.  It called for me.  As if it was a whirlpool sucking me in I stepped towards it, staring into the layers of dark, large trees.  

I held my breath as a bush by the very edge of the forest shook, rustling leaves and snapping twigs filled the brisk night air.  I shivered, whether it was from the cold or the sudden fear I was not sure, but I did not have time to debate my feelings because suddenly, a canopy of dark green vines, hanging from the trees shifted.  

Large, cream horns parted the vines and drooping tree leaves, a particular branch got stuck on the intricate swirling of the horns and snapped completely as the creature stepped further from the shadows, revealing itself to me. 

A beautiful Stag stood proud, it’s thick coat shone under the moonlight, it’s chest puffed out at me with pride.  The horns only added to it’s graceful height, but it’s eyes are what truly took my breath away.  Those round, warm eyes they were so human.  So familiar.  Before I could debate it any further, the Stag stamped it’s hoof in the dirt softly, it snorted and white air swirled around it’s soft face.  Only then did I notice the beautiful yellow rose, plucked from a bush and resting at it’s front legs.

I bring a shaky hand to my mouth, barely able to comprehended the wave of emotions that nearly knock me to my feet. This was of Remus’s doing.  But...how?  The Stag inclines it’s head curiously at me to the right, it’s large ears flicking with some sort of impatience, or unrest.  Only then did I fully seem to understand the familiarity of this creature.  

“James?” I gasp.  The Stag seems to stand even taller at me, and...smiles.  With my mouth still hanging wide open I let out a boisterous laugh.  “James!” I almost yell, the Stag snorts again and leans it’s head down, using his nose to push the rose towards me.  The movement doesn’t help me get over my shock, but it stirs me into action.  I begin to cautiously walk forwards, and as I do the Stag er, James, picks up the rose between it’s teeth, when I am close enough he softly nuzzles it into my hand.  I grip it tightly, it has already been de-thorned.

Carefully, with my free hand, I reach it out just a few inches in front of me and James places his Stag head onto my palm.  I pet him softly, he stares up at me and it was as if I was staring at James himself.

“You clever bastard!” I exclaim, I knew how hard becoming Animigus is, but why would he do such a thing?  I was broken out of my trance when the Stag (James) begins to walk, slowly at first, he looks back at me and inclines his head first and it was as if I could just hear him saying, in his cheeky manner ‘Ladies first, of course,”

I swallow thickly and fight another bout of paralyzing shock, and instead smile, following James through the forest.  His hoofs sinking softly into the ground, the sound was methodic and helped with the strange over pour of emotions I’m feeling.

What happened next, is actually quite embarrassing.  It started with a little scamper by my feet.  Considering how far we’ve walked into the forest I was more than a bit concerned for my safety, but the large, strong Stag beside me cast most of my fears to the side.  Then, through a break of moonlight through the trees I saw it.  A large, fat rat!

I screamed so loud, dark ravens flew from their slumbers in the trees.  James beside me stomped his feet, and checked the perimeter with analyzing eyes, searching for the danger.  But they only found the rat.  I never thought a Stag could give such an amused, disappointed expression, yet here I stand.  Clinging to a deers ass for dear life, and he is looking back at me with said expression. My cheeks flush and I let go of his furry back, then the Rat very slowly inches towards me.  

It’s sharp nose lifting and dancing from side to side, it’s soft brown eyes sparkling up at me.  I’d say it even looked a little cute, friendly even.  But what unusual behavior, and what unusual eyes.  It’s tail glowing under the white light like a plump, pink worm...

“Wormtail!” I realize, laughter bubbling from my chest. The Rat lets out a gleeful squeak and James besides me snorts once again, seeming to laugh.  The Rat scurried off into the shadows, and I can’t help but berate myself.  Did I hurt his feelings?

But then he comes bounding back into sight, he stands on his back legs and his little Rat face seemed to glow with excitement as his pink hands unveiled a small little white wildflower.  The same kind Remus would pick for me on walks we took together. My smile only grows bigger as I do a sweet curtsey and pick up the flower mid-bow, lifting it up to my nose as I stand straight again.  

“My apologies, you know I don’t like rats.  But I suppose I’ll have to make an exception for you.” I smile down at him, and he reveals two yellow buck teeth, smiling up at me with as much of a smile any rat can muster.  I fail to hold in my laughter but extend my arm to him, he climbs up it and perches himself on my shoulder.  I hold the two flowers in one hand, and rest my other on James soft shoulder, so I can be led through the dark forest, I knew by know, they were leading me to Remus.

Peter climbs down my other arm and onto James back, then up his head.  I laugh as Peter holds on for deer(hehe I’m funny) life as James jokingly waves his head back and forth, Peter almost falls off but I help him back.  We all seem to laugh in our own ways, when suddenly a loud bark cuts through the sound of laughter and owls and even the rustling of the woods around us.  It was loud and impatient and yet humorous, it reminded me of someone I know well.  I smirk, raising a brow I turn to the equally amused Stag and Rat, James and Peter.

“Wormtail.  Prongs,” I say, motioning to the Stag who only inclines his head again, “And Padfoot.  Let me guess... Sirius is also some animal wandering these woods, finding us by chance?  A wolf, perhaps?  A dog?” They don’t say a thing, they only begin to walk again.  Turning us towards the sound of the echoing bark.

I was on the ground before I knew what was happening.  We’ve walked just a few more minutes and then a cloud of black overcame my sense and tackled me to the floor.  Black, Sirius Black, was a dog and on top of me.  He was barking right by my ear and cuddling me, it wasn’t until two little Rat hands attempted to push his leg that he got off.  

I was laughing uncontrollably, this was all too much.  Too crazy.  I knew they were geniuses, but this... becoming Animagus and though the reason was unclear I could feel it, something to do with Remus.  With Moony.  The nickname had a new meaning to me, and I wasn’t sure what yet, but I was sure I was about to find out.  

Sirius was racing around me in circles as I stood up.  His black tail wagging wildly, and his fur rustled and tossed under the wind.  I wanted to coo and awe, though his eyes were human and mischievous, the rest of him was adorable and strong.  A proud, handsome looking dog.  It was clear, by his behavior, that he was just as excited to reveal this big secret, as I was to know the truth.

“Sirius!  You dog,” I joke, a bad one on my part but he still barked with laughter and I shook my head, taking in the three of them.  This was, Merlin, I didn’t even know what this was other than beyond surprising and impressive.  Shocking.

Suddenly, Sirius makes one last dart behind me, he sends me in a spin and by the time I can control my footing he is back in front of me.  He is sitting on his back legs, front paws up in the air and bent in a cute trick, his ears flopped forward.  Just above his paws, drooping from the jaws of his mouth is a single daffodil.  Daffodils, like the one written about in this favorite poem of mine that Remus would read me on bad days, I Wandered Lonely as A Cloud by William Wordsworth.

I sigh, tilting my head to the left, a soft smile on my lips.  Everything about this was amazing and sweet.  It was amazing that the boys had this whole other life I never knew about, which I’m sure there will be a reasonable explanation for my ignorance because ouch.  But sweet, because this was obviously planned my Remus, but the boys were taking their own time to make it happen.  I bend down and pat Sirius’s head, the only time he lets me touch his hair, I think, almost laughing.  His tail wags as I pluck the flower from his mouth and he lets it fall easily into my hand.

I gather it with my other flowers, now forming a little bouquet and bring the whole lot of them up to my face and inhale. I close my eyes as I smell the sweet and powerful aromas, memories with Remus filled my head, and with it, a warmth filled my chest.  

“I hope this hasn’t been all too much for you.  I thought some truths would be better seen than told,” Remus says, walking up behind me.  I spin around, I didn’t even notice the sound of crunching leaves behind me. But I couldn’t find it in me to speak, the moonlight dancing across Remus’s face, highlighting his eyes, and the soft curves of his lips with the ragged lines of his scars, I was astounded by the boy before me.  Once again entranced.  All the anxiety, all the fear has left me, as I stared at him clad in fancy pants and a button up to match.  

He stops walking, unsure of where he stands with me.  I step towards him, finding some clearing in the haze I begin to speak.

“It’s wonderful.  They’re wonderful,” I say, turning with a thankful smile to the stag, the rat and the dog. They each in turn, show their teeth at me in an attempt of a smile.  I laugh and beside me, Remus does too.  With a nod of his head, they turn their backs on us and leave.  I no longer needed guidance or safety.  Remus stood before me and I felt something that has been missing for the past couple of days.  And even though I was in the middle of the dangerous, forbidden forest, I knew that I was also home.  

“I love the flowers. I must say, this night has already taken the most unexpected turn it could, but the nicknames definitely make more sense,” I attempt a bad joke, a habit of mine in a nerve wracking situation but Remus only seems to grimace slightly, before turning it into a smile, though it was a rather sad one.

“Well, you seem to be taking this well.  Have you figured out mine yet?” He asked, his sad tone surprising me. We were so close his voice dropped low just out of habit it seemed, and because the short distance between us put us in a trance.  I missed him.  I missed him so much my body now seemed to come back from the dead and reach for him, I was alive again with dancing butterflies and buzzing questions.  I glanced down to his lips, before taking a step back. 

“No.  But I can guess.  It makes sense, once every month you seem to leave me.  You change into someone who is distant, someone who doesn't seem to love me,” He steps forwards, looking pained by this realization, but as I speak it becomes clearer to me, but I can’t yet reach the conclusion.

“I will never become a person who doesn’t love you.  I will change and grow but you will be the one thing that remains.  You don’t have to guess anymore, but I want you to know that my love for you will always remain, even if after tonight, we do not,” he speaks with such reverence, like our love was something scared to him and deep down, I knew I felt the same way.  It is my first love, and if I can help it, than he will be my only lover until the day I die.  All I can do is nod as he steps forwards again, I can see a bead of sweat roll down the apple of his cheek, he was about to tell me.  I can feel the shaking of his hands as he places them in mine.

Suddenly, his unbreaking stare leaves me, and in place, find the bright moon.  Twinkling in the sky and illuminating us in its wake.  I understood in that moment, Moony.  A boy mapped with scars.  Moony.  A boy plagued by nightmares, and insecurities.  Moony.  A tough, but oh so scared boy who seemed to hate the very night itself.  Moony.  The boy who changes during the month, and is gone completely on the full moon.  Moony.  Moony, the Werewolf.

I pull on his hands and gather him into my embrace, pulling back only to kiss him sweetly.  The world becomes ours as our lips dance with one another to a song we’ve heard before.  It is the song of him making love to me.  It is the song of the poems he reads me and the flowers he picks.  It is the song of the moons very envy as she watches us together.  The song of lovers.  It moves us.  It moves my hands up his neck and through his hair.  It moves his lips across my cheek and jaw and then down my neck.  It moves the wind, and the trees around us.  It pulls the moans from our mouths and then the confessions.

“My beautiful love,” Remus kisses the words into my skin, up to my lips.  “My only love,” he mumbles into my lips, kissing me softly but his hands are bruising at my hips.  As if I would leave him if he did not hold me close enough and for forever.

“I love you, Remus ‘Moony’ Lupin.  I love all of you and all that you ever will be and all that you have been.” He pulls back from me, his eyes glazed with tears and a softness that makes my heart sing.  He nods, and than he laughs.  A tear falls from his eyes as his head leans back and he laughs, the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.  It was as if all his anxiety, and self-hatred has left him and in their place my words have nestled in.  I love him.  I love him.  I love him.

“I’m a werewolf ya know?” he says, still laughing, he knew I made the connection.  At this point it was pre-caution, I roll my eyes and kiss him again.  The world is forgotten as we kiss, as we rejoin as one and as lovers.  I pull back and softly wipe away his tears.

“I know,” I whisper into his lips, he smiles, giving me a soft kiss.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Remus?” I ask, pulling away from him.  He frowns now, his cheeks red with blush, and lips to match.

“I thought I’d lose you forever.  That you’d think I was some monster, or- or beast.  You always looked at me like I was the world, and I was terrified one day you’d see the real me, and just- well, stop loving me altogether.” While he speaks his eyes still glitter with the promise of tears, and my heart sinks at his words.

“I think I understand your anxiety about it.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be.  But I would never stop loving you for such a thing, merlin, I don’t think anything could stop me from loving you.  I never want you to feel the need to hide from me again, okay?” Remus nods into my hands, I still haven't moved them since I wiped away his tears, it seemed like more keeps falling each time.  

“The boys became Animigmus to help with my full moons.  It can get pretty bad… but ever since they have come along things really got better, really they did.” he adds when seeing my sad facial expression.  My heart felt broken all over again at just the thought of Remus being in pain, alone and suffering.  I swore in that moment, I’d do anything in this world to help make things better for him.  I nod my head.  He continues.

“And Lucy, her older sister is a werewolf.  She figured out that I was one pretty quickly, she said I could speak to her about it all, and that she could help somehow.  It was nothing more, she just let me complain and even write some letter to her sister.  I never even thought of Lucy like the way I think of you.  She was always just a friend, but that remains no more.  To hell with her,” he says.  He can’t stop smiling, a real, golden smile.  There was nothing holding him back, I could just tell he felt so much lighter.  I took his hand and wordlessly led him to sit on the grass with me.  We laid shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the stars together.  

He told me in depth about how he was bitten as a child, about how it changed his life.  Then when the boys told him they were becoming Animgus for him and all the little moments and adventures they’ve had since.  He didn’t sugar coat a thing, he didn’t lie.  He was bearing his soul before me for the first time, without any thin veil holding us back and I’ve never felt closer to him.  It was well past curfew by the time I felt satisfied with everything he’s told me, I felt both heavy with this knowledge and yet free.  I felt included and like I truly knew Remus, and I still did love him.  More than ever, I love him.

We laid in silence for some time, my head has moved to lay on his chest and I can hear the steady, warm beating of his heart.

“Can you hear it?” he asks, out of the blue.  I strain my ears to listen to the forest around us, I lift my head slightly and he laughs.  “No. My heart, can you hear it?” I lean back into him and let out a little laugh myself.

“Oh.  Yes,” I smile, “I can hear it.”

“Good.  It beats for you.”mhe says, I look up at him only to find that he has already been looking at me.  His eyes soft, and smile warm, his heart steady under the palm of my hand and loud within the stillness of the night.  It beats for you.  His words echoed in my head and I couldn’t help myself, I lean forward and press my lips against him.  I could kiss him forever.  I could be with him here like this forever, alone and in love, honest and unafraid. 

 I understood a lot of things that night, more than just about who Remus was and the secrets he has been hiding.  More than the truths that he bared and the love that we had. I understood how after all this time of separation and uncertainty.  After exhausting ourselves in a sea of sorrow and questions, we have finally found our peace.  I have found my happiness.  And I realized something rather important.  Rapture is a boy.  Rapture is love.

Taglist:

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[blu-joons]

Ice Skating ~ Han Jisung

Your eyes lit up the moment the ice rink came into view, turning beside you, you could feel Jisung’s body tense up, looking at the many people spinning and skating effortlessly around. You grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the rink, but his body refused to move.

“Jisung the queue is going to get so long if we don’t hurry up,” you sighed, waving your hand across his face.

He blinked a couple of times before turning to face you, “why did you convince me that this was going to be a good idea? I’m going to make such a fool of myself.”

Your head shook, placing your other hand against his shoulder so he was only looking at you. “I promise I won’t let go of your hand, let’s just keep walking and I promise you’ll feel better.”

