#so...I have a nervous stutter in the sense that I do the mazing

[fossntwriter]

More than Life Itself

Newt x reader

Summary: the reader was taken by WCKD when Minho was and Newt’s determined to get her back, but it will take a little convincing

You honestly didn’t know how long it had been since you last saw your friends, but you did know that it was a long time ago. When you were with them, you felt happy and safe for the most part (when you weren’t running for your lives) but it’s been months since you’ve felt anything but hopelessness and despair. 

You were only in the glade for a couple of months before Thomas came up and figured a way out with Minho. But, in those short months, Newt and you became best friends. You were practically inseparable all throughout the maze and the scorch, up until you were taken by WCKD with Minho. You wondered if he missed you as much as you missed him. You hoped your friends would come for you, but you also knew that if they did-it would be incredibly dangerous. You didn’t want to get your hopes up in case they never came or didn’t make it. 

You wanted to know more than anything that they were safe though. You would give anything to know that they were alive and okay. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t ever find out unless they or the right arm finally helped you escape from the clutches of WCKD. 

You thought you were safe at the right arm. You thought you were finally going to live a happy and somewhat normal life. But nothing lasts forever. You knew that. But when you arrived at the camp where people from the right arm were going to help you, you finally found a sense of safety and security. You were finally going to live your life with your friends and the boy you loved. 

You remembered when you first found out that he loved you. 

It was one of those nights in the glade where you just couldn’t sleep. Your brain was still wondering what your life was like before the maze. Did you have any siblings? What did your parents look like? You lied wide awake in your hammock just thinking about what the outside world is like and why you were taken here. You were restless and getting bored of just laying there, so you decided to take a walk to burn off some energy and hopefully get to sleep soon. 

You started to quietly walk around the glade, enjoying the silence of it at night. It was peaceful for once. Until you heard the screeches of a greiver from inside the walls of the maze. It wasn’t a sound you were really afraid of anymore after having spent a couple of weeks in the glade already, but it did send shivers down your spine just thinking about the deadly creatures. 

You just tried to ignore the sounds and continue walking, letting your feet guide you. You somehow winded up in the homestead. You decided to just sit in there and try to enjoy the peace and quiet. A little while later, a certain blonde-haired boy walked the stairs and let out a startled (but still quiet) noise upon seeing somebody on the main floor at this time of night. But he quickly calmed down when he saw that it was you. 

“(y/n)? What are you doing up at this hour?” He asked curiously.

You looked at him and shrugged, “Just thinking.”

“About?...” He prompted as he took a seat on the floor next to you.

“What my life was like. I just want to know what my family looked like. And why I’m here.Why I was sent here. I want to know what my life would be like right now, if I was still with my family. Ya know? I don’t even know what they look like. I just want a moment with them, to meet them.”

Newt nodded, having thought the same thing before about his family. “I get it.”

You nodded and looked at him. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

He shrugged, “Just restless. My body won’t let me bloody sleep.” 

“Want to do something?” You asked, “Maybe doing something will help us sleep.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Like a game. Pictionary?” 

He let out a small laugh, “Sure. Why the bloody hell not.”

You giggled and got up, starting to rummage through droors as quietly as you could, looking for paper and a pencil of some sort. 

Moments later you came back and started to draw. Newt wasn’t even watching the paper though, he was watching you. A look of awe on his face as he admired your beauty. He found himself staring at you a lot. You were just so bloody beautiful to him, and you tried to stay positive even though being in the glade can seem hopeless at times. He admired your passion to help others. You were genuinely kind and cared about everyone. Even Gally liked you. 

“Newt.” You snapped your finger in front of his face, letting him out of his trance. You had a smile on your face as you realized he was staring at you, and Newt blushed at having been caught. 

“Oh sorry.” He said, scratching the back of his neck, nervously. 

“Why were you looking at me instead of the paper?” You asked obliviously, letting out a small giggle.

His heart fluttered at the sound, it was the most gorgeous sound he’s ever heard. 

“Umm, I-I was...” He stumbled over his words as his blush grew darker, and stopped talking when he heard you giggle again. An adorable smile graced his face at the sound again. 

He looked down at your drawing on the paper, and saw two people holding hands with a heart drawn between them.  

He looked back up at you, “Hey, (y/n)?”

“hmm?” You asked, wondering what he was going to ask you.

“I just- I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay,” You said kindly, “What is it?”

“I- I, um, I just w-wanted to say that, I l-love you.” He stuttered out, obviously sounding scared to tell you that. 

You were taken aback, not expecting to ever hear the words you wanted him to say, but here you were. You were so shocked, that you forgot how to breath for a second as all air left your lungs. Newt let out a cough of nervousness, which seemed to bring you to your senses and say something back.

“Wow.” You breathed out. Newt didn’t know what to make of the reaction. He was nervous that that was all you had said, and for sure that you were going to reject him, until he saw a bright smile take over your shocked face. 

“I love you too.” 

He let out a laugh of disbelief and ran a hand through his hair, ecstatic that you felt the same way. Without thinking, he leaned over and kissed you.

And you kissed him back.

Your thoughts of him were broken by the sound of your door opening, and a WCKD doctor stepping in. He didn’t bother to say anything to you, knowing that you were probably in no mood to talk to him-since you never were.

You closed your eyes and tried to forget you where here, in this building, with these awful people who seemed to not give damn about how you felt. You hated it here. They didn’t give you a choice in anything. They did whatever they pleased and they did it whenever they wanted to do it. You let a tear slip out of your eye and felt it as it rolled down your cheek. You were miserable here. Put through hell everyday. You’ve never wished so badly to die. WCKD had broken down your spirits and normally positive behavior, but because of them-you had lost all hope. You wanted out of this place. You were not treated like a real human. To them, you were a subject. You were their subject to experiment on you with. To take your blood. To sacrifice you slowly to find a cure. 

When you first got here, you put up a fight. You would punch or slap anyone that tried to get near you or tried to stick a needle in you. Eventually, they strapped you down to the white bed in your gray room so they could conduct their experiments without you harming them. As time went on, you stopped fighting. Losing the energy to do so. You were hardly let out of your room. You got two small meals a day and a bathroom break only once. 

The doctor ignored the tears silently rolling down your face and continued on with his work as he got a needle ready to draw more of your blood. You felt the needle being inserted into your arm, and you wanted to punch the guy so badly, but you couldn’t because of your restraints. And even if the restraints weren’t there, you weren’t sure you could properly kick the doctor’s ass considering how weak you had gotten over the months of being trapped here.

You just wanted to die. You’ve never wanted to die before, but now you would rather die 100 times than stay here and be treated like this. 

But you couldn’t do anything about it. It was hopeless. 

As soon as the doctor left, you let out a breath of relief. Thankful that you could finally be alone again, but still unhappy.

You tried to get some sleep considering you haven’t really done too much of that since arriving. 

It was only a couple of moments later that your door opened and in walked someone you never thought you would see again in your life.

Newt.

You gasped. “Newt!” You said, sounding relieved, and pulling on the bindings that held you down. 

“Oh thank bloody goodness.” Newt said when he saw you. He made his way over to you quickly, a small, happy but yet worried smile on his face. 

“H-How did you get in here?” You asked with hope in your voice that you would finally escape with the boy you loved with your entire heart. 

“Long story, no time to explain.” He headed right to the droor where there were scissors so he could cut the bindings holding you. 

While he rummaged through the droor full of things to find them, you tried to struggle your way out a little more but soon gave up because you knew it was useless.

“Did you find Minho?” You asked.

“Minho?” He asked confused. 

“Your best friend, Minho. He was taken along with me.” You told him suspiciously. How could he forget his best friend?

“Oh right. Minho.” He said, his voice void of any emotion as he finally found the scissors and started to walk back over to you. “I almost forgot about him.” He laughed nervously. 

This was not your Newt. He would never forget about any of his friends, especially if they were in danger. 

“Stop!” You shouted at him, and Newt stopped in his tracks. “You’re not him! You’re not the real Newt!” 

Then you heard a voice come over the speaker, “Test for subject A11 completed.” You had a look of confusion on your face, but then when you looked back over to where Newt was, his appearance started to change into one of a WCKD doctor. 

You let out a sob as you realize that you were right. This was fake. It was all a test to see if you could figure out that it wasn’t really Newt, and that you weren’t actually going to be saved. 

You let out a sob of despair as the doctor that was once disguised as Newt walked out of the room. All the hope you had just had moments ago, shattered into a million pieces as you were left in the awful room by yourself once again.

__

That was a couple of weeks ago. You didn’t think you could’ve ever not trusted WCKD anymore, but after that test, you didn’t trust anything you saw or heard.

Not even when you heard gunshots from outside of your room. You kept staring at the ceiling of the horrid place you have been at for what felt like years. 

When the door to your room opened, you didn’t even look at whoever stepped in, already knowing it was a doctor to put you through your daily hell. 

“(Y/n)?” You heard a voice. His voice.  

“Not again.” You whispered as you began to cry. “I can’t do this again!” You shouted and started to pull at the bindings with the little strength you had left.

Newt was taken aback by your reaction. Not again. I can’t do this again. What did that mean? He cautiously walked over to you. He wanted to hug you and kiss you but clearly WCKD did something to you, and he knew he couldn’t yet.

What did they do to you? He wondered. He thought you would be at least a little happy when you saw him, but you were laying there with tears trickling down your cheeks and trying to squirm away from him the best you could. 

Seeing you like this broke his heart. 

“(Y/n/n). It’s me. It’s Newt.” He said, voice cracking with sympathy at your tired and terrified state. You had bags under your eyes and your skin was paler than he remembered it being. You were looked skinnier too. 

“No! Stop!” You shouted at him as you continued to stop, “Don’t come any closer!”

Tears started to well up in Newt’s eyes at her reaction to him.

“Please.” She whispered in defeat. “I know it’s not him. I know it’s not actually Newt.”

“What?” He asked disbelievingly. He was confused. What did they do to you to make you think it wasn’t him. To make you this terrified of him coming any closer to you. 

Then Thomas came into the room with Minho in tow. They both looked shock at how much you were crying and trying to get away from Newt. When the say the confused and heartbroken look on Newt’s face, they knew that WCKD must have done something to you.

Thomas tried to convince you as well. “(y/n), it’s us. It’s really us. I promise.”

“Don’t give me hope if you’re just going to take it away again. Please. I can’t do this anymore.” 

All of their hearts broke upon hearing what you had just said. 

“How can we prove it to you?’ Newt asked quietly.

You thought for a second, trying to calm down enough. A little flicker of hope sparked inside of you at hearing the genuine concern in his voice for you. Maybe it was him? Maybe it was actually your friends this time. You wanted to know for sure. “Tell me something only you would know.” You told who you hoped was actually Newt when you started to stop crying. 

He thought for a moment, trying to think of something that happened between the two of you. Then he remembered.

He slowly, walked to where you were, Thomas and Minho watching him cautiously, hoping whatever he was going to say was going to work. 

“Back in the glade, there was a night where neither of us could sleep.” He began, and you listened intently. “You and I sat on the floor in the homestead, telling each other why we couldn’t sleep. Then you said that we should play pictionary together, to have something to do. So we did. You started drawing but I wasn’t even looking at the paper because I was too busy looking at how beautiful you looked. You asked me why I was staring at you and that’s when I told you that I loved you. It took you a couple of seconds to say it back, but you did.” 

Tears started to form in your eyes, but not of sadness and fear this time, but because he was actually there. It was him. It was the real Newt. The real Thomas and the real Minho. The Newt dug around in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, you saw the two people you drew with a heart.

“I kept it.” He whispered. 

“Oh my god, it’s actually you.” You breathed out and started sobbing with happiness this time.

Newt looked so happy and relieved that you finally believed him. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I won’t ever let them hurt you again.”

And then he kissed you. It had been months and months since you’ve felt his lips on yours and it felt just as loving as you remembered. You kissed him back right away. As soon as he broke the kiss, you two just looked at each other, finally taking in the details of each others faces in for the first time in was seemed like a lifetime. 

“I love you.” You told him.

“I love you more than life itself.”

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 4 of 16

Oh god, I’m growing attached to this relationship...

In other news, computer still dead and I’m tired and idk how to feel about this chapter. I’m slowing down lmao. But here it is anyway

~~~~~~~~~~

To say Gally was pissed that you went into the maze would be an understatement, even if you just went down the main corridor to help the boys get Alby inside the Glade.

Thankfully Gally didn’t have time to scold you too much, because after making sure Alby was situated in the Med-jacks care, the Keepers called a meeting to discuss the whole situation.

This should be fun...

As always, it was a little tough corralling everyone into council hall. But after everyone settled into their seats, Gally stood up to speak first after glancing your way for a moment.

“Things are changing.” Gally started. “There’s no denying that. First, Ben gets stung in broad daylight, and then Alby. And now our Greenie here has taken it upon himself to go into the maze. Which is a clear violation of our rules here.”

“Yeah, but he saved Alby’s life.” Frypan voiced, some Gladers nodding into agreement.

“Did he?” He countered. “For three years, we have coexisted with these things, and now you’ve killed one of them.” He pointed at Thomas. “Who knows what that means for us?”

“Well, what do you suggest we do?” Newt asked calmly.

“He has to be punished.” Gally said like it was the obvious action, making the whole room speak up with their disagreements, including you.

You scoffed. “You think he should be punished because he tried to save his life?”

Gally glared at you. “He still broke the rules.”

“So I guess that means Y/N has to be punished too.” Minho voiced, gaining the attention of the other Gladers. “She went into the maze.”

Gally rolled his eyes. “Not like that Greenie did.”

“Rules are rules, right, Gally? Or are you suggesting Y/N should get special treatment cause she’s a girl, or cause she’s special to you?”

“Minho.” Newt interrupted, sighing in frustration. “You were there with him. What do you think?”

Minho threw Gally a glare before sighing softly. “I think...in all the time we’ve been here, no one’s ever killed a Griever before. When I turned tail and ran, this dumb shank stood behind to help Alby. Look, I don’t know if he’s brave or stupid...whatever it is, we need more of it. I say we make him a Runner.”

“A Runner? What? Minho, let’s not jump the gun here, alright?” Fry voiced, along with everyone else voicing their opinions, even Chuck trying to get a chant in Thomas’ favor going, but failing.

“If you want to throw the newbie a parade, that’s fine. Go ahead. But if there is one thing that I know about the maze, it is that you do not-”

A rumbling and sudden blaring horn interrupted Gally, echoing around the entire Glade and making your ears hurt. But you knew that noise, it was what you heard when you came up in the Box. But it’s not even close to a month yet. Nothing is supposed to be coming up yet. So, what the hell is happening?

Gally and Newt ran out, taking off toward the Box immediately, you and the rest of the Gladers following closely behind.

You quickly made it to the Box, standing beside Gally as he and Newt opened the doors.

“What the hell?” You whispered as everyone crowded around the Box, Thomas pushing his way to the front.

“It’s another girl.” Newt said, looking up to the group in confusion, and to you briefly. “I think she’s dead...”

The girl was fair, long dark hair slightly covering her face. She was unconscious, but thankfully she was still breathing from what you could see. You looked to her hand, seeing that there was something she was clutching onto. “What’s in her hand?”

Newt leaned over and gently grabbed what was in her hand, a piece of paper. “She’s the last one...ever.” Newt read, once again looking up in confusion.

The girl mumbled in her state, and you could’ve sworn you heard your name come from her mouth. “Did you hear-”

The girl gasped loudly, interrupting your question and causing everyone to jump in shock, her eyes opening wide. “Thomas.” She panted, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and falling back into unconsciousness.

Everyone looked to Thomas, who looked just as in shock as all the other Gladers.

“Y/N, help me bring her up, will ya?” Newt asked.

“Why me?”

“Well, you’re...ya know...” You rolled your eyes, reluctantly hopping down into the Box and helping Newt carry the girl out and handing her over to the Med-jacks care. Thankfully, your arm was mostly healed from Ben’s attack, well, the sprained part anyway. “We’ve got it from here, Y/N, thank you.”

You nodded, but you didn’t leave. You stared at the girl, feeling a familiar feeling, almost like with Thomas. It was different, but the same. You felt a headache coming on just by trying to make sense of this feeling that you don’t remember ever having, but you knew you had nonetheless.

“Y/N?” Newt snapped you out of your trance.

“Uh, sorry. I’ll leave now.”

You left the room in a hurry, almost running into Thomas and Minho in the process. “You good?” Minho asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just feeling a little headache.” You smiled weakly.

Thomas gave you a look, and you knew he wasn’t buying it. But you had a feeling he didn’t have the time to call you out so you pushed past them and headed to the watering station.

You just needed water, that was probably it. You’ll be fine once you have some water.

You sighed in relief once you took some gulps of the water from the faucet. It wasn’t cold, but it still felt nice. Your headache didn’t go away unfortunately.

When you saw Gally walking over to you, part of you just wanted to leave. But knowing him, he probably wouldn’t let you leave so easily without talking to him. You turned around to lean against the makeshift sink, tapping your foot impatiently as you prepared yourself for a probable exhausting conversation.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You huffed.

“Get the girl to the Med-jacks okay?”

“Yep.”

“What happened to your thumb?”

You lifted your hand up to your face, looking over your thumb. The peeled off skin had already scarred over. It didn’t hurt when you didn’t think about it, but now that Gally pointed it out, you felt the pulsing throbs of pain from the little wound.

“Irrelevant. What do you want?” You asked, briefly sucking on your thumb to try and ease the pain.

“What the hell is up with you, huh? I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad at you.” Gally huffed.

“You kept trying to make me believe that Thomas and Minho were already dead, Gally. You didn’t even try to think anything else.” You crossed your arms.

A tense pause before Gally spoke again.

“That was a really stupid thing you did today, you know. Going into the maze.”

You rolled your eyes. “I barely went five feet.”

“Minho was right.” Gally sighed. “I can’t give you special treatment. You’ll have to be punished along with the Greenie.”

“I wouldn’t need or want special treatment anyway, especially from you.”

Gally chuckled bitterly. “Just yesterday you told me you liked me, and now you’re acting like you hate me. God, if that girl acts anything like you-”

“What, huh?” You interrupted harshly.

One of the Builders came running up to you and Gally, panting in exhaustion when he finally reached you. “What is it?”

“That Greenie and a bunch of other Gladers ran into the maze.”

You quickly snapped your head towards your fellow Builder. “What?” You yelped. “When?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

Gally’s face quickly contorted in anger, shaking his head before storming off. “Where are you going?” You asked, struggling to keep up with his long legs.

“Finding Newt. If that Greenie comes back alive, there’s no way he’s not gonna be punished now.”

It was hard to argue with Gally when he set his mind to something, especially when it’s about something that he was probably right about. There was no argument that you could’ve made that would help Thomas, the boy really just loved looking for trouble.

You stopped following after Gally, and went to find Chuck to see him already at the maze doors. “Gally’s on a warpath.”

“What do you mean?” Chuck stuttered, startled by your sudden presence beside him and looking around nervously.

“Thomas went into the maze again, but you already know that, don’t you.” You smirked, causing Chuck to blush. “Gally found out about it. Make sure he knows when he gets back, okay, bud?”

Chuck quickly nodded, nervously smiling as you ruffled his curly hair.

When they got back, you stood outside council hall. You weren’t allowed in the meeting, since it was Keepers only. But you paced back and forth, trying not to bite the same thumb that you did this morning.

You really had to work on your nervous tics.

You looked up expectantly when you heard the building’s doors open, an angry looking Gally storming out and walking past you. “Wait, what happened?” You asked, jogging to keep up with his pace.

“Newt made that shank a Runner.”

You were speechless. A Runner? You didn’t think Thomas would get appointed with such a job so early on. “That’s it?”

Gally suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing you to almost trip and fall when you tried to stop mid jog. “Why are you talking to me, huh? If you hate me, shouldn’t you be ignoring me?” He said, glaring at you as he spoke.

“I never said I hated you. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Gally scoffed. “I’m being dramatic? Yeah, right.” He started to walk again, but you got in his way.

“Gally, wait.” Gally stopped, even though he could’ve easily moved you out of the way. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t hate you. I don’t. I was mad at you, is all.” You looked down nervously from his intense gaze.

Gally sighed softly, gently bringing you into a hug, tender much like the one he gave you yesterday. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or anything.”

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly. “So, what was the verdict?”

Gally scratched the back of his neck and bit his lip nervously. “Uh, well, a night in the Pit with no food or water.”

“For him?”

“For both of you.” You closed your eyes and nodded, you weren’t really surprised. “I would’ve tried to lessen your punishment if we had made up earlier.”

You shook your head and smiled. “It’s alright, Gal. I can handle the Pit. It’s not like I haven’t spent a couple nights there anyway.”

Gally grinned and chuckled, starting to walk to the Builder’s area right beside you, making sure that you could keep up with him. “Right, right, I remember. You certainly taught Winston to never catcall you ever again. Poor shank couldn’t even walk right for days after you kicked him.”

“Shouldn’t have commented on my tits.” You shrugged, smirking slightly as you remembered Gally’s laugh when it happened.

“It was pretty badass, in my opinion.” Gally playfully knocked himself against you.

“Alby didn’t seem to think so.”

“You shouldn’t have been punished for that. Even I thought it was stupid.”

“Thanks, Captain.” You smiled softly, the smile itching to grow wider when Gally’s face flushed red.

“The girl’s awake!”

You and Gally both turned to see all the Gladers surrounding the watch tower, all ducking the various rocks that were being thrown off. “That’s probably not good...” You mumbled, taking off with Gally towards the commotion.

As soon as you both got to the base of the tower, it didn’t even take a minute before Gally got frustrated with the girl. But you were more frustrated even more by all the boys that seemed to be having fun. You understood how the girl was feeling after all.

“Guys, maybe we should give her some space!” You tried yelling over the ruckus, to no avail.

Not really a surprise there.

Seeing Newt in the crowd, you walked up to him while trying to dodge the rocks in the process. “I don’t think she likes us very much.” He chuckled when he noticed you next to him.

“Well no wonder, she’s probably terrified. You guys aren’t even giving her time to adjust here.”

“We just wanna know why she’s here, that’s all! I didn’t think being curious was a crime!” Fry voiced.

“It’s not! But we’ll have to ask her when she’s ready.” You insisted, then yelping in pain when a rock landed on top of your head. “Ow...”

“Throw one more of those things!” Gally yelled, quickly being interrupted by a rock landing on his head. You tried not to laugh at the comedic timing...

Thankfully, the Med-jacks brought Thomas back from wherever he was and you quickly ran to him. “Go on and talk to her, Greenie.”

“What? Why me?”

“She said your name, Thomas. Out of all the guys here, you’ll be the one she talks to...probably.”

“Not to butt in,” Jeff voiced from beside you, “but she was saying your name in her sleep too.”

“Uh, what?”

