#I will eventually get to the second chapter of recurring nightmare though

[suzuki-violin-school]

One part of me wants to work on this shigaraki series I'm writing

Another part of me wants to work on the one bakugo wip I have going

But another, third part of me is instead working on another chapter of Alrighty

#gotta admit I love writing for the alrighty series though #I have a bajillion different beginnings to wips for it #so many chapters that may or may not be written because I'm bad at finishing wips but still #so much potential #I will eventually get to the second chapter of recurring nightmare though #and this new kiribaku x reader piece I started is too good not to finish #but first #this

[oftenderweapons]

Every Little Tomorrow | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 2.8k

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt to comfort

Rating: suggested 18+

Synopsis: As they make their way back to each other, and adjust to the changes their lives are going through - and will have to go through - Namjoon and Vixen step into the next chapter of their lives together.

Warnings: There are angsty bits related to self-consciousness due to pregnancy and post-partum body. Extremely serious topics are touched, such as intimacy issues, the husband stitch, medical malpractice, and birth complications. Some side-effects of pregnancy are also mentioned (mostly light topics, such as body temperature, hormonal imbalances, and other blood-flow related issues). If you are sensitive to themes such as "bouncing back" after a pregnancy, and fearing your partner might leave you after your body changes, or that your intimate life might come to a halt after having a child, this fic could feel a bit heavy, though Vixen's worries are met with understanding and tenderness on Namjoon's behalf.

If you have struggled or are struggling with accepting your body after bearing a child/children, or you think that becoming a parent put a strain on your relationship, I want you to know I am close to you and you can come to me to just rant and let it all out. You are not alone, and you are understood. Your feelings are always, always valid. I love you, and I've got you 💜

As usual, I'm leaving you my masterlist linked right here, and the fic's below the cut!

Your index finger ran aimlessly up and down the bridge of Namjoon’s nose. You were propped on your elbow, the comforter rolled up to cover your naked chest. 

He looked so peaceful. 

The last five months had been a nightmare. When you’d decided, together, for you to go off the pill, you hadn’t expected anything, and he hadn’t either. 

You’d just been happy at the prospect of someday, potentially, eventually, starting a family. In the future. 

Neither of you had meant it as a “right now”. It was more of a “if we get pregnant, we’ll arrange”. Even more of a “we’ve stopped not wanting kids”. 

But going from that to actually having them…

You just shook your head and chuckled at the irony of it all. 

Of course you’d got pregnant way before either of you — and your obgyn — had expected. 

And the fact that Namjoon had been working way more than usual, to the point that he sometimes stayed at the studio— well, it had bugged you to the point that when you found out you were pregnant and he forgot about the dinner you had arranged to tell him, you had decided to put him on hold. 

He had managed to bring you home a few days after your escape, mostly because morning sickness and your general wellbeing were putting you at risk. 

The main reason you were convinced was that it wasn’t just one baby you were carrying, but two twins, and with Namjoon’s recurring nightmares you couldn’t afford leaving him alone. 

The two months following your return home were almost as difficult as the two months spent in his absence. 

It was constant fits and starts, with Namjoon’s enthusiasm and your cold feet, your fear, your health continuously wobbly. 

And the cold. You’d never felt so cold, and a few seconds later, you were hot all over. Your body entirely lost its homeostatic function. As if your blood wasn’t enough to keep you heated through the day, and then suddenly it came all bubbling up.

You ran him insane with your kicking off the blankets, then burrowing back in them, then asking for more of them, just to start all over again five minutes later. You went about your day in a t-shirt, with a button down on top, with a sweater on top, and then an extra throw in your bag, just in case the cold got to you. Not to mention the fact that you started storing a blanket even in your office, and your feet, for now only occasionally swollen, were perpetually freezing.

You were scared all of the time, and when you weren’t scared, you were either nauseous or hungry. Sometimes both, which is a seriously ludicrous and unfortunate combination. 

And Namjoon treated you like a vessel made of glass, always considerate, always gentle, to the point that it almost hurt being around him. 

You just wanted him back, the way it used to be, your reckless, relentless lover, and not this museum guard who treated you like a delicate painting — or maybe, the frame of it, because for several weeks it was like you were simply the person carrying his children. Not his wife, not his lover, not his person. 

You spent hours crying in secret, imposter syndrome choking you as you felt pampered and loved just as a means to an end, as a way to love the babies inside you, and not the person that you are. 

It was a slow, heart-shattering agony, until you told him, broken and exhausted, that you couldn’t handle it. 

But now, there you are, his heart strong under the palm of your hand. 

You aren’t cold, mostly because of the thermoregulating blanket he’s got you. But also because of your husband. 

His eyes open, lazy slits shining just a shard of his pupils as he aims his gaze your way. “Was I good enough?” he asks, a lopsided smirk on his face.

You nod. 

After almost a month of therapy, you and Namjoon have found a way to reconnect, and it felt so right. 

After rushed encounters that felt more like hooking up than making love, today had been it. 

Today felt like a milestone. 

Your hand traces his stomach. “You’re always good to me.” 

“Last time I wasn’t.” 

You wait, tracing patterns on his skin, collecting your thoughts. Last time you’d been so passive, almost indifferent, that you’d both given up on having sex in that moment. 

“Last time was complicated. I felt very… Disconnected.” You try to get closer to him but your belly gets in the way. It’s not large yet, but it’s there, foreign, somehow.

Namjoon reads the disappointment in your eyes and rolls you onto your other side, spooning you. “It scared me. We’re already struggling with our words, and when we don’t talk things out we usually— I felt like I was losing you for real.” 

You sniffle. “It’s because I was losing myself, first and foremost. How could I help you hear me when I couldn’t hear myself?” 

Namjoon kisses your nape, the side of your neck, your temple. “But we’re here now. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He pauses. “I’ve got you, on top of all my priorities.” He cups your face, kissing you on the mouth as you both stretch. “Just you. My wife. My companion. And then it’s the kids. But they will always, always come after you, okay? Even if it’s just a millisecond, they come after you, love.” 

You burrow yourself deep into his hold. 

“You know about my parents… They never loved each other like we do. They married, they fell into a polite companionship. Mother had me, and birthing me left permanent marks on her. Father loved her so much he never asked for another child after me, but I guess Mother always blamed herself for not giving him a son. A heir.” 

Namjoon noses at your hair, his fingers tracing the ridges of your collarbones. “I guess you never told me.” 

You shrug. “Having me created a gap between my parents. I don’t want us to be like that.” 

He hums in acknowledgement. “But you said it first. They never loved each other like we do.” 

You turn your head to the side, your hand wrapping around his. “I’m afraid still, at times. We won’t have the time or the energies we had before. I’ll be tired. My body will change, I won’t have as much time as before to take care of myself, and the twins—” You shake your head. “They’ll destroy me, Namjoon.” 

Fear grips him out of the blue. He grips you harder. “I won’t allow them. I don’t care about how your body will change. No ‘bounce back’ bullshit in here. You will have the body of a wondrous woman who grew not one, but two lives inside her. In my personal perspective, that’s an honour. Large one. But I’m here for it all. You want surgery to go back to what you used to be? Fine, I’ll book all the appointments with all the best surgeons. You want to have free weekends without the kids? I’ll arrange. We’ll find babysitters. And I’m their father, it’s not like you’re parenting alone, okay?” 

“What if you don’t like me anymore?” Your voice is weak, fragile. “I mean, I’ll change down there too and—” 

“And what? I won’t enjoy having sex with you?” You can tell he’s stressing by the way he was struggling to hold you. “You think I’m going to love you less? You think I’m going to crave any less the feel of being inside you?” He shakes his head. “I’m speechless.” 

You turn around fully this time. 

“You think I’m a piece of garbage like that?” 

You frown, sadness like a cloak on your linings. “I’m not saying that, I’m just worrying whether we’ll have that same connection, the chemistry that brings us together.”

He cradles your face and kisses your lips. “You have no idea, do you? The effect that you have on me. You’re my ride or die, babylove. You were since the night I almost lost you, when you called it quits. Remember? Before you came to my studio, and I told you that I love you.” Namjoon presses his forehead to yours and it almost hurts. “I bet my everything on you, Vixen. We gotta win this race. And then we’ll keep running, baby.” He breathes in your exhale, the two of you coexisting as an ecosystem of your own. Outside the room, a raging concrete jungle grows, a whole metropolis full of millions of people. But again, that is outside your room. 