He reluctantly started walking behind you, digging his heels into the ground with every step he took. He nerves weren’t helped by how cold it was around the rink, a thin shirt and leather jacket might not have been the best choice, even if he did look as stylish as ever.

Thankfully for him, the queue for the rink was quite long, which didn’t please you. As soon as you were stood in the queue, you tightened your grip on his hand to stop him from moving. “It’ll be fun, trust me.”

His head shook as he found himself watching the skaters go round and round, they all made it look so easy, much to his bemusement. He couldn’t imagine himself stepping on the ice, let alone flying around like so many of the others were.

With each step you took closer to the front desk, Jisung’s hands got clammier, and his breathing got heavier. Every part of his mind was telling him to somehow find a way to get away from this.

“Are you sure there’s not more romantic things we could be doing on our last date before Christmas?” He questioned, but your head shook, there was no way you were missing out on this.

“Look how beautiful it is out here, this is romantic Jisung.”

He frowned; you were a tougher cookie to crack this time than usual. As much as he wanted to forget about it, seeing how excited you were to go ice skating with him, he couldn’t bail on you now and deprive you of something you were looking forward to.

Eventually the two of you got to the front of the queue, you were quick to tell the staff your shoe size, whilst Jisung was a little more hesitant. After a little nudge from you he spluttered it out, stumbling over his words, feeling his cheeks quickly turn red.

You were quick to change into your skates, glancing across at Jisung as he seemingly struggled. A groan escaped from you, kneeling down beside him to give him a helping hand.

“Pretending you can’t tie a shoelace isn’t going to stop me getting you on the ice,” you warned him, tapping his shins once both of them were tied.

As soon as he went to stand, he reached for you, steadying himself on his feet. You chuckled lightly, slowly walking him to the entrance of the rink, passing his hands onto the barrier whilst you got onto the ice.

“Just take my hand and trust me,” you smiled, reaching your hand out for him. He nervously took hold of it, placing one foot on the ice before jumping back. “You’re not going to fall if I hold you.”

“That’s easy for you to say, if I go down, you’re going down with me,” he half chuckled, trying once again to get on the ice. Once he was happy with one foot on the ice, he brought his other one on too.

“That’s it!” You cheered, slowly beginning to skate backwards and bring him forwards. “Just get your balance, we can take it nice and slow until you’ve got the hang of it.”

The expression on his face was a picture that you couldn’t help but laugh at, you’d never seen him this nervous before. His grip on your hands was so tight you weren’t really sure if you had any circulation left in them as you began to move further around the rink.

“Why don’t you try moving your skates a bit rather than relying on me?” You suggested, showing him how he needed to move before he began to give it a try.

He was incredibly tentative as he moved, every tiny movement was done with a slight squeal of fear. But as he found his feet moving a little more, he began to settle into a little rhythm, matching you every time you moved your own skates.

“You’ve got it,” you smiled, loosening your grip on him to let him move a little more.

As you did though, he reached out further up your arm to hold onto. “Don’t just leave me to skate like that, I told you I don’t want to fall.”

Your head shook, placing your hands under his elbows to balance him. He’d entirely underestimated just how good he was at skating, even taking you by surprise. You were desperate to let go of him, even if it was just for a moment or two.

“Try and do it alone, I’ll be right here with you,” you assured him, watching as his head shook.

The grip he had on you tightened again, “if it weren’t for you holding onto me right now, I would be on my bum. If you think I’m going to let you let go of me for a second, you are so wrong Y/N.”

“You can do it,” you continued to encourage him, “I’ll move a couple of metres back and see if you can skate to me. At least if you fall, that way I’ll be there to catch you and you won’t get hurt.”

“You promise you’ll catch me?” He questioned as your head nodded in response to him. “Just don’t go back too far, please. And whatever you do, don’t let go of me if I fall.”

You slowly let go of him, making sure he was balanced, creating a bit of a distance between you both. Once you slowed yourself down, Jisung began nervously moving forwards, keeping his hands held out the entire time for you to hold onto if you needed to.

He very quickly found his balance and rhythm, as he came towards you, you began to skate further away from him, letting him carry on going around the rink. Before he had quite realised what, he’d done, the two of you had completed a whole lap of the rink before you held back onto him.

His eyes widened as you cheered, holding onto his hand tightly. “I told you that you could do it, you just needed to have a little faith in yourself, it was easy.”

“I should hate you right now for doing that to me, but I have to admit, it was quite fun,” he chuckled.

Your head shook as the two of you continued to skate around, hand in hand, for a short while before your time on the ice came to an end.

As much fun as he had had on the ice, Jisung was more than relieved to place his feet back into his actual shoes and walk properly on the ground. Once you’d handed your skates back over, you left the small hut, walking back out onto the cobbled ground.

Your eyes stared up at the redness still in his cheeks, as he tried to come to terms with what he’d just managed to achieve. “Next time I tell you to believe in yourself, I think you should believe what I say a little more.”

“I believed you when you said I’d only skate a few metres, not a whole lap,” he joked.

Your head shook, feeling his arm sling around your shoulders, pulling you tighter into his side. Your head hit against his chest, feeling his lips press to the top of your head.

“You did it though,” you reminded him, “imagine how much fun you can have now bragging to the boys that you can add ice skating to the list of things you can do.”

“I did enjoy it more than I thought I would. Maybe ice skating isn’t so bad after all.”

“I told you,” you teased, poking your tongue at him, “and I reckon it was pretty romantic too. You’ve not held onto me that tightly for a long time, even if it was just because you were a little bit scared.”

His head shook, keeping a straight expression on his face. “I was never scared; I just didn’t want to show you up with how talented I was. But if you tell the boys how nervous I was, I’ll never speak to you ever again.”

“I won’t say a word,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll tell them how amazing you were, flying around the ice all by yourself.”

“Maybe we should try this again next year, what do you say?”

“I think that’s a very good idea. I’d love to!”

---

Masterlist

[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 5/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

Warnings: Finding out what happened to the dragon Word Count: 3,682

“This is your last chance to say no.” Matthew was leaning in the doorway of my hut, watching me double-check my bag to see if I have everything I need for my journey to visit the MacFusty clan.

“And I will tell you like every day for the past 3 days that I am not changing my mind. I need to do this, Matt. I can’t sleep at night because I don’t know why Asterin is acting as she is. She couldn’t just be abandoned. The markings on her wings and head are proof of that and after being here for over 2 months she is still absolutely terrified.” I sighed. “And because you won’t allow me to see her since she hurt me, she has been completely alone – just eating and sleeping.”

I wanted to look at him and frown but I knew he was right and only wanted to keep me alive. If it was up to me I would go back to her habitat and work with her the second I could walk properly again. Matthew nearly had to glue me to the bed and make me promise 5 times that I won’t sneak out to go and see her.

Even though my back was still sore and I wasn’t completely healed, I convinced my boss to let me go and see the MacFusty’s. This injury has been by far the worse one I endured since I started working here 10 years ago but I don’t blame her for it.

Did I almost die? Yes. Do I think she did it intentionally? No.

During the two months I spent in the hospital I have been coming up with a plan for what will I say to the family when I get there. Matthew wrote to them on my behalf and they were more than happy to welcome me and give me accommodation for the time being.

“I just need a favor from you before I go.” I zipped my bag and looked up at him.

“Why do I have a feeling I will want to say no to what you’re going to ask of me but you won’t let me?” Matt raised his eyebrows.

“I want to see Asterin,” I said determinedly.

“No way. Charles, you do remember the reason why you were laying in the infirmary for the past two months, right?” Matthew furrowed his brows.

“You do remember why I am going to Scotland in the first place, right?” I playfully rolled my eyes at him.

“You and your Sagittarius adventurous spirit will be the end of you one day, Charles.” Matthew sighed but didn’t say anything else.

“Does that mean I can see her?” I almost jumped on the spot.

“You would sneak out and go and see her even if I told you not to so why did you even ask?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I smirked and walked past him with my bag.

“Your portkey leaves in an hour though!” He shouted after me but I only waved and hurried to the dragon.

I put my bag down next to the edge of her habitat and carefully moved forward. Even though I knew that Asterin had a reason to attack me I was still a bit nervous to see her. I didn’t know how she’ll react when she catches the sight of me and I was hoping she wouldn’t want to repeat what she did 2 months ago.

“Asterin, where are you, girl?” I swallowed thickly, trying to steady my shaking voice.

The second she heard me I could feel the ground shaking with her stomps.

“Here you are! I am sorry I didn’t visit you for such a long time.”

Asterin replied with a roar straight to my face but she kept her distance.

“I know you haven’t seen me in two months. You probably didn’t miss me as much as I missed you but I hope you did – at least a little bit. I am just here to tell you something, mind if I sit down?” I asked with my head bowed, my heart drumming in my chest.

Asterin didn’t do anything. She sat as she usually does with her claws dug into the earth.

“I am going to Scotland to visit the MacFusty family. Do you remember them? They were the ones that brought you here.”

She sat still and only gave out a loud-sounding growl.

“I know that if you could speak things would be so much easier. I know that something had to happen to you, something bad, that you are so reserved and so untrusting. And I am going there to find out what it is. I am not giving up on you, alright. I promise you that, Asterin.” I looked up at her. She tilted her head to the side, looking like she was trying to figure out what I was saying.

“And when I come back, we are going to start from scratch. I hope you know I don’t blame you for what happened. I know it was your past doing the action and not you. You can trust me, Asterin.” I gave out a soft smile and stood back up.

“I will be back before you know it and then get ready to be around me all the time.” I chuckled to myself. “You’ll see how annoying I can be.”

I grabbed my bag and hurried to where the portkey was waiting for me, leaving Asterin behind howling as if she was calling for me to come back.

—

“Hi, I’m Marcus.” A tall man greeted me when I arrived in Scotland.

“Hi, I’m Charlie.” I dusted my trousers before giving him my hand to shake.

“Oh, we know who you are, Charles Weasley. We have made the right decision assigning Asterin to you. I have heard you are doing a great job.” Marcus grinned at me.

“Where did you hear that?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I have been in the infirmary for the past 2 months because I wasn’t careful around her and I didn’t make any progress.”

“Well, Matthew told me that you have been spending every day with Asterin before she ambushed you and she didn’t snap at you or want to eat you alive so I call that progress.” He giggled.

“You call that… What exactly did she do when she was with you?”

“The attack you suffered happened here a few times. That was the reason we wanted to transfer her. We figured that perhaps being so close to where she was found didn’t suit her.” Marcus replied.

“She attacked more than one person?” My eyes widened in surprise.

“8 to be exact.” He nodded.

I didn’t know what to say, staring at him with my mouth open. I know I shouldn’t feel relief after finding out that 8 people got hurt but I couldn’t help but feel good that Asterin didn’t only do this to me. It means that I didn’t do anything wrong or scare her, she simply doesn’t trust anyone.

“I have so many questions.” I shook my head as we got to the reserve.

“And I wish I could give you all the answers, Charlie.” Marcus’ shoulders sank. “But unfortunately we told everything we know to Matthew before bringing her to you.”

“Will you at least take me to where you found her?”

“Of course! I am not going to lie we were surprised when we got the letter announcing your arrival but we were happy you decided to come here instead and not give up on her just yet.” He smiled softly at me. “I will never give up on Asterin,” I said more to myself than to him but the shining look in his eyes told me he heard me and he liked what I said.

“How are you feeling after the journey? Do you want me to show you to your room so you can get some rest or maybe offer you something to drink or eat?”

“Thank you, Marcus, you are very kind but if you don’t mind I would like to go to the forest straight away. I don’t want to lose any time.”

“Now I know why Mary was so eager to pick you after she talked to the Swedish Sanctuary.” He laughed.

“What do you mean?” I tilted my head in confusion.

“Mary and John decided to transfer her to Sweden and when Mary got their answer, them recommending you, she replied to them at once wanting to know all about you.” He started to explain. “She was very impressed with the work you’ve done in one year in Sweden – especially when she found out how young you are.” He winked at me.

“You people flatter me too much. It’s just work.” I bowed my head, trying to hide the fact that all these compliments made my blood rush to my cheeks.

“Perhaps, it’s you that has to give yourself more credit, Charlie.” He gestured with his hand for me to step inside the 3 stories high wooden house.

“Mary, there’s someone that I think you’d like to meet,” Marcus shouted.

“Oh, dear Merlin! Is he here?” A woman that reminded me of an older version of his sister-in-law Fleur, came down the stairs with sparks in her eyes.

“Hi, I’m Charlie.” I waved awkwardly, not knowing what to do as she stared at me for solid 5 seconds.

“Oh, pardon me! I didn’t mean to stare, dear. I just wanted to meet you for months now!” She jumped in the air a bit before shaking my hand. “Thank you so much for putting so much effort and trying to find out what is wrong with Asterin. She is such a sweetheart despite, well, causing some incidents.”

“Well, the good news is, in Romania, she only hurt me.” I smiled reassuringly.

“We’ve heard.” She frowned. “I am so sorry. I am happy to see you back in good health and I admire you for still wanting to help her.”

“Could someone take me to where you found her?” I cleared my throat. I didn’t come all this way to be showered with so many compliments.

“Of course! I’m busy making supper but I will ask John if he can take you. I’ll be back in a second.” She bestowed me with a wide smile and hurried back upstairs.

Not a minute later, she came down with a young man, whispering something to him.

“Charlie! So nice to finally meet you! Are you ready to head out?” He offered me his hand without introducing himself. The second I shook it, he walked toward the door and gestured for me to follow him.

“I hope they didn’t bombard you with questions.” He sniggered when we got a few meters away from the house.

“No, it was okay.” I let out a silent laugh.

“I’m John, by the way. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I just saw the look on your face and had a feeling you needed to be rescued from that situation.”

“Nice to meet you, John. As I said, it was fine. I just prefer dragons over people, I guess. I am less awkward with them.” I shrugged.

“Oh, I understand. If Mary would let me, I would be outside with them all the time.” We stopped at the edge of the forest.

“I truly hope you find something in there. We were very thorough with our investigation but whoever left her in there was careful not to leave any tracks behind.” John looked angry.

We were walking for about 10 minutes when the thick forest started to open up. Some of the trees in front of us were broken and the ground looked scorched.

“This is it,” John whispered as we stopped walking and turned to me. “Take as much time as you need. I’ll be right here.”

“It’s okay. I remember how we got here so if you have anything else to do, you can go. I’ll come back alone.” I smiled. “Alright. Then I will go and play with Hephaestus. He hatched 3 weeks ago and he is adorable! When you come back I can introduce you if you’d like.” He grinned at me.

“I would love that.” I waved at him and he disappeared between the trees.

I took a deep breath and turned around. I couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in my chest. What if I can’t find anything? What if I return empty-handed and I won’t know how to tame her or help her not feel so afraid? What if I fail? I would have to break my promise to her.

“No,” I whispered to myself and inhaled and exhaled deeply. “This has to work.”

I walked closer to the scorched area and lit my wand to see better. I was determined not to leave until I find something that could help me.

The darker it got the more I lost all hope that perhaps the MacFusty family did miss something. I was ready to leave, after about 3 hours of walking around and checking every tree and twig on the ground for evidence when I looked at the big boulder on my left for what seemed like the 15th time.

It looked out of place but I couldn’t wrap my head around why that was. There is nothing unusual about a big rock in the middle of a forest but not placed like that – not leaned against a tree. I made my way to it and looked at the ground around it. It looked as if it fell to the spot and wasn’t moved again.