~~~~~~~~~~

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Echoes of the Heart

General Hux x Female Reader

A/N: What started as a one shot is now turning into a multi chapter (thank you @autumnleaves1991-blog !) You wanted to see their life together, you’re in for a bumpy ride. I don’t apologise.

Warnings: Kylo Ren is an absolute brat. Hux is livid. We have some mind searching and force use.

Word Count: 2417

Read Part 1 here on AO3.

Part 2 on AO3.

The relief that Hux felt as he stepped onto the hangar floor of the Finalizer was unparalleled. He was back in his element, back in control, back home. Mitaka was waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp and fell into step next to the General, rattling off the news that Hux had missed while he was on the planet's surface. But Hux barely heard a word he said, his thoughts were back down on his homeworld with you. He was a married man now, the ceremony had been small, a marriage of convenience to further that family’s standing in Arkanis society. Something for them to brag about, their daughter, married to the General of the First Order. Travelling on the flagship with the mighty yet mysterious Kylo Ren.

Hux lifted his head and stopped walking down the corridor, his face pinched with annoyance as he regarded the deep wounds in the walls of his ship. The durasteel had melted from the intense heat, the outside of the marks black and full of anger. He hated the way this petulant man child used his pride and joy as something to release some feeling onto. Isn’t that what the Knights were for? Training? And to stop this sort of idiotic behaviour.

“S—sir?” Mitaka stuttered slightly at Hux’s heavy sigh.

“This needs sorting.” He demanded quietly.

“Y-yes sir!” Hux turned on his heel, the crisp sound of his boots rang out over the glossy floor as he entered the bridge and he saw with satisfaction everyone snapped to attention.

“At ease.” He called out, not that anyone paid attention to that command. His bright green gaze fell on a dark shrouded figure standing before the view port and he took a steadying breath before striding confidently forward.

“Welcome back General Hux.” The voice that oozed out of the vocoder was deep and rich caressing his ears with a velvet quality that he detested. Hux flinched, barely perceptible to anyone who might have been watching the pair as they stared out at the stars, just the faintest flicker of his eyelids as the cold crawling touch of the darkside pricked over his skin. He knew his barriers would hold, if there was one thing the officers and Generals were taught in the First Order it was to block out the selfish probing of Kylo Ren. “Did your business conclude on Arkanis?” He asked and Hux could hear the sneer in his voice behind the mask.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but it did and once she is onboard we are ready to leave.” Hux gripped his hands together tightly behind his back, making a note to make sure the first you did was receive your mental training. A fresh mind on the Finalizer for Kylo Ren was like dangling meat before a tooka. The soulless mask turned to Hux which he ignored, even if the hidden gaze seemed to burn its way through his face. Without a word he swept off the bridge, his feet stomping loudly and a collective exhale sounded from the team on the bridge.

“Sir, a ship is approaching from Arkanis.” Hux turned to look at the specifications and he instantly recognised it as your ship.

“That shall be my guest. Make sure she is escorted to her chambers with all her items. Whatever she wants, she gets.” Mitaka made a note on the datapad when Hux heard the soft ding of a notification. His Lieutenant’s eyes widened slightly, shooting a nervous look at Hux. “Spit it out Dopheld.” He almost snapped.

“S-sir, Supreme Leader Snoke is requesting you.” He knew this was coming, he’d been waiting for it even if the new knot in his stomach told him otherwise. “I shall take it in my chambers. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Yes Sir,’ murmured Mitaka as the General strode off.

You stepped off the ramp of your ship, already noticing the difference in the air of the ship. The purifying mechanics on the Finalizer were of the highest quality but still the staleness hit the back of your throat and you felt the need to clear it. Your gaze was pulled to a large dark figure as he entered the hangar, he was taller than every stormtrooper here, his outfit swaying with each heavy footstep. A mask covered his face, black and menacing like the rest of his attire, with hints of silver around where his eyes should have been. You raised your chin defiantly as he approached, the rustle of his outfit sounded loud when he came to a stop before you. His head tilted slightly to the side and you could feel the goosebumps rising all over your skin under the soft fabric of your dress. This man was dangerous, he gave off that presence and it made you feel weary.

“You must be General Hux’s guest.” You didn’t like the way he accentuated the last word, you weren’t sure how much Hux had told his staff here about what happened on Arkanis. You were stepping into his world now and you were willing to play by his rules.

“I am.” You boldly affirmed.

“I am here to escort you to your new quarters.” He turned and offered you his arm. Instantly you wanted to recoil but you knew every eye in this hangar was on you and him. You knew who he was, you recognised the mask. This, was Kylo Ren. The Jedi Killer, a wielder of the mysterious entity known as the Force. Unfortunately Hux hadn’t been able to prepare you for arriving on the ship, once the papers were signed and the appropriate socialising had happened he left and came back to the Finalizer with instructions for you to follow. If you so wished. In all honesty you had pondered over it for a long time, but while talking to him in the maze you realised you wanted off that planet, away from the confines of the stifling society and to become your own person, hopefully.

You slipped your hand into the crook of Kylo’s elbow, holding in a gasp as he trapped your hand in the crease, you could feel his muscles bulging against your fingers but you refused to react. You knew men like him, dealt with them a thousand times. They were the ones who exuded power, they wanted you to simper and fall at their feet when they flexed it before your face. But that wasn’t you. You matched his purposefully long strides knowing he was trying to unsettle you but instead you made it to the doorway of your quarters in seemingly record time. You could feel his annoyance, he hadn’t tried to engage you in conversation which was good for him because you probably would have shut him down.

The door whooshed opened and finally he released you letting you step inside. The quarters were smaller than what you were used to but you didn’t mind, you were on a ship after all. Your life was about to change dramatically. You heard the door shut behind you and you let out a small sigh as you began to peel your gloves off. A chill ran up your spine and your motions paused, turning slowly you realised he hadn’t left at all.

“Can I help you Commander?” You asked. He began to move, his mask trained on you as he circled and you wondered if he could hear the increase in your heartbeat. The dress did nothing to help you, stopping you from taking a deep breath and you began to perspire. You clutched the lace gloves in your hand wishing you were holding onto something with more substance. Like a weapon.

“You seem unsettled.” He commented, the velvety tones rolling out of his mask trying to lull you into a false sense of security. You smirked trying to get across a confidence you didn’t feel at all.

“Is that your only observation?” You blanched slightly. Why did you say that? You didn’t want him to notice things about you at all! You wanted him to leave. A chill ran up your spine and your lips parted, letting loose a tiny gasp of surprise. In that moment he advanced quickly with grace and a sureness that you didn’t realise could come from someone of his size. You nearly tripped over the lengths of your ridiculous dress as you backed away from his outstretched leather gloved hand. It was hazy at first, the pressure that squeezed at the base of your skull. A full throbbing ache that quickly engulfed your mind, robbing you of your senses, all that was left to you was touch. The feel of the cool wall was the only thing you knew to be real as visions clouded your mind, bright colours, snatches of conversations, people’s faces, rooms, so many rooms….

“REN! What the HELL do you think you are doing?” Armitage. You hadn’t known him that long but the unbridled fury that laced his tone made you want to cower and hide in a corner. The pressure withdrew and you slumped against the wall as everything came back. Your chest strained against the confines of your dress and you wanted nothing more than to get out of it but right now there was a more pressing matter.

Kylo straightened to his full height before turning to face the red faced General. Hux’s fists were balled up at his sides, the flush that covered his face reached the tips of his ears but his eyes held the most power. Glaring at the Commander with such a blazing intensity you wondered how the taller man was still standing.

“I was just making sure your wife wasn’t a Resistance spy.” If Hux could have got any redder he would have, the veins threaded in his neck and you could see the tension gathering in his jaw.

“Get. Out.” He spat. His body stiff, like pure rage alone, was holding him together. Kylo kept eye contact as he stalked past the quivering General and neither of you moved until the door had closed firmly behind the black clad figure. It felt like an electrifying presence had left the room and all of a sudden you could breathe again, the recycled air clogging your throat as you dragged more into your lungs. Without thinking you automatically fumbled for the drawstrings to your dress, if you didn’t release it you were going to faint. “Are you alright?” His voice was clipped and short but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. The strings loosened with a practised twist of your hand and you bent over breathing deeply through your nose.

Hux didn’t know what to do. The adrenaline was still flowing through his body from seeing you at the mercy of that monster and he thought his heart was going to explode at the sight of your unseeing eyes and pain stricken face. Now it thudded wildly, almost bruising his ribs as he advanced to your hunched over form. He wanted to touch you, he wanted to touch you. If this hadn’t been a fraught situation he would have noted that thought with more interest but his hands were reaching for your heaving shoulders automatically. Like touching someone else was the most natural thing for him to do. You looked up at him, your eyes shining with unfallen tears and he thought his heart was literally going to jump out of his chest.

“Armitage,” the way you gasped his name made his insides clench and he didn’t register that your hand had already found its way to grip onto his arm. “Not the greeting I was expecting,” you said in breathy tones and he cursed himself for wondering if that tone only came out after you’d been hurt.

“I was detained, or I would have met you off the ship myself.” He hated this new feeling that slithered through him, it wasn’t one he felt very often and in all honesty he barely recognised it for what it was. Guilt. You managed a feather light smile as you straightened, your breathing was finally slowing and your hand left his forearm. He flexed his hands after removing them from your shoulders, the imprint of your skin still burning through his gloves. He took a respectful step back, falling behind the mask he had perfected over the years to hide any emotion. Weak, spineless boy…. As always his fathers voice haunted him when he needed it the least and he clasped his hands together behind his back in an effort to conceal any unwanted tremors. He almost hated himself for admiring you in this moment, the way you held yourself, the steeliness in your gaze spoke of some hidden strength and he knew you had already presented yourself better than some of his officers when faced with the onslaught that was Kylo Ren.

“I shall make sure he doesn’t return. The Knights will keep him busy.” You nodded. “I have matters to attend to.” He turned on his heel wishing he could do more, provide more, but he had no idea if you wanted him to. This was after all, a marriage to help your family, a marriage of convenience.

“Armitage?” He nearly toppled over in his haste to turn back and face you, to gaze upon your face as you swept a stray strand of hair from your cheek. “Will I see you later?” His mind tripped over itself as he ran through all the tasks he had to do. Usually he stayed up all hours, taking advantage of the lack of time that was out here in space, ignoring the First Order days and hours the ship ran on, the forced sunrises and sunsets meant nothing to him. Until now.

“Yes.” He found himself answering. “Yes, I could join you for dinner?” The smile you bestowed upon him was just as lovely as he remembered, and it created an even stronger reaction this time, his stomach almost flipping over in response.

“I would like that, very much.” He nodded, turning and leaving before he embarrassed himself anymore. It wasn’t until the door closed behind him that he allowed the breath he’d been holding to expel from his lungs. He straightened his tunic, smoothing the material, feeling his tight hold on control falling back into place. The first thing he needed to do was get Ren off this ship and he didn’t care how.

[zosonils]

surely post some autistic ferb things for us all,,,,,,

hell yeah anon!! here’s an absolute hell dump of Ferb Autism Indulgence Things because i have really been wanting to get my grubby little autistic hands all over him lately

his special interests are engineering and tetris [which is the game he’s internationally ranked in!]

he stims vocally by humming or repeating other vocalisations, but rarely with actual words

if he’s too nervous to vocalise/just not in the mood he goes for small hand movements to stim like clicking pens or tapping his fingers

he does flappy hands/arms when he has a lot of excitement to release! otherwise he prefers to stick to smaller/more subtle motions for a variety of reasons

he only repeats actual words as echolalia, almost always off of either phineas or perry! that thing they do where perry chatters and the boys mimic it and they all just loop off each other for a while is absolutely an echolalia loop for all of them [yes even the platypus]

a very epic headcanon i have is that owca agents are typically labelled as having therapy animal training to give them some more wiggle room with showing intelligence, so perry is officially a therapy platypus for the flynn-fletcher kids, especially the boys. ferb does the aforementioned echolalia chatter thing with perry and also just generally finds him extremely comforting to hold. of course perry’s figured out all of ferb and his siblings’ needs by observation and makes sure to subtly be as comforting as possible for his kids, especially if they’re having a meltdown and need to hold someone who won’t try to talk to them

ferb genuinely dislikes communicating verbally, due to a combination of general social anxiety, struggling to translate his thoughts into words, and finding it physically uncomfortable to talk. it’s not serious enough to prevent him from cracking a joke or vocalising his thoughts every once in a while, but he prefers to be nonverbal as much as possible and communicate through gestures and body language

throughout the series he only ever speaks on his own terms and as much as he’s comfortable with, so it comes out without issue, but if he’s forced to talk when he doesn’t want to or while he’s under stress he struggles to string sentences together and stutters really badly. fortunately he’s got nice friends and a great family so this issue rarely presents itself, although it comes up sometimes during the school year in battles with pissy neurotypical teachers over oral presentations

over time he starts to work past the discomfort [genuinely, it’s on his own terms as opposed to masking to get allistics off his back] so that by the time he’s an adult he can hold an entirely verbal conversation for a decent while before it drains him, but he still tends to avoid speaking if he can

phineas instinctively understands ferb’s silent emotional cues, a lot better than he understands most people’s [but that’s a whole other infodump lmao], and unless ferb actively indicates that he wants to talk for himself phineas usually speaks for both of them and translates any of ferb’s less neurotypically obvious signals

phineas and ferb made The Ultimate Fidget Cube as one of their daily projects [they were being mass produced for an hour or two and then something or other happened, there was a mobile phone and an avalanche of instant noodles, long story short only the handful they made for themselves and their friends are left now] and neither of them go anywhere without it

ferb doesn’t have any specific comfort/security objects but he feels significantly more at ease if he’s got some kind of tool in his hand or within reach [or, failing an actual building-stuff tool, anything he can hold and Do Something with, like a pen or his fidget cube or a video game controller], and is a lot more stimmy with his hands and generally anxious if he isn’t holding something

perry performs the task of comfort item better than any inanimate objects but platypi aren’t allowed to come to school even if they’re very polite :(

believe me the brothers have tested this numerous times

school is stressful for ferb because it fires up his sensory overload and is usually where he’s forced to do some neurotypical shit that upsets him, but his friends always have his back and linda and lawrence are definitely super involved in making sure their kids’ needs are met and respected by their teachers, so he manages pretty well unless something really bad happens to set him off

he’s susceptible to sensory overload, mostly with bright lights, sudden noises, and being touched. the light and sound involved in many of his and phineas’ projects is alright because he usually designed them and knows exactly when they’ll come on and what it’ll be like, but if he doesn’t have that prediction available he freaks out easily. being touched [especially without warning] is the absolute fucking worst and he almost invariably flips out if someone unfamiliar tries to touch him or he’s hit with an unexpected sensation he doesn’t like

he only rarely has meltdowns because he’s good at self-regulating when he needs to and his friends and family know what does and doesn’t fly with him, but when he does they’re often triggered by either sensory overload or being forced to talk

when ferb starts entering meltdown territory his verbal skills are the first thing to shut off, and if it gets worse he usually stops communicating altogether and enters a really bad dissociative state that he won’t come out of until he feels safe again and can be carefully brought back to his senses

standard procedure for ferb meltdowns is to get him a weighted blanket and some tea and a perry if you can find the slippery little bugger, let him snap back to reality at his own pace, and once he can communicate his needs again pay extra close attention to them until he calms down enough that he can properly self-regulate again

his favourite sensations are weight/pressure, the funky bumpy shit perry’s tail has going on, and anything soft!

most of his clothes [including his usual outfit in the show] are tight-fitting but made out of soft fabric for maximum comfy

the blanket on his bed is a weighted one, but if he’s too far from his room or it’s too hot to be comfortable under a blanket sometimes he’ll just find the tightest spot he can wedge himself into without getting hurt or stuck and squish himself in there to calm down a bit

his favourite food texture is crunchy stuff, and he samefoods with particular cereals and sandwich combos that rotate every few months when he finally gets tired of the exact same breakfast and lunch every day and wants slightly different identical meals

while he’s fine with variation from day to day, he’s very firmly attached to the summer/weekend formula of wake up > cereal > big idea > where’s perry > [building montage] > mom holy fuck > sandwich > [having fun montage] > our fuckoff massive contraption has vanished somehow > oh there you are perry > snacks > nondescript vibing > dinner > bed time, and if this schedule gets significantly thrown off it really bothers him

ferb shows his emotions more subtly than neurotypicals, which can make him seem hard to read, but his external emotional range is still extremely distinct - he just expresses it in atypical ways sometimes!

one of his most notable atypical emotional cues is that thing he does when he’s startled and he pulls his hands up - he does this in we call it maze when candace falls over on her skates in the beginning, split personality when busting candace scares him, lost in danville when he’s worried another capsule might fall on him or phineas, and the phineas and ferb effect during how do i do it when milo’s exercise bike crashes, just to name a few instances! this boy has Unique Emotional Cues and i love him for it so much

he’s better at reading emotions than phineas [as low as that bar is], but sometimes misses more subtle cues and doesn’t quite trust his ability to read anyone aside from phineas, candace, and his closest friends

he’s been aware that he’s neurodivergent ever since he was diagnosed as a little kid [he was first diagnosed with autism when he was extremely baby, not even three years old, and had it continually reconfirmed as he got older] and he’s been entirely happy with being autistic for as long as he’s known what that even means, with this only being reinforced as he found siblings and made friends with other autistic kids :)

good lord this is such an infodump i’m sorry i just love my son so very much and have been feeling particularly self indulgent today ;<;

[gagmebucky]

[bad boy!bucky. teasing. kitten.]

“You’re fuckin’ responsive,” he answers himself, half-bemoaned like he can’t believe it, “like no one’s treated your little kitty like she deserves. But that’s okay ‘cause I’m here, and I’m gonna make it all better, kitten.” The last bit is a crooned promise. “Want me to fingerfuck your tight heat until you’re sobbing into the middle of my hand, don’t you?”

in which you’re supposed to tutor bucky but he has other plans. (includes bad boy!bucky x shy!reader, bucky’s pov, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, fingering, mild exhibitionism and voyeurism.)

do not repost.

—

“Shouldn’t you be closer?” Bucky quirks a quizzical eyebrow from across the library table, lips slanted in the faintest of smirks, resisting a full blown show of teeth lest he intimidate you further. 

Stacked shelf to shelf, the book-laden expanse is desolate on an eight o’clock evening. The maze of literature has a plethora of tables and chairs on in-house reading; of which, the both of you are stationed at one. At the farthest corner of the room, he’s moored you in a coven of privacy: obscured from the front desk by towers of wood and bound paper. 

At the opposing head of the rectangular surface, you look up; the first glance in ten minutes since arriving for the studying session as you procrastinated under the guise of arranging the work space. Your wide eyes connect with his, and you swallow. “I. . . I,” you stammer before clearing your throat and nodding. “Yes. I - I suppose I should.” 

His fingers flex subconsciously at the anticipation of having you within reach. “Okay, c’mon,” he encourages, settling forward as he pats the open seat beside him. “I won’t bite, kitten.” Before he can control himself, a smirk upturns his naturally redden lips, words drawling out like gravel, “Unless, of course, you want me to.” 

Your pretty face darkens a bashful shade, and your mouth opens then shuts. You diligently gather your materials, fumbling some underneath the intensity of his carnivorously blue gaze. Once you’ve packed up your textbook and writing utensils, you grapple them to your chest. “I am just your tutor, James, and all we’ll be doing is studying,” you state, hushed and insistent, almost as if to convince yourself. 

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, his teeth following to nibble on them before releasing. “Whatever you say, kitten,” he claims, but there’s a covetous glint in his dilated pupils that says otherwise.

Albeit with hesitation, you pad down to the chair directly diagonal from him and sit. A unique lull of vanilla and cinnamon greet his senses, another intoxicating whiff when you flip your physics book open to a chapter about electromagnetic waves. 

After skimming it with your eyes, you straighten. “Okay, um,” you say without looking at him. “Are you sure you want me to tutor you? Because it’s not my major, and I’m only getting a B—”

“I’m sure.” 

Unbeknownst to you—and to anyone who looks at him—he’s getting an A in Introduction to Cosmology. The thing is, he heard you’re one of the volunteer tutors; what’s a better way to get to know you than through deceiving you into being alone with him in a nearly empty library. 

A part of him feels guilty for that but it’s a necessary evil. Utilizing your predilection for helping others, he’s finally gotten you on your own. With your generally skittish personality, amplified when it comes to a roguish reputation like his, it was his only course of action. And he’s wanted this, wanted you for awhile now. 

Ever since he’s seen you in the front row of class, jotting down line and line of lecture, catching glimpses of your face buried in a book underneath the campus tree, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. But upon approaching you, you were all stuttering and clumsily running away. 

Turns out, his capable temper and brazenly illicit activities are more infamous than he initially thought. Which he should feel proud about, not annoyed by. But given its fault in thwarting his courting of you, there’s a flicker of agitation. 

That particular emotion is simmering with every second he inhales your bewitching aroma and eyes your beauty up-close. Warmly dimmed lights cast down a glow on your face, the shadow of your cheekbones, the length of your fluttering lashes. Your eyebrows are pinched cutely in concentration as you scan over his error-ridden homework, pink tongue peeking against your upper lip. 

God. You’re so cute. But in a way that makes him want to sheathe himself inside you as deep as possible and watch you writhe around on his cock beneath him. 

His jaw locks briefly as desire pits in his stomach. And, he knows he’s staring, an intensity of hunger display within his shark-like eyes. Undoubtedly, you see through his storming oceanic pools and know that there’s a gluttony of dastardly impulses flashing through his mind; carnal movies starring you and him in the leading roles. 