Now, here, it’s just Namjoon and you and the twin war drum hearts beating inside your belly. 

“We’ll keep running,” you say, brushing your cheek against Namjoon’s chest like a needy cat. 

“I’ve married you because I know you’re the only woman who I trust running as fast and as hard and as reckless as I do.” His voice cracks, and you try to comfort him more fiercely. “I know that sometimes being by my side is being condemned to run through the most unkempt paths, exploring, never feeling entirely safe, always feeling like I’m giving more attention to the scenery than to my companion. I know it sucks and sometimes I feel guilty for dragging you into this. But if it’s not you, then it’s nobody else, fox. No one else I’d be doing this with.”

Your eyes water, the hormones bringing you to the brink of tears. “Don’t say it like that. I knew what I was getting myself into. You’re not the only one who needs running. You’re not the only one who needs someone who can keep the pace.” You chuckle, even through the lump in your throat, through the tears. “You really think I’d have let anyone else blow me up like a balloon with their ginormous babies?” 

You manage to make Namjoon chuckle with that, which pleases you immensely. 

You even puff your chest in that specific “I’m extremely proud of my win” way.

“I wouldn’t have, sir. I’m doing this because I trust you.” You hold his face and he holds yours, both of you drying the tears the other has shed. “But I swear to god, if I get less sex, less love and less time than before, I will sue you. I will make Kitten draw won after won out of you. Understood?” 

He nods with surety. “But we’d go to therapy first and we would look for a way to solve things. Like we’re doing now.” 

“You think you’re the only ride or die in here?” You click your tongue in disappointment. “Nope. I have every interest in keeping you, so I won’t let go until I can’t hold you anymore. And I have two extra reasons not to let go, now. Two very large, very active and potentially very expensive reasons not to let go.” 

He chuckles. “Good thing money’s not an issue.” 

You arch your eyebrows in surprise. “You think I’m joking? Do you know the cost of a child?! In this economy?! Go figure two of them!”

Namjoon laughs harder and pulls you closer. “Come here, smart mouth. Let me worry about the economy. You just push these two out and make sure you make it out okay.” 

You bite your lip at the comment, knowing how much it costs him to joke on something he had nightmares about. 

“Can I keep them in here for another year or so…? Just to make sure they’re really, really ready.”

Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his fingertip, his eyes deep and reassuring and meaningful as he scans your face, looking for any trace of fear. “I can’t allow you to hold them hostage. I want to see them. I want to touch their little hands and their tiny feet. You feel them with you everyday, all day long. I wish I could have that too.” 

You comb his hair away from his face, conveying the sweetness you feel for him. “I can lend them to you, if you’d like. Just so I can properly stretch at least for a few hours a day.” 

He tuts and sighs, playfully disappointed by your light-hearted joke. “I’m not kidding. Right now all I think of is that song about swapping places. I wish I could swap with you right now. Just to feel them live inside me. Feel them awaken and stretch and—” 

“Trust me, a lot more unpleasant, a lot less romantic.” 

His giggle caresses the hair at your temple. 

“They nap on your spine. Sometimes they move and suddenly you’re ready to fart so loud you’re gonna wake up the neighbours.”

Namjoon bursts out laughing so explosively that you aren’t even embarrassed about admitting that. You are overpowered by the joy of hearing him so undeniably, unarguably happy. 

“And that’s when you’re not thinking about pushing them out. Do you know how common it is for the perineum to rip?” 

Namjoon stops laughing. “Rip what?” 

“That lovely patch of skin that stretches from the bottom edge of the opening of the vagina to the anus. That can rip.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

You nods. “That’s why I’m worried about sex. You rip there and they’ve gotta stitch you up—”

“Stitch you up?” He is visibly shocked.

“Yes, they stitch the skin so it seals back, but it takes weeks to heal. Sometimes they even add an extra stitch. To make it tighter, you know.” 

He blinks and frowns. “What?” 

“It’s called the husband stitch. The entrance gets tighter because they make it smaller. They stitch back together more than what actually ripped.” 

“And people get that? Willingly? I mean, women want that?” 

You shrug. “Sometimes they do. Sometimes they’re not even conscious and it’s the husband making the decision.”

“Do you want that?” Namjoon asks, apprehensive and concerned. 

“I kind of don’t. It’s gonna be a warzone down there for a long time. It feels like it’s a silly thing to do. And tighter means more painful, so— It could just rip again, of course, there’s that too.”

Namjoon hisses, a disgusted look on his face. “Why would one do that…” 

“Pleasure. Wanting to feel ‘new’ again. Going back to before one had kids. The list goes on.” You toy with a lock of his hair, staring at it to avoid making eye contact with him. He still searches for your gaze. 

“And you don’t want that.”

“You’re not the kind of man who lacks in measures. And I’ll try fix my pelvic floor with appropriate exercises. But the thing with the hymen — the skin around the entrance — is that it’s elastic. Of course it won’t bounce back to what it used to be, but I’d rather it be a bit too loose than so tight that every time we have sex I feel like crying.”

Namjoon nods. “I never thought this existed in real life.”

You snicker bitterly. “Oh, it does. And there’s more of it.”

“What’s that called again? The stitch?” 

“Husband stitch.”

“I’ll look that up. It’s insane. And you tell me there are men who willingly tell their partner they want that?” Namjoon seems seriously concerned about the idea. 

“Yes. Some couples agree, others don’t. In some cases it’s the man giving permission to it without consulting his partner. Sometimes it’s the doctor that adds stitches, without anyone requesting them.”

Namjoon stays silent for several seconds before he exhales, collecting his thoughts. “We’ll talk about this with your obgyn. We’ll specify we both don’t want it and we’ll sue for malpractice if that happens.” He seems extremely resolute about his decision. After a while, he adds, “Do you think they’ll agree to belly binding? I read about it the other day and I mean, after carrying two babies I guess you could really benefit from it. Also, since you’re worried about your postpartum, and how much the belly will bother you afterwards, I think binding could be also for aesthetic reasons over the obvious health ones.”

You agree. “We’ll discuss it with the doctor. I really should make a folder with all the information we’re discussing, since twins usually come out early. We really don’t know when they’re gonna come.”

Namjoon pats your head and kisses the crown of it, your growing belly causing your and Namjoon’s body to turn into two very protective parentheses, bracketing the precious treasure the two of you made together.

“I can send an email in the morning. Just to make sure the stitch situation is laid down clearly. And for the binding.”

You nod, eyes fluttering close at his soothing touch. “Do you wanna hear about nipple calluses?” you ramble, half asleep.

“WHAT?!”

Thank you for reading! Always remember that a reblog and/or a comment can make a writer's day!

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x vixen #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon scenario #namjoon x yn #namjoon hurt to comfort #namjoon fanfic

[redwinterroses]

I’m doing my very best not to format this as a literary analysis paper but that’s basically what this is so forgive me if I slip back into those old habits at all. And I'm going to tag @betweenlands and @fluffy-papaya in this because guys look what your fic made me brainrot. XD

(This is a long one, y'all. We're talking 2k words. Sorry.)

That said:

Hey, let’s talk about the bead curtain in Dog at the Door.

That dang bead curtain, and why I’m currently fixating on it, and how I think it has symbolism that may or may not be intentional.

(At this point, I’m assuming it’s intentional. Everything about this fic is intentional. Including the pain. Heh. “The only difference between a running gag and a recurring theme is how seriously you take it,” says Solar. Cool. I’m taking it seriously.)

The curtain first shows up in chapter one. It’s one of the first things we see in the van, and the first thing we know about it is that Doc finds it obnoxious. Ugly. Revolting. Renbob loves it, obviously, but Renbob has odd tastes. Doc, on the other hand, literally uses his hatred of the curtain to motivate him to get out of bed in the morning.

The Red King, when he shows up, also has similar dislike of the thing, but his reaction is a little more measured, a little less extreme. More distaste, less disgust. He finds it “distasteful” and compares it to wearing a labcoat without a shirt (lol). But he doesn’t loath it like Doc does, and when Doc suggests (in chapter 13) that they take it down and use it for friendship bracelets, he’s as displeased with that idea as Renbob is. He has an ambivalent opinion, overall.