I decided to head back and ask John and the others about it. If they moved the rock then I will go to the forest again tomorrow and search for more clues, if not then I might just have an idea about what happened!

“Charlie, you’re back. We got worried and were ready to go and find you.” Mary said the second I came through the door.

“I apologize. I didn’t want to scare anyone. I just wanted to stay for as long as I had light.”

“Which was 2 hours ago.” Marcus sniggered.

“Did you find anything?” John wanted to know.

“Well, I wanted to ask you about the rock, leaned on a tree. Was that always there or did you move it when you were doing your search?”

“A rock?” Marcus and Mary said in unison.

“Yes, about the size of a person,” I explained. The three of them looked at each other.

“We definitely didn’t move no rocks as big as a human being,” Marcus said slowly and the other two nodded.

“It looked like it fell and was just left there.”

“Where did you find it?” John asked.

“At the scorched area. I didn’t move away from it much, I thought I would do that tomorrow.”

“Can you show me?” John got up and walked to the door, ready to put on his jacket.

“You want to go now?” Marcus seemed puzzled. “Yes, uncle. Charlie might’ve found something we’ve missed!” John turned to me, nodded and we were on our way.

“Okay, show me, Charlie,” John said a bit out of breath when we got back to the area where Asterin was found. He was so excited for me to have found something they might’ve missed that we half-ran to the forest.

“This one. Do you see the ground around it? It’s not like other rocks, where it’s evident that they have been in place for a very long time.” I pointed at the boulder and moved closer to it.

“Blimey,” John said under his breath. “I can’t believe we’ve missed this. I reckon we didn’t even see it. We probably thought it was like all the rest. But you are right, Charlie. It looks like it fell and from a great height at that!”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, not containing my excitement at all.

“So what’s your theory, Charlie?”

“I would need to write to my team to somehow do a health check-up for Asterin, before making any speculations. But my best guess would be that the rock fell off her.”

“You mean someone hit her with this bloody thing!” John gasped.

I nodded and asked if we could go back so that I could send a letter to Matthew as soon as possible.

“John, did Charlie find something?” Mary asked when we entered the house.

“Yes, I think so. He needs to write a letter to Romania. Can you bring him some paper and prepare Puff?”

“Yes, yes! Of course!” Mary hurried to the other room while John accompanied me to the kitchen.

“Charlie, if you make the connection, this might be the answer to everything!” He started biting his nails the second we sat down.

“I know.”

“Mary said to give you this!” Marcus rushed in with a quill and several pieces of parchment.

“Thank you.”

I dipped the quill into the ink and started writing as fast as my hand allowed me.

Matthew,

we have discovered a boulder in the area where Asterin was found. It looked like it fell from a great height. I speculate that Asterin was hit by it. If it was her back it would be broken, as would be her tail. The only part of her body that could endure such an injury without a broken bone is her head.

I know we said to wait longer with the check-up because we have no idea how to do it, but you have to try and put her to sleep so that the healers can take a look at her head. See if there is any chance that her behavior has to do with the damage a rock a size of a person could cause.

Send back the owl as soon as you can and good luck,

Charles

I put the letter in the envelope Mary brought along with the owl and send Puff on her way at once.

During supper, I explained my theory of what I think happened. I believe that Asterin escaped wherever she was imprisoned. Hebridean Blacks have a good sense of where to find a dragon of their breed. Her capturer followed her and when they saw how close to the reserve she has gotten they panicked and the only way they thought they could stop her was by hitting her with a big rock on the head.

They all looked at me in astonishment as if they couldn’t believe such a thing could happen.

“If I ever find the person who has done this to Asterin, I am murdering them with my own hands!” Marcus slammed his fists against the table.

“I…I can’t believe it. I don’t want to. Poor Asterin.” Mary had her hand over her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears.

“In a way, I hope Charlie is right.” Finally said John.

“John!” Mary scolded him.

“Well, if he’s right, it means that we will know what happened to her and perhaps Charlie can take a proper approach. It means we can help her, aunt Mary.” John explained himself.

“John is right, Mary. It’s not pretty but at least she might start trusting people.” Marcus looked at me.

I went to my room the second we were done with dinner. I wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible, hoping that in the morning I will receive an answer.

I was disappointed however when the owl didn’t return the next day or the two days after that.

On the fourth day of my visit, Hephaestus and I were best mates. It was wonderful to meet so many Hebridean Blacks and observe their personality. We only have one in the Sanctuary besides Asterin and he is quite old so I never had a chance to see one so lively and playful.

I liked working with John. He reminded me of myself in so many ways – especially how he likes to talk to dragons as if they were humans. I wish we could have more people like him in the Sanctuary so that I wouldn’t feel as if I am the most obsessed dragonologist in the world – then it would be two of us!

“Alright, Hephy, now roll over and then breathe fire away from us.” John gave the order to a 3-week-old Hebridean Black.

Hephaestus did as he was told and for his performance, he received a bucket of chicken blood and brandy.

“Go on, Charlie. Tell him to do a trick, he trusts you enough now.” John gave me a thumbs up and right when I stood up to walk closer to where the dragon was, I was distracted by Puff who was flying toward us.

“Thank you, Puff.” I breathed and gently took the envelope from her even though I wanted to burst from excitement. I tore it open and started reading.

Charles,

I apologize for taking so long to return the owl with our answer. You can imagine that it wasn’t easy putting Asterin to sleep. One of our potion masters made a large batch of Sleeping Draught. It was the only way to bring her down.

Three healers examined her. You were right, Charles. She had to hit her head with something. The damage on it can be hardly seen as if one side of the rock was flat but when we gathered researchers to examine her behavior when she woke up we realized that she suffered permanent damage to her brain.

There is no internal bleeding and her skull is fine but the impact with that boulder…

I don’t know how to better explain it, Charles – she thinks she’s still a dragonling. Even though she developed and she’s growing, in her mind, Asterin will always feel as if she is the age she was on the day they found her.

The healers can explain better as you return. I hope you can do something with the information, Charles. I know you are the only one who can.

See you soon,

Matthew

[themadlostgirl]

Abandoned (9)