For the millionth time, you clear your throat. “S - so, I think we should go over the easy ones first. Then we - we. . .” you fumble over your instruction when his hand finds its way on your thigh, squeezing lightly through your skirt. You gulp and spare a nervous glance around then whisper, “What are you d - doing?” 

“Trying to learn,” he answers casually, moving his hand to slip underneath the fabric. He withholds a sound at the soft smoothness contrasting against his rough palm. Gauging your reaction, the shiver that slithers down your spine but the alarm widening your big eyes, he stills in place, tracing lazy circles with his thumb. “Aren’t you gonna help me, kitten?” 

You nod quickly. “Y - yes, of course.” You shuffle in your chair but he keeps a steady hold on you. “What I was saying is that, we’ll go slow then when you understand the basics, we’ll go f - faster with some harder problems.” 

“You know, I’m the type of person who prefers to go fast. I like to go in all at once, no preparation. . .” He licks his bottom lip. “Fast and hard. You think you can handle that, kitten?” On cue with the pet name, he glides his palm up your sensitive inner thighs, inching to where you’re radiating heat. 

Immediately, you gasp. “J - James!” you admonish a little too loudly and drop your pen to seize his wrist as it fixes between the cradle of your hips. “I - I’m trying to tutor you; what are you d - doing?” Despite the appalledness of your voice, your hips are instinctively bucking into the stimulation. 

“I’m listening,” he insists innocently, tilting his head as if perplexed by your fidgeting. “Is there something wrong? D’you need to use the bathroom?” 

You gnaw on your bottom lip, clearly crossed between calling him out and brushing it off. To his lucky surprise, you chose the latter. “L - let’s begin, then.” You relinquish his wrist and focus on the work splayed out on the table. “The test is coming up, and you’ll need to memorize the equations so - so—” When his hand reaches your panties and his index finger draws lines up and down your slit with the faintest of touches, you jolt, gasping, “James, we’re supposed to be studying!” 

The look on your face, he can't get enough of it: embarrassment attempting to cover the need shining in your sparkling eyes. “I am.” He chuckles huskily as he undulates his fingertips along your cloth-clad slit. “I’m studying your little pussy. And you wanna know what I notice right off the bat?” he questions like you can respond but you’re too busy shoving a fist in your mouth and smothering sounds as he goes to work. 

He kneads your sex crudely, manipulating the weeping flesh through soaked cotton between his fingers. He hasn’t touched you for more than a minute, and you’re already a puddle against the chair—slicked up and primed for something to fill up that tight hollowness inside you. 

“You’re fuckin’ responsive,” he answers himself, half-bemoaned like he can’t believe it, “like no ones treated your little kitty like she deserves. But that’s okay ‘cause I’m here, and I’m gonna make it all better, kitten.” The last bit is a crooned promise. “Want me to fingerfuck your tight heat until you’re sobbing into the middle of my hand, don’t you?”

As you nod with fluttering lashes, he bypasses your underwear and palms your hot, soft mound. A moan vibrates through his throat at the same time you squeal. He beelines for your clit, swollen and just begging for abuse—which he’s more than happy to provide, to wear the tiny bundle of nerves out until you just can’t stop shaking. 

The mere image of your cute self undone like that in the public has all the blood rushing to his cock and straining for release; for you to give him that release but that’s not his aim right here and now. Right here and now, it’s about corrupting someone as sweet and good as you—to be the blackguard that unravels you like candy bar and eats you whole. 

“G - god. That’s good,” you whimper, raking your nails down his muscular forearms, and he’ll wear the red marks with pride in the future. You survey the surroundings but he can’t care less about whether someone’s watching. “James. H - hold on—” 

He pauses and lifts a brow because you’re still rutting into his caress like a dog in heat. “You really want me to stop, kitten? ‘Cause your sexy body is telling me otherwise.” If you want him to stop, he has zero qualms about doing it; he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get you in your entirety. 

You shake your head. “N - no. I - I like it,” you whisper shyly, blinking those hypnotizing orbs at him. “But—”

Cutting you off, a familiar voice rings out, “Hey!” Deep and annoyingly authoritative, he identifies the blond librarian’s baritone pitch. Heavy footsteps on hardwood became louder as a build rivaling Bucky intevenes. “I heard someone yell—” 

Bucky grunts. “We’re just fine, Rogers.” He punctuates the word by parting a finger past your tumescented folds, sliding in with a curved angle until he hears your muffled but telltale choke that he's about to stroke your g-spot. A smirk curls into his lips as you slump in your seat, arms braced around your head to hide your face. “Oh, yeah. We’re doing great.” 

Steve narrows his eyes and folds his arms, nonverbally saying he won’t be brushed off that easily. “Am I seriously supposed to trust someone like you, Barnes?” he retorts with a scoff and takes a step closer to examine you. 

Which, if it were anyone else, he’d tell them to fuck off before he makes them. In this case, however, he’s knuckle deep inside you, and he sorta wants Steve to know that. In Bucky’s failed attempts to pursue you, he noticed that his childhood frenemy had also developed feelings for you, but is too daft to act on them. So, there’s some satisfaction in showing him you’re literally wrapped around his finger.

Your channel possesses him like a vice, practically gushing with every slow thrust, fevered like the contents of a volcano, and soft like silk; he knows you’ve been made to be seated around his cock. And with that conviction in his head, he’s going to show you off proudly.

“Kitten, why don’t you tell Stevie here that I’m taking good care of you?” Bucky purrs in your ear, gaze connected with the fiery depths of Steve’s. “Just reassure him that I’m handling my perfect little kitty just like she needs.” 

It takes you a minute to gather yourself—not that it helps—then you raise your head. Your face is dazed in unmistakable desire, a shimmering sheen of sweat around your forehead, pupils blown wide. “I - I’m fine,” you croak, a tone away from being a moan. “James is h - helping me.”

Satisfaction fills him, and he has to share how pleased he is with you. Keeping the heel of his palm flushed against your clit, the texturized pad of his finger rasps over that soft spot inside you over and over, speed quickening every time, making you sporadically spasm around him. 

The sensations hit you at once because you coil yourself into his embrace, trembling with your nose pressed into his chest, and his other arm huddles you close while his fingers play you like a fiddle. His black t-shirt does a decent job of suppressing your pleasure-heavy cries, but in a library setting, the noises are unmistakable. 

In shock—jealousy or arousal, both probably—Steve takes a step back, eyes like moons and lips parted as he watches the girl he has a crush on shudder and sob in the throes of orgasm within the arms of his frenemy. All the time, Bucky’s remain on his, an infuriating smirk upturned on his lips. 

Because he’s an asshole, he ducks down to stage-whisper in your ear, “That’s it, kitten. Squeeze my fingers, show me how tight you’ll feel bouncing on my cock. Be a good girl for me, and do exactly what I say.” Your cries crescendo, and your channel twitches warningly. “There she goes. You’ve got the softest, littlest, wettest pussy, don’t you, kitten? And I’m the only one who gets to have you, right?” 

Along with a nod, there’s a distinct bleat of, “Y - yes!” And that snaps Steve out of his perverse trance, blinking back into reality, and spinning on his heels to storm off, probably to jerk off or punch something. Either way, Bucky’s having the best time he’s had in awhile, and it’s all thanks to you. 

You bite into his pectoral through the blend of polyester and cotton when you cum, a sting that he absolutely loves. Your velvet walls pulsate and throb as you flood his hand, your whole body vibrating with the force that upheaves you. 

He rocks you through it: repeatedly cooes of “Good, kitten,” and waning strokes of his fingers, holding you snugly. Once the convulsions have stopped, he pops his finger free and sucks it clean. At the taste, a groan wrenches through his throat, and the urge to get on his knees and lap at the source dominates him. 

Blearily, you look up at him, all timid and such. And he feels his heart melt. “I don’t want you to fail,” you blurt out. “I’m sorry!” 

He cracks a grin. “It’s fine. I’m doing good in that class, anyway.” He cups your cheek. “I just wanted to hang out with you. Why don’t we get something to eat, and then later, I’ll eat you?” 

Although flustered, you nod with a small smile. “O - okay.”

[masterlist / feedback]

[ayo-cowbelly]

The Things We Do For Love ~ Part Two

previous part ~ next part ~ masterlist

FIRST OF ALL: I’d recommend listening to music during this one. Here are my choices, but it’s not required (don’t have to listen to all of them):

my tears ricochet by Taylor Swift. Found here.

Ghost of You by 5SOS. here is the link.

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) by Nancy Sinatra. Can be found here.

Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi, found here.

All songs available on iTunes and I think Spotify as well.

Oh, by the way: completely made up the story of Aayla getting her kyber crystal. There wasn’t a canonical one i could find in a quick google search (yes, i know, didn’t put in much effort searching for it, sue me) so i decided to make up my own for the plot™. 

I cried writing this, people. There are tears falling. Not joking. This cuts DEEP. I promised angst™ and I am following through *cackles in palpatine*. this is meant to hurt, and oh boy, it definitely hurts.

So… have fun lovelies.

***

Cody was very, very grateful his Jedi survived. 

Most, like Bly, were not so lucky. 

***

Bly had mixed feelings about Felucia. 

First of all, it was hot. And humid. And smelly (even with his helmet on). That combination, plus having to fight all day on top of that, did not put Felucia on the list of Bly’s preferred planets. 

Though… there was a slight upside. 

He liked to look at the plants. They were bizarre, sure, but the colors. Bly always had an appreciation for color. Growing up on Kamino, where everything was sterile and white and cold... the first time Bly left that planet and saw Coruscant, he was astounded at how bright and warm different shades could be. 

And then he saw Aayla, and she gave a whole new meaning to the color blue. 

Aayla was warm, but professional; spirited, but calm. And positively beautiful. 

He had practically fallen head over heels the first time they talked (even though he had no idea what to call this sudden, powerful feeling in him). His brothers, of course, took it upon themselves to tease him mercilessly; but what they didn’t know was a tidbit of information that always took Bly by surprise, no matter how many times he heard it. 

She felt the same way. 

***

It started about 3 months after the crash on Maridun, when even though nothing had happened yet, it was apparently painfully obvious there was something there. Rex had noticed, at least, and decided to tell Bly’s batchmates when they saw each other at 79’s.

Bly just couldn’t catch a break. 

But then, when their battalion had been stationed on Ilum (due to rumors of the droids targeting the caves where Jedi got their kyber crystals) and him and Aayla had stayed up late, sitting on either side of a small fire, and Aayla told the tale of how she got her crystal. 

“It’s called The Gathering. We are told it is when we truly begin our paths as Jedi. I was freezing, and nervous that somehow I’d mess it up. Ironic, considering what the lesson is about; getting over our personal fears. I was worried that I wouldn’t make it in time- we are given only a few hours, and when daylight ends, the door to the crystal cave freezes over again. If someone was trapped inside, they’d be stuck in there for 19 days, until the sun rises again. 

“Along with Master Yoda, six of us were sent off to this very planet, and there is no place more sacred to our Order. This is where we locate the heart of our lightsabers.” 

“How do you get the crystal, exactly?” Bly had asked, genuinely interested. 

Aayla smiled fondly, reminiscing. “Some might say our crystals are sentient, in a way. They call out to us in the caves. Only we know which one is ours. There is a powerful convergence in the Force there, causing it to be intensified. It exploits the insecurities of a person, exposing our weaknesses. If we successfully overcome these shortcomings, then we obtain our crystal.”

“What happens if you don’t pass the test?” 

“It is said that fear, self-doubt, they consume you. This can prevent someone from finding their crystal.” 

“That sounds like a very… taxing experience, to say the least, General.” Bly looked at her then, and saw her laugh slightly, and his heart stuttered. That unknown feeling rose up in him again, until he tamped it down. 

“It is, but a good one all the same.” 

He smiled at her. “So, how did your test go?” 

“Like I said, I was nervous-”

“Since when are you nervous about anything, General?”

“Call me Aayla, please, Bly, it’s just the two of us,” the way she smiled at him then… it made his heart swim. “And I tell you, I was terrified. I hoped it’d be easy, and figured if I just ran ahead I’d find it soon enough. And of course, that didn’t happen.” 

Aayla jogged through the labyrinth, careful not to slip. The icy atmosphere of the cave overtook her, and she felt like she would freeze. At least running kept her somewhat warm. 

She had ended up on her own a while ago, wanting to take control of this experience and just get the crystal on her own. Aayla wanted it to be over. It was too cold, and she didn’t want to fail and be trapped. Get in, get the crystal, get out, she told herself. 

Her instincts told her to make a right turn, and she came upon a small gap in the ice at the end, just big enough for her to get through. She debated whether or not she should enter, but the Force seemed to sing around her when she neared it.

She squeezed through the opening, and on the other side, there was a small clearing. In the middle, a mound of ice rose from the floor, about up to her hips. Something glowed at the top, and the Force got louder, more insistent. It must be her crystal. 

When she went to grab it, the crystal remained stuck within the ice. As she pulled, it stayed firmly in place.

When she tried to pull on the crystal with the Force, it only seemed to sink deeper into the ice, somehow. How was she to get the crystal if it wouldn’t move when she wanted it to? 

What if it doesn’t come out? Aayla asked herself. She had been in the crystal cave for a good amount of time, and she didn’t have forever. Her time would be up soon. 

Rolling on her heels, she looked back at the gap that would lead her back to the main part of the maze. She grew more and more upset, her stomach churning. The stupid ice wouldn’t budge! The door would be closed soon, and she’d be trapped, and she’d fail-

No. Aayla had to trust in the Force. There must be a way to obtain the crystal, of this she was positive. She just had to figure out how. She’d have to calm herself to think clearly. 

Easier said than done. 

Taking deep breaths, Aayla reached out into the Force. If a part of her doubted this being her kyber crystal before, it didn’t now. The Force felt like it was smiling around her, somehow. Despite the cold of the cave, she felt warm. A thin thread existed between her and the crystal, and the Force trilled in her ear when she felt it. 

She closed her eyes. The Force would guide her. 

The warm feeling seemed to grow, washing through her and swirling around her in the air. Aayla’s lips turned up slightly, and she felt the brightness of the Force around her. 

There was a vague cracking sound, and she heard whistling fill the room. Slowly opening her eyes, Aayla was blown away at the sight in front of her. 

She watched, transfixed, as the crystal glowed brighter and brighter. The ice had broken, the pieces floating in the air. The kyber crystal levitated, an alluring blue shade. 

Aayla approached and grabbed the crystal, smiling giddily. She had done it. 

She squeezed back through the gap and walked calmly (well, more like speed walked, but she did it calmly) and exited the cave. 

“That was the first time I realized that sometimes you have to give up control to think clearly. Stressing will not achieve anything. Trusting in others, in the Force, having faith that they will guide you; that is how we can move forward.” 

“So, the Force guides you? It tells you things you need to know?” 

“In a way. It’s like… a feeling. Not something tangible, really, but a sort of presence that leads you where you need to go. It’s hard to get a clear answer, most of the time.” 

Bly wondered... “Can it do the same for people?”

“Yes, sometimes,” She looked up at him, with something in her eyes that he couldn’t place, but took his breath away all the same. 

“And… what does it say about me?” He asked, quietly, not wanting to ruin this moment. 

“Like I said, it’s hard to get a clear answer from the Force,” Aayla moved to sit by him, a soft expression on her face. She looked into his eyes, closer to him than she had ever been… if she moved a fraction, then… 

“But with you, it’s never felt more right.” She placed her lips on his, and the feeling in his chest finally had a name. 

Love. 

***

They trekked through Felucia, Aayla in front, as always. She was used to it, now, after three years in this war. 

At first, it had been stressful, which was to be expected. She didn’t know how to lead a whole battalion, how to fight a war, how to deal with the trauma said war brought. However, she always had Bly. 

Aayla loved him fiercely, and made sure to tell him whenever she could. He was brave, and dedicated, and strong, and she was eternally thankful for him. For the joy he brought her. 

And soon, in a few months, there’d be one more person they’d care for just as much. She had known for about a month. And Bly, knowing her so well after all this time, had suspected something was up. When she told him, she had never seen someone smile so wide. The pure happiness he projected into the Force was something she had only ever felt with him. 

Thankfully, she wasn’t showing yet, meaning she still had time to figure out a long term plan. Of course, there had been some rumors that the war would be over soon, which hopefully were true. Aayla and Bly had decided that they’d leave together, go somewhere peaceful, where they could simply live. Just her, him, and their child. 

Aayla paused, sensing something… off filling the Force. Suddenly, she couldn’t sense her Commander, his presence different, like everything that made him Bly was gone. 

“Do you think it’s droids, Bly?” She asked tentatively, knowing that wasn’t the answer, but it was the only thing she could think of. 

“No.” 

The voice that answered her was not Bly. It was not the voice of the man she loved, of her riduur. It was a stranger, both in person and in the Force. 

Aayla glanced around, seeing her troopers circling her. Confusion, uncertainty, fear... (something she had never felt around her men- something she never should have known around them, around him) they raced through her. She looked to Bly, as she always did, and back to the men… 

And then pain, hurt, betrayal, both hers and the Force’s, they consumed her. Her last thoughts were of Bly, of their child. 

Aayla knew she would die, as her troopers shot her continuously. She apologized to her unborn baby, who, in another life, she would have given all her love to. 

As she already did for him. 

***

When Bly came to (not came to, as that would imply he was unconscious, and he most definitely was not) he was met with his worst nightmare. 

Aayla’s body, limp on the ground, her back covered in blaster wounds. The vibrant blue skin was barely visible, covered in smoking, gray holes- 

He had put them there. 

No. 

He- he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. Never. 

But he already had. He had seen it. Watched it. 

It was like Bly was trapped in a cell, unable to escape. CC-5052 had taken over his body, casting him aside. He heard her voice, but he couldn’t make out what she said. Though it was laced with… fear. That much he could understand.

Run, Aayla, Please, he shouted, though nothing came out. Run, and don’t look back. But she didn’t run.

The only sound that escaped him was a voice that wasn’t his own, saying just one word, the last word she’d ever hear from him- 

He watched from inside his mind as he (but not him, he would never, please, please no, AAYLA-) raised his weapon and fired. 

In his head, he pounded on the cell and screamed.

*** 

Bly watched from the side as two troopers covered Aayla’s body with a blanket. None of them could stand to look at her, at what they’d done, but they couldn’t leave her. She’d never leave them if their roles were flipped. 

Except they weren’t flipped. She would never kill them, let alone hurt them, and she had trusted them not to- 

Dark thoughts filled his head. But he didn’t have the strength to push them away. They were true, after all. 

He killed her. And their child. The two things he loved most in this galaxy were destroyed by his own hands. 

And any future he had dreamt of went with them. 

*** 

The 327th stayed on Felucia for that night and the next, trying to figure out what they were to do. The holonet said the war was over, that the Separatists were no more, that the Republic was an Empire now… and the Jedi were traitors. 

But they weren’t. They were protectors. They protected the Republic, protected their troops- who had been the ones to shoot them down-

The men were also trying to give Bly some space before bringing up any future plans. They had all known that something was going on between him and the General. It was they way they looked at each other; even the newest shiny could see the thinly veiled love in their eyes. Nobody ever mentioned it, out of respect, but they knew- 

And if anyone didn’t, they figured it out at seeing his reaction to her body.

Bly collapsed on his knees next to her, ripping his helmet off, mumbling incoherently. All the other men could hear clearly was her name, over and over. 

He pulled her close, turning her over, running his hands over her face and body, tears spilling down his face as he held his riduur. 

“Aayla- no- please-” His voice cracked, his body shuddering. 

The others walked over, some putting their hands on his shoulders, some kneeling close by, others bowing their heads as their Commander- no, their brother- shattered.

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.

Not gone, merely marching far away.  

***

I’m sorry. 

Also, this story will actually have five parts. So… stay tuned! If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know.

Taglist:

@likeshootingstarsinthenightsky (you are amazing!! your comments give me life)

@cacodaemonia (again, tumblr won’t let me tag you, I don’t know why but your blog won’t show up when i try to tag, very sorry)

[craykei]

I’ve written this because I no longer know where you are . And I know you won’t want to listen to me if I ever found you . So this will be here for you .. so fate can have something to lead you toward .

This is for the significant wonder :

It’s been years .  And my recollection of you fades with time . Not that it’s my intention to erase my own memory .. I won’t forget events in my timeline, or any important words you spoke to me . But I want to preserve a part of you in my mind . It’s long overdue that I strike what I’ve built .. and lock the image .  Of you .

Do you know who you are ?

You may have forgotten .  Because you’re different today . But you used to be somebody .. unbelievable .   You were a dream come true .  Everyday . And a hope never lost .  Anchored heavily and true . You were real . I knew of your depth .. yet I dared not tread beyond shallow water . Your welcome was a warmth .. That would easily subdue the air around me . And continue to envelop my spirit .

You had me absolutely yours . Did you ever know ?

Your words so pure, my heart would have stopped at your slightest verbal command Should you ever speak it done . And you would be the only divine being on the surface of this earth Who could accelerate my heart to race again .. With nothing more than a simple glance .

Your beauty was a challenge to appreciate .. in truth it was a universe in itself . As it filled infinite dimensions .. composing an endless symphony . And its potential was far too immense to be held in the very world you lived in .

But I appointed myself to that solitary journey ..   And embarked on a chain of blissful discovery Of everything .   Everything inside of you .

And granted, if my heart took the greatest capacity of courage ..

Then maybe I’d know for sure If this is where I was truly meant to be .

Underneath the most stars I’d ever seen in my life . On a porch stairway foreign to me .. Sitting one step below, and an arm’s length away .. From the most beautiful girl .. ever to grace my life story .

We were there together .. and I was a nervous wreck . I couldn’t speak .  And I wouldn’t dare look your way . I was afraid my words would slip .. And I would tell you .. you’re beautiful . Then instantly end up despising myself for using such incompetent words . You had no idea .. It was the first time I’d ever experienced for myself .. The supreme elegance which moonlight has the power to reveal . In you .