And then Ren. Ren actually reacts the least to the curtain—but ends up with the most dramatic interaction with it, which we’ll come back to in a second. He simply says (chapter 24) that normally he’d find the beads hideous, but that the light of Doc’s eye reflecting off it into the shadows makes it oddly peaceful.

There’s exactly one other use of the word “curtain” in this fic, and it’s this line right here:

“I haven’t done anything but possess him and lead his soul back to the controls.” RK throws his hands up in the air. “He’s put himself behind the curtain because he thinks I’m out to get him. My only crime is the original contract I made with him, doctor.”

In this instance, RK is talking about their “imperfect metaphor” of Ren being behind the curtain that separates the “driver’s seat” from the rest of the van that is Ren’s mind/soul. He’s saying that Ren has deliberately put himself in a position of defeat and surrender because he (Ren) doesn’t think there are any other options.

M’kay. Right about now, any sane person is going, “Red. Why are you so fixated on this bead curtain. It’s a running joke at best.”

And... I mean, sure. Kinda. But also definitely not.

This is the part where I really step out on a potentially-shaky limb with all the confidence in the world, because here’s what I'm seeing: the dividing line between life and death is often portrayed in literature as a curtain.

(And it’s interesting to note that the curtain is a barrier, a separation, but it’s only a curtain, and this one is made of beads at that. It’s a flimsy and fluid barrier, easy to pass through. Back and forth. Surrender and control, life and death.)

In fact, even in this fic it’s used that way: RK may be referring to the metaphorical bead curtain in their van of an explanation for how his and Ren’s relationship works, but in the story at that point Ren is convinced that he’s dead. Or is supposed to be dead. And by putting himself “behind the curtain,” he’s surrendering to that. Almost insisting on it, because that’s the truth of how he sees the world right then and he can’t process any other possibilities. He’s basically saying “I’m supposed to be dead, and this side of the curtain is death, so that’s where I’ll stay.”

So if the curtain in the metaphor represents the two sides of that, it’s really interesting to look at the various characters’ reactions to the literal bead curtain and see how it reflects their attitudes toward death—and specifically Ren’s death.

Renbob is... chill. He has an entirely comfortable relationship with the bead curtain, with life and death, with his own emotions—even with dealing with the emotions of the others he’s chauffeuring across the universe. While he isn’t immune to the grief of losing (or thinking he’s lost) Ren, he deals with it in a relatively healthy way—at least as much as we see. I think there was a possibly-canon ask at some point that said he was journaling and meditating so... yeah. Renbob’s got this. And 50 other bead curtains in storage. He’s the only character in the fic who passes in and out of the curtain regularly and without it being a big deal.

To put it simply: Renbob is on good terms with whatever happens in life, up to and including the end of it. (Renbob is arguably the equal and opposite of Grimdog. Two sides of the same coin in more ways than one.)

Contrast that now with Doc. Doc is... not a fan of the bead curtain. It represents a loss of control to him, (“freakin’ hippies”) and a separation from what he loves. In the past, he and Ren were on opposite sides of that conflict, and the beads still somewhat represent that tension (though in a mostly nostalgic, and not actively-antagonistic way.) But the language Doc’s narration uses to describe the beads is strong. “Obnoxious.” “Accursed.” “Horrendously evil.”

Nearly as scary as his best friend trying to kill him.

It’s played for laughs, obviously, and it is funny. But if we project the symbolism of “the curtain represents death” onto Doc’s reactions, it gets a bit less amusing. And it really fits with Doc’s attitude toward Ren’s death in the whole fic. It’s the worst thing he’s ever faced—to the extent that until RK’s seemingly-permanent presence forces him to, Doc doesn’t even try to process it. He goes right to work on the prosthetics, growls at anyone who tries to make him do anything he doesn't want to do, accepts RK as “New Ren,” and pretends that he’s going on with life.

He refuses to look at how weird the whole situation is, because if he does that he has to deal with Ren being gone forever. He ignores the thing that’s right under his nose and pretends it’s not there until a moment of quiet or actually having to interact with it brings it back to his attention, and then his reaction is vitriolic.

Doc hates that curtain, and he hates the concept of death, the concept of losing control. Even in his nightmares, he holds tight to what little control he can take, even if it’s just taking the initiative to sit in the snow and let it kill him faster. Hold onto that thought, because I’ve got more to it, but we have to talk about RK and Ren first.

RK holds both distaste and acceptance of the curtain. He doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t want it destroyed either. The distaste, notably, is when he’s with Doc, and the acceptance comes from being around Renbob. The Red King, as a blood god, is not exactly unfamiliar with death. It’s literally in his job description, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. A necessary evil, if you will.

It doesn’t hurt either that, at least up until Ren, RK has always been the one on the other side of the curtain, completely in control of the situation. He goes back and forth on his attitudes, but in the past he has been the one in control and the bringer of death. His reaction is negative, but not emphatic—the way someone who has plenty of indoor plans might react to a rainstorm.

Ren... now, Ren. Ren has, like I said, the least recorded reaction to the actual, physical bead curtain. But. But. While he normally would call it hideous, “there’s something oddly peaceful about watching light fractals spin off the walls, cutting off into the shadows.” The shadows, it’s worth noticing, are specifically implied to be RK/hiding RK in this moment. Doc’s light and RK’s shadows interacting with the curtain bring peace to Ren. He passes through it easily to find Renbob.

Ren has already accepted his death—he accepted it long before the fic even started—to an extent that he’s actively insisting on it for a large portion of the story. It’s only when he realizes that Doc is in potential danger that he starts fighting RK for control of the situation again. (“Stay away from Doc, you bastard. He wasn’t part of our bargain. Leave him alone.”)

He dislikes the bead curtain, but he doesn’t hate it, and when seen in the (literal) light of Doc’s protective, watching eye—even if he is asleep at the moment, bless—even the shadows of RK’s presence are suddenly beautiful and peaceful to him in a way that, without the “reflecting fractals” of the beads, wouldn’t be possible. Again: this is the chapter where Renbob’s influence is felt, and his peace with life and death directly affects Ren and his reactions. (“It’ll all sort itself out, eventually, and I’ll be here for you while it does.”)

And then...

And then Ren rips down the curtain altogether.

The separation is gone. For better or for worse, that divide between control and surrender, between RK and Ren, between life and death... it’s gone. It’s scattered across the floor of the van, glittering in Ren’s hair, and in the carpet. Ren has broken through that barrier, and now we just have to wait to see what the consequences of that are for him.

But... we can already see at least one consequence for Doc. Because now there is no more illusion of control and surrender for him to maintain. That division is no longer there, and we see Doc’s first real surrender in the whole story. Even in his nightmares, he was still in control: he knew it was a nightmare, and he fought against it until he “gave up”—in a way that still put him in control. He chooses to sit in the snow so it’ll kill dream-him faster.

He acts like he doesn’t care, but it’s still not that: he takes control in the only way he knows, aware that everything is only a dream and no matter what how it treats him, he’ll still wake up in the end. He looks at the nightmare and says basically “Do your worst, I dare you, but you won’t get what you want from me.”

But now—now he surrenders to Ren. He gives up. His core truth (“I’ll do anything to protect those I love,” which I talked about in this post) looks like it’s not going to be enough to save them. He can’t save Ren—from RK or from Ren himself—and that means he’s lost in the worst way possible. In this moment, it looks like Ren doesn’t even trust that Doc’s core truth—that he will do anything to save his friends—is true.

This is Doc’s lowest point: that Ren seems to think Doc’s loyalty and love have failed. And to Doc... that’s a fate worse than death.

So he gives up. He tells Ren to kill him, and he fully expects him to do so. Doc doesn’t want to die, but at this point he has completely let go of any control of his own fate. Even when facing down Ren with the Skizz blade, he held tightly to his control of the situation. He literally takes the sword in his own hand and removes it as a threat. But now—now the curtain is gone. The illusion of control is gone.

Ren is the one in control of the situation—for possibly the first time in the fic—and he chooses to remember that Doc is his friend, that he’s missed him. But Doc leaves it all to him. Even when Ren backs off, Doc stays in that surrendered state (“I can’t do anything right, unlike [Martyn.]”). He realizes that he's been in the passenger seat the whole time, and he’s now where Ren was before: no longer even trying to take back the driver’s seat.