*They’re making progress. Slowly but surely.”

~~~

I was confused when I woke up the next morning because I wasn’t on the beach in my little hut like I always was when I woke up. Then I remembered last night and how I had ended up in this treehouse. Peter was next to me. That wasn’t a big surprise but it eased my worries that he was still with me after yesterday.

A lot had been said last night. Secrets that we had both been harboring pulled into the light of day. I felt lighter now that I had shared with Peter the scars I carried. For so long I had been swimming with a cannonball strapped to my leg as I tried to paddle helplessly to shore. Now, it felt like that cannonball had come unshackled from my ankle and I could finally move forward. I wasn’t to shore yet but I had confidence that I wasn’t going to drown.

I wondered briefly if it felt the same for Peter. Obviously he’s been harboring this secret about his curse for a long time and has been trying to be brave in the face of his own death. This weight that he’s been carrying with him, literally watching his life tick away in a golden hourglass, that’s not something one can take lightly.

There was a small part of me that was kind of relieved to see Peter cry. I don’t like seeing him in tears but just knowing that this boy that I have looked at as indestructible and unflappable was capable of breaking down was a needed reminder that he was human. He may act like a demon but he is still a boy. He has emotions, whether he chooses to acknowledge them or not.

The time following that night in the treehouse stretched peacefully. Peter looked much more relieved to be free of the burden of bearing his secret alone. The only change he did show were the sad looks he passed to me any time we were alone together. I could blink and miss it with how quick they came and went but I still saw them all the same.

He looked at me as if his world was balancing on a frayed string. His hold on me got a little tighter and his words got softer. I figured it was his curse weighing on him but when he pulled away from me one night when things were getting frisky I saw that same sad look in his eyes and realized the truth.

It wasn’t his secret causing him this grief, it was mine. Before when Peter would sometimes allow the moment to heat up between us he doused almost as soon as it begun now. I know that he’s doing it so not to make me uncomfortable but it just made me feel unwanted at the end of the night. One such day we had gone out swimming together by this waterfall. We were having fun splashing around and exchanging a few kisses.

I teased him by sneaking up on him under the water and quickly poking him in the thigh or butt before swimming off. He was getting red in the face and cursed that I kept slipping away faster than he could grab me. Eventually he did catch me and held me tight to his chest to keep me from swimming away again. Laughter and squeals turned into deep kisses and happy giggles. I wrapped my legs around Peter’s waist to help keep myself in place while we made out.

While making out I felt something poke against me. For a few moments Peter was too grounded in his pleasure at the embrace he didn’t notice. Normally when he got an erection he immediately shied away from me and I was waiting for him to do it this time but he hadn’t. As subtly as I could I let myself grind against it a bit and felt a pleasurable jolt ripple up my spine. Peter must have felt it too cause he groaned against my mouth.

I was able to get away with going slowly for a while but when I started moving faster the lustful spell Peter was under broke and he finally fully realized what was going on. I had to keep my legs locked around him so he couldn’t shove me off.

“Peter,” I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me, “It is alright. I want to do this.”

“But--”

“I. Am. Enjoying. This.” I enunciated the words clearly. “You don’t have to be so worried about scaring me off.”

Peter sighed, “I’m sorry, swordfish. I just never wanted to overstep.”

“I’ll let you know if you do. But you need to stop keeping me at an arms distance.” I kissed his cheek, “You said that you would banish that bastard from my memory, right?”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Well, how can you replace all the bad memories he created if you won’t let us create new better ones?”

“You really trust me that much?”

“I trust you even more.”

“I love…” his gaze searched my face, “I love...I love that you trust me so much, swordfish.”

My heart sank a little at his words. I guess I had been hoping he would say something else in that moment. Then again, I don’t know how capable Peter Pan is of something as scary and committed as love.

I shrugged off the moment of disappointment and rested my head on his shoulder. “I trust you with my life, Peter. I always will.”

Peter spent the night sleeping next to me that evening. I cannot say for sure when the word love became something I wished to hear Peter say. Nor do I remember when I started wanting to say it to him. It came upon so gradually that I hadn’t even noticed until it was too late. My heart belonged solely to Peter and it terrified me. I was in love with him and I wanted nothing more than for him to love me too.

Peter was the first to fall asleep. I wasn’t surprised. He said he slept better next to me. I stayed awake listening to him breathe until his snores got deeper and I knew he was fast asleep. “I dreamt that you called me your love the other night. It made me so happy.” I whispered, “I hope that it’s true cause I love you too, my Peter.” I kissed his cheek. It felt good to say it out loud even if he didn’t truly hear me. Maybe it would trickle into his ears and he’d hear it in his dreams. Maybe he would remember and in the morning he would say he loved me too.

I had a dream that night. I was in a town slumped against a wall naked and cold and scared. There was no sign of life. Not from the tavern behind me nor anywhere else in the town. I ran to the pier trying to find a ship to board but all the docks were empty. I searched the sky for the star that could lead me home but clouds covered it.

No way out. Nowhere to run. I wanted to yell for Peter but no words left my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. The world was too cold. Where had Peter gone? Why was I here? Why had I been abandoned again? A pair of arms grabbed me from behind and pulled me into the chest of someone. A gruff voice whispered in my ear, “Kitten…”

I woke with a jolt breathing hard and shaking. When I closed my eyes I was thrust back into the dream and it only made me cry.

“Precious, what’s wrong?” Peter’s groggy morning voice reached out to me like a tether through the darkness. I reached for him and found his waiting arms. He rubbed my back in smooth motions and whispered words of comfort in my ear.

“I was back there,” I cried, “I was back in that town and I couldn’t get out. He found me...he found me and I couldn’t--”

“Hush now,” Peter whispered, pressing reassuring kisses to my temple. “That bastard can’t touch you. You’re on Neverland with me. You’re safe. I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you again, my pearl.”

My breathing evened out but I still clung onto Peter like a vice. Tears silently streamed down my face, unable to stop.

“Hey Lost Girl, are you awake yet? I have bananas if you want one.” A head ducked down to look inside my hut. Baelfire.

The three of us froze. I felt Peter tense next to me.

I could tell he wanted to jump up and grab Baelfire. This boy had been eluding him for so long and now he finally had him within his grasp. All he had to do was let me go. My grip on Peter slackened.

“Go away,” Peter muttered darkly.

I looked up confused. Peter stared daggers at Baelfire. “Don’t be stupid, Baelfire. Leave us.”

Baelfire turned and sprinted away. Peter sighed and pulled me closer. The question I wanted to ask sat waiting on my tongue but I was too stunned to say it. Peter looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Did you think I was gonna leave you, precious?”

I nodded dumbly.

“My pearl,” Peter rested his forehead against mine, “Don’t you know you’re more important than some stupid game?”

Fresh tears sprung to my eyes but they were of a different breed then they had been earlier. I was happy. Why was I crying if I was happy? Peter didn’t leave my side for the rest of the day. That night he felt the moment Baelfire escaped the island but didn’t say anything. He sighed and nuzzled his face more into my neck.

I didn’t ask him why he didn’t seem concerned that Baelfire had escaped considering how much he wanted to capture him in the first place. All I wanted to remember was that when Peter was faced with the choice of capturing Baelfire or staying by to comfort me he chose me. He told me I was more important.

Peter eventually did have to leave to go talk to the boys and tell them that Baelfire had managed to escape. He figured that it was news that would not go over well. He may not be able to see me until late tomorrow evening but if I needed him at all before then all I needed to do was call and he would be there.

It was lonely without Peter but I took the day away from him to go and talk to Tink. I hadn’t seen much of her since my relationship with Peter really started and I had missed talking to her. It would probably be healthy for me to talk to someone other than Peter. I could have pleasant enough chats with the Lost Boys and when Baelfire used to come around but they were all boys. Girls needed girls sometimes.

Tinkerbell was surprised to see but invited me in and talked to me all the same. We agreed we needed to spend more time together and I promised to come see her more often. Peter didn’t mind that I was hanging out with Tink more as my time with her gave him time to rally with the boys. The upside was that now that Peter and I were spending most of the day apart that meant that he almost always spent the night with me. Once evening fell Peter was all mine and I was all his. I preferred it that way.

It had been several weeks since Baelfire had escaped. Life on the island was as normal as it had ever been. Then one night Peter’s shadow returned. I hadn’t even noticed that the shadow was ferrying someone when I saw it shoot across the sky. The shadow was dark and the person it carried was pale. They almost looked like a shooting star streaking across the sky before they got closer and I was able to make out the shape of a human. It flew above me into the jungle before I could get a good look.

Peter also watched it go but shrugged it off saying he would make his greetings in the morning. Strangely enough though when morning came the boys had no news of a new boy in the island. No one had even seen the shadow drop someone off. Perhaps they were lost in the jungle. The boys scattered the island but came up with nothing. Whoever the shadow had brought they had disappeared into thin air.

This was more than alarming to Peter who didn’t like the idea that someone was loose on his island that he didn’t know. His days were spent with the boys as they combed the island again and again trying to find the escapee. I checked Baelfire’s old camp to see if the new guy had hunkered down there but it was as abandoned as the day Baelfire left it.

I went to visit Tink and told her about the strange happenings going on in the jungle.

“That is strange.” Tink shrugged, “And the boys have no idea where this person could be or even what they look like?”

“Not a clue. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?” I asked.

“Can’t say I do. All the Lost Boys look alike to me so if there is a new one running around I couldn’t say that I could recognize them.”

“The boys are all in a tizzy about it. This boy is really good at hide and seek and it is starting to piss Peter off to no end that he can’t figure out where they’re hiding. Understandable since it is his island and all.”

I set my cup of tea down and paced around the treehouse. “I mean, they have checked every nook and cranny of this island. Where in the world could they be?”

I plunked down on top of Tink’s big treasure chest.

“Eep!”

“What was that?” I asked, looking around the treehouse. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Tink said.

“I swear I heard something. Almost sounded like a wounded bird or something.” I strained my ears to see if I could hear it again. Tink had frozen in her seat. Her eyes were cast down into her cup.

I narrowed my gaze at her. Why was she acting skittish? I stood up and noticed her gaze flicker to the chest I had been sitting on. Hm…

I turned to the chest and lightly kicked the side of it. “Hey Tink,” I spoke calmly, “What is it you keep in his old chest of yours?”

“Just a bunch of junk. Some blankets, extra set of clothes, a few useless odds and ends.” She shrugged. “Nothing of interest.”

“Uh huh,” I reached for the lid, “You wouldn’t mind if I snooped would you?”

“I would actually,” She said, her eyes met mine, “It may be junk but it is personal junk.”

“All the more reason I want to take a peek.” I pulled the lid up.

“Don’t!” Tink jumped to her feet.

“Oh Tinkerbell, Tinkerbell, Tinkerbell,” I ripped the blanket away to reveal our hidden guest nestled tightly at the bottom of the chest. “I thought we were better friends than this.”

“Listen,” Tink tried to pull me away, “You don’t have to do this. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s your opinion.” I reached into the chest and pulled the figure in her white nightgown up to standing. “Hello again, Wendy Darling. You shouldn’t have come back here.”

“I’m here to rescue Baelfire!” Wendy ripped her arms from my grasp. “And I am not leaving without him!”

“Oh, did Tink not tell you?” I laughed, “Oh you poor, pretty thing. Baelfire escaped the island weeks ago. He’s not here.”

“No…” Wendy breathed out in horror, “No! You’re lying!”

“I am? Fine. Then let’s ask someone else. Oh Tinkerbell, is Baelfire still on Neverland? Be honest now.”

Tink met Wendy’s eyes with regret. She nodded. “He isn’t on Neverland. He managed to escape a long time ago.”

“Oh god…” Wendy was shaking, “If Baelfire isn’t here then--”

“Then you walked back into the open jaws of a lion voluntarily, Darling.” I pinched her cheeks. “No use trying to run or hide now. So how about you come quietly? I’m sure Peter would love to see you again.”

“Please, just send me home, I know you don’t like me. You don’t want me here. Just send me away again.”

“No. That’s too easy. Besides, I have no reason to be jealous or angry at you anymore. You’re just a blemish on my life now. Annoying but tolerable if I can’t see you.” I shoved her towards the rope ladder. “Now move.”

I brought Wendy back to the camp. She was silent the entire time. Resigned to whatever fate awaited her. Easy enough to say, the boys were surprised when I walked in with her. Peter most of all. He had truly not expected to see Wendy Darling again after he sent her away the first time.

“What to do, what to do?” Peter circled her. “My Lost Girl was right about not sending you home. That’s what you want. I cannot have you roaming about as you did before though. Ideas?”

“Just stuff her in a cage and be over with it.” Felix said. “What else is there to think about?”

“Too easy.” Peter said, “We need something unique for this equally interesting happenstance.”

“I have an idea!” I bounced on my heels as an idea started to take root in my mind.

“Speak it, spitfire. I’m interested in what you have to say about this.” Peter grinned, pulling me close to him.

“Well, if she wants to go home so bad then I saw we give her the opportunity.” I said.

“This isn’t the same scenario you proposed I do with Baelfire is it?” Peter asked, disdain clear on his face.

“Oh no, nothing like that.” I pulled him aside so Wendy couldn’t hear. “She will be our very own Sisyphus.”

“What?”

“It’s an old tale I remember hearing about. Sisyphus was some man that was cursed in the afterlife to constantly push a boulder up a hill. He was told that if he could push the boulder to the top of the hill then he could go free. But no matter what, every time he gets near the top the boulder rolls back down dooming him for eternity. We could do something similar with Wendy.”

“Stars you are perfect.” Peter grabbed me and kissed me hungrily. “What impossible task were you thinking?”

“Something simple enough to give her hope but maddening enough that she’ll never accomplish it. Like a jigsaw puzzle.”

“A puzzle?”

“A puzzle with a million different pieces that never actually seem to fit together. Tell her that if she can solve the puzzle then she can go home. If she doesn’t complete the puzzle within the day though it will reset and she’ll be forced to start all over again. It’ll keep her busy and out of the way until you have need of her.”

“I love that devious little mind of yours.” Peter kissed me once more. We strolled back over to the bound Wendy as Peter explained his terms. A spark of hope flickered in Wendy’s eyes and she readily agreed. She was taken to the Echo Caves to stay and Peter conjured the puzzle. I nabbed a piece and stuffed it in my pocket. A personal assurance that even if she somehow did ever get close she would never have an actual chance of completing it.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[lostinfantasyworlds]

A protective!Inudad drabble

I actually wrote this a couple weeks ago, but I was inspired to post it today because of all the amazing Inudad posts/headcannons/art that are going around. Specifically, this post by @littlepumkinseed , as well as this amazing fanart by @beanyboobee!

This is just a random quick oneshot I thought of, because we all know Inuyasha would be the overprotective “don’t touch my daughter or I’ll kill you” type of dad. I wondered what he would be like if Moroha and Hisui had to go on an extended demon-slaying mission alone. He’d probably be freaking out because of how well he knows Miroku and his lechery. But I also wanted to touch on Moroha’s reaction and the traits she inherited from her father. Plus I couldn’t help myself and threw in a tiny bit of Inukag fluff at the end.

This is canon-divergent from Yashahime because none of the families were ever separated and Moroha works with Hisui as a demon slayer.

I threw this together pretty quickly, so it might not have the best writing/editing/formatting etc. I’ve actually never posted anything I’ve written in any fandom before, but I felt like sharing this so here goes!

----------------------------

Kagome and Moroha bustled around their family hut, gathering last-minute herbs and food and double checking that Moroha had everything ready for her upcoming journey with Hisui. Inuyasha stood in the corner with his arms crossed and an irritated look on his face. He tapped his foot on the ground and looked up as Hisui entered the hut. 

“Good morning, Kagome, Inuyasha” he said cheerfully while nodding in their direction. “Ready to go, Moroha?” 

“Yup, just about!” She answered, throwing a few more items into her rucksack. 

Inuyasha watched from the corner, looking Hisui up and down. His best friend’s son was handsome, confident, and strong. He had known him since he was born, but that didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. Anyone taking his daughter away from him was automatically a threat. 

Moroha tied the strings of her rucksack and slung it over her shoulder. She rested her hand on her sword that was sheathed at her side. “Alright, I think I have everything. Let’s go!” She turned to her parents. “Bye mom and dad, we’ll be back in a few days or so! Love you!” 

Kagome hugged her daughter. “Love you too. Please be safe and look out for each other!”

Inuyasha couldn’t stand it, he had to say something. He emerged from the corner to stand in the middle of the hut. 

“Hang on a minute.”

Moroha and Hisui were already halfway out the door but stopped dead in their tracks at his commanding tone. Moroha turned around slowly and scowled at her father, seemingly already knowing what was coming. 

“Tell me exactly what it is you two are doing again?”

Moroha rolled her eyes. “I’ve already told you a million times, there is a remote village that requested our help with slaying a demon.”

“Uh-huh. And why is it that the two of you are going alone?” Inuyasha narrowed his eyes at them. 