I was no match for the velocity bound inside of me . It was inevitable that I would lose to it soon .. And something .  Just .. something .. would escape me .. And reach you . And you would finally know . That I loved you . … And it .. escaped . … My voice was a disaster when I said it . I was instantly overcome with embarrassment and a concave silence .. Awkwardness left me ready and waiting to stutter my next word .. Possibly an apology for my crude mannerism .. Or a chuckled diversion to typically break the tension .. I was at a most desperate and pitiful loss for action or dialogue . Until I looked up . And saw your face . You changed everything . It was the first time in the history of my existence That I stared into the eyes of my destiny . It was in that instance where time itself ..  had stopped . To let us live in that moment .  Just a little while longer . Your stare was strong .. piercing me and tearing me apart . You spoke to me very clearly .. only with those eyes . They reflected everything the sky had to offer . Even if my sense of hearing was immediately taken from me Right then and there .. It still could never stop me from understanding The response within your gaze . You loved me . And my heart soared ..  clear into the highest of heavens . You began to cry as you said it . And I shared that feeling with you .. We repeated ourselves over and over again .. Releasing an abundance of jailed emotion and destined words . I held you so close .. As if to cover and shield you from the world .. Bravely protecting you from all harm that exists . And that is what I did . From that night on . Thus began the birth of our relationship together . I loved every minute of it .

At times it was a struggle to find myself with you . But I hadn’t the slightest need to wonder why . An easy journey would lead me worthlessly elsewhere .. It made perfect sense to me .. that a girl of your value Could only be reachable beyond life’s most difficult obstacles . I worked my hardest .  Just to have that time by your side . All of what I owned could easily have been traded .. To acquire what I needed for you . Because you were appreciative . Of everything I did .  And everything I was . Do you remember .. I drove alone for seven hours .. No phone and no more than a few dozen dollars in my pocket .. Just to see you .. For an hour and a half . And it was seven more hours driving back home .. Lost in total happiness .. and weary swoon That I was able to feel your arms around me .. And your face burrowing softly against my chest . There was never a time where I was simply able to set my eyes on you .. Without being overcome with a heavy rain of joy .. From the thought that this lovely woman Of unimaginative elegance standing here before me .. Is truly mine to cherish . … We created a world together .. didn’t we . It seemed like the longest period in my life .. You and I were inseperable . Truly .. I loved you so . We achieved sweet perfection . Until the scale had to be balanced . I don’t know why we came to that point .. In which everything good began to slowly burn .. I’d always put myself up to be blamed .. for blaming you . But we both knew it wasn’t that simple .. Eventually .. I let go .. freeing my hold each day . Releasing you of that shield which protected your entire being .. And allowing the horrors you feared to swiftly reach you . You lowered yourself so much . Putting every ounce of pride away . Just to ask me to reconsider my departure . But I couldn’t . I was callous and cold . Steadfast and loyal to my decision . And I hated myself for a long time because of it . You experienced the worst disasters of your life . One .  After the other . And I was not there to help .. Because of my own horrible choice . You spiraled into a maze of despair, deception, and death . And your health unfortunately coincided with these dreadful events . The world around you blamed you for everything . And you could have easily turned the blame to me . But you didn’t .. You accepted it all didn’t you . I know you did . I just couldn’t believe that you still loved me that much . Literally .. you were the only person who’d ever told me You’d give your life for me .. And proved it . But you disappeared . Before I could find you to apologize .. You were gone . I searched non-stop for what seemed like forever . Only to find that we were no longer even on the same continent . You had been sent away . My hope . Had fled my being .  Only to be replaced by new fears . I had never known the feeling .. Of not being able to know for sure If the only person you care about in life .. is still living . I plunged into the deepest despondency I’d ever experienced . Possibly the only true depression I’d ever been bound within . It lasted for what seemed like a seperate lifetime .. Trudging through nights where I lay in utter silence Only to wake up to days where I quietly float through the hours . I hated myself .  And I hated everything . It was the last and only time I’d ever felt this way . As the months crept by ever so slowly .. I met someone who understood . Somebody who only wanted to help .  And she did .  Somewhat successfully . And I moved on . Meanwhile .. you were there .  Away and across the globe . Never had a way of contacting me whatsoever .. but you never lost any hope . Still just as in love .. and working diligently to somehow find your way back to me . The possibility that I’m still looking for you .. Was the strongest motivation that kept you going . But word somehow found its way to you . And you heard I moved on . And it killed you .

After another year .. you were finally able to come back . And you contacted me . Do you remember how thrilled I was ? I was so relieved to know you were still alive and well . Physically . But your heart had been broken .  And your spirits darkened . And you were hurting so much . I felt the sadness I’d caused you .. And even felt the happiness you still wanted for me . You never did give up on putting me first . And I hated how you were so perfect . Unreasonable to the core .  Yet unselfish by nature . I wanted to be like you in that sense . And I wanted to find a way to somehow see you happy again . You eventually moved on . Found somebody in an unexpected atmosphere .. And he did hold you dear . …… We never spoke more often than once every 4 months or so .. And I was always eager to hear your good news . I loved to hear how much you cared about him . And about how your family was doing so much better . It brought me so much happiness to listen to you share these things with me . We carried on this way for quite some time, didn’t we . Rarely ever talking to each other .. and always by total chance . You seemed to be slightly different .. But I always felt like .. the old you was in there somewhere . Until your relationship had failed . I’m so sorry . Please believe that it brought me no happiness to learn of your misfortune . You were mistreated terribly .. and for awhile you allowed yourself to be blamed . Just like always . Taking the nobility route . But you eventually took note of his error .. And you were able to realize your innocence in the matter . … That’s when you changed . … You no longer wished to speak to me . When I tried my best to talk to you .. I was only responded to with hostility .. And annoyance .  And cruelty . It was all so sudden . I surely could not understand why you had become so cold-hearted towards me . Out of everything I’d been through with you .. This was brand new . I contacted you to ask how you were doing .. And it only upset you . You spoke to me rashly and casually .. cursing and being coarse Like never before .. as if I was a nobody to you .. Or a nobody to everybody . I felt as if you had totally shifted .  And I was afraid to know the truth . You were like a completely different or rather, opposite person . Or maybe you just forgot .. who I used to be to you . This was the last time I’d spoken to you . …..   ….. And also .. a leading motivator in composing this letter of sorts . Believe me .. I will not act as though I truly understand you now . But I will also keep myself from being anymore of a bother to you . And I know I made you aware of that upon our last conversation . I just wanted to let you know .. I am finally ready to close this chapter in the book of my life . After everything we had been through .. which was indeed valuable .. I guess this is where our story ends . I just wanted you to have a final understanding toward my definition of our time together . I will not immortalize you in my mind as a terrible person . You will be one of the very few people I will forever remember . Please accept these parting words . You will always be inside my definition of ‘beautiful’ . Even though you may dislike me or no longer care for me .. There will always be a special place for you in my heart and memory . A place that has been crafted by you .. during the period in which we existed as one . You are loved .  By an entire world of people . Don’t ever doubt your worth .  You are absolutely priceless . Any man who does not see that .. is not even worthy of your eye contact . Your way to success clearly exists .  Please do not give up on yourself . Extraordinary things require hard work to reach .  And I learned that through you . Be honest with yourself .  You deserve the best of all things . Don’t ever be ashamed of your wonderful smile . And please don’t second-guess your beauty . Never allow yourself to be abused .. you must be treated as the queen you are . Aim beyond what you expect for yourself .  You’re far greater than that . I won’t be finding myself in your life any longer so I sure hope I’ve said all that’s necessary .  I’m sure I’ve covered all that I wanted to assess . I know this isn’t the best way to convey such strong emotion .. but if you’re meant to know these things, then I know you’ll find your way here naturally . And since you probably won’t want to talk to me .. I’ve left all of this here for you to read at your own pace .. if you choose to read it at all . Have a great life .. wherever you are .  And good luck with whatever you’re doing . I hope you’re well .. If there’s one mental picture to keep .. Let it be the moment we shared On the porch steps of your house . Underneath the most stars I’d ever seen in my entire life . Thank you for showing them to me . And thank you for teaching me to be a better person .

Thus concludes .. the story of us .

[balledjely]

Rotten Work - Part Five

Haikyuu X Reader -  Part One, Part Four

It’s the end of the training camp, and you can’t help but feel anxious as you step off the bus with your teammates. Although, the Karasuno jacket pulled around you brought you some comfort. It made you feel like part of the team. 

You’d gotten it yesterday, when Kiyoko was handing out uniforms for the Nekoma game. When you got it you felt kind of disappointed. Unlike the girls’ uniforms, the guys’ uniforms felt baggy and made you look like a rectangle. But it can’t be helped, the uniforms weren’t meant to make you look pretty anyway. 

As your team started to make their way towards Nekoma high, you kept towards the back of the group. With this being your first game, you were nervous. And despite knowing that you were part of the team, you could help but feel out of place. 

“Aw sweet!” You hadn’t even noticed a kid from the other team looking over towards you. Instinctively, you step closer to Kiyoko. “Two female managers.” You eye the boy, seeing that he’s got a curly blonde Mohawk. He kind of reminds you of Tanaka. 

“Um, actually…” You try to think of a way to correct him without being awkward. Anxiety swirls in your chest, and you shrink lower into the jacket. It was one of the first times that someone’s height was making you nervous. “I’m not a manager…” How do you explain this situation without it getting weird? 

“Yeah,” Tanaka suddenly appears behind you. He gives the other boy a hard glare. “What do you want with our libero?” As the two boys glare at each other, Kiyoko gently takes your arm and leads you away. As you two walk away, you hear something about a ‘rumble’. 

After following Kiyoko into the school, you split off from her to go find the bathrooms. After wandering around for a couple minutes, you finally find one. Only, once you’re finished, you can’t seem to remember the way back. You start to panic, trying to map out the way back in your head. After a moment, you calm yourself down. You can just text Daichi, right? He’ll find you and bring you back. 

When you reach for your phone, it’s not there. You mentally curse the uniforms for not having any pockets. Who’s idea was that? The panic comes back and it comes back hard. What if you were late to the game? How the hell would you explain that?

In the midst of your panic, you hardly notice the boy walking up behind you. “You okay?” You jump at the sound of his voice, quickly turning around to face him. He looks down at you, “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You recognize him as the other team’s captain. Dear god, how did you manage to fuck up so horribly every time you go somewhere new?

“I’m fine, just uh, just lost.” 

He tilts his head, “Yeah, our school’s probably bigger than what you’re used to. Want me to take you back to the gym?”

You ignore his little jab at your ‘county’ school, much to anxious to try and bicker with him on that. You’re just happy that you’re not lost anymore.

“Yes, please.”

As you follow him down a maze of hallways, you feel the need to apologize to him. “I’m sorry if this made you go out of your way…” You mutter, fiddling with your hands. 

He glances back at you with a wide grin, “I’m always willing to rescue a damsel in distress.”

You’re feeling more comfortable now, so you finally respond to his teasing. “A damsel?” You question. He shrugs, and before you can question any farther, he swings open a door to reveal the gym. As you walk away you thank him again. 

When you arrive back to your team, Tanaka rushes up to you. “Was that guy hitting on you? Just say the word and I’ll teach him a lesson.” He does that thing where his face gets all serious. Somehow you don’t notice when Noya appears behind him. “Yeah, he can’t be flirting with you! You’re our cute girl.”

“Um, thanks for the compliment…” you trail off, deciding not to think about that too much, “Anyway, I got lost when I went to the bathroom. He was only helping me get back to the gym.”

Noya leans In close to you. “He didn’t say anything weird to you, did he?”

“No, I-” 

You’re saved when Suga drags the two away by their collars. “We’re supposed to be warming up!” He scolds, “You’ll make Daichi mad.”

When you start to warm up, you can feel eyes from every corner of the gym watching you with curiosity. It makes you feel anxious and kind of self conscious. As you’re handing Suga balls, he noticed your apprehension. 

“First game’s always hard. Once it starts though...” He trails off, staring out towards the stands. “It feels totally different.” You definitely knew what he was talking about- the rush you get when the crowds gasp in surprise. You can’t help but smile, “I know, but…”

“Hey,” Suga places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You’ll be fine.” Even though it’s not much, it definitely does calm you down, even if it’s only a little bit. 

You know he’s right, but you can’t stop the images of you face-planting in the middle of the game running through your head. “Yeah,” What’s worse is you'll be starting. Normally that’d be great and all, but that just means that everyone’s going to be watching you. 

You talked to Noya about it. When Coach announced it, you immediately felt guilty. You were taking the place of a really good second year, how could you not? But, when you brought it up he pretty much laughed at you. He was just excited to see you play. 

Daichi calls the team together to give a little pep talk. Though, it doesn’t do much to calm you down. Just before you walk onto the court, Noya grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you. “Fuck ‘Em up!”

“Nishinoya.” Daichi warns, glaring at him for manhandling you. 

“Ah, right sorry. Sometimes I forget.” He takes his hands off your shoulders, looking guilty. You shake your head, giggling, “It’s fine, really. Kinda makes me feel better. Makes it feel less serious…”

“Then I’ll touch you more!” He grins proudly before realizing what he said. Once he processes it, he flushes bright red. “I didn’t mean- I would never-” You laugh as he stutters, waving as you walk off onto the court. 

The game does not start well for you. Your revives are decent, but they aren’t great. You’re growing frustrated despite the constant reassurance from your team when you switch out. What really got you was a spike that you could’ve easily gotten, had you not been so focused on a different player. 

At that point, you locked eyes with the other team’s setter. You just knew that he could tell you were getting flustered. Once he knew that, it was pretty much over for you. Spikes were getting sent to you over and over again, until you lose the set. 

When the team gathers around for a water break before the next set, you take the chance to talk to Coach Ukai. He and Takada glances up at you as you make your way over to them. 

You shift your weight from side to side anxiously, “I think that Noya should take over as Libero for the rest of the game…”

Coach Ukai only looks at you with confusion, and Takada is the first to speak. “I may not know much about volleyball, but I do know that everyone has it rough during their first game, especially with a new team.” 

“It’s not just that though,” you glance over towards the other team, gaze resting on their setter. “I’m not very good with teams that focus on strategy…” you confess, “It trips me up, and I can’t follow like I normally do. I’m better with teams that just use raw power. I think Noya could handle the situation better than I can…”

Coach Ukai nods. He can tell you thought about this a lot, and he trusts that you know where your weakness lie. “That makes sense…” he trails off as he recounts how you’d been trying to follow the movements of the other team. Deep down, he’s a little upset that he didn’t pick up on that sooner, though he’s only seen you play for a couple of days. “Alright…” 

You smile and walk off as he calls Noya over. You can tell that your team is curious about your conversation, but everyone has enough sense to not question you. Everyone except Hinata, who tilts his head with curiosity, “What was that about?” 

“Noya’s better at this kind of thing, so he’s taking over for me.” You give them the simplest explanation, hoping that they won’t worry over you too much. 

Hinata gasps dramatically, “But I thought you were doing so good!” You smile and shake your head in response. He frowns, but lets it go. Everyone can tell you’re already tired of talking about it. You just hope they know that you know your worth. 

You spend the rest of the match on the sidelines, cheering for your team. But, it doesn’t seem to do much, as they end up losing the second set. Even though you know it’s not entirely your fault, you can’t help but feel that you’re to blame. 

Hinata manages to persuade Nekoma’s coach into playing two more games - both of which were lost in straight sets. By the time you were getting your stuff packed away, your voice was aching. 

Your team lined up outside the school, waving goodbye to Nekoma. Tanaka and his counterpart are sobbing, Daichi and Kuroo are staring each other down, and you’re quietly hanging out with Kenma. 

He apologized for targeting you so hard, which you shrugged off. “That’s  just the game. You’re a really good setter for being able to take advantage of situations like that.” 

He hums in response, and the two of you just sit together in a comfortable silence until Daichi calls the team together to get on the bus. You wave goodbye to Nekoma’s team from your window. Tsukki ends up being your bus buddy, and he rolls his eyes at your childishness. 

Even though the bus ride isn’t long, you end up drifting off. When the team sees you sleeping on Tsukki's shoulder, they immediately begin to tease him. 

“What do you want me to do, shove her off?” He mutters. 

At that, Noya nearly jumps out his seat. “You would never-!” He nearly yells, to which Tanaka slaps him upside his head. “Shut up, she’s sleeping!” 

Noya immediately regrets getting so loud, and leans over his seat to check to make sure you're still sleeping soundly, which you are. Tanaka and Noya spend the rest of the bus ride making sure no one gets too loud. 

When you arrive back at the school, Tsukki wakes you up. Though his voice is harsh, his gentle nudges are the complete opposite as he shakes you awake. 

You yawn, apologizing for falling asleep on him, to which he just huffs. The team continues to tease Tsukki as he and Tadashi split off to walk you home.

[the-fiction-witch]

Practice Boy

MOVIE MAZE RUNNER COUPLE NEWT X THOMAS (newtmas) RATING SMUT AF!!!

"ya alright Alby?" I heard a voice ask behind me

"hey greenie," Alby told me as he walked me around the glade "meet newt"

"'iya, that's quite a dash you made earlier, for a minute there might 'ave thought you 'ad the chops to be a runner... Till ya face planted"  he laughs "that was great"

"Hey newt do me a favour look after greenie for me"

"Sure," the blonde boy shrugs before tugging my arm with him "so what's your name then?"

"I Uhhh I don't remember" I told him

"It's alright, you get it back eventually" he shrugs "you remember anything else yet?"

"What do you mean?" I asked

"Any memories, any feelings, any... Attractions?" I blanked a little confused and shocked by his line of questioning "just asking greenie no need to get uptight" he laughs "right now I've shown you around I got klunk to do so I'll see you later" he says winking at me before he went off to do other stuff.

I sat at in my hammock trying to think straight about everything id been here weeks and I felt strange about it all so I got up and went for a walk around the dark glade for a while till

"Rather dark to be wondering around Tommy?" The familiar British twang echoed from the darkness

"Newt? Where are you? I can't even see you!"

"Ohh I'll never tell" he laughs

"Newt seriously... Actually could I talk with you about something?"

"Sure,what's up Tommy?" He asks as I looked behind me seeing him stood with a barely lit lantern we walked and chatted about little things for a while before he spoke up "why did you really wanna talk with me Tommy?"

"I keep getting these weird feelings" I admit

"Like what?" He asked

"Like this turning in my stomach, his bubbling in my brain, my mouth feels clammy and awful because I can't say what I want to"

"Very common symptoms"

"Of what?"

"Of 'aving a crush Tommy"

"When your around this guy, does your stomach feel like it's full of butterflies?"

"Yeah?"

"Like he's all you can think about all day?"

"Yeah"

"He is the subject of your dreams and... Your  fantasy's?"

"What do you mean fantasy's?"

"You know exactly what I mean Tommy" he smirked but I reminded confused until he made a jerk off guesture with his hand

"Oohh... Well yeah" I blushed

"Who's the lucky shank then?" And I blushed harder "come on you can tell me" he laughs lightly shoving me with his elbow I saw one of the benches so we had a sit down

"I think... I kinda like Minho"

"Minho? Into the buff boys then?" He asked

"What no! I just... I don't know I kinda like him I guess" I explain

"You don't have to explain it Tommy, you like whatever you like" he shrugs "I know for a fact Alby rather likes to be called daddy" he smirked "I know that Gally likes leaving bruises" he smirked "I know that Winston Rather likes to be tied up" he smirked "and I know zart likes coating people in his cum"

"What about minho?" I asked

"Humm minho... Very dark kinky guy" he smirked

"How do you know a this stuff about people newt?"

"Word gets around sooner or later" he says but I knew he was lieing

"Tell me the truth newt" I warn

"You really wanna know?" He asks and I nod "I'm what guys call... A practice boy" he says

"What does that mean?"

"It means, that I'm normally where people go when there not sure" he says "not sure about there sexualities, not sure about there kinks... I'm where people go when they wanna try stuff out after all knowone wants to go into a sexual relationship being unsure" he explained "for example... If Alby really wanted to shuck zart, but 'adn't ever done it before, he wouldn't want to disappoint zart as it's albys first time and he wouldn't be too good or to sure so... Maybe Alby would come and practice on me till he was good, ready and confident to shuck zart"

"I guess that makes sense..."

"I'm pretty good at keeping secrets and I'm 'appy for anyone to do anything to me... So long as they make me cum too I don't care" he explained

"So maybe if I... Wanted to have sex with Minho but knowing how... Rough and kinky Minho is maybe I'd go to you so you could uhh let me get use to someone being... Inside me" I suggest

"Exactly... If you wanted me too Tommy" he winked "I'd be 'appy to loosen you up for Minho if you wanted me too"

"We should get back it's getting early" I blushed

"Yeah we should Tommy"

I stood passing why was I doing this! I stood outside the keepers huts passing back and forth before I finally got some courage and knocked on the door within seconds it opened to a half naked newt

"'ey Tommy, What's up?"

"You busy?"

"Why?"

"I Uhhh.... Need a word"

"A word? About what?"

"A privet word with you newt" I said trying my best to hint

"Come in Tommy" he says letting me in and shutting the door "what do you need to talk about then?"

"I was uhh wondering if I could uhh maybe... You know how you said your kinda like a practice boy?"

"Yeah?"

"Well... Can I practice?"

"Ooohh.... Tommy why didn't you just say so" he smirked locking the door "what where you looking to practice then?"

"I uhh... I wanna know how to do it,"

"Do what?"

"You know..."

"'ave sex?"

"Yeah"

"Well you wanna be top or bottom Tommy?"

"What's the difference?" I asked and he laughs coming closer wrapping his arms around my hips to pull me tightly against the skinny blondes body

"If your on the bottom then... I'll be inside you." He smirked "or if your on top then you'll be inside me" he smirked giving my neck kisses and I was already stuggling to keep composition "or you could always... Stay the night and you can try both?'

"Uhh just top for now please newt" I blushed

"Alright Tommy" he smirked giving my hand a kiss as he intertwined our fingers "so... 'ow do you want me?"

"I uhh I hadn't really thought about it" I blushed

"Humm come on Tommy" he smirked tugging my hand towards his bed, it was a built bed not like the rest of us as we have hammocks it was almost a double bed actually with a pole at the footboard which confused me a little as we sat on his bed "so... 'ow do you wanna do it?"