The curtain is gone. Now we just have to wait and see who ends up on which side of it at the end.

#long post #dog at the door #datd #i got about halfway through this yesterday and then was told that the bead curtain was important to today's chapter #and I thought: okay. I'll wait and it'll probably blow my entire theory out of the water. #and then NOPE turns out I'm pretty sure this is where it was going all along and I'm just a nerd who happened to notice

[marvinswriting]

old vers

ménage, chapter six

previous chapter, masterpost clare pov

“Clare and Otis!”

I sit up and catch my brother's confused gaze before he responds. “Yeah Teddie?!”

“Come here! I’m not yelling across the house.”

I huff, forcing myself off my bed before helping Otis up. “What does he want?”

Otis shrugs.

It was the middle of the day, and for us, the time to sleep. Otis and I are still half asleep as we stumble into the main area.

Teddie looks exasperated and a sniffling Kye is hugging his legs. 

“What-?” Otis trails off as Kye looks at us, her big brown eyes filled with tears.

“She had a bad dream and Audwin isn’t here.” Teddie explains. “I don’t know why he left without telling us, where he is, how long he’s been gone, or when he’s coming back but you need to go find him. For Kye’s sake.”

I rub my eyes as my brain processes the information that’s just been thrown at me. “Audwin is missing?”

“I just said that.” Teddie nods, pointing to the exit. “Go find him.”

“Why us? I’m tired.” Otis whins. 

I elbow him and follow Teddies hand, leaving without looking back to see if Otis is following. 

Kye had a lot of nightmares when she was little. A lot were recurring about before Audwin took her in, but she seemed to have grown out of them as she got older. Yet sometimes, like today, a bad dream still got to her. It was never a huge deal, nothing Audwin couldn't fix with a hug and a reassuring smile. But Audwin wasn't here right now. He left without telling us and in the middle of the day.

“Where do you think he is?” Otis jogs up beside me, borrowing a bag in hand. Probably some tools as a precaution. Even though the only thing we are doing in checking the walls. Hopefully.

“I have no clue.” I shake my head. “I hope he’s okay. He’s never left before without telling us first.”

“That we know of. The dude has to deal with four idiots who he isn't biologically required to raise. I’d dip and grab a breather ever once and a while too.” Otis shrugs.

“I take it you aren’t very worried?”

“Not at all. Should we split up? I’ll go left, you go ri-”

“No.” 

Otis glances at me, eyebrow raised. “It will be quicker that way.”

“I know, I just- don’t wanna.” 

He studies me for a second before sighing. “This is about the other night- isn’t it.”

I shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just a little shaken up.”

“Wanna talk about it? Teddie says opening up is therapeutic.” Otis says, mimicking Teddie’s voice.

I laugh, but shake my head. “Not really.”

“Well, you’re a borrower, Clare. You’re gonna have to go on your own eventually. At least tell me who it was.”

Otis had a point. In order to have an efficient borrowing trip, we needed to split up at times. And if I didn’t get over my slip up before next time, we’d have issues. 

“It was the little girl, blondie.”

“Oh!  I know the one. Well, at least she was little. If she tells everyone it will be chalked up to an active imagination. And by the time she's older, she’ll forget it ever happened.” He nudged my shoulder. “You’re all good, Clare.”

I smile. “Yknow, when you put your ‘I’m heartless, fuck off’ facade aside, you’re pretty good at comforting people.”

“It’s a hidden talent.” Otis grinned. “I actually have a lot of them. I’d give you a list but that would take a lot of time and I frankly don’t think you’re des-”

I freeze. “Shut up.”

“Hey! Y’know, just because of that I’ll give you the extended list. I’m an amazing actor, I’m a goo-”

I cover Otis’ mouth with my hand, dropping my voice to a whisper. “No you idiot. I hear Audwin.”

Otis pushed my hand away from him and mouths a silent ‘o’.

As we stood silently, there was no mistake to what I heard. Audwin was somewhere near us talking. 

The only problem?

His voice was coming from out of the walls.

And somebody was talking back. 

“What the hell?”

Now it was Otis turn to shush me. “Shut the fuck up, Clare. What are they saying?”

“Otis we are not eavesdropping on-”

My brother slapped his hand on my mouth, guiding me by the shoulder to the exit into the room Audwin was in. 

If I knew the inside of the walls like I thought I did, we should be right by an office space where Rebeckah typically works. And as Otis and I peered passed the unscrewed outlet, we were right. 

Audwin was just in our line of sight, sitting at the edge of a desk, talking to the eldest human here, Rebeckah.

“What the fuck.” Otis whispered. 

Audwin didn’t seem to be in danger, in fact, the way both adults sat relaxed made it seem like this was almost a normal occurrence. 

Audwin was casually talking about how Kye went on her first borrowing trip, with Rebekah nodding along like she knew about Kye already.

I looked at Otis, almost for confirmation that I was seeing this right. Maybe I was dreaming. I mean- I was woken up to look for Audwin, maybe I never actually woke up.

But Otis’ tight grip on my wrist suggested otherwise.

“Ow.” I whisper, putting my arm away.

“Sorry,” Otis mumbles. “I just- what the fuck?”

For a statement lacking such explanation, I knew exactly what he meant. 

Our whole life we had been taught to avoid humans. It was practically embedded in our DNA. All our rules and skills were made to stay away from them. Hell, our daily tasks are even timed to be completed as humans sleep. To see the man who taught us everything blatantly break every rule he forced us to remember felt-

Wrong.

“He doesn't look scared or trapped, right?” I ask

“No, I don't think?”

“That's what I thought.”

We stood there for a while, just listening to the adults talk. Nothing about their conversation sounded like captive vs captor. 

My heart was pounding and I’m sure Otis’ was too. Not only did I hate eavesdropping, this truly felt like something we shouldn't be seeing.

We watched as Audwin stood up and waved and it didn’t take long to realize what was happening. 

They were saying goodbye.

As Audwin turned towards the outlet, I ducked away, yanking Otis with me.

I pushed him into the shadow casted by the outfit right in the walls. If Audwin looked in a direction other than home, we’d be caught and explaining spying wasn't gonna be easy. But as Otis and I stood pushed up against the wood, Audwin walked past humming a tune, stolling home.

What the hell?

He just walked away from a human without so much as a scratch and if anything- it seems to have put him in a good mood?

Once Audwin turned the corner and was out of ear shot, Otis pushed me off of him. “What the fuck. Am I going crazy? Are we still dreaming?”

“The thought has crossed my mind.”

Otis looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “Still have ten fingers. Okay. We’re awake. They what the fuck is going on.”

“Audwin is hiding something.

“No shit, Clare. He’s talking to the orphan mom lady like they’re childhood friends. Of course he’s hiding something.”

“Are we gonna confront him?”

“Hell no. We’re gonna walk back, conveniently walk in after Audwin, claim we went in the opposite direction, and smile naively and whatever excuse he has.”

“I hope your claim to fame of being a good actor holds true, because I can’t lie for the life of me.” I mumble as Otis starts walking away. 

“They don't talk. Just smile and nod to whatever I say and tell Audwin you’re glad he’s okay.”

I jog to catch up to my brother and we walk in silence the way home. What we just saw was a lot to process and quite frankly trew everything we thought we knew out the window.

By the time we got back home, Kye was nowhere to be seen- presumably already asleep again, and Teddie and Audwin sat waiting for us.

“There you are!” Teddie stood up, taking Otis' borrowing bag from him. “So much for finding Audwin, huh?”

“Oops.” Otis grinned. “Where were you old man? We looked by the kitchen area, living room, and everything!”

Audwin wmiled. “Sometimes you just gotta take a breather and do a lap. I was in the other direction.”

Otis nudged me. “You see, that's the exact thing I told Clare earlier! See, nothing to worry about.”

“Yep,” Audwin nodded. “I’m all safe.”

“That’s a relief.” I smile. “I’m gonna go back to bed, I’m tired.”

While I may be a bad liar, that wasn't one. Despite not walking for more than ten minutes both ways, the whole experience left me exhausted. 