“Because everyone else on our team is busy with other missions!” Moroha glared at her father. They had already been through this. 

“Is there a problem, Uncle Inuyasha?” Hisui asked innocently. 

Inuyasha addressed Hisui directly. “Don’t get me wrong, kid, I like you and all. I’ve known you since you were born. But let’s just say that I know your father pretty damn well too. I know how he can be...with women. I don’t know what kinds of things he might have taught you, but if you so much as think a single lecherous thought about my daughter, so help me I’ll...” He raised his claws in front of him in a menacing way. 

Kagome stepped in front of him and put her hands on Inuyasha’s chest. “Inuyasha, calm down! Miroku has gotten much better since he married Sango, you know that. They will be fine!”

Inuyasha looked around Kagome to continue glaring at Hisui. “Whatever. Just don’t try anything funny with her, got it? Or you’ll have me to answer to.” He cracked his knuckles to emphasize his point. Kagome rolled her eyes.

Moroha looked exasperated and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. “Dad! It’s not like that! Plus, you already know I can take care of myself.” She smiled slightly and rested her hand on the handle of her sword. 

“If he tries anything…” She unsheathed her sword and swung it around to rest flush against Hisui’s wrist in one swift motion. “...I’ll cut his hands clean off!” Hisui looked terrified, but Moroha just laughed gleefully and put her sword back in its sheath.

Inuyasha laughed too, feeling a little bit better. “Heh, that’s my girl!” He smiled and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, have fun you two...but not too much fun.” He shot one last glare at Hisui, who still looked a little freaked out by Moroha and Inuyasha laughing at the thought of cutting his hands off. 

“Oh and be careful fighting that demon,” Inuyasha added as an afterthought.

“Don’t worry so much, Dad, we’ll be fine,” Moroha said cheerfully. She stood on her tiptoes to give her father a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to leave with Hisui.

As they walked out of the hut, Kagome sighed and shook her head, her hands still lightly resting on her husband’s chest from her earlier attempt to keep him in line. 

He growled a little and asked, “What?”

“I just wish you hadn’t passed some of your more violent tendencies onto our daughter is all.” Kagome gave Inuyasha a look and his ears flattened slightly against his head. He knew he had maybe given her some bad habits, but he couldn’t help but be overprotective of his little girl. He was constantly battling with the urge to tear apart anyone who so much as looked at her wrong.

Kagome saw the guilt flash across his face and decided to ease up a bit. “But I guess I am glad that I don’t have to worry about her so much. She clearly knows how to take care of herself because of you. We’re pretty lucky to have you watching out for us all the time” Kagome smiled and imitated Moroha by standing on her tiptoes to kiss Inuyasha on the cheek.

Inuyasha blushed a little and wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her into his chest. Maybe I’m not always the perfect father, he thought, but at least I have two perfect girls in my life.

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 9)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar? 

Read these first    Prologue   Part 1    Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  Part 6  Part 7   Part 8 

**

Harry was fast asleep later the next morning, when someone came bursting through his bedroom door.

“Oi, wake up,” Gemma said, hitting her baby brother over the head with a pillow.

“The fuck?” He groaned, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”

“Gee, I was hoping for a warmer welcome than that,” she scoffed.

“Maybe there would have been if you didn’t just wack me over the head,” he said, throwing a pillow at her.

Gemma smirked, ducking out of the way and jumping onto the bed, “So, Mum told me you and Y/N have been getting pretty cozy these last few days.”

“I’m sure she has,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, the problem is you haven’t!” She scolded. “Here I am giving you advice to go shoot your shot and I’m the last to know it even worked.”

Harry looked up from his pillow at his sister, “Please. Never. Say that again.”

“I’m just using what all the cool kids are using these days,” she smirked.

“You’re not a cool kid, Gem. You never were,” he smirked.

“Fuck you,” she said, taking another pillow to his face.

“For fuck’s sake, will you stop,” he groaned, taking a pillow to her face.

“Remind me why I like having you two home again?” Anne smirked from the doorway.

“Because you love us,” Harry said.

“Only because I have to,” she said. “Anyway, Gem brought breakfast, it’s on the table.”

“Yeah, I figured it would be nice for Mum not to have to cook in her newly cleaned kitchen,” she said getting off the bed and following Anne down to the kitchen.  

Harry groaned getting out of bed and heading into the bathroom. He washed his face and brushed his teeth before going down to the kitchen, where his Mum and sister were already having their breakfast.

“Where’s Y/N?” Harry asked, looking out towards the backyard.

“Oh, she’s working on her book,” Gemma said. “I told her, you’d bring her some breakfast out.”

“Did you now?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I would have done it, but I figured you’d whine about no getting to see your girlfriend,” she joked.

“We’re not… she’s not my girlfriend… technically,” Harry sighed.

“Sooo, then what are you?” Gemma asked.

“They’re taking it slow, Gem. We don’t have to know every detail of their relationship,” Anne said, sipping on her tea.

Harry raised his eyebrow looking at his mother, “Excuse me? Pot meet kettle.”

“Oh hush!” She pointed at him. “I’m your mother, I have the right to ask questions.”

“And I’m his sister!” Gemma said.

“How about you’ll both find out when I find out,” he said grabbing two plates of food, “Gem it’s wonderful to see you, but I’m taking my breakfast with someone who doesn’t throw pillows at my head.”

“Again you deserved it,” she called out after him.

**

You were hard at work finishing yet another chapter in the last few hours. Your forehead wrinkled and your shoulders were on fire from your bad posture as you typed on your computer.

He caressed her face gazing into her eyes as if she was the only one in the room. A strand of her black hair had fallen into her face and he quickly pushed it out of the way.

“It appears we’re standing under the mistletoe,” he smirked.

“Well, then it’s only fair we keep up with tradition, right?” she smiled, closing the distance between them as she planted her lips against his.

He tasted of chocolate and peppermint, remnants of their shared hot chocolate only moments ago. Her hands found their way around his waist while his hands remained on the side of her chilled face.

“Want to head back to my place?” He whispered against her lips.

“Oooh,” Harry smirked over your shoulder causing you to jump up with a screech.

“What are you doing here?” You groaned, holding your chest. “And why are you reading over my shoulder.”

“Hey, I knocked on the door and said your name,” he defended. “You were completely zoned the fuck out, so I thought I’d see what had you so entranced.”

You rolled your eyes shutting your laptop and turning to face him, “Oooh is that breakfast sandwiches?”

“Yep. Gem brought them,” he said.

You quickly grabbed the bag of food and took out yours, shoving the bag back into his hands.

He laughed, “Why do I feel jealous over a breakfast sandwich right now?”

“Because you're needy,” you said with a mouthful.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he laughed. “But anyway… so I have a very serious question for you.”

“Oh god, what now?” You laughed.

“Soooo…. The story,” he said, looking over to your laptop. “You’re about to write a sex scene aren’t you.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you joked.

“Yeah. That’s why I asked,” he laughed, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes. “They’re about to go to his place and have mind blowing, Happy Christmas, I love you sex.”

“Well, I’m thoroughly intrigued, now,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“You would be,” you said. “And no before you ask, you can’t read it. You weren’t even supposed to read what you just did!”

“Aw, come on, Y/N!” He groaned. “It’s so good!”

“You’ll read it when it’s ready,” you said. “And it won’t be ready if you keep distracting me.”

“Well excuse the shit out of me,” he said. “Next time you can get your own breakfast sandwich.”

“Awe,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his shoulder. “You’re a good distraction though.”

“Let’s be honest, you’re only saying that because you want me to bring you breakfast sandwiches,” he said.

“Weelll, you’re not wrong,” you smirked.

**

Harry was in his room, messing around on his guitar, with an opened page in his journal. It had been a while since he had felt the urge to write a song, but since being with you, he’s found himself reaching for his journal to write. He was writing down a few lyrics when he felt someone standing in the doorway.

“Care to have a bit of a chat?” Gemma asked.

“Depends,” he said, putting his guitar down. “Are there going to be pillows involved?”

“Depends on if you’re being an ass,” she smirked.

Rolling his eyes he gestured for her to come in, “So, what shall we chat about?” He mocked.

“You and Y/N,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his.

“If you’re here for more details, I’m not going to tell you,” he said. “But I do have something to talk with you about.”

“Okay,” she said, turning to face him.

“Why didn’t you tell me Y/N came to one of my shows?” He sighed.

“Oh, she told you about that,” she winced.

“Yeah, she did,” he said. “I found that out the same night I found out she dated Graham.”

“Oh, you found out about that, too,” she sighed.

“You knew about that?” He asked.

“Y/N and I are friends, too,” she said.

“Is that why you lied to me?” He asked.

“I didn’t lie to you,” she said. “You didn’t know she was there.”

“Exactly!” He said. “And you knew I was with… why did you let her think…”

“Because I didn’t know your relationship was that serious,” she said. “The last I saw and heard from you was that you two were dating. That’s it. And I didn’t know Y/N was there for anything other than to reconcile with you. It was only after I saw the look on her face at seeing you that I realized everything.”

“Yet you didn’t feel the need to tell me?” He asked.

“What good would it have done? Would things have happened differently? Maybe. Would you have broken off your relationship? Like I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but honestly, Harry. What would you have done had I told you after the fact?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

“Exactly,” she said. “So, why even worry about something that you don’t even know what you would have done. The fact of the matter is, you and Y/N are figuring shit out now.”

He sighed, nodding running his hands through his hair.

“And I don’t know if she told you this, but the whole reason she was with Graham is because she ran into him a few days after your show,” she said. “He was there, he was comfortable, and she was trying to move on from you, but it obviously didn’t work because you’re it for her and she’s it for you.”

**

“Hold up, where are you going?” Harry asked, when you walked into the kitchen with your coat on.

“Oh, Gem didn’t tell you?” You asked. “Your Mum, Gem, and I are heading over to my Mum’s for a girl’s night.”

Harry scoffed, “And I’m just here to fend for myself.”

“You’re a grown man,” Gemma said, walking in on the conversation.

“A needy, grown man,” you clarified.

“Again you say it like it's a bad thing,” he said.

“Anyway, look on the bright side, you have the house to yourself for a few hours,” you smirked.

“This is very true, so when are you leaving exactly?” He asked.

“Now,” you said. “I’ll stop in to say goodnight when we get back, unless you’re snoring.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that because I don’t snore,” he said.

“Yeah, you do,” you nodded.

“Anyway, sorry to break up this whole love fest thing, but Mum’s in the car already,” Gemma said.

“Okay,” you said. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Harry wrapped his arms around you, giving you a quick peck on the lips before saying goodbye. Once he made sure you were gone, he made his way out to the writing hut. He knew he shouldn’t be doing what he was about to do, but he had an idea that he needed help with.

The door was unlocked, so he opened it and went inside. Your laptop was still on the desk and he opened it up. Luckily, you left the last document opened and he scrolled up to exactly where he needed to be. He skimmed through what you had been working on that day, paying attention to details and making mental notes.

Now, it was time to start putting his plan into action.

**

What do you think Harry has up his sleeve? 

Let me know your thoughts! 

[cryinggarbagebag]

Inner Peace- Obi wan Kenobi

a/n: if you see this could you please comment something :(

pairings: Obi wan x padawan! reader

warnings: none just fluff

synopsis: what happens when obi wan senses something the matter with you?

.-.

"you must focus y/n" you heard your master say as he paced the floor.

"but master I cant" you complained.

"you can, you just need to calm your mind. try again." he responded.

you sighed and closed your eyes again, trying to focus on pure nothingness but for some reason you kept seeing a pair of eyes that were all too familiar.

after a minute you cursed under your breath and opened your eyes, "master it's impossible!"

he hummed in annoyance and asked, "what could possibly be stopping you from doing a simple meditation?"

his words were harsh, but there just didn't seem to be any other way with you. no matter what you did, it was never right for him. after Anakin died and the Jedi basically disappeared you had begged obi wan to stay as your master, but there was just not enough good in the Jedi any more. it was evident in how you acted and the evil poisoned your veins.

"I keep seeing Anakin master" you confessed, tucking your knees to your chest.

he sighed again but this time he gave you a sympathetic look.

"I know it's hard for you y/n" he said, kneeling in front of you, "but you need to try and erase him from you mind".

"I don't think I can. he was my best friend master."

"I know" Obi wan said. he was silent for a moment and you felt sadness radiate off of him. "you know what? training is over. go get some rest"

"thank you master" you said and slowly stood up, you legs hurt from sitting all day. then you made your way to the door, "goodnight".

"goodnight y/n" he said and offered you a kind smile. you smiled back before leaving the room and heading to your room.

Obi wan and you had inhabited an adequate sized hut on tatooine after the fall of the Jedi. it was secluded and perfect for two people. your rooms were separated by a courtyard which also hosted as a cooking area. your bedrooms were as bland as the sand that covered the planet, only holding a bed, a dresser and a small mirror on your wall. there was also a bathroom that wasn't decorated either. you missed your home on coruscant, the small apartment you lived in had been so much brighter and lively. you missed hearing the buzz of ships and staying up late with Anakin, reading Jedi texts or just being silly. telling jokes until you choked from laughter. you missed him dearly, he had been your first and only friend in the Jedi academy and he was basically your brother. Anakin was a few years older than you and he protected you from everything. that night there was no more protection. not from him anyways.

as you changed in to your night clothes, images of that night played in the back of you mind. waking up in your dark room and feeling something entirely bad bottled up in the building. running past Jedi who were trying to escape, padme calling for Anakin, eventually you found him standing at the end of the hallway as if he had been waiting for you. his lightsaber lit up his face in the dark.

"you don't have to do this Anakin!" you had called but it was too late, he had ran to you with his saber in a defensive position, and right before it hits you, it flew from his hands and turned off. Obi wan stood on the other side of you with his saber. Anakin turned from you and ran down the opposite hallway.

you went to bed on autopilot, not really paying attention because of the daydream you were having.

"are you alright?" obi wan had asked you in a panicked voice. you only nodded and tried to hide how horrified you were.

"go with padme. keep her safe" he told you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"of course master" you said in a shakey voice. he started down twords where Anakin had gone but before he could disappear you called to him, "Obi wan!"

he turned around, shocked to hear his name out of your mouth, "y/n?"

your eyes had welled up with tears, "don't let him kill you".

don't let him kill you. it was a strange request. should you have said the opposite? Anakin was closer to you than Obi wan, and Anakin was the one in trouble. maybe deep down in your heart you knew he was too far gone..

"I won't".

there was a knock at your door and you snapped out of your daydream.

"what?" you asked, your voice was dry from breathing hard.

"are you alright?" you heard him say through the door.

"yes? are you?" you lied.

"I know that's not true, may I come in?" he asked politely.

"yes" you said and unlocked the door with the force. he slowly opened the door and took a seat at the edge of your bed. his blue eyes were illuminated by the moonlight.

"tell me what's wrong" he said softly. you sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard. it was silent for a moment before you looked down at you hands.

"I can't stop thinking about him" you mumbled. "I know we weren't supposed to be attached to anyone but I loved him"

tears started to blur your vision as you rambled, "he was my brother and when he died I wanted to kill myself Obi. I don't know what to do... maybe I wasn't ment to be a jedi"

his eyes widened at your words. Obi wan had never seen you look so completely helpless. he wanted to hold you and assure you that everything would be ok.

"y/n" he started, "I'm so sorry you feel this way. I know I've been harsh to you recently and I want to make it better. don't ever think you're not good enough, you're here for a reason. I know losing him was hard, I loved him aswell." he swallowed thickly, trying to keep a calm aura. "but I know that wasn't him. it was an evil one cannot control, and I know that if he were here today you would be happy and nothing would be the matter"

Obi wan choked on his words when he saw your broken face. he reached out and grasped your hands, "please y/n, don't keep it to yourself. you were made for greatness I know. what can I do to help?"

you let out a shakey breath as tears fell on to your lap. you didn't want to cry in front of your master. it was embarrassing to be crying like a child. but he didn't say anything so you continued to let out silent tears. your head hung low and your shoulders shaked lightly.

"y/n" he mumbled, almost silently.

you looked up at him, sniffing lightly.

"do you need anything?" he asked, "absolutely anything?"

you wanted him to hold you. it was wrong to find this comfort in your master and you knew that if you asked we would probably revert back to his old ways. he somehow sensed it from your silence because he scooted closer to you and pulled you into his arms. you choked out a sob into his shoulder, feeling an overwhelming feeling of something you couldn't describe. it was a warm feeling, that spread throughout your body. you clung onto each other and soaked in the warmth. he ran his thumb up and down your back. after a moment you slowly pulled away and looked up at him. he wiped the tears from your eyes and smiled timidly.

"thank you" you mumbled.

"of course" he said, but his hand lingered on your face. you subconsciously leaned into his touch. your arms were still loosely draped on his shoulders and you realized how intimate the position was. neither of you pulled away though, instead you noticed his gaze travel to your lips, something unreadable was behind his eyes. Obi wan looked back up at you before slowly leaning in. you could feel his breath on your lips and you closed your eyes.