"Whatever is easiest for my first time"

"Okay, want me to get my clothes off or do you wanna do it?"

"Uhhhhhh well I uhh I uhh" I stuttered "I'll do it"

"Okay, so let's get started-" he smirked going to kiss me at the same time as his hand reached for my pants but I stopped him

"Newt I'm really not sure about this"

"Hey, it's okay just relax..." He reassured "it's normal to be nervous especially for your first time" he says "it's fine we'll take it as slowly or as fast as you want to, you can do whatever you want to me remember" wrapping his arms sweetly around my neck "it's just me Tommy"

"Yeah,it's just you" I blushed pulling him to kiss me, he tasted like moonshine, mint and mud and I instantly loved it. It was kinda funny to think my first kiss and it was with newt of all people he went to tug at my pants but I pushed his hands away putting them back on my neck as I grabbed the blondes skinny hips and pulled him onto my lap which made him pull back

"Ohh Tommy..." He smirked

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing just..." He blushed "that a vile of serum in your pocket or are you just 'appy to see me?"

"Ohh uhh I have a stick in my pocket from the garden is that what your-" I began

"It's a joke Tommy" he laughs

"Ohh right sorry" I blushed "newt what uhh what's pressing like really hard on my stomach?"

"Humm..." He smirked giving my lips a kiss then me cheek then my jaw "that's my 'ard on Tommy" he whispered in my ear "so... You gonna shuck me or leave your poor newtie all  'ard and desperate?"

"Shuck you" I smirked pushing him down on his bed

"Good boy, now... You want the easy position right?" He asks and I nodded so he gave me another kiss and turned over to his stomach grabbing a pillow to rest his head and stomach on giving his body a little boost as he moved his hips up to grind his arse on my crotch "there you go Tommy 'ave your fun" he smirked I couldn't help but take everything in, his cotton grey bedsheets, his old but comfy pillows, his fluffy blonde hair, bare smooth back, his tight brown pants concealing all that was left a secret of him I couldn't stop myself from grabbing his pants and pulling them down to his knees seeing the cute little British boys bare arse exposed and ready for me

"What do I do..." I blushed

"Aww... Okay get those pants off Tommy, and your boxers too' he says so I did as he said giving my hard cock a couple of strokes "now your going to want to lube in some way, I suggest spit on your 'and or something like that" he suggested so I did that too "good now press against me, come on don't be shy Tommy" I blushed a little pushing against his warm skin "ummm Tommy... Now just push inside okay"

"What if I hurt you?"

"Awww that's sweet Tommy" he laughs "don't worry about me, I've had Clint testing 'ow far down the 'andle of a garden 'oe I can take trust me... I'll be fine" I was nervous to say the least as I tenderly pushed inside "uhh! All the way Tommy, don't just give me the tip come on" so I grabbed his hips and pushed hilt deep inside him "Uhhh!! Tommy! Ummm your bigger then I expected" he smirked I didn't need more instructions it felt so good I just keep going tip to hilt and it felt so good I know newt was enjoying it as he was rather loud till I pulled out "Tommy What's wrong?' he asked about to sit up but I pushed him back down

"You know you uhh said what all the guys are into?" I asked

"Yeah?' he smirked

"Can I uhh... Can I try something?"

"Hmm of course Tommy"

'wheres the rope" I smirked

"What?" He asked

"Where's the rope you tie boys up with?' I asked grabbing his cock and jerking it hard

"Uhhhh!!! Under the bed Tommy!" He moans so I used the same hand to slap his arse as I jumped off the bed getting two bits of sized I assume would work I went to the bottom of the bed taking both his hands giving them a kiss each and tieing them together before tieing them to the pole in the footboard he smirked knowing what I was doing to him he looked all sad at me so I gave his lips a kiss before getting up wrapping the rope around his mattress and attaching it at both ankles so he had no choice but to stay in this position, I took the pillow away and pushed back in returning to my pase "Uhhh Uhhh!!! Uuuhh!! Tommy... Please Tommy! Uhh shuck! Yes! Tommy! yes!" He groans as I saw his cum flood his duvet so I let him out the rope and turned him to lay on his back as he caught his breath "I thought you wanted to practice?"

"Why do I need anymore practice? I did what I wanted to do" I smirked pulling him to kiss me

"Why do I think this was all a lie?"

"Well... You got me, I never did like Minho, I just wanted to get to shuck you"

"You could 'ave just asked Tommy, I'd let you shuck me as much as you want" he smirked kissing me

"Good, because this time..." I smirked pushing his legs up and slipping back inside

"Uhh! Tommy!" He moans

"I wanna see your face when you cum for me slut"

"Yes master.." he smirked pulling me back to kissing him ....

[allthingsfangirl101]

Long-Lost Sibling Part 2–Thomas

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A few days after Janson took me to a separate hallway, there was a lot of commotion from the area he took me. I've heard whispers among the staff about a group of kids breaking out. The day after it happened, the door to my bunk opened revealing a guy in his early twenties.

"Y/N?" He asked as he stood in the doorway. I watched as he quickly looked over his shoulder.

"That's me," I said under my breath. I took a step back when he stepped more into my room.

"It's okay," he said raising his hands like he thought that would make me feel better. "I need you to come with me."

"No," I said quickly.

"Y/N," he sighed. "I need you to trust me. I was sent in to get you out. Specifically. I'm from a group of people called, the Right Arm."

"The Right Arm," I stuttered. "That doesn't. . . That doesn't make sense. Why were you sent for me specifically?"

"I don't have time to explain, Y/N. Just, please. I need to get you back to camp quickly and safely." His pleading threw me off. The way his voice sounded desperate made me trust him. I nodded, gasping when he immediately grabbed my hand and started pulling me down the hallway.

By some miracle, we were able to get out of the building without being spotted. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was dressed as a guard and it looked like he was taking me to get more tests done. Or maybe it was because the area I was relocated to was deserted.

                       * * * * *

I've been with the Right Arm for a little over a week now. For the time that I've been here, everyone has been treating me oddly. Not with anger in their eyes, or fear. It was more like hope.

And some even recognized me. Like Mary. When I first got to the camp, she came up and wrapped me in a tight hug, claiming that they had been waiting for me. She still hasn't told me why they were waiting for me, but she made an effort to ensure I was comfortable.

My first night at the Right Arm, I started having dreams. They were always different, but I always remembered them when I woke up. The only consistent detail of the dreams was who was in it; me and a boy a few years older than me.

My first dream was short and simple. We were walking down a hallway. He looked as if he was 9 or 10 and I was about 6.

                           ~•~

"Tommy," I whispered holding the boy's hand. I looked up when I felt him squeeze my hand. "I don't like this place."

"Y/N," he sighed.

"It's so. . . Clean. I mean, everything is so white and it smells funny."

"Because it's safe."

I nervously started picking at my lips. The boy I called Tommy knelt down and pulled my hand away from my lips, making me stop my nervous habit.

"Y/N, remember how mom explained that people were getting sick and that's why we had to come here? To keep from getting sick?"

I nodded my head, wanting to go back to picking at the dry skin of my lips. Tommy smiled as he rubbed my arms reassuringly.

"Well, that's why it smells funny," he explained. "Because they are keeping us safe and healthy. Do you understand?"

I nodded as he stood back up and took my hand in his. Even though Tommy was trying to reassure me, I couldn't get rid of the scared feeling inside me.

                           ~•~

He's been in my dreams every night since. Whenever I woke up, I was left with a strange feeling of déja vú, almost as if I knew that boy.

This morning, I woke up with a pit in my stomach.

                           ~•~

I looked around the workroom, my stomach dropping when I didn't see Thomas at his normal work area. I also noticed the other kids in the room were avoiding my gaze.

I let out a small sigh of relief when I saw Teresa walking over to her workspace which was directly across from Tommy's.

"Teresa." I furrowed my eyebrows together when she jumped as I said her name. "Where's Tommy?"

She looked around the room before back at me. When she looked at me, she had guilt in her eyes.

"Y/N," she started. By the way she said my name, I could tell I wasn't going to like what she said.

"Where is he?" I asked again, my heart sinking. My eyes filled with tears as she hesitated. "Teresa," I said through my teeth, anger building. "Tell me where he is. Now."

"Janson took him."

"What?" I took a step back, not caring that I had said that louder than I should've.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. He's being sent into one of the mazes."

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

My anger returned when she scoffed, almost like she was annoyed. "It turns out he's been sending information to some group of rebels. The Right Arm, I think."

"Why would he send information to them?"

"Because they're rebels, Y/N." She said like it was clear and I was being dumb. "They are against everything that WICKED stands for."

"Well," I hesitated. "Maybe WICKED is wrong."

                           ~•~

It all came flooding back. The boy and I used to work for WICKED. He was sending information to the group I was with now. Shortly after the boy was taken into the Maze, I was too.

WICKED "saved" my group from the Maze days after I was put into the Glade. I always wondered why they came so quickly, but now knowing what I know. . .

What if they regretted sending me in? What if they realized something?

"You alright, sweetie?" I looked up to see Mary standing next to me. She smiled as she sat down, glancing at my uneaten breakfast.

"I just. . ." I stuttered, not sure if I should tell her about these dreams.

"What's going on?" She asked, sitting up straighter when she saw the look on my face.

"What did. . . Do you know. . . When I first was brought here, you said you were waiting for me. Why?"

She sighed, clearly debating whether or not she was going to tell me the truth. "Please, Mary," I begged. "Just tell me. Does it have anything to do with a boy named Thomas?"

Her eyes widened when I said his name. "How do you. . . You remember Thomas?"

"Not really," I stuttered.

She nodded as she looked around the camp. When she looked back at me, I could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

"Y/N," she said slowly, "Thomas is your older brother. He's the one who sent us the locations of all the mazes. He was our mole. You were too."

"My brother?" I mumbled. After that fact sunk in, I asked, "Do you know why WICKED would take me out of the Maze after only being in there for a week and a half?"

"When you were with them, did they ever run tests on you?" She asked instead of answering my question.

"Every day," I scoffed. "They even had me moved to a separate area where I was completely alone."

"You're immune, kiddo."

"Immune," I said slowly. "To the flare?"

My eyes widened when she nodded. I looked down at my food, the only sound I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears. I looked up when she reached over and put her hand on my wrist.

"Y/N," she said gently. "When did you start remembering your brother?"

"Ever since I got here, I've been having these dreams about him. They were so real."

"Probably because they aren't dreams, Y/N. They're memories of you and Thomas."

I thought about what she said, trying to digest all the information that came out in less than ten minutes. I didn't say anything as she stood up and kissed my forehead.

"Mary," I finally spoke-up before she could walk away. I looked up at her with tears in my eyes. "Do you think I'll ever see Thomas again?"

I held my breath as she smiled down at me. "Honey, something tells me you will."

                        * * * * *

The day after I told Mary about my dreams, we heard that a group of Maze survivors was caught outside our security trap. I was in the middle of sorting through the med tent when I heard them walking into camp.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I walked out of the tent. I froze when I saw a boy leading the group of tired teens.

It wasn't just a boy. It was the boy from my dreams.

"Y/N?"

[coveredinsweetpea]

I Can't Fall In Love Without You || K.J. Apa

A/n: This was requested by @namelesslosers . Thank you!! I fucked it up a bit, but i hope you’ll still like it!

Summary: Y/n is a famous singer/actress who used to date KJ. When one night, at a ceremony they’re both attending, she performs a song that’s ‘not-so-subtly’ about him, things take a turn.

-

“Y/n, hurry! why aren’t you dressed?” or “Sign your name here, here and here” or “You have to go to this event, everyone will there” Words could never describe just how sick you were of having to put up with this specific façade. This on going rush you’ve been living in, this ever lasting maze of horror filled fake smiles, exhausted in you in a way you never thought possible. The life inside you was now grey colored, and a dark aura surrounded you. At this point, you had the exact same job, hung out with the exact same people, lived in the same house and slept in the same bed as you did when you still had him. Walking inside your apartment and not hearing any “Babe, I made food, the top is a little burnt but I’ll eat that part, I swear the bottom tastes really good. Gordon Ramsey taught me” felt utterly useless, and it didn’t take long before it turned into dread. The Grammy’s were tonight, and you sighed heavily as you got out of the limousine, realizing this was yet another red carpet you’d walk without KJ by your side. You’ve done it for years before meeting him, you knew what to do and how to act, the whole thing was that you didn’t want to do it by yourself. You missed his arm around your waist, and those stupid dad jokes he’s whisper in your ear just to get you to flash that genuine smile of yours for the camera. Despite being media trained and knowing exactly what to do, how to keep your legs and shoulders, where to look and so on in order to look good in pictures, KJ knew just how much better you looked when your true feeling were showing. All things considered, you were sure no one noticed just how much different you looked without him, but frankly, you were glad they had no idea. The last thing you needed were more questions about him, considering it had been months since you two parted ways.

“God!” Mary exclaimed, rushing to you, “How many times do I have to say this! Don’t sit down!” “Yeah yeah yeah” you mumbled, standing up from the armchair. Your eyes were still trained on the screen of your phone, following carefully a thread showing all the outfits people wore to the event. You knew Joe was invited, but since he wasn’t a nominee or an important guest, you weren’t surprised you didn’t see pictures of him yet. “Looking for him again?” your best friend sighed, “You’re performing in 2 minutes, get your vibes on!” “I’d fucking have my vibes on-” you snapped, talking as you walked away from her, “If you’d just let me be!” “What’s gotten your panties in a bunch, huh?” she taunted, walking towards you, “Haven’t seen you this moody in a while” “Meg, you know I love you” you sighed, turning around just enough to be able to look her in the eye, “But now is not the time” “It’s KJ, isn’t it?” “No, it’s not” you lied with a roll of your eyes, “I’m just nervous, that’s all” To be fair, it wasn’t a complete lie. You really were more nervous than you’ve been in ages, but that was because this was the biggest stage you’d walk on without as much as a smile of encouragement from him. KJ was somewhere in the audience, and the fact that your source of confidence would just watch your performance from beginning to end without having any direct influence over it, made you knees weak. Eventually, there was no where for you to hide anymore as the time to step on stage finally came. You did so on shaky knees, but as soon as your ears were met with chants of excitement and rounds of applause, you remembered why you chose this path in life. After a few seconds the lights dimmed, and silence settled. The song you had to perform wasn’t the most vocally challenging, but the emotional baggage it brought upon you was enough to make your lungs shake with every word you sang.

“I can be out every night No one else holding me down I can do just what I like But I can’t fall in love without you I can’t fall in love without you

Please don’t fall in love without me I hope you’re sorry Can’t find the words to say Hope you’re always worried Worryin’ ‘bout me”

Your palms were sweaty against the microphone and your ears were ever so numb, that you could barely hear yourself. The emotion for this song came from somewhere deep within, and you knew your secret was out - if you could even call it a secret. But at that moment, you didn’t care about them, all you saw before your eyes were the endless nights you spent without KJ. It didn’t matter if you were alone or not, it was his company you wanted, not anyone else’s. After your performance, Shawn Mendes took the stage and ended the whole ceremony, as you watched quietly from backstage. When everything was over, you hurried to change out of your long light blue dress, and into a black one, which despite being less revealing, was shorter and tighter. Ditching your pair of high heel sandals in favor of a pair of silver stilettos, you jumped into your car, where your stylist did her magic, and turned your flawless curls into a sea of messy waves. While you were still more than a few blocks away from where the after  party was to be held, your phone started blowing up. Twitter had gone mad, 3 different hashtags involving you and KJ were trending, your Instagram follower count had gone up by 80.000 bringing you close to the 70M milestone. All kinds of magazines and websites, most of which you haven’t even heard of before were posting about you, updating, speculating and analyzing. As it turns out, performing a song that was obviously about your ex after you’ve just received the first Grammy of your career, was indeed a big deal. The way from your car and to the door of the venue was quitter than you expected, but it was still early and the paparazzi hadn’t yet found the location. You calmly walked inside, the party already in full swing. A lot of celebrities that had no business attending the ceremony but were considered important enough by the mainstream media, were invited to this party. Most of your friends were there, so it didn’t take long for you to mingle in. You tried keeping yourself busy jumping from group to group, meeting new people and seeing old friends, but your mind wasn’t having it. KJ was still haunting your thoughts, so you made your way to the bar, hoping a drink would help you get in the mood to party. As you pondered what to order, you felt a very familiar cologne invade your senses. It made your knees weak, and your heart was beating at a pace that was by no means safe as you feared that at any moment, it would physically burst out of your chest. “Two strawberry vodka” you heard him saw, and it took everything inside of you not at aww at his words, as that had been your drink, starting from your very first date, up to the last time you drank together. “Wow” you smiled, turning to him, “Classy” “You taught me” KJ laughed, already blushing. It might have been the light, but the red in his hair was darker and his dark brown roots were beginning to show - that was something you always loved about him. He was wearing a plain white t shirt tucked into black jeans, and had his hair not been red, he would have made a perfect James Dean. “What’s up?” you asked softly, facing him completely despite still leaning against the bar. “I just wanted to congratulate you” he said, waving his arm. He would have touched you, squeezed your elbow or patted your shoulder, but you sensed the fear in his gestures, and it truly pained you. “Thank you” you smiled, “This is really big, didn’t think I’d win” “I knew you would” he grinned. “Did you?” “Yeah!” KJ nodded, before his smile faded, “I actually wanted to text you last night and wish you good luck and all that, but I figured it was a bad idea” “It wasn’t” you pouted, “I would have appreciated it. But now is almost just as good” He looked at you, his eyes lingering on yours as a new kind of smile curled the corners of his lips upwards. “I know just the thing-” he mumbled, grabbing his phone out of his right pocket. He kept it so you couldn’t see what he was doing, but soon after your drinks arrived, he placed his phone back in his pocket, and an exact second later, your own buzzed. “Oh god” you giggled, rolling your eyes. It was obviously a text from him, but you didn’t hesitate to read it. “Hey, Y/N, I know we haven’t talked in ages and I hate that a lot. I am also aware I missed a lot of important things in your life, but I did follow as much as I could through the internet so my prediction is based on facts. I’ll keep this short because I know you don’t like sappy moments, but that Grammy is yours. There’s no doubt about it. One day, you’ll win an Oscar too, I know it. Good luck, angel! x” “See?” you whined, stomping your foot against the floor, “Why are you like this?” “Like what?” he asked curious, leaning his head to the side. “Like-” you stuttered, furrowing your brows, “Like you!” “Like me?” KJ laughed, advancing towards you a bit, but still keeping a decent distance between your bodies, “Why am I like me? what do you mean?” You rolled your eyes with a scoff, “You know what I mean!” “Why do I still worry about you even after all this time?” he teased, coming another step closer. Despite knowing where this was going you didn’t have it in you to stop it, “Don’t make references to my song!” “It’s a good song” he defended himself. “Of course it is” you scoffed, closing the distance between your bodies. “Why? Because you wrote it?” KJ mocked, wrapping his left arm around your middle. You looked up into his eyes and saw him smiling down at you. It warmed your heart as you haven’t seen that exact reaction in months, and to be honest, it was you absolute favorite thing in the word. He looked at you in complete awe and you were done. “No…” you whispered, “Because it’s about you” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I still love you, you know? Nothing changed for me, and it won’t anytime soon” Your teasing mood and flirty attitude disappeared in an instant, now you were sad, angry - at yourself, and had no idea what to do. “I shouldn’t have performed that song, this isn’t ok” Despite saying these things, you didn’t back away from him. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in his neck. KJ brought you closer to his chest, holding you tight around your middle. It was a hug at the edge between a reunion and a goodbye, and you were dead set on not letting go of him until you knew which one of the two it actually was. “Hey-” KJ said, gently pushing you away so he could look into your eyes as he spoke, “We can talk about this, whatever it is. Let’s go outside and-” “No” you shook your head, “I can’t do this tonight” “I-” he tried to speak, obviously taken aback, but you stopped him. “I waited for this night ever since I was 8. I dreamed about holding that award in my hands for so long, I don’t want anything to ruin this for me” It was visible just how much your words pained him, but he held it all back. Or at least he tried. Tears glistered at the corners of his eyes, but he still nodded in agreement, taking a step back, “I respect that” You grabbed his hand to stop him, as you didn’t want to let anything unfinished, “I do love you, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Take me back-” you said, “for tonight. Can everything go back to normal, just for this night, and we’ll talk about it in the morning, and we’ll work through things as they come, I thought I-” KJ cut you off, as he grabbed your cheeks, and kissed you. He was more passionate than you ever felt him. You’ve done this so many times, yet this felling right now, it was knew. You teeth still clanked against his, and you still licked the corner of his mouth by mistake, but your eyes remained closed, just as his, because this was new. This was the beginning of something new. It was like your very first kiss all over again. With one arm around you and a hand planted on the side of your rib cage, he held you as close as he could, every now and then sighing against your lips, sighs which eventually turned into little moans, until you had to pull away. “Scare me like that ever again-” “What?” you laughed, “Did you think we were gonna break up again, or?” “Are you ever not this sassy?” KJ exclaimed. “Would I still be the woman you fell in love with if I didn’t mock you?” He laughed out loud, “Probably not, so please don’t ever stop”

[in-tua-deep]

Love this new AU! Can you talk a bit more about a circumstance where Five is protective of the Boy and maybe another of the Boy being protective of Five?

The Boy didn’t used to have nightmares. Or well, maybe he did. Absent things, that upon waking he felt like he’d been hit with a bucket of ice water (and he should know, that happened when he slept in more than once) but he never really remembered his nightmares.

(He used to have night terrors, when he was small. He’d wake up screaming. He was always punished for it. Between the ages of three and six he slept with his fist crammed in his mouth to muffle his screams until his brain finally figured out that screaming would do him no good.)

After leaving the commission, he has proper nightmares. Sometimes they’re strange, just him wandering around halls that he knows are the Commissions but are out of place and wrong - a maze that he can’t escape from. He has to hide from the Handler in them, but she always seems to find him.

Other times it’s about his new family in his new house. Sometimes it’s them rejecting him, wondering out loud why they ever took in such a burden. That they didn’t want him and that he would do them all a favor if he just went away. Sometimes he dreams of the Handler standing over their dead bodies and smiling at him and telling him oh, he didn’t think he was allowed to keep them, did he? 