Otis followed me silently. We both needed to sleep off whatever the hell we witnessed, and process whatever Audwin is hiding.

not me updating once a month

#marvinswriting: ménage #borrowers #g/t #g/t writing #orignial work #g/t related #giant/tiny

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (2)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon | Prompt in Chapter 1 link

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I kinda enjoyed my weekend a bit too much that I must have overstayed by break 😅 it’s always a busy work week for me so I allowed myself to relax. I’ll try to pick up the pace from here on out though! ☺ And I can see this fic has gotten a few of y’all’s attention >;3

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, physical & psychological torture

Also in AO3

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of ?

THE DAY OF THE COUNTERATTACK

The operation proceeded as planned.

All of you have been preparing for this since the fall of dusk that night.

You had help in hitching a ride from the temple ruins in the jungle to Ulfin. Some rebels drove landspeeders, but only until you got to the city walls that shielded it from the wilderness. Cal caught you by the arm before you regrouped with the detonations team.

“Hey, see you later?”

You smirked, “Yeah, like always.”

Despite your recurring nightmares and anxiety, Cal aided in keeping those inhibitions at bay and encouraged you enough that everything will go as planned. It was worth pondering why his worries were transferred to you ever since you had those nightmares—but you swore to yourself that it wouldn’t happen, you will not allow it.

You and your group were equipped with live trackers—your signatures will appear as blips to the assault division’s, including Cal’s, radars. The redhead constantly stared at your signature marked with your name’s initial, it moved at a natural pace on the radar but something troubled him as they crept through the fortress like scrap rats.

“They’re close to the reactor chamber,” Cal reported to his team.

“Good, they should be going down there and sticking those claymores in a matter of minutes,”

“Come on, [Y/N]…” Cal mumbled through the grit of his teeth.

The destination was the base—the location of the main reactor chamber—and you were carrying your share of the explosives. The leader made it transparently clear of who goes where and which goes to whom. You had to navigate your way through a metal maze—and while doing so, you’re memorizing your path in which will also be your way out—until you found the enormous pillar brimming with electricity and energy.

Your eyes were filled with the light of the energy at the very base of the reactor. You could only imagine just how catastrophic the explosion will be and how far the blast radius can reach. You could’ve sworn you felt your heart drop to your stomach upon the sight of the reactor pillar.

“Don’t be intimidated, little spark! Once you paste those bad boys up, this reactor will pale in comparison to their punch!”

“It’s not that…” you mutter, supposedly to the boisterous female partisan, but you kept it to yourself as she would not comprehend what you’re sensing.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” You thought to yourself, and it’s got something to do with the plan.

The rest of the fighters approached their designated pillars, producing the explosives from their packs and then adhering them to the metal surface. Meanwhile, the adult rebel noticed you hesitating.

“Well, come on, kid, we don’t have all day!” the older lady coaxed.

Eventually, you took your own claymore and attached it on the pillar’s base. You set off the timer for 30 minutes, enough for everyone to get out of the chamber safely and regroup with the ones in the surface. In the middle of your configuration, the weird feeling you detected became stronger—only you had their senses spiked. Your abrupt turn caught the woman’s attention, she shot you a quizzical look, your eyes surveyed the entire reactor chamber… until you spotted a shadow perched on the beam above her head.

“Kid, are you okay?”

“LOOK OUT!!” you screeched but it was too late.

The shadow had made its presence known—the watcher descended from the high beam with ease and drove his crimson saber straight into your companion’s spine, killing her instantly.

“NO!!!”

All of your other companions were on high alert as soon as they heard your first cry. They set their blasters to kill, all barrels pointing at the enemy fully clad in jet black armor. Without a doubt, this was an Inquisitor—everything about him was a dead giveaway from the helmet down to the saber. You brandished your own while the rebels surrounded the Inquisitor, inept to comprehend the sheer power of one individual.

“Well, hello,” the Inquisitor cooed in a singsong manner, tilting his head as he spoke. It appeared that he had his eye on you, for you were the only one standing out amongst these rebels.

“You’ll pay for what you did!” you growled.

“Oh, this?” he nudged the body with his boot. “Sorry, but we all have our accidents once in a while, eh?”

You found his remark revolting. Not once, not even in a single inch, did you remove your eyes from him. From what you can tell, you sensed that he is elusive—he’s made a good example of that before he made your fellow rebel a landing cushion for himself and the other end of his lightsaber.

“You’re quite young for a Jedi, a youngling during the Purge no doubt,”

“What do you know about me?”

A throaty chuckle was your reply; he positioned himself in a stance, as well as his saber, in the offensive.

“Perhaps, you could show me,” invited the Inquisitor.

It was he who made the first move. He cut through the wind like a dart, swift and sure, until you broke his lunge with a block. You prepared yourself for impact, but you didn’t expect it to be this heavy! You’ve found yourself caught in a frenzied dance of blades, waving and swinging your saber at the Inquisitor who’s keenly refusing you a chance of a jab at all.

This new enemy in the lines, the shadowy Second Brother, was a blade in the dark.

You’ve got to hand it to him—he is very stealthy and acrobatic, he almost makes it impossible to catch up to him. Not even the sharpshooter of your team can land a mark, let alone graze his armor, as the Second Brother leaps from one parapet to a platform and so on.

Spinning in place as you followed his movements was an old tactic to tire you down, that much you’re certain, and he was impressed that you read through his plan. He didn’t linger from his high ground too long; for someone of a heavy stock, he appeared and moved as light as a feather while he’s perched on the safety banister of the platform. Holding out his dual-edged saber in one hand, he tucked his knees and sprang off from his perch, darting through the wind again towards you.

You prepared yourself again for another heavy landing. Little by little, you determine his attack pattern: he prefers confusing his enemies visually by leaping from one surface to another—like a Kowakian monkey-lizard—and when he’s in an optimum position, he’ll buckle for a heavy, dart-like attack as he bolts through the air, propelled by the take-off caused by the balls of his feet.

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” his voice rung muffled through his helmet as he strains his weight against yours, making you some sort of anchor.

Compared to him, you’re half his size and strength, but you didn’t let that intimidate you. You destroyed his stance by kicking him in the knee, straightening his leg from its tucked position, and follow it up with another foot to the stomach. The pain was tolerable, nonetheless, he wordlessly commended your courage and boldness.

“A thorny one, too!” he cackled.

You turned to the rebels.

This fight was obviously a trap for you and the rebels to lose time. Despite the compromise, you urged everyone that the plan must pull through.

“Switch on the timers now!” you ordered for everyone as you held fast against the Inquisitor.

As soon as you gave the order, one of the rebels sprinted towards his reactor, stretched out a hand as he ran so his fingers could at least touch the button…

Until the Inquisitor extended his arm, aimed at the scampering rebel, and essentially seized the man’s capability to move—leaving his fingertip just a mere inch away from the button to start the countdown.

“Ah-ah-ah!” the Inquisitor chirped in a mocking, singsong tune. “You wouldn’t wanna ruin the fun, now would you?”

Using the Force, you break off his connection with the man and drew his attention to you. Apparently so, ruining his own sick definition of fun is something one must not do—not even a Jedi.

You fixated your eyes on him, you watch him slowly crane his head from the rebel to you—obviously vexed by your interruption—and so he lowered his arm, subsequently releasing the rebel. His throaty growl prevailed the low-pitched machine hum of the reactors.

Bemused at you, he snarls, “Thorny one, indeed.”

“Careful not to prick yourself then!”

The Second Brother liked your snark. The two of you resumed the whirlwind of blades as the rebels took advantage of the preoccupied Inquisitor and made a run for the explosives already glued to the pillars.

“[Y/N], COME ON!” another rebel vigorously swung his arm in the air, repeating a beckoning gesture at you as he let the rest of the partisans scale the ladders and make their escape.

“JUST GO, I’LL FOLLOW!!” you cry while struggling in the block against the Second Brother.

“Are you sure about that!?” he shifts more of his weight against you, in an attempt to make you fumble and finally give him a window to attack.

The rebels make their way out of the reactor chamber with less than thirty minutes ticking behind them. Engaging the Second Brother has cost you ten minutes already. A shortcut was made, courtesy of the bombardment caused by the skirmish on the ground. They pass through the obliterated hallway with a hole in the wall, a few Stormtroopers’ bodies strewn across the floor, and a row of busted turrets.

Back on the ground, Cal is the singular crutch that gave the rebels the advantage they so desperately want and need. This is a large playing field, and so he had the equal amount of room to practice, experiment, enhance, or improve. Cal was confident as he deals more hits in the vanguard along with the rest of the rebels in the front; eventually, he had to fall back from the bulk of the action as he felt something wrong.