suddenly you felt your lips touch softly. he cupped your face and his beard tickled against your skin. you had to turn your head slightly to completely capture his lips. it was as if he was kissing away all your pain and anxiety because suddenly you felt the warmth again, but this time it was more powerful.

that is until he pulled away. Obi wans forehead pressed against yours and he huffed lightly.

"what?" you asked quietly.

"nothing" he said with a smile. you smiled too and kissed him shortly. he let out a surprised noise when you pulled away.

"better now?" he asked.

"I think so" you nodded and fully pulled away. he smiled and went to get up.

"wait" you mumbled, "you can't leave now". you pouted lightly.

"and why not?" he joked.

"what if the nightmares come back" you matched his tone.

he thought for a moment, "hmm that's a good point" he said and sat back down. you scooted over for him and he laid beside you.

"thank you" you said.

"of course" he smiled again and tucked you into him.

and the nightmares never returned.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Misconception

John Murphy x Emori

Summary: In the aftermath of the last war Emori and John become a family of three.

Warnings: Possible spoilers for the 100 season 7, mentions of child birth.

Earth is nice. A bit different than any of them remember. Quiet, more serene; just the remaining members of the human race and the ocean, for the rest of forever.

The food is much nicer than algae, the ground vaster than the expanse of the tin can they’d called home for six years.

Yet not as luxurious as the castle they’d occupied in Sactum. But this is home, this is where they put roots down. This is where they’re going to live.

It’s been about three months, since judgement day. Death, transcendence, and everything in between.

Emori still loves catching her fish, proudly displaying them to anyone within shouting distance.

Her body is beginning to fill out, just the slightest bit. In a way that assures John she’s not hungry. She’s happy, and healthy, and wants for nothing.

Days are spent with friends, that have become family. Nights are reserved for themselves, more often than not, ending up a spent pile of limbs on their makeshift mattress.

“John?” Emori mumbles, still basking in the after glow of their love making. “Are you sleeping?”

“Emori, I love you,” Murphy sighs, bonelessly curled around her back, “but I’m gonna need a few more minutes before I’m good to go again.”

“Not that,” Emori huffs a laugh.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, toying with the fingers of her badass hand.

“If something happens to me-“

“Nothing’s gonna happen.” John says, reassuring himself as well. Emori is fine, she will be fine.

“I need to know that you won’t try to-“

“Hey,” John stops her a second time. “Baby, nothing is happening to you.“

Emori pauses, then forces the words past her lips. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Deafening silence.

Murphy clears his throat. “Jackson knows?”

“Confirmed it this morning.” She nods, staring down at her hands.

“We have Sanctum.” He reasons, “all the medicine there.”

“We do.”

“Then we’ll...figure the rest out.”

“Is this alright, John?” Emori asks, with bated breath.

“All those years on the ring, when we were playing primes; the timing was bad. Always a war to fight, people to save. Now, all we have is time.” He pauses, hoping the right words will come. “I don’t love the idea of sharing you, but if it’s with our kid, you won’t catch me complaining. What I should be asking, is if this is alright with you?”

Emori allows the corners of her mouth to curl into a smile. “I want this baby, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

John takes a steadying breath, placing a hand over the barely there bump. “You and this baby will have everything you want.” He kisses her shoulder, speaking directly against her skin. “I promise.”

“You’re what I want.” Emori whispers, resting her hand over his.

———————————————————

Emori is well on her way to the second trimester; but the nausea still gets the best of her on occasion. Causing her to just miss Raven’s shoes, as she purges the contents of her lunch onto the sand.

“You feeling alright?” Raven asks, immediately. “Should I get Murphy?”

“No, I’m fine.” Emori insists, with a shake of her head.

“That’s the second time this week.” Raven is not so easily convinced. “Jackson should check you out.”

“Jackson has,” Emori purses her lips. “Nothing to be concerned about. I’ll survive a little morning sickness, even if it does last past morning.”

“You’re-“ The mechanic breaks off. “You and Murphy? How?”

“After years of walking in on us, you know how.” Emori rolls her, brown, eyes.

“Well, congratulations. Right?” Raven claps Emori’s back, lightly.

Congratulations...yes, that’s right. “Thank you.”

“How far along?” The brunette leans in, with renewed interest.

“Almost three months.” Emori tells her.

“Have you thought about names yet? Because I think Raven could be unisex.”

Emori let’s out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to mention it to John,” she teases. “But I think you’ll be our only Raven.”

“It was worth a shot.” The woman shrugs. “Hey, do you want to see what I’ve been working on?”

“No nuclear reactor or toxic radiation involved?”

“Why would you think that?” Raven snarks.

“Then yes,” Emori agrees, “I’d love to.”

————————————————————

“Hey,” John greets his love, when she enters their hut. “Good day?”

“Raven and I are working on a pipe system that will pull drinking water from the valley. We’ll be able to get it from a tap.” Emori grins, a bit of pep in her step, as she comes to lie beside him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Exciting.” Murphy deadpans, leaning into her warmth.

“It means actual showers, John.” Emori stares down at him, propped up on one elbow. “No need for the lake or running back to Sactum.”

“I thought you liked sneaking off to Sanctum.” Murphy nuzzles the underside of her jaw.

“I miss Kaylee’s bed.”

“Maybe Raven can build you one of those.” He jest, crossing both legs at the ankle.

“Speaking of Raven,” Emori trails off. “She suggests that the baby should also be named Raven. I told her I’d run it by you.”

“Yeah...” Murphy narrows his eyes, “not gonna happen.”

“I don’t think we should name this baby after anyone, living or dead.” Emori admits. “Bringing honor to the people we’ve lost is much bigger than that. With this baby, we start over.”

“I want that too, Em; to start over.” John whispers, there are so many things he would do differently now. “Do you have any actual names in mind, for our bundle of joy?”

“Not yet.”

“We’ll come up with something.” They’ve got time. “If not, hey you, should be sufficient.”

“Very funny.” Emori frowns, feeling her stomach turn.

“You ok?” John takes her face in his hands.

“A little nauseous, it’ll pass.”

“Be nice to your mother.” Murphy insists, attention now directed at Emori’s belly. “I’d like to keep her around.”

————————————————————-

Days turn into weeks, Emori’s bump grows. There is no hiding it now, even if she wanted to. The others have been very supportive, offering their babysitting services, when the time comes.

Emori flips back the flap of their shelter, waddling over to their bed and flopping down, without a word.

“Rough day?” Murphy asks, coming to sit beside her.

Emori offers a groan, in response.

“Should I massage your feet or something?”

“Or something,” she grumbles, “my back hurts.”

“Say no more.” John eases skilled fingers over the skin of her back. Applying slight pressure to the tense muscles. “One back rub coming right up.”

Emori sighs, relaxing into his touch.

“We should revisit names. Hey you, could make their big debut anytime now.” He murmurs, their child responds to his voice, with a swift kick.

“What are you thinking?” Emori wonders, resting her hand against the fluttering life in her abdomen.

“Odessa.” If she hates it, back to the drawing board.

“It’s beautiful...” Her voice catches in her throat. Saying things aloud makes them real, names make them real. “Are you hoping for a girl?”

“I’m hoping for a healthy baby, and a healthy you.” John annunciates each word for emphasis.

Emori nods, knowing better than to press the issue. “Now we need something for a boy.”

“Lady’s choice.” He kisses the back of her neck.

“Kai?” It’s different and unique, just like their child will be.

“It’s got a ring to it.”

————————————————————-

“John!”

The sound of Emori’s frazzled cry has Murphy chucking his dinner plate aside. Racing for the tree line, where he finds her, perched on a log. One foot bare and elevated off the sand.

He kneels down, taking the raised leg into his lap. “What’s wrong?” John asks, unable to spot an obvious problem. “Did you trip? Something bite you?”

“My shoe fell off and I can’t reach.” Emori informs him, crossing both arms over her chest.

Relieved, he chuckles, “that’s adorable.”

“It’s not.” Emori scowls, “I hate it. Now get the shoe.”

“Oh come on, this is the home stretch. Might as well try to enjoy it.” John will miss her belly brimming with new life. The promise of a future he wasn’t sure they’d have.

“Would you enjoy not being able to see your toes?” Emori snaps. She will do anything for her child, but she misses her independence.

“There are worse things,” he shrugs, bending down to retrieve the shoe. “Besides, I’m more than happy to help.”

“Thank you,” Emori fights back a smile. Watching him complete the task, with a brisk kiss to her lips.

————————————————————

Emori’s pained groan wakes John, from a dead sleep.

“‘Mori?” He grumbles, rubbing at tired eyes.

“Don’t panic,” Emori says, curling in on herself. “I’m having contractions.”

“Yeah?” He springs into action. No false alarm this time. “How far apart?”

“Not far enough.” She attempts to lighten the mood.

“We need to wake up Jackson, and get you to Sanctum. Can you walk?”

“I can try.” She nods, through gritted teeth.

“Never mind, I’ve got you.” Murphy sighs, lifting Emori carefully into his arms.

“Before we go...” Emori stalls, knowing he won’t like what she has to say. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Talking can wait, this can’t.” Murphy replies, moving quickly toward the doctor’s tent.

“If things don’t go as planned and it’s a choice, between me and the baby; you choose the baby. You choose the baby over me, you choose this baby over everyone.”

“Emori, we’re not doing this now.” He shakes his head.

“Promise me, John.” Emori feels tears burning at the back of her eyes, but makes no effort to fight them.

“Emori-“

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.“

“I won’t let anything happen to either of you.” This is the time that everything goes to plan. This is the time it has to.

“Promise me.” Emori’s voice is hoarse, as another contraction seizes her muscles.

“I promise.” He promises that neither of them are going anywhere. Losing Emori once was bad enough.

————————————————————-

They’re back in the operation room, the same one where John lost the love of his life. The equipment is here, poised and ready to go. It only makes sense for it to be here. Fate is cruel that way.

“Alright, Emori,” Jackson touches her knee. “You’re a full ten centimeters. When you feel the next contraction, I want you to push.”

John doesn’t miss the nervous tremor of her bottom lip. “You and me,” he reminds her. ”We’re doing this together.”

“I love you, John.” Emori smiles, through the pain. Then taking a deep breath in, she bears down.

“I love you too.” Murphy whispers, squeezing her hand tightly. Although it kills him to see Emori in pain, John remains calm and focused. This time it’s for something, this time she isn’t dying. “Good job, baby.”

They continue on like this, until her limbs are heavy with exertion, and his hand has lost all feeling.

The exasperated sound that leaves Emori’s lips, with a puff of air, is bearable. The tortured whimper that follows makes John wish he could do it for her.

“Emori, you’re doing great.” Jackson assures her. Stealing a glance at the beeping monitors beside the bed. “But I’m starting to see signs of fetal distress.”

“What’s that mean?” Murphy demands.

“It means we’ve gotta move this baby.” Jackson confirms both of their fears.

“I’m trying,” Emori says.

“What if she can’t?” John asks, watching fear and defeat paint her features.

“Then the only option would be a cesarean section.” None of them want that. But they have the equipment, he has the experience.

“Look, no offense, but we all remember what happened the last time you pulled something out of her.”

“This is different.” Jackson reminds him, “no internal damage.”

“We’ve been at this for hours, maybe Jackson’s right,” Emori agrees. Anything for this baby.

“I know you’re tired. But I need you to finish strong. Our baby needs you to finish strong. When the next contraction comes, you’re gonna push like hell, and we’re gonna have this baby.” Murphy insists, helping her lean up, so that he can climb onto the table behind her, for support. Her back now resting against his chest, with his legs bracketing hers.

“Ok,” Emori nods, adjusting her grip on John’s hands. “But if it doesn’t work-“

“It will work.” It has to. John rests his cheek against hers. Feeling Emori’s body begin to tense with the next contraction. “3,2,1, go.”

Through gritted teeth, Emori finally manages to move the stubborn baby down. Of all the birthing positions they’ve tried, this one finally seems to help a bit.

“Here comes the head,” Jackson announces.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Emori.” John kisses her sweat damp temple, her head clunking back onto his shoulder. “Deep breath, do it again.”

The scream that follows could raise the dead, full fear and desperation and then-

A second voice joins hers, much smaller and higher in pitch. A baby, their baby. Announcing it’s arrival to the world.

“Hey, you’re done.” Murphy says, grounding her to reality. “You did it.”

“I did it,” she smiles, peeling her eyes open.

Jackson places the wailing child on her chest.

Still covered in dark blood, she is the most perfect, wonderful, thing either of them have ever seen.

“Hi baby,” Emori let’s tears fall freely, “my baby.”

“Get a load of you, beautiful.” Murphy whispers to the infant. Her tiny eyes are open wide, trying to focus on the sound. “Welcome to the world.”

“She’s got your eyes.” Emori would recognize that color blue anywhere.

“You ok?” John asks, noticing how lax she’s become.

“Fine.” Emori assures him. “Tired, but fine.”

“Everything alright down there, doc?” He calls to Jackson.

“Everything’s good.” The doctor is all smiles. “Once she delivers the placenta, I’ll stitch her up and we’re all clear.”

Both their heads snap toward him.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got anesthetic this time.” Jackson clarifies.

Relieved Emori sinks back into John, humming to the newborn, who is beginning to stur.

————————————————————-

The sleepless nights are endless. Leaving the first time parents worried that maybe they aren’t cut out for this. Maybe they aren’t doing enough. But after a few weeks, they fall into a routine.

Odessa is a happy baby, with her father’s eyes and a head full of chestnut curls. She resembles Emori for the most part, which pleases John to no end. The little girl has everyone wrapped around the tiny fingers of her badass hand.

“Did you teach her to fish yet?” John calls, spotting Emori at the shoreline. Holding their daughter to face the waves, basking in the orange glow of the setting sun. “She’s gotta start pulling her weight around here,” he jests. Closing the distance between them, to caress Odessa’s chubby cheek.

“She might be a little young to cast a net.” Emori laughs, feeling John press a kiss to her head. “But she’ll learn.”

The eleven month old kicks her legs, reaching out for her father. “Dada.”

“She wants you.” Emori takes a step toward him.

“Not your finest decision, kid.” He mutters, under his breath. Taking the little girl into his arms. “I’d much rather be held by your mother.”

Emori smiles at the scene before her. Their daughter latches onto Murphy’s nose, with her right hand. “Fatherhood suits you, John.”

“I don’t know about all that.” The only thing that he knows for sure, is that he can’t mess up. He can’t mess her up.

“I do.” Emori assures him.

Murphy stares at his wife, with nothing but adoration and wonder; their child in his arms. “We should do this again sometime.” He nods toward Odessa.

“Funny,” Emori raises her brows. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Misconception taglist: @arcticaid @camilahopper05 @silver-gold-copper

[mithrilwren]

lilac, star, and thrush

For @beauyasha-week 2020! I’m a day late, but this is a fill for the “Flowers” prompt. Fun fact - the first thing I ever wrote for this fandom was a beauyasha fic called Body Speak, way back before episode 48 had even aired! I haven’t written another fic for them since then, but when I saw that this week was going on, I felt like it was finally time to get back to my roots :)

[Also on Ao3!]

“You can stop looking.”

Yasha pauses, her fingers still tangled in damp weeds. From her crouch, she looks at Beau, but their eyes don’t meet. Beau is staring up at the sky, one that drizzles a sodden grey - lacking even the comfort of thunder, to make up for the dreary weather.

“Why?”

“Flowers don’t grow in this fucking town.”

---

They have less than a day in Kamordah, all told: an evening of anger and bad memories come to life, a night in a rundown inn, and a plan to leave in the morning. It’s not enough.

So, for the first time in a long time, Yasha picks up her things in the middle of the night, and leaves without a word.

The narrow alleys surrounding the inn lead to broken-down streets, paved with cracked earth and mud and little else worth speaking of, lined with equally broken-down houses. The air is hot - sulphuric - hard to breathe - and Yasha walks, and there’s no one awake to bother her, or who dares to approach when they spy her looming shadow in the dark. Either possibility is fine, so long as she’s left alone.

At night, all things are grey to Yasha’s eyes, but even the sun would not have brightened the vacant colours of the town. Scrub brush and weeds, sorry attempts at garden boxes in the windows of little homes, roots that died for lack of light to feed them: all are painted grey in the mist of the perpetual rain, and in the belch of geysers, breaking the soil and spewing their poisoned fog into the air.

Beau was right. No flowers grow in Kamordah. But she searches anyway, until she can search no more. Then Yasha slips back into the space between Jester and Beau, before the light of day can betray her absence to more human eyes.

---

The first spot of colour comes as they pass through the outskirts of town. Yasha catches a splash of violet among the dirt and brambles, and without pausing for thought, she leaps to the ground, and darts to the side of the road. One by one, horses whinny at her back as each of the Nein turn and halt, noticing her absence. Yasha digs her hands into the thorny brush, and though her fingers are soon marred with scrapes and cuts, not a single drop of blood spills onto the petals of the flower she plucks.

It’s a bluebell: shriveled and sickly, but miraculously clinging to life.

Yasha sits crosslegged, right in the centre of the road, and pulls out her book.

“Well, what do you know.”

There’s Beau. She stares at the flower over Yasha’s shoulder. No light in her eyes. No wonder or astonishment in her voice.

If anything, she sounds... angry.

“You really going to keep that one?”

“Yes,” Yasha says, and carefully tucks the withered petals between two pages.

Beau scoffs, face already turned away. “We should get a move on.”

And they do, and Yasha watches Beau all the while, wondering, and wondering, but without the courage to ask the question on her tongue.

---

Yasha wakes to the sound of snuffling. She cracks her eyes open as her hand moves to the sword at her side. It doesn’t sound like the groans of the husks, or the cackle of a witch’s rage, but they’re still so close to Isharnai’s hut. Who knows what kind of spies she might have sent after them, if Jester’s magic didn’t hold.