He doesn’t like his new nightmares.

But he’s not alone.

He sleeps in Five’s room. There was some noise made about getting him his own room and bed and everything, but it’s been a while now and everyone seems to have forgotten about it. Five’s room only has a twin bed, but that’s okay.

Five tells the Boy that he can have it. Five sleeps better on the floor, or sometimes crammed inside the tiny closet. He says that the bed is too soft, and the Boy wonders if the commission ever let him have an actual bed. The Boy got a bed, sort of. More reminiscent of a prison cot than anything else, but it was something. 

Sometimes when the Boy wakes up at night, he can hear Five whimpering in his sleep, or mumbling, or tossing and turning. Sometimes Five is already awake when the Boy sits up, scribbling away in a notebook by the light of the moon. Sometimes, on the really bad nights, Five is tucked in a corner, biting on his fist as tears stream down his face.

He asks, once, what Five dreams about.

Five gives him a long and measuring look, but the Boy has no reason to doubt his truthfulness when he finally says - “I dream of the apocalypse, always.”

“Always?” The Boy asks, eyes wide. He has a few recurring nightmares, but to have the same one over and over again seems odd.

“The characters change.” Five whispers, looking into the middle distance. “Sometimes there are ghosts, family and victims and bodies. Sometimes the Handler is there. Sometimes it’s Dad. Sometimes… sometimes it’s just me, alone again.”

The Boy considers that, and then asks the questions he wants to know the answer to. “Did you have those dreams before? When you were in the apocalypse?”

Five blinks. “Not the same ones, no. But sometimes I dreamed about ghosts. Why?”

“I didn’t dream before I left the Commission.” The Boy admits softly, staring down at his hands twisting in the blanket on his lap. “I dream - I dream a lot now. I don’t like it.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Five says slowly, mulling the words over. He looks thoughtful. “You didn’t have anything to compare your life to back then. How can you have a nightmare when there are no dreams? How can you tell the good from the bad when you’ve only experienced one?”

“I guess.” The Boy says, wrinkling his nose, “But I still don’t like it.”

Five is silent for a long while. Long enough that the Boy almost thinks Five has gone to sleep on him. But right when the Boy is prepared to lay back down and go to sleep, he hears the soft whisper. “Me neither.”

And that’s all they say about that.

Five is always really nice about the Boy’s nightmares. They’re really quiet, but Five is hypervigilant to the point that almost any noise wakes him up regardless. The Boy is nervous about that in the beginning, but Five always waves him off. 

“I’m usually awake around this time, anyway.” Five always says, and each time it makes the Boy concerned - because if you were tired you made mistakes, and mistakes got you punished, and the Boy didn’t want Five to get punished. 

On the really bad nights, when the Boy shakes himself awake and can’t stop trembling and can’t string a word together if his life depended on it, when his breathing stutters in his chest and his skin feels too tight and his vision tunnels, Five is there. 

They’re the only nights when Five actually uses the bed, sitting next to the Boy and pulling the Boy’s head down with gentle hands to rest against Five’s own chest. “Breathe.” Five orders, ever so gently, and takes deep breaths for the Boy to copy.

It’s nice. Five is warm, and his heart thumps loudly and steadily against the Boy’s ear. He times his breaths by the beats of that heart until he’s not shaking out of his skin anymore and he can actually fill his lungs with enough air. 

At first, the Boy thought Five would leave as soon as his job of calming the Boy down was over and done with. But he doesn’t. He just sways them both back gently until they’re lying down, pressed against one another in the bed that was really too small for the both of them, and stayed there until morning. Solid and present and warm and safe. 

Sometimes, the boy wakes up too quietly, feeling not quite real. He just blinks his eyes open and stares at the ceiling, feeling like his body isn’t his own. Feeling absent in a way that should be scary if he could bring himself to be alarmed. 

On those nights, he eventually rolls out of bed - the thump of his feet on the floor making Five stir in his nest of blankets. The Boy pads over to the nest, and Five sleepily holds up a blanket to allow the Boy to crawl inside. The solid warmth against his skin makes his skin prickle, but it’s so much better than the numbness that it always makes tears spring to the Boy’s eyes. They sleep curled up together on the floor like puppies and it’s so different from the long lonely nights of the Boy’s childhood.

That isn’t to say that the Boy doesn’t return the favor though, because he does.

Sometimes, he wakes up to a whimper and looks over to see Five half stuffed into the closet, glassy eyed and terrified. On those nights, he swings his feet out of bed and pads over to crouch in front of the unseeing boy.

“What do you see, Five?” The Boy asks, ever so softly, as he always does on nights like these. If he doesn’t get a response, he repeats the question just a smidge louder until he does. 

Five blinks at him, still not quite seeing him. “Ash,” He croaks, voice hoarse and wary, “Ash and rubble and ruin.”

“Hmm.” The Boy considers, tilting his head. “That’s not what I see. Can I tell you what I see?”

Five never answers this question, but that doesn’t stop the Boy. “Under your feet there’s your bedroom floor. It’s kind of cold, ‘cause it’s the middle of the night and it’s not the rug.”

Five’s head tilts to stare at his feet, toes curling against the wood almost warily.

“On your body are pajamas, sort of.” The Boy continues, “I’m pretty sure the pants belong to Vanya, ‘cause they’re not too long on you. They have a heart stitched on the thigh which is either part of the design or the brand, I dunno. They look comfy, though.”

Five’s hand finds the stitched heart, and he runs stiff fingers over the ridges of thread that make up the heart. He looks a tiny bit more present.

“I think the shirt might be Klaus’s? It’s got some kind of band on it, I think. Or maybe a company logo? I’m not real good at telling them apart.” The Boy shrugs, carelessly.

“It’s a band.” Five croaks out. The Boy waits expectantly, but Five adds no more.

“Can I touch your hand?” The Boy asks.

“Can you?” Five challenges.

The Boy reaches out and clasps Five’s hand in his own. Five looks at the two hands as though he’s never seen anything like it in his life, like it’s a small miracle. 

Sometimes, even knowing how he himself grew up, the Boy aches for Five. He aches for the boy lost in the apocalypse. The Boy was never really shown kindness, but at least he wasn’t alone.

“You’re in your bedroom.” The Boy tells him firmly, “It’s 4:32AM on a Tuesday. It’s October 28th. The Apocalypse never happened because you stopped it. Diego bought pumpkins yesterday because Klaus wouldn’t stop whining about it and there’s supposed to be a pumpkin carving party today. You’ve been brainstorming how to get out of it since then.”

There’s color back to Five’s skin now, replacing the ghostly pallor of post-flashback-Five. He looks alert, and like he knows where he is. He sits up fully, and lets go of the Boy’s hand.

“Do you think,” The Boy ponders, drawing Five’s attention, “If I jumped, do you think I’d also end up in the apocalypse?”

Five’s eyes widen in horror. He covers his terror with anger, as he tends to do. “No!” He whisper shouts, looking furious, “We fixed it so it never fucking happened. Why the fuck would you ask that?”

“If I jumped,” The Boy rolls the words around in his mouth, “Then maybe you would be there, too. And then you wouldn’t have had to do it alone.”

There’s still fight in the lines of Five’s body, but it softens. It’s too early to be so angry, anyway. “It’s fine.” He says, “I got out. I’d never want to put any of you guys through the apocalypse. Bad enough I went through it.”

“It’s not okay.” The Boy says, firmly, because that’s what the family always says to him about the bad stuff he went though when he tries to brush it off. “It’s not okay, but I’m glad you’re here with me now at least.”

Five lip quirks, head nodding in acknowledgement of the role reversal. “Yeah, me too.”

They don’t usually go back to sleep after one of Five’s bad episode. Instead, they head downstairs and put on a movie. One of the dumb childish ones that Five rails against in front of the others, but in the mornings he’s too drained to put on anything that requires a modicum of thought or effort.

(He likes the almost guarantee of happy endings, too. The Boy never says anything about it though, because he feels the same way.)

They sit on the sofa together and eat peanut butter or nutella or marshmallow fluff straight from the jars. They don’t talk, but they don’t have to. They just watch the movies until it’s a more sensible time and the others start to wake up.

(Klaus sometimes catches them, with his chronic insomnia and nightmares of his own. Five blames the childish movie choices on the Boy, and the Boy knows that Five’s sensitive about them so he doesn’t mind taking the blame at all. It’s one small way he can help Five out, and it’s one he’s glad to do.

On those night, Klaus and Ben end up joining them. Klaus has a sweet tooth so he’ll steal the marshmallow fluff. He tries to sing along with the musical ones and makes Five throw pillows at him. It’s nice.)

Sometimes Five isn’t awake when the Boy wakes up, because Five whimpers and talks in his sleep. 

It’s strange, the difference between them. The Boy is silent when he sleeps, and silent when he wakes up. It’s the shaking of the bed or the scuff of feet against the floor which wake Five, not any shouts or crying from the Boy’s mouth.

But Five was alone for so long, with no one to hear him, and sometimes it seems like his body forgets that there are people around now. So he whimpers and whispers and begs with his face contorted in such a way that the Boy can’t look at it for too long. Five is so proud when he’s awake, but underneath he’s just as broken as the Boy. Just - in different ways.

After the first few times, the Boy knows not to wake Five up by shaking him or anything. He had a black eye for a week and Five looks tremendously guilty any time they made eye contact for longer than that.

But Five is a light sleeper, so it’s easy to just whisper a loud - “Five?” into the silence of the room. 

Five doesn’t wake slowly, or peacefully. He always sits bolt upright, something not quite a shout on his lips that he strangles as soon as it passes his vocal chords. His hands always shoot up to his ears, as though he’s trying to block something out. 

Those nights, the Boy approaches only after Five has woken and gently pulls Five’s hands down from his ears. After the waking, no words are passed between them. The Boy just lays down next to Five and curls against him on the floor. Sometimes, when Five doesn’t settle back down right away, the Boy hums gently to drown out the dregs of whatever nightmare voices that still plague his family member. 

They don’t talk about the nightmares when it’s daytime. It seems… strange. They don’t exist under the soft protection of the sun’s light, They don’t exist in the streets or in the living room or at the kitchen table. They only exist in their bedroom, in the godawful hours when no one in their right mind should be awake.

They take care of each other. They chase each other’s nightmares away with whatever tools they have at their disposal. They protect one another, because no one else protected them before but they have each other now and that’s enough.

That has to be enough.

[writingonthemoon]

Old Clothes Part 6

Masterlist

Word Count: 2846

Warnings: Mentions of death and survivors guilt

Author’s Note: God, guys, I feel so bad about this.  I don’t even actually know when part 5 was posted, but no matter what, I feel awful.  I lost my direction for the story for a little and I’ve been… struggling with some things recently.  But I’m back.  Don’t know how consistent I will be or how this is all going to play out, but I figure y’all are here to help a little with that.  So, enjoy the first part of Old Clothes of 2020.

Old clothes would help you to stick out in a crowd.  Seldom if the correct outfit was chosen, but there were always those instances. A single mistake, one misstep while dressing, and you’re outed, done for.  But there were assurances one could take. The chest buried under the motley coats in the attic was always a good place to start, but one must be wary of their findings.  Games of dress-up weren’t the same as hiding in plain sight.  My mother burned the chest once I had found it.

     Was I supposed to be in the attic that day?  Yes, I was.  But I wasn’t supposed to go beyond the wicker basket that held my mother’s sewing supplies.  I’d seen something, though, something that was amiss in the dusty space. Rays of golden sunlight shone upon an old chest beneath the round window. Plumes of dust floated into the sun as old folds of fabrics fell to the ground at the cause of my curiosity. A lock caused my childish curse to come forth as my eyes laid sight upon the blockade. My gut commanded an attempt anyway, just to be sure.

     The hinges cried with age as my fingers pried the lid away from the box. The contents were all mismatched and random, but all were surprising to me. None of these items should be with us. There were books and letters and keepsakes that were supposed to have been burned years prior. Ribbons from the old country were neatly rolled and placed in boxes along with the jewellery from generations ago. It was like a glimpse into times long before the Davenports became what they were.

     My pockets sagged as an array of artefacts found their way inside. The steps of my mother sent my heart racing and I jumped away from the box. The lid slammed shut and my lungs sharply collapsed in a violent cough at the dusty cloud that filled the atmosphere. A lie was lost in a maze on the way to my lips and I was caught red-handed.

     The scraping of the box on the floor still echoed from time to time, when my mind was at its quietest and there was no better time to ruin my false sense of security. My skin prickles with searing heat and during the summer, I can only hope for a rainstorm to cool the pain. She forced me to watch. Forced me to watch the consequences of another mistake I had made. All those ties back to our family, gone. The memories from my parents’ previous lives, gone. Everything and every one of the items still in there vanished into the night sky in flakes of ash. Except for the stowaways that were in my pillowcase.

     My pocket held many small things. A crumpled sketch of London was dated back to 1743 when America was still a colony and pleased about it. My gran must’ve drawn it. She was always the artist of the family, so my father said. There were some stamps contained in a small coin purse that jingled as it swayed from side to side. They were from the Stamp Act and dated the day of the Boston Tea Party! Incredible detail was put into the small drawings. Tiny notebooks were chock-full of random notes and ideas and appointments and thoughts, different handwritings on each page muddling the narrative further.

     The other pocket held one item that turned multitudinous. An ornate tiara lay resting in blue silk. When could that have been from? Why was it here? Pressed flowers were held between thin wax pages. Delicate strings of pearls twisted and curled among the contents. Stubs of charcoal were wrapped in tissue from burns before. I guess the charcoal tradition was older than I thought. And a golden ring, whose one side had been flattened and carved, was carefully stowed in a smaller box inside the first. Initials were worn away from decades of existence and I had no clue who this had come from. All I knew was that it was important.

     I could feel a nervous and surprised energy radiate off of Sean. He’d heard of me already. Word travels fast between the boys, it seemed, “Huh, Odette?” He nodded slowly, lips pursed in thought. My hands found their way into my pockets and I twirled the ring around my finger, my mind mulling over the ancestors that it could’ve once belonged to. “Pretty name. That’s from that show or whatever with the birds and stuff, right?”

     "Swan Lake?“ My tone was a mix of surprises. One that he forgot the name of the ballet and the second that he had even heard of it. "You know Swan Lake?”

     "Now, don’t act oh so surprised, Miss Odette. We Newsies know ‘bout more than all youse people.“ He gestured to my outfit as if making the point I was wealthy in some way.

     I floundered for a moment, my mouth opening and closing like a fish in the Fraser, "You’re right, I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. My deepest apologies to you.”

     "Nah, I understand where it’s comin’ from. Just don’t do it again, you here? Else you ain’t 'llowed here anymore.“ The tone he used was almost threatening, but I could tell by the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth that it was a joke.

     I shrugged, a grin spreading across my face like butter on bread, "I suppose I should keep my belongs on my person for a quick getaway whenever I’m here. Just in case I cause a revolution.”

     Spot took a step closer to me. The smell of rain and mud wafted off him and I could hear his breathing, “I wouldn’t doubt a lady like you causin’ trouble.”

     "Well, I am British. That can cause quite a controversy when I voice my opinion on this country’s state of affairs, even if I grew up here.“ An exaggerated frown made its way to my face, "Though many of the crazy old men that run this country say a woman shouldn’t have those sorts of opinions.”

     A voice from up the stairs startled me and I jumped, looking up to see a boy standing there, “You a reporta?” Almighty forces of the universe, the boy was practically naked! I know I was intruding on the home at night, but his undershirt looked as if it had been worn as his only shirt. Coordination between his suspenders and blue bandana weren’t helping his case either. And the way he eyed me, stared me down as if choosing how to fight me best.

     Spot moved to stand between the boy and me, “Now, Myron, don’t be lookin’ for a fight.”

     "No, Sean. It’s fine.“ I placed my hand on his shoulder and lightly applied pressure to move him, "He has every right to ask questions as the others do.” My gaze locked with Myron’s, the tension growing with an impending silence, “What does it matter to you if I’m a reporter or not, Myron? Unless you have something to hide, my presence shouldn’t bother you in the slightest.”

     "So you are a reporta.“ The whites of his eyes flickered as they rolled and he mosied down the creaking steps. He was only the slightest bit taller than I was, but I was hardly intimidated. I had faced worse in much more stressful situations.

     "No, you misunderstand. I said if I were a reporter, not that I am a reporter. I wasn’t quite clear though, so I can understand your confusion.”

     "Ay, no, you said it don’t matter whether or not you a reporta. And I should only be bothered if I’m hidin’ somethin’.“ He stood before me, a dirty musk his cologne and arms crossed in defiance, "Now, I ain’t hidin’ nothin’, but I don’t much like reportas.”

     "That’s a bold opinion of an entire career. Might I know why?“

     "They’re never lookin’ out for the little guy. Never caring about anything but the story that’ll make their name get out into the world. An’ once they’re done with you, you’re dirt.” His face was in mine now, our noses just brushing, giving me a good look at his face. Dirt coated his face, filling crevasses created from scars. They were in strange patterns, the markings. And they were so pale too, his flesh like marbling. I looked into his eyes and saw my pain staring back at me. It was too much for such a short lifetime.

     I raised my hand slowly, the sight of it in his peripheral causing a flinch as if I were to strike him across the face. My fingers lightly met his cheek, which was burning to my cold skin. He pressed into my palm, savouring the gentle human touch. “Oh, little darling, what did they do to you?”

His walls crumbled at my words, every emotion flowing over the rubble, “They’re gone 'cause a me. An’ those bums in their clean shirts and with all their money, they treated me like a criminal.” Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall at a moment’s notice, “I swear the fire wasn’t my fault, but I know that they were.”

     "Why would it be your fault?“

     Myron wiped at his eyes, hoping the tears would go away, but new ones replaced the old and started running down his face in a race to the ground, "I-I was stuck an’ they came back in for me. All I remember is being pulled from underneath the ceiling and her holding me as she moved me to the exit.” He sniffed as he stuttered and choked on his words, “But they-they didn’t come out after me. I swore I could see them through that door I was pushed outta. They was so close.”

     "Who did you lose, little darling?“ Myron shook his head in response, knowing the words will only make his state worse, "Was it your parents?” He nodded vigorously, turning away from me. “It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. It will never be your fault.”

     "B-bu-but it was. It still is.“

     "No. It was the fire, not you.” My hand came to rest on his shoulder and I turned him back to me. I gave him a soft, understanding smile, one I would’ve wished to have been presented to me when I was coming to terms with my losses. A little bit of pressure from my hand moved the fragile boy to the staircase, where I sat beside him with my arm around his shoulders. The boys around us watched on before I moved my head to send them away. The two didn’t question anything and left without words.

     "Have you mourned?“ I asked out of the silence. I could feel his confusion at the idea, "I hadn’t mourned when I lost my family. I suppose I’m still avoiding it.” I stared at my shoes as I thought of all my adventures, all my distractions from the truth.

     "You lost your folks?“

     "Not just them. I lost my brother and sister too that day.”

     "What happened? If you don’t mind.“

     "Not at all. We moved a lot when I was younger, going from place to place, never settling for too long. During one of those moves, I got separated in the woods. I searched for hours and hours, all through the night and into the morning. All I could find was some of the family heirlooms scattered on the ground in a clearing. No sign of them or the rest of our belongings. They had just vanished.” I felt awful lying about my past to this boy, but it was difficult to explain the immortality when it’s to be a secret.

     "Boy, that is awful.“ There was a sad chuckle as he spoke, which I returned as an agreement. "So, you’re an orphan like the lot of us and you’re still a reporta?” He turned his head and looked at me, some form of shock and respect on his sad face.

     "I am not a reporter.“ I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed cleaned the tears from his face. I wasn’t too attached to the fabric. I had stolen it from a man’s coat pocket when I 'accidentally’ fell into him while on the trolley. I swiftly left after the incident, escaping my mark and the fact I hadn’t paid for the transportation.

     "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Press.”

     I rolled my eyes at the boy, “My name is Odette.”

     "Nah, Imma still call you Press. It’s your Newsie name. The lot of us have all got 'em. You should too.“

     "Oh, I’m one of you now? Why’s that?”

     "I dunno. Just feels like you get us. Understand our side an’ all. And, hey,“ I could feel his tough-guy façade being put back on, "Brooklyn is the best neighbourhood in all a New York. Who wouldn’t wanna be one of us?” Myron’s walls were back up, but I could feel that they were a little shorter, not as strong. That’s progress.

     "I couldn’t think of anyone if you gave me all of Time to think.“ I laughed, bumping his shoulder. This kid, I don’t know what it was about him, but he felt like my own. He felt like my responsibility, almost as if I had adopted him.

     "Exactly.”

     "You should get to sleep. You’ve got a day and a half ahead of you.“ I motioned up the staircase with my head, indicating exactly what I meant.

     "What about you?” He asked as I stood up, eyes following me.

     I shrugged a little, looking into their common room of sorts, “I’m going to make sure everyone else is resting as well.” I looked back at him, “I guess I’m never not going to be a big sister.” A small giggle escaped me against my better judgement. I pressed a kiss to the boy’s slightly damp and dirty hair, ruffling it up before walking away from him. “Go sleep, Myron.”

     "I’ll see you in the morning?“ The look of hope he gave me reminded me of my little Elijah and my heart hurt just a little. That was why he mattered all of a sudden. He was another version of my brother.

     I nodded, "Bright and early.” He grinned at my response and ran up to the rooms as I went to herd the stragglers upstairs. Surprisingly, it was only Sean sitting by the fire, watching it with an intense stare. I stood and waited for him to acknowledge my presence. It only felt right since he was the leader.

     "I ain’t never seen Myron cry, you know.“ Spot broke the silence. I moved to sit across from him as he continued, "Not when he first came here, not even when he gets hurt. Never. Then you show up, Odette,” his eyes met mine, the fire reflecting in his dark irises, “and it’s like he’s a whole other person. You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence, 'cause the way you handled that and acted like a mother to a kid you ain’t never met is suspicious. And I ain’t fond of suspicious people.”