“Bee-boop?”

“I’m not hurt, BD… I sensed something… quite bad,” Cal panted, clutching his chest as he struggled to calm his breathing.

He shook it off and fished out his compact radar from his pocket. His eyes followed a cluster of red blips moving in the same direction—which is south in his perspective—though, he spotted your blip which remained in the reactor chamber. He stared at the red dot, your red dot, pondering why it has remained in the same location or only moving in what ought to be just paces in real life. He clenched his teeth hard enough for this molars to grind against each other. He puts away the radar and returns to battle.

Where are you, [Y/N]? What are you still doing there?! He thought to himself as he cuts down the trio of Stormtroopers aiming at him.

Meanwhile, you’re still busy with the Second Brother; there seems to be no end to his energy—still acrobatic and swift as the first time he made himself known. Another clash and long intertwine of your blades, he finally saw through you—in your eyes, lit by the contradicting colors of your weapons—and discovered the determination slowly transmogrifying into desperation.

“Ahh,” he purred, and then chuckled. “Now I see what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“You know nothing, you treacherous oaf! Nor will you ever!”

“There it is!” he voluntarily withdrew from the clash of blades, evading your overhead strike, and gestures with his arms thrown open to the sides as if he had an epiphany.

He pointed the end of his saber to you.

“There’s that darkness, you’ve buried it so deep within you… but now it has emerged,” he tauned.

“Keep quiet!”

Out of frustration, you charged and lunged at him. A reckless move in the heat of the moment.

The Inquisitor had no problem whatsoever in deflecting you; he’s confident that he has attained the upper hand of this duel—now that he’s spotted a weakness in you that you’ve unintentionally let out.

This collision of blades was the most intense than the ones that came before it. You could almost see his sinister grin through the plate of his mask as your sabers—a dramatic contrast of color and of virtue—illuminate your faces.

“Let me…” he hissed and slowly brought his one hand from his hilt to your forehead. “Shine a light in that darkness.”

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #force-sensitive! reader #inquisitor! reader #inquisitor #jedi! reader #fake death #jedi turned inquisitor #seduction to the dark side #turn to the dark side #the dark side of the force #aftermath of torture #torture #psychological torture #redemption arc! reader #possible redemption #premonitions #redemption #redemption arc #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #swjfo #swjfo fic #jfo #jedi fallen order #jfo fic #fic

[roleplay-lanay]

The Meaning of Family / Normal is Overrated

Chapter 2: Brighter Days

Chapter 1 >> Chapter 3

This story is my own. It is posted on Ao3, Deviantart, and Wattpad. However, I do not own any characters from the X-men universe, they are the sole property of Marvel. Please leave comments and constructive criticism. All my love x

“[F/n]... How could you do this to us?” she cried into her hands. She was beautiful in her white night gown. Her perfectly messy brown hair fell over her shoulder resting on her knees, just in front of her elbows. The shadow of a man stood tall and overbearing above her. His back to a large window with moonlight pouring into the room. His arms crossed and a look of disdain on his shadowy face.

“After everything we have done for you, your whole life. This is how you repay us?”

A feeling of helplessness fell over me. They wouldn’t listen to me, no matter how many times I tried to tell them...

“LIAR! You evil wench! How could you possibly think we would believe that?”

It was silent. I was on the ground with a throbbing pain on my cheek and uncontrollable tears did nothing to soothe the pain.

“Oh honey. You can still make this right.”

I looked up to see the beautiful woman’s shadowy face turned up to me with a sinister smile. I shake my head. What she wanted was inconceivable. Her smile turned quickly into a scowl and she reared her hand back

“You bloody whore!” she screamed, and I squeezed my eyes shut waiting for the impact. When it never came I opened them. I found that I wasn’t in the same moonlit room but in a room illuminated by the sunrise through the curtains. My son, Charles, was kneeling by my side holding my hand. When he saw my eyes open, he shifted so that he was leaning over my face. He wiped, just below my eyes, the tears.

“It’s okay mommy. I’m here”, he whispered. His sweet voice brought a smile to my face,

“I’m sorry my dear Charlie.” I propped myself up on my elbow and wrapped my other arm around the child bringing him to me and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He wraps his arms around my neck and I sigh. It was a recurring nightmare. It tormented me to no end and every time I have it is just as worse as the last. Charlie had grown accustomed to wiping my tears just as I wake up. The poor child, I couldn’t imagine how he felt every morning. I sit up and set Charlie on my lap. The smell of breakfast foods wafted into the room by way of the cracked door.

Last night, Charlie and I were invited to spend the night in the home of Charles Xavier and Raven, whom he claims to be his sister despite her American accent. They were very kind to us from the moment we met them. We entered the house and Xavier took our coats from us to hang up; it was the last time we saw him as he had some business to attend to in his office. Raven then offered us some sandwiches and I paired mine with water. I was still parched as my untouched glass of water from the pub was probably being poured out by then.

Charlie and Raven hit it off nicely. He would usually spend his time close to me, holding onto me, but he was comfortable with her, quick to smile and hold her hand, he was even a little talkative. Eventually she showed us to the room that we are in currently and bid us good night. A warm welcome that, hopefully, I could extend until I can figure things out for little Charlie and I.

“Darling, why don’t we get washed and head downstairs?” I smooth his hair and he nods.

After getting cleaned and changed, we made our way downstairs. Following the chatter led us to the kitchen. Raven stood next to the stove and Charles leaned on the island just across from the stove. Both wore pale peach colored aprons, both a little frilly, both quite fitting.

“Ah, there you two are. I thought I heard a bit of stirring upstairs.” Charles smiled at us warmly and waved us in. Charlie made his way over to Raven who had swiftly picked him up with a good morning. I walked in nodding a good morning to the both of them and wrapping my arms around my torso, “It smells really nice.” I had stopped along the other side of the island. Charles moved to take Ravens place as she moves to set Charlie down on the island. “I hope the food will be alright for you both.” She says smiling at me over Charlie’s head. “I’m sure it’s all wonderful.”

“Yes and lucky for you,” Xavier busies himself with putting the food on the serving plates, “it’s all finished now.” He looks over his shoulder at me, “[F/n], will you take those plates there and set the table.” He nods to the four stacked plates just in front of me. I pick them up and walk towards the table, a rather large one. It seems lonely, just the two of them at a table that can fit ten plus. Raven and Charlie come up behind me with napkins and utensils. We set four spots just across from each other and Charles came over placing plates of food in the center of the set up. I walk over to the other side of the table to sit down. I was slightly surprised when Charlie chose to sit beside me instead of by his new best friend though I knew I shouldn’t be.

“Alright then, dig in.” Charles announces as he wipes his hands on a plain hand towel and sits down. I thank them and help Charlie with his food before helping myself.

“Where are you both from?” Charles, as he works to transfer some food to his plate.

“You’re going to interrogate them, this early in the morning?” Raven looks over to Charles with disbelief in her tone.

“It is not an interrogation.” He states then turns to me and defends, “This is not an interrogation, just friendly conversation.”

I laugh and Charlie moves to kneel on his chair, “We live by the water. It’s really pretty there when the sun sets.”

“Is that right? And do you like to swim in the water?”

He nods and sticks a piece of fruit with his fork, “but my favorite thing to do is to lay with mommy on the grass and watch the water.” I smile at him as he puts the fruit in his mouth.

“You know, we have a small lake around back,” Raven speaks up, “I could show it to you guys later.”

“That sounds lovely, Raven.”

“Quite a lovely idea indeed. I would love to join you, but I have to head over to the college right after breakfast.” He places a forkful in his mouth. I had really hoped to have some time to speak with him before we burdened them another night. He looks at me knowingly, “But I’ll be back sometime after lunch and before dinner. We can have our chat then.”

The side of my lip pulls up into a half smile.

“Hey Charlie,” Raven crosses her legs and leans into the table with renewed interest, “why don’t you show us that trick of yours now?”

Charlie turned to look at me timidly but in his eyes was an excitement. No one had asked to see his gift before and he trusted them. I place my hand on his head cupping it and look over towards Charles. He was the one who objected to it yesterday, so I wanted to make sure it was alright. He noticed all of our eyes on him and he leaned back giving a little shrug and gestured for Charlie to go ahead.