But all Yasha sees against the dim orange glow of the bubble is one solitary shadow, bent in on itself, and quaking.

Beau.

Yasha sits up slowly, then crawls over Fjord and Caleb, and nearly puts a hand in Jester’s hair, but she makes it to the space behind Beau without waking any of the others. At the last moment, Yasha grinds her palm into the dirt, and lets out a sharp breath: enough to make her presence known. The body in front of her sits up. A hand furiously scrubs across its face. Yasha waits until the hand is lowered again before she settles down at Beau’s side.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Beau says, husky and cracked, as broken as the streets of her hometown. Yasha shakes her head.

“You?”

“Someone’s got to keep watch.”

They don’t, she wants to say, we’re safe in here, but even if that’s true, it doesn’t feel like it. So she says nothing, and waits for Beau to speak again.

“How long have you been awake?”

There’s another question lingering beneath: how much did you hear?

“Not long,” Yasha says. Too much, she thinks.

“Good,” says Beau. “Good.”

Don’t do that again. Fjord spoke to her tonight, tried to convince her to stay.

Don’t go. Caleb, too. He’d said his piece.

And Yasha had said nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

She isn’t a good person, or a brave one. But why can’t she at least do that much?

What does she have left to lose?

It’s a swampland, but even here, there’s some life. Yasha plucks a reed from rushes at her feet. Pussywillow. She twirls it between her fingers, and says… nothing.

“You going to press that one too?”

“No,” Yasha answers. She can speak, it seems, but only when spoken to.

“...Why did you bother with that stupid flower?” Beau’s voice grows angry again. Yasha doesn’t think the vitriol is really meant for her. “I know you like collecting them, but that one was a piece of shit. You could have waited a day. There were a bunch of better ones in the mountains.”

Her answer is simple, and true. “I wanted that one.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to remember where we were, when I found it.”

“What… Kamordah?” Beau laughs harshly. “Why would you want to remember that shithole? Hell, I grew up there and I don’t want to remember it.”

She gives more honesty than she could usually bear. What else is there left to do? “Because it’s where you came from.”

“So?” Anger, again. Yasha has never wanted to make Beau angry, but it’s better than being left with only despair in her eyes: once lively and bright, now dead-

In her dreams, always dead-

“I don’t want to be remembered for that place. I don’t want that place, that fucking town to have anything to do with me. I don’t want-”

Beau sucks in a breath.

Maybe she forgets that Yasha’s eyes aren’t human - that she can see in the darkest night, and can see what’s happening. Maybe Beau just can’t help the tears, now they’ve started. Maybe-

Maybe-

(When Yasha was with Obann, her tears were the only thing left that still felt like her own thoughts. Now that she’s herself again, the tears don’t come. She’s not sure they ever will again.)

“Did I ever tell you, why I collect flowers?”

Beau swallows, but shakes her head. Not a sound, even as the tears continue to fall. It doesn’t seem right, that she should be so quiet, with so much grief still held inside. Yasha would have screamed her pain to the sky, until the clouds broke and the lightning stole the rage within her chest.

That is, if Beau had been allowed to scream. Thoreau seemed to prefer pain of the silent kind.

“I want to bring them to my wife’s grave. I want to show them to her, one by one, and say what they mean to me. All the things we couldn’t share in life, I want to share with her now. Every beautiful thing-”

Yasha takes in a breath.

“Every beautiful thing, Beau. I want to share them all.”

She can’t tell if Beau hears her, but she can’t say it plainer. She doesn’t have the words to even try.

But she tries. She tries.

“I want to tell her how brave you were. How you stood in front of your father and told him he was wrong. How you went back to your home, even though it terrified you, because Nott needed you and you would never let her down. How you told me no flowers grow in Kamordah, but one did. One still did, and I-”

Beau’s hand shoots out and grabs Yasha’s wrist, squeezing so tight the bones shift beneath her skin.

“I want you to come with me, so she can see that I- that I’m not alone. That she doesn’t have to worry about me. Because I have you, Beau. I have you, and the others, and even when I want to give up I can’t let myself, because I still have to tell her-”

Yasha’s words fail, and just like in battle, whenever she falters, Beau finds her strength again.

“Tell her what?”

It’s a whisper, but it’s there.

“Tell her what, Yasha?”

How much longer can she wait? She’s already lost herself once. She might never make it to Zuala’s grave.

When will she ever speak, if not now?

“How beautiful you are.”

The chattering of the wind grows silent, still as the breath on Yasha’s cheek. The fingers around her wrist slip away.

Beau is leaving. Pulling away. If she goes now, she may never come back, and Yasha can’t be the reason. She can’t.

So she says what she couldn’t bring herself to say before, in front of the others. She says what she means, and nothing more.

“Stay.”

The head that falls onto her shoulder is heavy with the weight of exhaustion, and so much more, and Yasha holds her own head high for a lingering moment, before letting it come to rest on the soft hair below.

“I’m not going anywhere, Yash.”

Yasha closes her eyes, relief burning as bright on the question on her tongue, now answered.

Are you alright?

No. But I will be. I will be.

Someday soon, I’ll be alright again.

[mimiswitchywrites]

Not A Burden: Chapter 4

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering)

Masterlist or Read on AO3

2.3k words

---------

Gaius watched as the young girl shuffled in her sleep. She had tears trailing down her cheeks and was sweating profusely. He soaked the cloth again, pressing it against her head, cheeks and chest, and prayed to whatever was out there that the poor girl would be okay. He was well versed in the world of nightmares – his years caring for Morgana has assured that – but rarely had he seen someone with ones such as this.

The only time, he thought, was Charlie. He had returned from enemy territory a changed man. He could hardly keep his eyes closed longer than a minute before seeing the atrocities he had faces in their dungeons. The poor man ended up with a case of hysteria and walked off one day with only the clothes on his back, and never returned. Now, with more knowledge, Gaius hoped he could treat her before she ended that way.

Her right arm was healing nicely – scabbing over – but her left was in far from ideal condition. Arthur had reported that she had hit it on his chest plate at some point, and others had mentioned her picking at the wraps which seemed to amount to a slight infection. She had lost too much blood before being able to rest properly and the fact that she hadn’t collapsed into a sweating mess earlier truly impressed the aged physician. She was weak, both mentally and physically, and there was little he could do.

He dabbed her skin with the cloth again.

--

The candles in the tavern were burning low and with it came Gwaine’s high. He had drowned himself in ale, mead, cider and wine as soon as he had returned home (whether home was Camelot or The Rising Sun was still up for debate) and, even after two days, he showed no sign of stopping. At first, the other knights – both those of the Round Table and not – had joined him. Many a game of dice and cards were played, but eventually they left.

They always will. Another gulp of whatever was in his tankard, he’d lost track.

He traced the patterns on the table with his finger (fingers? He couldn’t tell how many were really there anymore) and felt his eyes growing heavy. He found a face in the wood, with thin lips and an angular jaw – it reminded him of his first infatuation. His first rejection. A final gulp.

His forehead found the table and snores soon followed.

--

Arthur sat at his desk, holding a blank piece of parchment and his favourite quill – the one Merlin had given him. He was trying to write a speech for an upcoming council meeting but all he could think about was his manservant. The, usually joyous, man had been distracted since they had arrived back, and he was unsure what to do about this. If Merlin were a knight, he would propose a fight or Torny or hunting trip (maybe not, that could be in bad taste even if he were a knight) but Merlin was not. Merlin was a country boy that practically cried at the thought of killing a fly, let alone fighting a full human with swords and armour. The king was stumped.

He wanted Merlin to smile again. They had barely performed their usual banter, all attempts by Arthur had fallen flat. He had even called Arthur ‘sire’ but it had none of it’s usual sarcasm, it seemed genuine which left an odd taste in Arthurs mouth. No, it would not do.

He slammed the parchment down, placing the quill next to it gently, and dropped his head in his hand. A frustrated groan escaped his lips.

A knock on the door interrupted his spiralling.

“Enter.”

Merlin stumbled in, basket in his arms. Merlin never knocks. The king squinted, discomfort over the situation growing. Giving up, he finally asked the question that had been plaguing him for days: “what’s wrong with you?”

Merlin’s head shot up from where it was rummaging through the pile of dirty clothes. He turned to face Arthur; confusion painted over his features. His eyebrows were pulled in, emphasising those lines in the middle of his forehead. His lips fell open and Arthur forced himself not to focus on them, and what they could do or where he wanted them to be.

“What?” As if Arthur ever had a reason to think Merlin was being formal with him.

“You’ve resembled the back end of a cat for days now. I don’t like it,” upon noticing Merlin smile as if about to make a remark about how the king cared or some other equally girly falsehood, he added, “it’s been affecting your work ethic. Be normal again.” He nodded, there, fixed it.

Merlin’s smile grew and Arthur’s heart began to swell. “If I didn’t know any better sire, I’d say you were worried about me.” Not quite fixed it would seem.

“Yes, well, good thing you’re an idiot then, eh?”

Merlin opened his mouth again and so Arthur gripped the cup next to him, prompting the boy to run out the room with his basket. A smile wormed its way onto Arthur’s face. He was glad to have his Merlin back, even if just for a moment.

--

Sir Leon prided himself on being King Arthurs longest standing and most loyal knight. He liked to think he knew the man like a true brother and so he also liked to think he knew when his brother was not acting normally. Hearing that he had shouted at a young, injured girl was a clear sign that he was not acting normally. He had wanted to talk to the girl first but, after bumping into Merlin (the poor boy and his basket almost went flying) and finding out that she wasn’t able to have visitors yet, he decided that he should get answers out of Arthur first.

Something Leon discovered early on about Arthur: he does not appreciate being told that he was wrong. While he has a huge heart and wishes the best for all in his kingdom, knowing he has done someone wrong leads him down a sad pit for days and so he tends to reject the notion. Being the one to tell him of his misdoings is not an enjoyable task.

Leon steeled himself as he stood outside the large oak doors. The guards – Thomas and Shaun – nodded at him respectfully before moving out the way for him. He knocked on the door: two quick raps, a single, and then another two. He heard the muffled “come in” from inside and obeyed, taking a final deep breath before doing so.

Arthur was sat, face in his hands with that smile that Leon had begun associating with a recent visit from a certain raven-haired servant. He had a light blush coating his cheeks and a star struck look in his eyes. Leon cleared his throat, bringing Arthur back to reality.

Reality didn’t have anywhere near enough Merlin in it.

“Sir Leon,” he coughed, voice dropping to his usual octave, “what can I do for you?” He gestured to a chair next to the fire and moved from the desk taking the other one for himself. Leon, after thinking about it for a second, sat. He tried to keep his feet still as he mulled over the best way to broach the subject of his visit.

“Well, and I mean no offence over this, I have no desire to attack you Sire—”

“You’re bumbling almost as much as Merlin, Leon. Come out with it, it’s alright.”

The knight cleared his throat, chuckling a little at Arthurs comment. “Right, well, I wanted to ask you about the girl.”

“Miriam.”

“Miriam, yes. I have heard confusing reports of something you said to her.” He watched Arthur’s face. His nostrils were flaring and there was a slight tic near his right eyebrow that Leon had learnt over the years meant frustration. “And” he continued, slightly quieter this time, “I was hoping you could shed some light on the situation?”

Arthur stood up, retrieving a goblet and the pitcher of wine that Merlin had left on his table that morning. He filled the cup, downed it, and filled it again, making his way back to his seat.

“What would you like to know?” He refused to make eye contact, staring into the dying flames instead. He must get Merlin to tend to the fire whenever he returns.

“What happened? I struggle to believe that you intended to hurt or scare her.”

Arthur let out a breathy laugh, smile not reaching his eyes. “I’m glad you have such faith in me, Leon.” He finally looked up at him, noticing how anxious the man was to be asking such questions of his friend. “You are right, I meant no harm to her, but harm is what I brought regardless.” He frowned, taking a large swig of his wine. “She got up in the middle of the night and disappeared into the wood. I couldn’t hear or see her, and it concerned me. I couldn’t take the idea that we had found yet another person wanting to harm those I… care for.” He tipped back the last of his drink, Gwaine would be proud. “Turned out she had just gone to relieve herself and, as she turned back to camp, we bumped into each other. She hit her arm on my armour and I said somethings that maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“It was all an accident then?” Arthur nodded, eyes on the embers again. “So why has the story been twisted so?”

“I may have argued with Lancelot about the situation and made it worse for myself.”

Leon bit his tongue, wanting to suggest the King apologise but knowing it would be far from a wise idea. “I understand, Sire. Have you visited her since?” he asked, knowing the answer was no. As expected, the king shook his head, inhaling deeply. “Perhaps you could arrange a time to see her with Merlin?”

“Perhaps.”

The conversation clearly over, Leon left, leaving his friend to brood over the situation. He took no joy in questioning Arthur or pushing him so, but it was important to do every so often.

--

Gwen peeled the carrots as Elyan brought the water to a boil, adding twigs to the fire occasionally. They had spent the last year getting into a stable routine together having not lived in the same home since they were teens. It was often silent in the hut, both consumed by their thoughts of work and their friends, but when they talked, gods did they talk. It was as if Elyan never left, conversation flowing all night long. They would laugh, joke, hug, cry on occasion, and they would be siblings again.

Now though, with carrots being cut up small, Gwen was in her head.

She had been tending to Miri as she slept when she had no other duties to take care of. Since Morganas disappearance, she didn’t often have other duties. The woman, likely around Gwen’s age, fascinated her. She looked a lot like Morgana did, maybe that was what drew her in. The way her black hair framed her face and her eyebrows furrowed in her sleep. The light brown spots that marked her cheeks were like none she had ever seen before. She wanted nothing more than to talk with her and find out what led her to the forest all those days ago. Gwen found her heart aching thinking of how lonely one must feel to do something like that.

Elyan took the chopping board from in front of his sister and emptied the carrots into the pot above the flames. He watched her as she stared at nothing, face scrunched in worry. She had been like this since meeting the girl and it concerned him. He put his hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. She placed her hand on his, smiled, and returned to preparing the dinner.

That night, as she lay in the rickety bed at the back of their house, she thought about Miri once more. She didn’t understand the feelings swelling in her chest – they were different from the ones she felt with Lancelot all those years ago, but she couldn’t figure out how. She turned onto her side, huffing out a frustrated breath. Morgana would understand, she always did, even when she didn’t.

The day Morgana ran away left a hole in Camelot’s heart. In Gwen’s heart. She had thought her Lady, her friend, could trust her but as she read the note that was left on the hut table, she realised just how wrong she was. She knew Morgana had been struggling with her dreams, with her magic (something that Gwen still hadn’t told anyone about) but she thought that, with Gwen by her side, she would be able to get through it. That they would get through it, together.

A lump grew in her throat and tears pricked at her eyes. She was so tired of crying over what could never be.

And seeing Merlin and Arthur as they were, knowing that, now Arthur was king, they could finally be something more than longing glances, it broke her.

She sat up, pulling her knees into her chest as the water trailed down her cheeks. She was so happy for her friends; for the love that was blooming, but sometimes she hated what they represented. They were everything she could never have. The way they would curl up close on cold nights away from home, the way Merlin would rest a hand on Arthur’s shoulder as he read whatever he was working on, the way Arthur made sure Merlin had a seat right next to him in council meetings. Although she knew they hadn’t talked about it properly, she knew they would end up married in all but title one day and even that could happen if Arthur was brave enough to fight the lords on the matter.

Her chest tightened and she could swear she felt her heart breaking all over again.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

“After all, who doesn’t need a friend who has dirt on everyone?”

(OOC: This is a rare time that I’m writing actual Marauders continuity instead of alt-Marauders continuity.  Let’s say this takes place shortly after Kate’s resurrection but before Emma and Kate’s ridiculous beat-down of Shaw.)

“We’re not exactly friends, though, are we Shaw?”  Pyro shifted uncomfortably in the fine leather arm-chair that Sebastian had insisted he occupy.  He was vaguely aware that there was some kind of bad blood between Shaw and Emma Frost, who was technically his “boss,” he supposed.  And why on earth would a Quiet Council member invite him for a private meeting?  Either Shaw was trying to bang him (that was a “maybe”), or he had some kind of dirty work in mind, the only reason the mutants “on high” would talk to someone like him.  Pyro’s guard was up automatically. 

“No,” Sebastian admitted.  “And I doubt we will ever be.  But we can maintain a cordial relationship that might be....mutually beneficial.” 

Pyro sighed.  This was exactly the kind of weaselly beating-around-the-bush he expected from the high society types.  Never willing to get their own hands dirty, never willing to even outright state aloud the atrocities that they set into action.  He took a generous gulp of the whiskey, and decided that it wasn’t worth staying for however long it would take Shaw to indirectly suggest that he’d like Pyro to commit just a teeny little spot of arson. 

“Let’s not muck about, Shaw.  You obviously want something from me.  What do you want?”