     "It’s a gift of mine, I suppose.“ I looked to the fire, faint images of my past projecting themselves on my mind’s eye, "When you’ve seen what I’ve seen and lost everything, you get good at recognizing it in others.” I met Sean’s gaze again, “And when you get good at seeing it, people get good at letting it out.”

     "I dunno, you’re seventeen. How can you have had so much happen to you in those years?“

     "How can there be so many Newsies like you all in such a small area? The world isn’t inherently good, Sean. I learnt that the hard way and all too early.” I leaned back and the two of us had a game of wills, a contest of resilience. For what felt like hours, we held one another’s gaze, waiting for the other to give in. “You should go to sleep, Sean. These kids are counting on you.”

     "Some of them are counting on you too, now.“

     "But you’ll stay with them,” I admitted, refusing to let any form of guilt creep up on me.

     He nodded thoughtfully at my response before rising and moving silently to the stairs. I heard him stop for a moment, a pause in his thinking and planning. “Thank you, Odette. Thank you for helpin’ him.”

     "He needed it. He deserved it.“ At my reply, he mounted the steps, leaving me to watch the fire die out the darkness from the streets outside slowly seeped into the dwelling. I was left with my inner-monologue as my eyelids grew heavy and my mind went blank in exhaustion. Sleep came after a futile attempt to stay awake. For only a few hours was I a willing casualty in the battle for rest. To others, it looked peaceful, how I slept. But the inner machinations of my mind always had other plans.

[just-jordie-things]

Troubled Times - Peter Parker

word count: 1675 warnings: trauma request: hi!! wondering if I could request a peter fic? where the reader is having a really hard time after iw, but so is peter, so she feels like she can’t tell him. and then one day he finds out somehow about how bad it’s been for her, like really bad nightmares and no sleep and anxiety and being sad and stuff, and she confesses? 💓💓💓

[ a new day dawning comes without warning, so don’t blink twice / we live in troubled times ]

(y/n) tried the best to rub the sleep out of her eyes as she padded her way into the kitchen of the Avenger’s Facility.  Another night filled with nightmares kept her from sleeping through it completely, without waking up every other hour shaking and in tears.

After the war, she started having horrible night terrors, making it impossible to move on from what happened.  Losing her friends, her family, the Avengers, Peter, she was tormented by it all.  It haunted her.

But the sick joke was that even when they all came back, she was still grieving.

“Goodmorning (y/n),” Stephen Strange said as he casually walked into the room, preparing a pot of coffee with his magic, somehow.  She wasn’t sure when he started living at the facility, sometime after everyone came back.  Nowadays she saw a lot of faces she didn’t exactly recognize.  “Would you like a cup?” He asked politely, ready to get out a second mug for her.

“No, thank you” (y/n) shook her head, knowing that no matter how much caffeine she drank, she’d never be fully awake and aware of her surroundings.

“Are you feeling alright?” Strange asked, sensing her spaced out personna.

“Yeah” She answered, but he didn’t quite believe her, and made a mental note to talk to Tony, and probably the Spider Boy too, since they seemed so close.  He looked at her skeptically, but she didn’t even seem to notice.

“(y/n)?” He questioned, realizing she’d completely zoned out, just standing there.

“Hm?” She hummed, looking up at him, trying her best maintaining eye contact, but every time she looked at him, all she could see was him disappearing into dust, and it made her think of Peter leaving her in the same way.  Her chest began to heave, and she could tell that Doctor Strange was speaking, but she couldn’t comprehend a word he was saying.  Eventually the vision in her head became so vivid she had to leave, and bolted out of the room.  

“What- (y/n)!” Stephen called aloud, abandoning his coffee to find where she’d sprinted off to, but she was already lost in the maze of corridors.

She ran so quickly, trying to escape the memory, but it didn’t work, it stayed in the front of her mind, practically blinding her vision like a replaying movie.  She was running out of breath, and her energy certainly wouldn’t last long, since she hadn’t slept or eaten any solid meals in days.  Or maybe it was weeks.

“(y/n)?” A familiar voice questioned, before she was grabbed by the arms and brought to a halt.  The girl blinked until she got her vision back, and recognized Peter instantly.

It was Peter.

She was alright.

Peter was safe.

“Peter,” She cried out, grabbing him by the collar and planting her face in his chest, tears began to trek down her face as she held him tighter and tighter.  Peter was taken aback, releasing her arms to embrace her closely, his hands massaging her back as he pressed featherlight kisses over the crown of her head.

The girl’s knees gave out, and he found himself following her to the floor, in the middle of the hall of dormitories.  He stayed holding her, pulling her close anytime her sobbing caused her to slip out of his grasp.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” He prompted softly, leaning back and lifting her chin so that she could.  “What’s got you like this? What’s going on?” He was completely surprised by the way she was acting, he’d never seen her so distraught, even right after the war, she kept a blank face or a smile anytime she was around him.

“I-I-I-” She stuttered as her jaw was shaking from her hard crying.  “I tried- I swear Pete I tried”

“Tried what honey?” He asked lovingly, staring at her in worry.  He wiped at her tears, drying her cheeks as best he could.

“I tried to be strong,” She mumbled brokenly.  “I tried to be strong for you, but I just can’t, I can’t do it, I can’t do it anymore” She began to cry again, and again Peter tugged her against him, kissing her cheek and shutting his eyes as she bawled on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to be strong for me, (y/n/n),” He whispered into her ear.  “You don’t have to be strong for anybody, only yourself, and even then, you decide,” He assured her, kissing her cheek again.  She sniffled and her voice cracked as she spoke again.

“I missed you, so much,” She whimpered, wiping at her own eyes now, trying her best to stop crying so she could talk to him normally.  “I-I’ve just… I still miss you, sometimes it’s like you’re not even here, and I’m still stuck alone and-and missing you” She wiped her eyes again before the tears could fall.

“I missed you too, sweetheart” He cooed, giving her a smile as he cupped her face in his hands.  “You have no idea how long it felt, being away from you,” He admitted.  And (y/n) let out a bitter chuckle.

“Yeah, I think I do” She responded, and he laughed at her twisted sense of humor.  Clearly she’d spent too much time around Stephen and Tony, being this sarcastic after just breaking down.  “I haven’t been sleeping,” She told him in a quieter voice.

“What do you mean you haven’t been sleeping?” Peter asked, instantly getting protective.  “For how long?”

“Since the war,” (y/n) slumped her shoulders.  “I can never stay asleep, too many nightmares, bad memories” Peter frowned.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked sadly, and she gave him a look.  “To be strong?” He questioned, and she nodded.  “(y/n)...” He sighed, thumbs stroking against her cheekbones.  “Promise you’ll start telling me these things?”

“Yes,” She whispered shakily.  “I promise”

“Come on,” He drew her forward by her hands, and helped her up from the floor.  “We’re going back to bed”

“Right now?” She asked him as he lead her to his room.

“Yes, you need sleep, I need time with you, it’s a win-win” He answered.

(y/n) smiled, actually smiled, for the first time in a while.  She held onto his hand securely as he unlocked the door with the keypad, and shut and locked it behind hi after they entered.  She never wanted to let go.

“Peter,” She murmured, causing him to turn around.  She finally let go of his hand, smiling a soft smile as she stepped towards him, her hands cupping his jaw and pulling him down to her height to kiss him.

Peter sighed, his arms wrapping around her torso, pulling her close and kissing her back tenderly but passionately.

They hadn’t kissed since before the war.

It was nice, like coming back home after a long trip.

(y/n) let out a shaky breath when they parted, her eyes remaining closed for a moment.  But Peter couldn’t look at her fast enough.

“I’ve sure missed that,” She breathed out, and Peter smiled at her, not saying anything, not moving, just waiting for her to look up at him.  When she finally did, she smiled right back at him.  “I love you, Peter Parker” She whispered.  She hadn’t said it in what felt like months, and it made her heart both swell and ache.

“I love you too, (y/n) (y/l/n)” Peter responded without missing a beat.  He leaned down, hesitantly kissing her again, before taking her hand and bringing her to bed.

She crawled into his warm blankets, only to turn around when he got in with her, snuggling right into chest on instinct.  It made her smile as she thought of one of the first nights they spent together.

“Do you remember the first time I stayed here with you?” (y/n) asked, recalling the memory fondly.  For once, her mind was plagued with the fear of losing him.  But instead, the happiness of her time spent with him.  Peter chuckled as he remembered.

“Yeah, of course I do,” He said.  “We’d been up so late… and I was so nervous to ask you to stay the night,” He shook his head as a blush covered his cheeks, he could barely get the question out at the time.  (y/n) smiled into his chest, she’d loved how anxious he was.

“Yeah,” She sighed.  “It was adorable”

“It was embarrassing,” Peter refuted.  “I’d never been so nervous in my entire life,” (y/n) began to giggle softly against him, and he waited for her to finish.  “Are you done? Really? Laughing at my embarrassment?” She smiled innocently, and he couldn’t help but smile back down at her.  “I remember perfectly though,” He said, beginning to comb his fingers through her hair.  “Because you just cuddled right up to me, you didn’t care at all”

“I was more than happy to spend the night with you, Parker” She told him.

“Okay, well I was nervous, okay?” Peter stated.  “Not that you were, you just- well what you’re doing now” He said, gesturing to her arms folded against his chest, playing with the strings of his sweatshirt.

“Are you trying to refer to cuddling?” She asked, smiling sleepily and shaking with laughter, but the sound was quiet.

“You know what I mean,” Peter mumbled,pulling a blanket up around them.  “(y/n),” He murmured, and she hummed in answer.  “Will you stay the night with me?”

“It’s pretty early in the morning,” She whispered back.  “But I’d love to”

“Good,” Peter smiled, wrapping his arms around the girl and tugging her in closer to keep warm with her body heat.  “I love you so much, baby”

It was a pet name he rarely used, but it made her cheeks heat up and her heart beat faster in her chest.

“I love you too, Spider-Man” She mumbled back.

taglist: @writings-and-stuff @rofromtheashes @tomshufflepuff @steve-avengers-rogers @vibhati123

xoxo ~ jordie

[tarisilmarwen]

Splinters: Mending

(Final chapter woohoo!)

---

"Three, six, one, five!" Kanan called out, his lightsaber making contact with Ezra's with a tinny crackling burst.

Ezra moved through the forms seamlessly, blocking each of Kanan's strikes with a practiced ease.

"Good," Kanan said. "Faster! Three, six, one, five!"

Ezra's teeth clenched a bit and his eyes furrowed in concentration as he tried to keep up with the older Jedi.

"Good. Again!"

They repeated the set a couple more times at the same intense speed. Ezra matched Kanan a little better each round. When Kanan thought Ezra had the movements perfected, he changed the next set up a bit, adding three more attacks and three more defensive forms for Ezra to take to block him.

"Three, six, one, five, one, five, two!" he called out.

Ezra's eyes widened a fraction but he betrayed no surprise otherwise, immediately shifting into the new positions. He stumbled a bit on the last step, and quickly straightened up, hoping Kanan hadn't noticed.

But of course the awkward shuffle of his feet had already given him away.

"Almost. Watch your footing," Kanan said.

"Sorry," Ezra muttered, grimacing.

"Again!"

He deflected perfectly the next time.

Kanan paused a moment, stepping back, listening to the sound of Ezra's heavy panting. "We've been at this a while," he observed. He deactivated his saber. "Why don't we take a break?" he offered with a smile.

Ezra was too breathless to say anything more than a quick, grateful, "Yeah, okay." He powered down his saber, wiping his forehead with the back of one hand as he clipped it to his belt. He started moving towards the ladder that led up into the cockpit

He felt Kanan's arm land around his shoulders suddenly and glanced up to see his master looking warmly at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You've improved so much," Kanan told him, proudly. "I wonder how long I can keep up with you."

Ezra grinned at that. "Getting old, Master?" he quipped.

Kanan released him and reached for the rungs of the ladder. "Well, you know..." he bantered back. "War wounds acting up, joints getting creaky, eyes not working the way they used to."

Ezra flinched at the joke and muffled a groan. "Kanan, that's not funny," he whined.

Kanan paused on the ladder and pinched a bit of air between his fingers. "It's a little funny," he insisted.

"No it... it really isn't," Ezra argued, his face twisting as he followed the older Jedi up into the cockpit.

"Says the kid whose sense of humor is darker than the void of space."

This time Ezra did chuckle. Kanan had a point there.

The two of them stepped down the hallway and entered the common room, where Zeb, Hera, and Rex were gathered around the holotable. Sabine was spray-painting something on a wall in the corner. They all looked up as the two Jedi entered.

"Ezra!" Hera called, getting up and crossing to him with a smile. "I was just about to come looking for you."

"Phantom II need to be scrubbed again?" Ezra guessed.

"I just got the report from Dr. Leslynn," Hera said.

His heart stuttered a little bit. Nervous silt began to crawl at the bottom of his stomach. There was a breath of anticipation passing through him.

Hera was oblivious as she finished. "She's given you the go. She says you're all clear to return to active duty."

Ezra blinked in surprise at that. "She... did?"

The Twi'lek pilot nodded. "There's a mission ready for you if you want in on it," she told him.

"Gonna be a real popper!" Rex said, laughing a bit. "Kalani says he found some old CIS broadcasting equipment out near the Rishi Maze. Wants to bring it back to us, see if we can salvage any parts from it." The old clone shook his head. "Never thought I'd see the day when a clanker offered us his spare parts!"

Zeb grinned, ribbing Rex's shoulder good-naturedly before looking to Ezra. "What d'you say, kid?" he asked. "You wanna come?"

"I..." Ezra trailed off, hesitating.

Sabine's spray nozzle stopped a moment as she looked up in concern, and Ezra felt Kanan's gentle nudge on his mind through the Force. Hera's smile began to dim.

Ezra shook himself, swallowing the uncomfortable feelings in his throat, raising his head with a smile of his own.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm game."

***

"We were supposed to leave for the mission ten minutes ago, where he is?" Rex grumbled, some hours later when the strike team was gathering in the cargo hold. He walked across the hold and called up the ladder. "Hey Hera! Thought the kid said he wanted in on this one?"

Her voice came down the hole a bit muffled. It sounded like she was under the console working on something. "Not now, Rex!" she yelled. "I'm busy!"

Rex squinted, trying to discern the winching tool sounds from each other. "Are you taking the engine relay apart?" he wondered aloud, incredulous.

Zeb scratched behind one of his ears. "You think 'e ran off again?" he asked aside to Kanan.

"He didn't run off," Kanan said automatically, eyes closed and tuned in to the Force. "Feels like he's in the usual spot."

"Oh, his 'brooding corner', of course," Zeb grumbled with a tired eye-roll.

Kanan pushed off the crate he was leaning on, sliding his mask on over his face. "I'll go talk to him."

"No, let me," Sabine said, already moving past him to the ramp. "I think I know what's bothering him." A flush of wind lifted her hair briefly as she trotted out into the open air.

She hurried past the pilots and droids, weaving around other ships as she made her way.

***

She found him shortly, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees and staring into the trees.

"Hey," she called.

He looked up, a bit startled, at the sound of her voice. "Oh! Sabine." Turning forward again he resumed his former slouch. "Hey," he mumbled.

Had not been expecting her, she figured. She crossed her arms as she walked up.

"Everyone else is ready to go and waiting for you," she told him. She stopped just shy of him, a little behind and to the left. "You getting cold feet?" she asked.

She didn't know if he was going to answer for a long moment, but then he gave a heavy sigh.

"Just... just go ahead and tell them I'm not coming," he said miserably.

"Now why would I do that?" she questioned, deliberately making a show of sitting down next to him.

"Sabine—" he started, frustrated.

"Three hours ago you were whining to me about how bored you were and now when you have a chance for a little excitement you're just going to pass it up?" she demanded. She tried to soften her words with a playful nudge against his arm.

He had no reaction to her gesture, except to pull away slightly. "They're better off without me along. If I go I'll just ruin the mission," he said, eyes downcast, muttering his words into his arms.

Sobering, Sabine's smile faded. "What makes you think that?" she asked softly.

"Uh, remember what happened the last time I was allowed on-mission?" he snapped, his eyes flashing hot at the memory. "I messed up everything. If I go back out there the same thing will happen and—"

He broke off, his voice beginning to strain. Sabine watched in alarm as he wiped harshly at his eyes.

"—and I'll just disappoint everyone again," Ezra finished. "It's... it's better that I just... stay here..." His voice was dropping lower, full of intense self-hatred. "...where I can't mess things up." He curled smaller into himself, his face tight.

Sabine felt a flash of hot fury course through her. Oh no you don't, Ezra Bridger, she thought furiously. Don't you dare think about yourself that way!

She wound up and punched him hard in the arm.

"Ow!" he protested, gaping at her with a scandalized expression and rubbing his shoulder fiercely. "What was that for?!"

"Are you gonna stop feeling sorry for yourself or am I gonna have to beat some self-worth back into you?" she sniped at him. He was still staring at her, bewildered, as she grabbed his elbow firmly. "You don't ever," she emphasized, "say those kinds of things about yourself again." She let go, so she could use her hands to gesture. "So you screwed up a mission. Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the last. You wanna know how many ops I busted up when I first started?"

"...Three?" Ezra guessed, still looking at her with confusion.

She smirked. "Try fifteen," she said. She jabbed a thumb at herself. "My issue was that I didn't trust anyone. I kept thinking any moment Kanan or Hera would turn around and make me..." She turned her face aside, flushing with some embarrassment at what she was about to confess she had once believed. "...blow up a civilian administrative building or... use my aerosol paint as some kind of airborne toxin or something."

He gawped at that, eyes widening with offended horror. "Why would you even think they'd do that?" he said.

Sabine nodded vigorously. "Exactly! You think your fears are any less irrational than mine were?" she asked.

He didn't look quite so certain of it now. "Well..." he stammered.

She put her hand on his shoulder-gently this time. "You might screw up, or you might not. Either way, we'll roll with the punches as they come, okay? Like we always do," she said, her voice gentle. "Honestly, what's the worst that could happen?"

His smile was grim, the look in his eyes deadened and numb. "Troopers could get me," he pointed out, quietly. "They could take me away again. Put me back on one of those tables. Make me tell them everything."

Sabine's heart twisted silently. Her hand moved up to the back of Ezra's neck, tightening on his collar. She shifted around to face him better, look him right in the eyes with all seriousness.

"Ezra... you know that none of us are letting the Imps get their hands on you ever again, right?" she asked him softly. "No matter what happens, if it looks like you might be in danger, we'd drop everything and screw the mission to make sure you're safe? That you're more important to us than anything we could do for the Rebellion?" she promised.

He dropped his eyes. "I know."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's just..." He struggled with his words a moment, then gave an aggravated sigh. "I'm supposed to be the one protecting all of you."

Her lips twitched at that, smile pulling at the corners. Stubborn Jedi idiot.

"We'll protect each other. How about that?" she offered.

His face finally broke into a smile at that, weight seeming to lift off his shoulders.

"Sounds fair," he agreed.

Grinning, she pulled back and stood up, offering him her hand. "C'mon," she said. "Let's not keep everyone waiting."

He reached up, putting his palm in hers and letting her pull him to his feet.

***

The retrieval went off without a hitch. Kalani was delighted to see Ezra again and rattled off statistics and data points from old CIS battles against Jedi-led clone troops, Ezra listening with rapt attention and asking dozens of questions about the various Jedi Kalani had encountered. Not to be outdone, Rex told a few of his own stories as well.

Ezra's head was still buzzing with all the history he'd learned when they returned to Yavin IV, docking the Phantom II in its socket and hauling bundles of scrap metal and wires and bits of old transmitters down the ladder.

As they were moving it, Ezra tilted his head. Something felt... off. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

The ship seemed... quieter.

Rex brought the last bundle down from the shuttle, debating something heatedly with Kanan as he did so and Ezra wandered off, moving into the junction and then down the hallway towards the cockpit.

He still couldn't figure out what it was.

He stepped into the cockpit, his eyes scrunched pensively.

"Hera?"

She was still under the naviconsole, her legs sticking out and her head hidden from sight, though it sounded like she was finishing up, putting panels back together.

"Hmm?" she voiced from her position.

Ezra squinted around the room, trying to find something out of place. "Is there something... different? With the Ghost?"

There was a click as a final panel was fitted into place.

"What do you mean?" asked Hera.

"I'm not sure," Ezra answered honestly. "Something... something just feels different or sounds differe—"

He stopped talking, his eyes widening. He turned his head, his ears straining, searching for the familiar mechanical pitch that signified the Ghost's environmental systems were active.

The air was flowing, he could feel it on his face and through the Force, but the too-shrill edge that he hated, that called forth echoes from his memory...

It was gone.

Nowhere to be heard.

His mouth fell open slightly and he gaped at Hera, just now pulling herself out from under the console.

"Did... did you change the pitch of the air filtration system?" he asked.

Hera didn't look at him, wiping her hands off nonchalantly. "Don't know what you're talking about," she denied.

She was nearly bowled over as Ezra's arms flung around her, the boy burying his face against her shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered tremulously.

Her hands came up, tucking him tighter into her embrace, and she pressed a kiss to his temple. "Shh, shh, you don't have to thank me," she whispered back. "I understand."

Ezra pulled back, giving a happy sob, smearing away the tears gathering in his eyes. "I can't believe... Hera, how do I repay you for something like this?" he said.

"You don't have to repay me, Ezra," she told him, hands on his shoulders and squeezing. "Just promise me you'll be here in the morning."

He nodded quickly. With the Ghost's ambient air at a quieter pitch, he felt like something had cleared. The buzzing in his mind was farther away than ever. "I promise," he told her.

She smiled warmly. "Are you hungry? I've made some tuberoot soup."

He laughed lightly, shaking his head, the sheer relief still pinging through him. "I think I'll take that offer," he said.

Hera squeezed his shoulders one last time and then let him go, and he almost stumbled as hurried back down the hall with a lightness that he couldn't believe.

***

He slept soundlessly, without nightmares, for the first time in ages.

---

As always, one last time for this fic, your ever-present chapter notes!

1. The scene of Kanan and Ezra lightsaber training together was one I added. I think originally I just had Hera dropping the news on Ezra. I like it better this way, gives us all another nice little bit of Kanan-Ezra interaction before we close out.