I remove my hand and lean back to watch him. He comes off of his knees to stand on the chair with his fork in his hand. It still had a piece of fruit attached to it. Raven watched curiously. Xavier had crossed his legs and his arms but it was easy to see the hidden excitement in his eyes.

Charlie had eaten the fruit off of the fork and immediately his body started to change. His soft skin had become a hard metal, as did his eyes and his hair. Because of the dull complexion of the fork, the light shining through the curtains just behind us wasn’t made to blind us, but, instead, it illuminated the surface of what was once his skin with a myriad of rainbow colors depending on the curvature of his body in certain places.

“Oh my... Charlie that’s so cool!”, Raven exclaimed as she quickly made her way around the table, passing behind Charles and then me to get to Charlie. He gave the biggest smile as raven reached up to gently touch him.

Charles uncrossed his legs and gave an amazed smirk, “Brilliant. A boy this young...”, he trailed off seemingly lost in thought.

I look up at my metal boy just as Raven asked if he could do anything else. He put the fork down and immediately reverted back to look like a normal human boy and leans down to touch the chair. He then changed to take on the wood material of the chair. He giggled and talked animatedly with the amazed Raven. Xavier leans over to address me, “So, he takes on the material of whatever he is touching?”

My eyes turn to him with a feeling of pride. I nod, “Yes, but only as long as he is touching the object.” We both look over at the pair trying new materials like the porcelain plate.

“How much have you tested his ability?”

“Not much. I didn’t want to risk him getting found out.”

He looked at me curiously, his cheek was resting on his hand and his index and middle finger were pressed to his temple for a second before he curled his fingers back into his palm, “It was never once because you were ashamed or embarrassed.” It was a statement more than a question. I shook my head. Since the moment I realized that he was gifted, the want to shun my child had never once crossed my mind. Just the fear of how others might treat him or that he could, one day, be taken away from me by people who only want to do him harm for the sake of research.

Suddenly, Charlie catches my attention by climbing into my lap, “Raven is going to show us her trick too.” I laugh and wrap my arms around him, turning my attention to the lady. She took Charlie’s seat facing us. Charles sat back again watching us with amusement.

Raven looked directly at me, “Name someone you like.” She paused before specifying, “Someone famous.”

I took a second to think, then Charlie touched my arm. I looked down at him, “You like Elvis, right?” His eyes were shining. He’s the one who adores Elvis. Some of the few things we owned were an Elvis record, among five other records, and a record player. It’s his favorite by far. He’ll hold the record album and look at Elvis while his suave voice played in the background. Elvis wasn’t my favorite, but how could I disappoint that sweet face.

I kissed his head, “Sure, we’ll go with Elvis.”

She gave a smile and sat with her legs crossed, hands folded on top of the part of the peach apron resting on her lap. We watched her attentively as she transformed into Elvis. While Charlie’s transition was a more smooth, gradual change, hers was more abrupt. Some blue matter overcame her and then disappeared revealing Elvis in the flesh, technically. His legs were crossed and his hands folded on his lap, just like Raven’s previous form.

I had no clue what to expect but it surely wasn’t that she would change into him. I was speechless but Charlie gasped in surprise and jumped up to stand on the chair, between my legs. I placed my hands on his legs to steady him but I watched them.

“You’re Elvis!” he exclaimed excitedly.

The chuckle that came from her throat was a light manly one.

“Can you sing something?” came out of my mouth before I could even process what I was asking. I was too amazed, however, to feel embarrassed.

She gave that famous Elvis smirk, with glimmering blue eyes I had no clue he had, and stood up getting into his stance. Without a pause, as if with his confidence, she began rocking like Elvis and singing the first verse of Hard Headed Woman:

Well a hard headed woman, a soft hearted man been the cause of trouble ever since the world began. Oh yeah, ever since the world began a hard headed woman been a thorn in the side of man.

Once she was finished, Charlie, Mr. Xavier and I applauded her and cheered. It was completely amazing what she was able to do. Before long, Charlie had hopped to the ground and started practicing his Elvis moves with her. It was honestly the cutest sight you could ever see. Charles and I sat back and watched but not two minutes later the large grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime. It was 9 o’clock. It seemed to startle Charles out of some type of daze.

“Oh hell... I’m going to be late.” Charles had paused a moment and looked at young Charlie who was looking up at him curiously, “Pardon my language.”

He stood quickly and began cleaning his place, taking his things to the sink. Raven laughed and changed back to her original self. “He’s not used to all of this.”

Raven, again, took Charlie’s seat and Charlie settled on her lap. Charles, in a rush, heads out of the dinning room and rounds the corner, but quickly pokes his head back in.

“I apologize for having to leave so abruptly. I’ll be around later.” He nods to us then looks to Raven, “Treat them well.” He rounded again and after a few minutes the front door was opened then shut.

I look at Raven and she smiles at me. “How about we go see the lake now?”

Charlie jumps up excitedly and I nod and look down at the child, “Charlie, let’s help clean first.”

He agrees and we all grab things off the table. Charlie was in charge of throwing things in the trash and Raven and I worked at the sink, though she tried to tell me I didn’t have to help. It was a lot more fun than cleaning should have been and it looked like Raven thought the same. We all tried the Elvis twist and singing songs that we knew. The dishes were cleaned and the table was wiped down in no time it seemed.

Finally, she takes us on an official tour of the grounds and we end the tour at the lake, slightly bigger than I imagined, but not so much. It was a gorgeous day out. Very few clouds were to be seen in the sky and the soft spring breeze was a welcome companion to the warm heat of the sun. Charlie and Raven played a bit but somehow we all ended up laying in the grass, looking up at the sky. Charlie insisted on lying down between us and holding both of our hands. There was the sounds of our voices, moving water, small animals, and the grass in the wind. It was so serene and we hadn’t even been here a whole day. I silently prayed that whatever it was that Charlie and I stumbled upon, this peace, that we could keep it for a while longer. All I needed to do now was finally have that conversation with Charles Xavier. Just a few more hours.

#xmen #xmen x reader #professor x #charles xavier #charles x reader #charles xavier x reader #raven #Female reader #fanfic #mystique #mother reader #bad parents #abuse warning #trigger warning

[hotforharrison]

Shelter ch 9

Chapter 8 <-- Series Masterlist --> Chapter 10

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader, Tom Holland/Reader, eventually Harrison Osterfield/Reader/Tom Holland

Summary: You’re stuck thousands of miles away from home and everything you’ve ever known as what had come to be known as ‘the infection’ spreads. Things look bleak until you find your two saviors.

Word Count: 1,921

Warnings: Language and smut.

A/N: Next up is A Little Something, followed by To Sleep, Perchance To Dream, followed by Enraptured Writer, and finishing up with Meet & Greet. I also have an idea for a new series that came from a dream I had, but it’s a slow burn, and I’m not even sure I can write that. We’ll see what happens!

Your recurring nightmare came back again. This time, the slamming door didn’t stop Harry when you were in his apartment. He grabbed you while you tried to pull away, teeth piercing your arm. You ran outside, but it was too late. The damage was done. Your fate was sealed.

The terror in the dream was well beyond vivid and intense.

Other than your pounding heart and near hyperventilation, the first thing you noticed when you woke up was that your bedmate didn’t have the comforting scent of Harrison that you’d come to associate with warmth and safety after your nightmares. The new scent wasn’t bad, also masculine and clean, but it wasn’t Harrison. You automatically hated that and desperately wanted Harrison.

The second thing you noticed was that you were completely nude, with smooth bare skin pressed against your own. That was definitely new, too, even if it had been Harrison. If it were any other time, you would have been filled with want. However, these were not the best circumstances.

You opened your eyes, and glanced over blearily to see a head of messy chestnut curls buried in the pillow next to you. Tom.

The events that led up to being in bed with Tom came back to your mind, and you felt bad you were about to leave him alone after you’d just been together for the first time.

When you carefully moved to get out of bed to find Harrison, Tom reached out for you.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Just getting up. You can go back to sleep,” you told him, trying not to convey how panicked you felt and hopefully not failing.

“Alright,” he responded, rolling over.

You sighed with relief and quickly padded down the hallway toward Harrison’s room. He was lying on his bed, glasses on and book in his hands. He put it down when he saw you.