“I see you prefer to be direct.  I can respect that.  I don’t like to waste time, myself,” Sebastian nodded, apparently willing to ignore the rudeness.  “You are in a unique position to bring me valuable information.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.  You see, I have reason to fear that the White Queen is using the Hellfire Trading Company for her own selfish purposes.  Trust me, I’ve worked with her for many years.  The woman is a snake.  Constantly playing games.”

“I didn’t know snakes played games.  Unless you mean that one with the ladders.”

“Don’t be flip, Allerdyce, this is a serious situation, and a unique opportunity for you.”  A bit of the charm had dropped out of Sebastian’s voice as he continued.  “I know she has Kate wrapped around her finger, the poor naive child, even though Emma’s own manipulations led to the girl’s unfortunate death.  And  the others onboard are no match for Emma.  Iceman is just as naive as Pryde, and Storm and Bishop are too noble and high-minded to be able to counter the White Queen’s treachery.  But you.  You don’t have the same ideals.  You are a practical man.  You understand that the world is a dark, vicious place.  I need you to be my man inside the crew.  Pass along information about the missions.  For the sake of Krakoa, and your own crewmates.  Together perhaps we can prevent any more....tragedies.”

Pyro wasn’t entirely sure he believed any of that.  But he also couldn’t say he entirely trusted that Frost woman.  Of course, she HAD carefully arranged a psychic trick to get Yellowjacket out of his body without harm, even though the resurrections meant that it wouldn’t have really mattered if that horrid bug-man had exploded him from the inside.  Plus she’d let him burn those awful children for a sadly short time.  That counted for something, in Pyro’s book.

“If I’m so worldly and cynical as you say, surely you can’t imagine I’ll just take your word for all of this,” Pyro grinned, leaning back and finishing the glass of whiskey.  “Or that I’ll do anything ‘for the good of Krakoa.’  Even if I did believe you, you’re asking me to take on a dangerous job that’ll piss off not one, but three Council members if I’m caught.  And I’m not keen to get kicked off that boat, which would be the very least they would do.” 

“Of course I wouldn’t expect you to work for free,” Sebastian said, leaning forward to refill Pyro’s glass of whiskey.  “I recognize the risk involved, and I will see you handsomely rewarded.  Surely you can see the resources I have available.”  Shaw gestured at the impressive drawing room, just a small section of the luxurious Blackstone Keep.  “And that’s just wealth.  I have connections, political power.  The question is, Pyro - what do you want for yourself?”

That was.....a damn good question, actually.  Since coming out of the cocoon with the Brotherhood disassembled, Mystique acting distant, Blob playing bartender, Phantazia MIA and Avalanche bloody dead, he’d just been drifting with the wind.  Or rather, drifting with the ocean currents.  

“I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice that the rest of the crew occupies far more privileged positions than yourself.  Bishop, a Captain.  Emma, Kate and Storm on the Council.  Iceman lacks political power in Krakoa, but has become something of a minor celebrity among the humans.  They all live in luxury on this island, where all mutants matter but some clearly matter more than others.  And meanwhile, I believe you are still spending most of your time in Krakoa at the Brotherhood compound.”

Pyro had a nice little hut in the area that they all shared.  It was all he really needed, and very convenient for game nights.  Which often turned into drinking-fighting-and-ripping-the-game-board-in-half nights, but it was all in good fun. 

“Yeah, you really seem to care about economic disparity on the island with your giant castle and all that,”

“I’ll not apologize for the wealth that I’ve earned,” Sebastian said.  “I’m offering you an opportunity to earn some of your own, with relatively easy labor.  Be my eyes onboard the Marauder, and I’ll see to it that your life is vastly improved, however you see fit.  As a reward for your service to Krakoa, of course.” 

Pyro gulped down the entire glass of whiskey again, hoping that the jolt as it hit his chest might bring some clarity. 

He wasn’t keen on betraying team-mates.  Once he was on a team, he was there for that team.  He’d only betrayed his team once, the last-minute “heroic” mistake of a dying man.

But he was also very keen on bumping Avalanche up the resurrection queue.  Surely Sebastian could flex his authority to move things along, something even Mystique hadn’t bothered to do.  He could imagine himself and Avalanche living in a castle like this, but with more fancy cars, big-screen TV’s and titty posters.

Assuming that Shaw was telling the truth about any of this.  Assuming that Shaw was successful going up against three Council members at once.  Assuming that Shaw would actually follow through on his promises and not immediately throw Pyro under the bus.  It was something the powerful mutants tended to do with lackeys.  Pyro had many years experience as a lackey to back that up. 

In the end, Pyro supposed it came down to this - who did he trust?  The corrupt businessman who might generously reward his service?  Or the squeaky-clean X-types who might kick him off the boat or even into the pit if he got a little too enthusiastic with his fire? 

Who would have his back, when it came down to it? 

Pyro made his decision, and poured himself more whiskey.

“Shaw, I think we can work something out.  Let me tell you everything I know.”

____________________________________

20 minutes later, Sebastian Shaw had learned that Iceman was cheating on Christian Frost with Bishop, who was also carrying on a passionate affair with Storm, and that Kate had come back “wrong” in her resurrection, but was hiding her ill health from crew-mates while searching for a cure.  Jumbo Carnation had been secretly captured by a human anti-mutant group and brainwashed into being a sleeper agent assassin, but had been subdued by Callisto who had taken him off for deprogramming in the Swiss Alps while also rekindling her love of fashion modelling.  “Storm” had actually been replaced by her evil twin sister “Zalastorm” who stole her powers and appearance, while trapping the real Storm in the Negative zone.  Christian Frost was somehow pregnant.  And Emma was being haunted by five identical psychic ghosts that represented the loss of her childhood innocence.

It was, quite possibly, the most obvious steaming pile of bullshit Shaw had ever heard.  Like something out of a dreadful daytime soap opera.  Downright insulting.

“You know, you could have just said ‘no,’ Allerdyce.  There was no need to waste both of our time.”

“It hasn’t been a waste of my time,” Pyro said cheerfully, drinking again.  “I’ve been having great fun.”  Sebastian reached out and snatched the glass away.  Whiskey was for people who were useful, not obnoxious “guests” now overstaying their welcome.

“You’ve thrown away a tremendous opportunity for the sake of what?  A cheap joke?  You really are as stupid as everyone says you are.”

“No, I’m not,” Pyro said, suddenly straightening up with a serious expression.  “I know who really has my back.  Those X-Men might be self-righteous pricks, but they’ve looked out for me since I came aboard.  They treated me like a team-mate.  I doubt you’d do the same.” 

“I would have treated you with the respect that you earned,” Sebastian said honestly.  “Which, at the moment, is less than nothing.  Get out.”

“Suits me fine,” Pyro said.  He snatched up the whiskey and took a long chug directly from the bottle, winking at Sebastian as he did so.  Sebastian yanked the bottle back.  Not because it was worth anything now, but because he wasn’t going to give Allerdyce the satisfaction of walking away with it.  He grabbed the Australian mutant by the collar, dragged him to a window, and tossed him down into the turbulent waters of the bay, taking some small satisfaction in the splash.  Pyro could probably swim to the shore.  Probably. 

He spun and tossed the whiskey into the fireplace, flames flaring up as it shattered.  A 25 year-old bottle of Chivas Regal, $425.  Thank God he hadn’t wasted any of the good whiskey on trash like Allerdyce.  

Sebastian needed another plan.  Pyro might run and tattle.  Emma had made it clear that she wanted his head.  And Kate had seemed smugly hostile at her resurrection party.  After some thought, he sent out a summons to his worthless son, and the slightly less worthless Fenris.  A storm was obviously coming, and Shaw would be a fool to sit alone in his castle unprepared.  And anyone who knew Sebastian - who knew him and truly understood his character - would know that he was no fool. 

(OOC again: I’m afraid this might have leaned too far in the direction of Pyro making a fool of Shaw, which really wasn’t my intention, especially after that last Marauders issue.  Instead, this was meant to be ‘Sebastian makes an offer, and Pyro acts like his obnoxious asshole self.’  Also, I stole the joke about Sebastian thinking of really expensive alcohol as something that can be ‘thrown away’ on someone like Pyro directly from your own excellent writing.)

[nadacwriter]

Gina and the Merfolk 2: Identity Crisis

With Gina still in her cast, school and life have gotten hard. But will an encounter with a Michigreen merfolk make things harder for her?

I’m so sorry I’m late to posting this! Work + anxiety + hypchondria delayed the release of this a little bit. but I hope you guys like it!

Wordcount: 2,017

Gina’s arm was still in a sling. She was still ‘sleeping’ flat on her back, her arm laid out next to her. She was still getting questions at school from people she didn’t really know about what happened, and still getting odd looks when she explained;

“They had to take a bit of my bone out, and since I’m not old, they took it from my arm instead of my back.”

Gina thought it was just plain unfair. So what if she would’ve had a severe panic attack and possibly chocked on her own spit if they took from her back? At least her ARM would’ve worked! She would’ve had a litany of other issues, but she still would’ve been able to climb trees. Maybe.  

With all this added stress, Gina found herself particularly angry walking home from school that day. The long walk usually brought her some sort of contemplative, relaxing time alone. Just her, the dirt path, and the trees that lined it. But this time, Gina wasn’t having ANY contemplative thoughts. No feelings of relaxation. She just found herself getting angrier as she walked, every time her slack arm hit her ribs, every time she replayed every conversation in her mind. Gina had never cared what others thought of her, why did it all of the sudden matter now? Why was every look critical? Why was every word negative?

Why did every laugh in the background have to be about her?

Gina ignored the tears welling as she went into the forested shortcut, an old path to a coast guard hut that cut the journey short. Her tears were getting her glasses wet, her face warm, her head light, as she just barreled through the forest. She wasn’t even bothering to look where she was going, she was trying to push every one of her thoughts out of her mind. But everything just kept spinning and twisting, getting louder and louder as she pressed further and further into the path.

Eventually, her mind won out over her body, and she forced herself to sit near a little stream. She threw herself down onto the bank and just cried in frustration, ignoring the water bottle that slipped out of her backpack and hit her on her bad arm, sending a ripple of pain through her. THAT clearly didn’t help.

“Ugh, would you STOP IT?!” She screamed, still crying, screaming at a lot all at once; her arm, her brain, her water bottle, just kicking the earth. She grabbed the bottle and just tossed it into the other bank of the stream. She’d deal with it later, maybe when she was done with her crying. She wouldn’t be done for a while.

It wasn’t cathartic. It didn’t help her deal with anything. The fact that she was letting herself cry only dug her shame deeper and deeper into the ground. She wasn’t going to feel particularly good after this. Even after talking to herself.

“I just want control…” She said, through heavy, labored breaths, “I just wanna be in control of myself, is that a crime now? I have to have some disease that just tells me how to think?” She tucked her knees to her chest, and buried her head in them. She heard the rustling in the water, coming against the stream. She didn’t care.

But then she heard something that got her attention.

“Lindan reck! Lindan reck!!”

Gina looked up, wiping her glasses clean with her shirtsleeve, and blinking away some extra tears. And on the other end of the bank, she saw a Michigreen merfolk. Looked to be an adolescent, but it was definitely a Michigreen; green skin, short, greenish hair, striations on the back. The Yellow eyes told her this was a juvenile.

“Lindan...reck?” Gina whispered to herself. Merfolk all had strange dialects, and though she knew a bit of common inland, that’s about it. She didn’t know much Michigreen. But she could put it together. Lindan sounded like ‘land one’, the term they used for humans and their pets. And ‘reck’ probably just meant ‘rock’. Why would an adolescent Michigreen be talking about a person’s rock-

THE WATER BOTTLE. It was metal, but the muted colors looked like stone on the bank. GINA had just THROWN it like she didn’t need it. And it was now closer to the Michigreen than to Gina. Meaning the Michigreen would beat her to it if it wanted it.

And it looked like it did.

“HEY!” Gina called, finding the little footbridge and running across to the other side of the stream, “That’s mine, you can’t have it-oof!” She tripped as she fell down the bank, loosing her footing and almost landing in the water. By then, the Michigreen had it in its hands, and was swimming back up stream. Gina watched as the dull green bottle made its way further up stream. And then she took off her backpack. “Not on my watch, you little bastard.”

Gina was lucky this one was a juvenile. It could go fast in that stream, but it was only the length of her forearm. She could catch up with it, but the problem would be getting it. She was still in a cast, and couldn’t get that wet. She’d have to wait for the Michigreen to jump from the water.

The stream got deeper and wider as it wound along the forest floor. The Michigreen was slowing down now, as the current pushed stronger against it. Gina could see that it was having a hard time carrying a water bottle that was about its size. And the thing kept getting slower, to the point where Gina didn’t even have to run to keep up with it. “Come on,” She said, “Come on up...the air is fine…”

A noise was growing in the distance. It sounded like rushing water of some sort. Gina ignored it as she kept her eye on the floating bottle. Though, at this point, it was less a chase and more a leisurely stroll. She might even have started singing if she weren’t so mad.

The stream got deeper, and the current faster, to the point where Gina almost didn’t believe what she was seeing.

“I’ve never even seen this thing before, is it like...some kind of river or something?” She asked herself, “And what’s that noise? Sounds like a-”

She was cut off when she saw it, letting out a light gasp.

Rapids. Leading up to what must have been a pool under a waterfall. Of course, of course! A Michigreen pond! They would often set up under waterfalls, it kept the water circulating, which’d protect their egg clutches from predators.

“And MUST be where this little guy lives-OPE!” Gina scrambled up the rapids as she saw the little Michigreen beginning to jump, hoping it’d jump close to the bank. “Come on, buddy, I just wanna talk.” She said, gritting her teeth. She positioned herself near the top of the rapids, and waited. She blinked, looking out and slitting her eyes as it got closer, and closer…

The Michigreen made a mistake. It jumped too close to the bank, and Gina was able to nab the bottle midair, the Michigreen still hanging onto it.

“HA! Gotcha!” Gina set the bottle down, and the Michigreen began to hiss, bearing its (somewhat adorable) sharp teeth. Gina was mad at the little thing, but she wasn’t about to kill it or let it die. She laced the bottle between her knees, and used her good hand to gently tug the Michigreen off of the bottle by its tail, before bringing it up to her face to get a better look.

“Huh...you’re oddly fascinated by that bottle, huh?” She asked, before slowly and gently setting the Michigreen down into the water.

“Well, you can’t go around taking other people’s things, y’know! You gotta be more careful, or you might wind up in a situation you’re not...prepared...for…”

There must have been at least 40 Michigreen merfolk, adults, juveniles, and guppies, staring Gina down with their greenish black eyes. Greenish-black. Adults.

And there were way more of those.

Gina had stumbled into a nest of incredibly angry looking merfolk.

And just manhandled one of their young, right in front of them.

“...Um...Hi…”

They all stared at Gina. Just...looking straight at her. Not making to attack, not preparing to gore her or feast on her, just looking at her. Intently. Intense, judging stares.

Judging Stares.

“I can’t even get away from it HERE!?” Gina huffed and kicked the bank of the flowing pond, sitting down on the grass once more.

“ALL I want is to just LIVE, is that so much? I just wanna be able to sit out here and be angry and throw something without some merfolk coming and stealing it, or without some doctor saying I’m not a person, or without some loser thinking I’m WEIRD for once! The woods aren’t MINE, I get it!” She threw her hand down, a weak, sad smile on her face, “But I come out here and I hope that I can at least BE, without getting ‘pranked’ or stared at like I’m some kind of FREAK!” She didn’t even notice she was crying, at this point, the smile still on her face.

“And now I don’t even get that!? I’m not human enough to be with humans, and I’m not animal enough to be out HERE clearly, so what AM I?! WHERE am I supposed to even GO?!” She threw the bottle back down into the bank, so hard it sank into the wet sand. She buried her head in her knees again, and cried just as hard as before. She didn’t have control over this, either, it seemed.

Gina heard some rustling in the water, coming near her. When she looked up, it was the adolescent from earlier.

“Ugh, just...keep it.” She said, kicking the bottle to it, “I can get another one, it doesn’t matter.”

The merfolk recoiled, swimming back away from Gina. It seemed to go back to its mother, still staring Gina down.

With a heavy sigh, Gina took the water bottle, and made the long walk back to her backpack, shooing away a chipmunk that was trying to get into it. She hoisted the back onto her good shoulder and slipped the bottle back into its sleeve. And she walked home, taking the shortcut past the coast guard hut, trying to come up with a lie she could tell to explain her tears.

“I’ll say I landed on my cast funny.” Gina said. She’d never lied to her dad before, it just wasn’t her nature. But she didn’t want to go through it with him. She just couldn’t bring herself to dump all that weight on someone else. It’d just be unfair to make someone else deal with it.

It’d be unfair to unload on someone.

_____

Gina laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was 1 am. Again. 10 more hours and it’d be 4 days since she got the cast. It wasn’t supposed to come off for another four WEEKS. Gina looked up, her throat dry, her breathing shallow, looking at the stars through the window in the wall.

“...I know you can’t hear me, mom.” She said to herself. “And I know I should be taking this to dad. Since he’s the one who can help me.” She rubbed her eyes.

“But I just don’t know who I belong to. WHAT I belong to. I’m not even sure if I should BE here right now, or ever. I’m worried. So...so if you could just give a sign that you can hear me somehow, I really just want to know.”

Gina looked deep into the black sky full of stars.

Nothing.

“I don’t even believe in god...ugh, this is stupid.” Gina threw herself face first down onto the pillow. “This whole thing is stupid.”

Gina finally got to sleep. She wasn’t woken up by the fan. Or the wind.

Or, the strange, gentle call of a deer. Ringing through the woods.