2. And besides, I had to have Kanan make at least one blind joke. I'm still kinda bummed we missed out on that when Season Three came around, the fandom was having a blast having Kanan be all self-deprecating and hilarious that way.

3. Yeah, the scene with Sabine and Ezra was originally a lot shorter too and just kinda snowballed Cripes I love their interaction, someone help me.

4. Protective Sabine is best Sabine. <3

5. And Hera finally does something about that pesky air system! Probably won't stop the nightmares completely but at least it won't sound like the IT-O droid when he wakes up now.

And with that, we come to the conclusion! Thank you all for joining me on Ezra's road to recovery-he's not quite there fully yet, but he's making progress.

There is a third fic planned for this AU (and technically a fourth but one thing at a time) but I'm not sure when I'm going to be able to publish it. I'm hoping to have a good chunk of it pre-written before I start uploading, so I can keep to a consistent update schedule. Hopefully I'll have it started by summer.

Thank you again for reading! I'll see you next time.

[radiodreadzone]

Irredeemable

WC: 4,451

TW: Blood, death and death mentions, mentions of panic attacks.

It was as casual a night as you could call it. A little ridiculous, a little wild and out of the park, all things considered, so far. Gwen had paired me off with two names I’d heard around the Club but never really run with before. Some hot-shot loud-mouth named Icy, and a calmer, reasonable sort in the form of Burrick. Missions with them so far had been...interesting. Icy was full of bluster, if not charming in his own way. I had more fun than I probably should have sassing him over the coms, Burrick occasionally interjecting. 

We weren’t nearly as thorough in our explorations as I was with Muse, Kyle, and Kirby when we all ran together, but it was gloriously chaotic. It was also deliciously funny to hear Icy screeching panicked complaints into the coms. I’d had to crank the volume on mine way down not only to prevent him deafening me like a flashbang, but to keep Sleepers and Lucids alike from swinging in my direction any time that Icy met with any aspect of misfortune.

I’d been following a trail of blood through the Maze, the gravity of the situation of a missing club member slightly shattered by Icy’s continued attempts to lighten the mood. His constant wittering was as ridiculous as it was soothing in a strange way. It kept me from thinking too much, even as he bypassed Sleepers and Lucids with apparent ease as we entered the Plexus. His words were drowned out by the great bellows above, but the hum of his voice over my earpiece was as consistent as ever.

“Looking at all this blood, they’re probably dead!” His tone was light, but I could see the jerkiness to his movements. As nervous as I was, maybe. Or maybe he just wasn’t graceful.

The blood trails when they were this long rarely had happy endings. A small part of my heart fluttered with a vain hope that maybe they would be...even as Icy scoffed at me for saying as much, going on about mortal wounds as we crept into Signal Relay. A Lucid was walking through on patrol, and ignoring Icy a moment, I took careful aim. 

“A robotomy!” Icy declared theatrically, causing me to snort as I took my shot, missing the Lucid’s back by a breadth, and ruffling Icy’s hair as the bolt barreled past.

“Did you just try to shoot at me?!” Icy barked in surprise.

“No. I missed the Lucid.” I stated, lowering my crossbow, even as I smiled slightly at him. Let him think what he wanted. I could already see the mock betrayal flash in his eyes, and I let it fuel my laughter, muffling it with a hand over my mouth at the proximity of the Lucid.

Then I saw the body behind him.

“Oh.” I said softly.

Another one down. Another one we’d lost. “Geeze.” Icy muttered. There was a beat of silence where he shifted from a slight sag in his posture to resume his apparent carefree air. “Well, they’re dead!” He declared into the coms. I could hear Burrick’s resigned sigh on the other end.

One more body that would be imprinted in my mind. They were turned away from me where they lay. I was glad for it. I didn’t need another face to add to the tally in my mind. I kept track. I never told anyone. But every time I saw another one of us down here...gone…

It was haunting, in it’s own way. But would they have anyone who would remember them? Who would tell their family? God. I didn’t even know who they were. But Gwen and Dax did. This would be another hard night for them. Another hard call.

I turned away.

He arrived so quietly and suddenly that had the thought that brushed across my mind not been so at odds with the swell of grief I felt in that moment, I wasn’t sure I would have noticed his presence at all.

SHE HAS GOTTEN AHOLD OF WHOM?

My steps out of Signal Relay stuttered to a halt at the flickering thought of inquiry, leaving me blinking in the half light. I could hear Icy saying something to me in the background, but I missed it in the moment of surprise and confusion. “Sorry...I don’t…?” It was a mad fumbling of words as I tried to gather my wits. He always seemed to catch me off guard.

Thee-I-Dare? Again? He’d been by earlier to speak with a teammate, and whatever they’d discussed had left her...troubled. She’d called it a night and bid us farewell as we’d left for another mission. I hadn’t expected him to come back. Much less to come talk to me.

What had I last told him..?

A flicker of a memory; staring down my reflection in front of the ritual mirror, wringing the worn edge of dad’s jackets in my hands. “Look I...I know you need more allies but...Don't let your sister onto the table.”

“OH!” I gasped, then shut my mouth hastily, staring behind me at the Lucid that I’d left behind. “Oh. She’s picked Chosen is what I meant.” I informed him. The rumors had circulated the boxcar like wildfire. Not only was their a new goddess vying for a space on the table, but she’d also started selecting her champions.

I suppressed a shiver. 

Icy was speaking again. “It was kind of cool that Thee-I-Dare stopped in earlier-”

“He’s back.” I chimed in, cutting him off.

Icy paused on the walkway across from me. “Who?” he asked, caught off guard, “Who’s back?”

“Him.” I threw over my shoulder, slinking in the direction of the Barracks. The rest, lost to the bellows above, was spoken into the radio, to let Burrick into the loop as well. “Thee-I-Dare is here.”

“Oh.” Came Icy’s realization, followed quickly by a swear at a Lucid who’d gotten too close. “What, is he talking to you, now?” 

Surprise colored my tones as I responded, “Yeah. Which...I did not expect at all…” And it was true. It hadn’t been so very long ago that he’d spoken to me last. Usually he’d spend time visiting others, speaking of various matters. His absence for longer windows was...expected. Even if I didn’t always enjoy the silence at times. Somehow Redacre and missions felt a little safer with him around, and I’d always enjoyed his company.

Burrick and Icy’s voices crackled on the radio again, though I couldn’t quite catch the words for the distraction of those that suddenly slipped quietly across my mind, a distant ebb and echo, making itself a prominent place in my attention.

I AM BOUND TO EACH RITUAL IN TURN

“I know...but you’ve…” I began, slinking down the long hallway towards the Barracks, easing down into the shadows there, my restless feet already taking me in the start of a long loop. I struggled to find the appropriate words, and as a result, unfiltered thoughts poured forth instead. “Honestly you’ve talked to me a lot lately. I figured...You had...Is it bad if I thought you had better things to do?” I cut off a moment, wincing, before I made an attempt to correct myself. “That’s not a jab at you, it’s more I feel I don’t say interesting things, sometimes.”

Silence extended for several long moments, leaving me wonder if I’d just choked a Voice to death on the foot I’d just shoved into my mouth. “I just...um…” I tapered off, as he spoke.

SPARROW, YOU FEAR MY SISTER.

To my credit, I didn’t flinch, though I did freeze in my tracks in the shadows. I felt...caught, almost. I didn’t sense admonishment from him, but still, shame burned low fires in my belly. “Yeah…” I admitted around a sigh. “Yeah I do.”

DID YOU THINK I WOULD NOT CARE?

Now I did flinch. 

I think you have better things to do with your time than listen to me be afraid. The words nearly shot out of my mouth, and I bit them back, just in time. Secondary to that came surprise, followed by a dribble of guilt. Yes...in a way I’d expected him to simply...continue on regardless of what I had to say about Seed-The-Grudge. I’d burned that ritual expecting him to consider it...but ultimately I’d thought I was speaking into silence again. The daimons had demonstrated that they always seemed to keep their own plans at the heart of matters, more so than the wishes and fears of the humans that they were hosted within. I guess the mentality had stuck more than I thought it had.

“I…” I stumbled to begin, trying to recover. “Look...I...You...you need allies, right? Every daimon counts?” Especially now. Especially for him. A Voice without a voice. Weaker and fragmented. He needed all the help he could get, even if I was wary of where that help came from. It was for the best if I just...cast that fear aside, right? “I thought...maybe...you know greater good versus...needs of…” I stopped, realizing how much that sounded like something that They would say. The individual less worth the effort than the group’s safety and purposes. “Fuck, that’s Their thinking. God. I just.” Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair, fleeing the Barracks, heading back into the roar of the Plexus in an attempt to drown my own raging thoughts.

“I want to help you and I’m more used to...putting my own fears aside to help other people, I guess…” More secrets of self. It cut, admitting it to Thee-I-Dare. More weaknesses for him to know and understand. He didn’t judge, but at some point I expected him to step back and realize that in this town, in this struggle, I might not have what it took, even if I fought for it. “But yeah…” I finished softly, sliding off into the tunnels below a Somniloquy. “She scares me. She...I told you why. With my parents.”

He was silent for a few moments. I let it draw itself out, waiting, keeping my attention focused around me as I watched a Sleeper patrol past before I hauled myself up out of the underbelly of the Somni.

SLEEPERS SHE WOULD AVOID KILLING.

Some relief flickered in my chest.“Right. And I know...I think that’s what happened to my mom.”  If this new daimon started on a warpath, my mother might be safe. But...That was only half of it. “My dad…” I could hear the unease starting to creep back into my voice. “They picked him for some kind of project? A work project? And he hasn’t been home in a long time. I’m starting to think that maybe...whatever he’s doing for them is willing…” I had harbored the hunch for a long time. A fear never given voice. It felt too much like willing it to truth that way. 

He’d been gone so long. I could see the tired looks mom threw out the window sometimes, her eyes sad. She missed him even if she never gave a voice to it. I’d joined the Club in part to find him. To find out what had happened to him. To figure out what had taken him so far from us. 

YOU BELIEVE HE KNOWS OF IT ALL?

A chill that had nothing to do with the Maze crept over me. I saw my dad’s face in my mind’s eye. I pictured him here. In the Maze, wearing Their garb. I shuddered, shouldering open the door that lead to Dream Therapy. The green light was softer than the harsh glare within the Somni, and I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust as I shifted to the strange, man-made tree-tops. “I...I don’t know.” I admitted softly, wringing my hands around my crossbow. My eyes cast out across the twisted wood, the shifting fog, and the deep abyss beyond the catwalks.

“It’s...my best guess? We haven’t talked to him.” Not for a long time. It was like he’d drop off the face of the earth for days at a time. Then mom would tell me he called. I’d never spoken to him since he’d left. After being in the Club as long as I had...I’d wondered if he’d truly talked to her at all. What he was doing and what he was up to. The creeping suspicions were there. A deep rooted fear without a foundation, but stabilized by plausible evidence. “He’s the one that got the job offer from CHORUS. The reason why we moved here?” Well. Part of the reason anyway. I cast that thought away before the sharp pang could follow it.

Dad was a structural engineer. Military background. He was in good physical condition. Smart as a whip. I remember him saying that the offer that they’d made him was good. Really good. I wondered what else had been at play, now. What other subtle influences had crept in through the open windows of his mind. I drew my jacket tighter around myself. I could see him down here in the Maze with alarming clarity, if I tried to entertain the thought. And that worried me. 

“So it...seems to fit. Not that I would ask Them about it...The last thing I need is for Them to use that against me if he is.” ...Too bad that the ship on that had already sailed. One Light sent in a fit of grief and anger. They don’t know his name. They don’t know who he is. The thoughts were there, attempting to soothe me, even as the anxiety dwelled in the back of my head like a creeping vine. I wrapped my arms across my body, holding tight, stilling me, and waited in the deep silence.

SPARROW. IF HE IS ONE OF THEM…

The words came at last. I froze in their wake, fearing his next words. Waiting for what I felt in my chest could be words that damned or saved him.

IF SHE DOES NOT KILL HIM. YOU  MAY

My heart just...stopped. My breathing froze. The low drip of water and rumble of the Maze faded away as I focused on those words burned in my head. The image I held in my head of my father fractured. Vanished. 

Gone forever.

Just like Jacob.

I cringed so violently away from that thought that I physically recoiled. My voice came out a low hiss, barely a death rattle as I tried to suck in air that my body had forgotten how to process. “I don’t want to do that.” It sounded loud even as I rasped it, cracking across what had been silence prior. “I can’t. I can’t lose another person!” The burn of tears came again, and I was helpless to stop them as I felt them track down my face. A hand came up trying to muffle myself.

This is dangerous. You’re too loud. You’ll blind yourself if you cry.

It was a thought that I only had the ability to heed for a few moments before another crashing wave of grief, both old and new, buffeted me again. “I can’t lose another part of my family!” I whispered. “That’s why I don’t want her around! That’s why I’m trying to save people!” I was desperate to make him understand. These fears. They weren’t unfounded. I’d lost too much already. Didn’t he realize? Had he not lost too? Did he not remember those Hosts we had found? Their ghosts that lingered in the Maze and haunted him when we asked? 

How could he say that?

My radio crackled. I heard my name, called in Icy’s voice, followed by a yell. I stirred from my own private reverie. One hand wiped at my face as another reached down to grab the radio and flick the volume back up so I could hear him.

“Yeah?” I asked, hearing how muffled and small my voice sounded. I cleared my throat once, twice, trying to fix it. But I couldn’t choke anything else past the knot that had affixed itself there.

“It’s really awkward without you sassing me, what’s going on?”

“Not good things!” I managed to get out. The false cheer in my voice was obvious. I couldn’t bring myself to fix it. To smile at the banter. I couldn’t bring myself to do much of anything. Move. Breathe. I was now a machine of limited perpetual motion. If I froze any longer, I’d lay down and cease to move all together. I couldn’t let that happen. I bolted from Dream Therapy, seeking out the nook within the walls of Host Conditioning. That would be my next destination. Something to focus on.

“Well that’s not good.” Came Burrick’s quiet voice.

Icy followed not long after. “Ah. Sounds delightful, what’s going on?”

Right. I hadn’t explained much of anything. More vagueness. More hiding and secrets.

My voice was absurdly small against the empty air of The Throat, the giant body of the Maze echoing slightly as I finally managed to find my voice again. “I may have to kill my dad. If Seed-The-Grudge doesn’t get to him first…”

There was silence on the other side of the coms. Icy was the first to recover. “Ooh...that’s...that’s bizarre.” I could hear the puzzlement and shock that had crept into his voice, despite his best attempts to hide it. “...It is Thee-I-Dare you’re talking to, right?”

I hadn’t thought about that. Hadn’t bothered to verify or check. But I...I was certain it was. He’d come to me asking directly about a prayer I’d sent to him. I...I never said his name in it, I realized. More recoiling, more fear. Too much. Too much. I would trip myself right into a panic if I wasn’t careful.

I sniffed, lifting the radio again. “I think he means more like...collateral damage?” Did he? Or did he mean it seriously when he said I had to kill my father? Was it supposed to be an honor? Or an accident? I didn’t...couldn’t...understand. Not in that moment. My thoughts were too much of a blur. I chose to focus on something else. Before I got myself killed down here.

His words slipped forth again, doing little to soothe the ache in my chest at their crack and burn across my mind.

THE LUCIDS ARE BEYOND REDEMPTION.

I flinched back into the alcove. Beyond redemption. The thought repeated itself at full blast. Like an echo chamber across my mind. More tears slipped silently down my face, even as I bit down on my tongue, refusing to break more at the words, even as I could feel myself buckling.

No. God. Please no.

Icy broke through the din again, his voice shattering my panic. “Right uh...You need to start from the beginning.” 

Did I? Had I not been clear enough? I didn’t...I didn’t want to go through all of that. Not again. I…

“Sparrow, what’s going on?” He pressed.

I needed this to stop. I couldn’t do this from two sides. Not now. “Can I...can I take a moment later and tell you?” I managed weakly, begging in my head that he would leave it at that. That he would stop pressing.

“Sure.” He finally said. I sagged against the cold wall. “We’ll have a meeting back at the train car.”

“Sounds fine.” I whispered, relief leaking through me in a sluggish trickle.

“Tell Thee-I-Dare that ...that's not a very nice thing to say.” He came back through the radio one more time, ending his words on a nervous laugh before he called out to Burrick, rallying them both.

I remained there in the dark, pressed against the stone. I was sure in that moment that it was all that was holding me up, even as I stared blankly into the shadows and light of the room. My senses were strained. Waiting for him to say something else. Nothing came. So instead, I met the silence with my own torrent.

“I don’t...I know that...they serve Them but that’s my dad, Thee-I-Dare! I can’t just write that off! It’s not that simple!” Again, trying to impress the point upon him. I don’t know if he even...understood. Their idea of family was so different. So full of hate and anger. Rivalries and fighting. Did they know what it was to love someone so dearly that it felt like your heart was torn from your chest when they went somewhere you couldn’t follow? Could they even understand what it was like to lose a part of yourself irreparably? If any could..I’d thought he’d be the closest but…

SPARROW...IT IS NOT ME.

I COULD LIE. I CHOOSE NOT TO.

Some distant, cold part of me respected that. Respected that he would tell me the truth in this moment. Comfort while well and good did nothing in the long run. Did nothing to fix things when truth was necessary. 

Another part of me was so so frightened. 

My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, cluttered by the sniffles that tried to keep my nose from running haphazardly down my face. “I know. I just…This hurts. This hurts. And I...I know but...God.” I hadn’t meant to get emotional. A mission was no place for that, and made things riskier. I tried to pull myself back together. Tried to rally.

You can fall to pieces later. Not now. Not here.

“Either way.” I tried. “I get it. I don’t like it but I get it.”

No you don’t. You don’t understand at all. 

THEN YOU LEAVE REDACRE. FLY.

My head shot up, startled. That wasn’t what I had expected from him. What? My mouth hung open, working for a moment around words I couldn’t find or format. Finally I managed something as rationality kicked back into gear in the face of shock. “How am I supposed to do that? They’ve got us blocked in from all sides. I’m stuck here until something gives.” He’d asked the impossible of me.

WE CRIPPLE THEM, AND YOU RUN.

I stood there frozen, eyes wide. Realizations trickled in. How much risk that would be. How much he was offering. My mind tried and failed to process it, to accept it. More words tumbled forth from me. “...then what about the Club? What about you?” What would happen?

YES. BUT WE SPEAK OF YOUR ENDGAME

I felt dizzy. I couldn’t think straight again. I bolted for the other room. Seeking the tunnels that led to the bunker, led back to clear night air. It took until the hatch into the backyard had been shouldered open before I could find my tongue. Before I could think past humming static and noise in my head.

I couldn’t help but ask more of him. It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “I don’t know if...if in that endgame. Does my family get to come?” His offer...it sounded too good to be true. But...could...could we all make it out of here? Could we run? Could we get away from this place? 

Could you even convince someone willingly participating in this to do that?

I flinched. 

“Is that even a possibility or with all this going on...is it just going to be me?” I threw myself over a fence, hiding in the tall grass on the other side. Before me the empty, yawning air beyond the Leap expanded outwards, the sight of the town visible below an endless expanse of stars.

THE ODDS DO NOT FAVOR GROUPS.

Alone then.

I sat there staring off the Leap.

For a moment, I could see it all. A thread unspooling before me. A future away from Redacre. I could break free of here. I could run. Survive, like he always told us to. I would never have to worry about Them. I would be beyond their reach. I could go find my grandma. I could be free. I wouldn’t have to be afraid again.

It was tempting. 

More than it should have been.

But...Alone. No Mom. No Dad. Left alone to their fate here. Muse. Kyle. Still left fighting for what they believed in. What I believed in. 

It would shatter every promise I’d made for the sake of saving myself.

“...then that’s the coward’s way out.” My tone was hard, even as the words that slipped from me were quiet on the night air. “And I won’t do that.” I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “I won’t leave everybody. I won’t leave my dad. I won’t leave my mom. I can’t leave Muse or Kyle to face this.” I took a deep, fortifying breath. Something solidified in my gut. Something that felt less like a stone and more like…

Resolve.

“I’m scared of a lot of things but...I’m not a coward.”

SOUNDS LIKE A CHOICE. I RESPECT IT.

I had no sense for his tone. Had no idea if he found my decision to be a good one or utterly foolish. He didn’t judge. Not to our faces, anyway. I’m sure he had his own thoughts on each of us.

I shut my eyes, rubbing jacket sleeves across the sticky trails that remained on my face, slowly drying in the night air. “We’ll see what happens with it.” It was low, nearly lost to the soft hum of crickets that had begun chorusing in my stillness.

A pause. Then:

OUR RITUAL TIME ENDS, MY SPARROW.

My eyes opened again. My Sparrow. Maybe it had been the right choice then. Maybe I wasn’t a fool for all I’d done. There was a wry twist in my chest at the thought that I cared so much for the endearment. That it acted like a marker for how he saw me.

You’re a fool, Sparrow.

I turned away from that thought, before it could start down a path of doubts. Before I could remember accusing texts and notes scrawled in a boxcar.

“I know.” There was a pause. “Thank you...for telling me.” I expelled a long, slow breath. “I’ll have to think about things.” When I could think again. When all of this stopped being a confusing circuit in my head.

I WILL BACK YOU, EITHER WAY.

“It’s appreciated.” I whispered. Even now, even in my tumult, it was good to know that when things were at their worst, there was something, someone, there to back me up. 

SURVIVE.

And then he was gone to the night.

I stayed there curled in the grass. Quiet. Thinking. 

He’d offered me an out. 

It still rang in my head. Then you leave Redacre.

What would have happened if I’d said yes? What would it have cost him to let me even try? His Hosts, his chosen were so few. The resources at his disposal limited. And yet he’d still offered.

In that moment, he’d seen me not as a resource. Not as a Club member, not as something to help him win this war, but just Sparrow. A scared kid who was neck deep in things she didn’t understand.

But...he’d also told me that my father had to die if my suspicions proved correct.

It sat like a weight on my chest. 

Now what will you do?

I allowed myself another few seconds to sit. To think.

Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes to fix this.

I stood and picked up my radio. “Alright. We’re good to go, guys.”