Without saying a word, you climbed up in the bed with him and buried your face in his chest, obviously sniffing him. His scent immediately calmed you a little, but it wasn’t enough.

“You’re shaking, love,” Harrison commented.

“I had the dream again. Tom was there, but I needed you,” you said, unshed tears finally dripping down your face, and the sobs you’d been holding back falling out.

“Whatever you need, pretty girl,” he promised you, stroking his fingers through your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead, as you cried harder than you had in a while.

“Is she…” you heard Tom trail off from the doorway.

“She had a nightmare. Come on,” Harrison said.

The bed dipped on your other side, and Tom wrapped himself around you, too, now clothed.

“You don’t have to be afraid to cry in front of me,” Tom told you. “I’m here, too.”

You nodded, not able to talk again yet.

“Shhhh, it’s alright,” Tom reassured you, taking your hand in his and holding it gently.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Harrison added.

Tom moved in front of your face and slowly kissed away your tears.

You caught his mouth with yours and kissed his salty lips, tongue swiping across them until the saltiness was gone.

He made a surprised noise.

“What are you doing?” Harrison asked.

You pulled back and answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“Do you want one of us?” Tom asked.

“I just want to forget for a little while,” you replied.

“I think Haz would be best for that,” Tom told you and moved to get up.

“Wait,” you told him.

He turned around, and you kissed him briefly, but deeply.

“I’ll miss you,” you said.

He smiled. “I’ll only be two rooms away, darling.”

You watched him walk through the door and heard him heading back toward his room before you turned back to Harrison.

He kissed you. “Tell me what you want.”

You sniffled. “A shower first. I mean Tom used a washcloth on me, but I’m still kind of...messy, from earlier,” you finished.

“If you wanted one together, the showers here are on the small side. The biggest one is attached to Tom’s room,” he said.

“Do you think he’d mind?” you asked.

“I doubt it.” He helped you to your feet, grabbed some clean clothes, and then went into his bathroom to grab his shower supplies. You followed him down the hallway, stopping at your room to get yours.

“What’s up?” Tom asked, glancing up from a book.

“Can we borrow your shower?” Harrison asked.

“Go ahead,” Tom responded.

You noticed him watching you as you headed into his bathroom.

“Have fun,” Tom added, making you blush slightly that he knew exactly what was going to happen a mere door away.

The shower stall was small, but would easily fit both you and Harrison with enough leftover space along the back wall for the bottles of assorted hair care items and body wash. You left your clothes on the vanity above the sink.

Harrison turned the water on to let it heat up while he got undressed.

You looked over his completely naked body for the second time, no less attractive to you after seeing Tom’s more muscular one. If nothing else, your boys were very easy on the eyes. Your gaze moved down to focus on his erection.

“Don’t feel obligated. It’ll go down if you aren’t interested,” he told you.

You weren’t sure if the feeling in your stomach was the start of arousal or anxiety after your nightmare. “I don’t know right now.”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” he reassured you.

You stepped forward to wrap your arms around him, burying your face against his skin while he stroked your back.

“Ready to get in the shower?” he eventually asked.

You nodded and got into the small cubicle with him.

He picked up your shampoo. “Let me?”

“Okay,” you agreed and turned around so he had full access to your hair.

His fingers massaged the shampoo into your scalp and through your hair soothingly.

When he was done, you turned around to rinse, and he did the same with your conditioner.

Your body wash was next, and he slowly cleaned your entire body. What was definitely not anxiety and completely arousal was pulsing through you, and you whined when he skipped touching you between your legs because that was where you wanted him the most.

“I want,” you started, swallowing, before you took his hand and moved it against your mons to show him instead.

“Alright, I can give you that, pretty girl,” he told you.

His fingers slid through your folds to find your clit. His thumb settled over it, rubbing in slow circles, while he pushed two fingers into you and started pumping them in and out. He curled them, finding your g-spot on every thrust.

You inhaled sharply, pleasure coursing through you, before asking, “can you kiss me, too?”

“Of course,” he responded.

His lips met yours, and you moaned loudly against his mouth.

He took the opportunity to move past your parted lips to brush his tongue against yours, thoroughly exploring your mouth.

You broke the kiss to breathlessly beg, “please, Harrison, please.”

“I’ve got you, love,” he told you, quickening the pace with his thumb and fingers.

You tipped your head back against the shower wall, crying out his name as you reached your orgasm, entire weight supported by the wall and Harrison.

He leaned forward and started kissing and sucking on your neck while you were climaxing.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you told him when you got too sensitive to continue.

His hand pulled away while his lips trailed up your jaw to meet yours again, kissing you until you were lightheaded.

You broke the kiss, panting for long moments. “There’s something I want to do.”

“What is that, love?” he asked.

You pushed him back enough that you could drop to your knees and mouthed wetly along the v of his iliac furrow.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” he started.

“No, I want to,” you interrupted confidently.

He turned the water off, explaining, “I’d rather not freeze while I clean up after we’re done.”

You nodded and kissed your way up his cock from base to tip, teasing him with kitten licks.

When you took the head in your mouth and started taking him deeper in your mouth, he groaned and ran his fingers through your wet hair. “Be careful,” he warned you.

Your gag reflex went off when you took him too far into your mouth, and you coughed. “Sorry.”

He stroked your cheek gently. “You don’t have to take me deep for it to feel good.”

“Okay.” You wrapped your hand around the base and focused licking and sucking on the head, not taking him nearly as far as you had. It was easy to find a rhythm with your hand and mouth, getting lost in pleasuring him.

“God, I’m going to...” he trailed off, groaning and pulling out of your mouth. He spilled on his hand and you in several warm spurts.

You watched his face, gorgeous even while he was in the middle of an orgasm.

When his high and the aftershocks had passed, he glanced down at you. “I should’ve probably asked first before I came all over you.”

“You could have done it in my mouth,” you told him. “I’m curious what that’s like.”

He collected some of his cum on his thumb and pressed it against your lips.

You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue around and sucked on his thumb, crinkling your nose at the salty and bitter taste.

“It’s not the best,” he said.

“It’s really not,” you agreed. “I still would’ve done it for you, though.”

“You’re so sweet, pretty girl.” He smiled down at you, gaze full of affection.

With his help, you returned to your feet and stood in front of him again.

He turned the shower back on, water still warm, and gently cleaned your face.

You trembled when he finished washing you between your thighs, still overly sensitive.

“Let me just,” he said and switched your positions.

You watched him shower quickly, from head to toe, taking in the comforting scent of his body wash and shampoo. It was something you didn’t think you could ever get enough of.

“Didn’t run out of hot water!” he exclaimed triumphantly as he turned the shower off.

You laughed as you grabbed the towels from the rack next to the shower, handing one to him, and started drying yourself.

In the mirror, you could see a couple of hickeys had blossomed on your neck where Harrison had been kissing you earlier. If you were being honest, it was a turn on being claimed by one of your boys. You wondered how Tom would react to seeing them.

When you were done examining your neck, you took care of your wet hair and put on your tank top and shorts.

“Ready?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah.” You opened the door to see Tom still on his bed.

“Feeling better, darling?” Tom asked, glancing up.

“Much,” you replied with a smile.

Tom’s eyes narrowed, and you realized he was staring at your neck. He stood up and approached you, running his thumb over the darkened skin. “Marking up our girl, Harrison?”

Harrison shrugged. “It was a heat of the moment thing.”

“I can and will do better,” Tom promised, his gaze dark with lust.

That was definitely the kind of reaction you’d hoped for. You shivered with anticipation.

Tag list: @definitely-not-black-cat @tom-hollands-blog @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @relise-thefury @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh @eeyore101247

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #Tom Holland Fan Fiction #tom holland scenarios #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #harrison osterfield x tom holland x reader #tom holland x harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland reader insert #tom holland reader #tom holland you #harrison osterfield reader #harrison osterfield reader insert #harrison osterfield you #haz osterfield

[bat-losers-inc]

Collisions in the Dark (Ch 24) : Endgame

Pairings: Jason Todd/Tim Drake and Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Summary: Jason and Tim have to relearn how to live with and trust each other without the threat of Ra’s al Ghul hanging over them. Their progress happens in slow baby steps, but it’s a start. [Final Chapter]

Chapter Notes: Endgame: The third and last phase of the game, when there are few pieces left on the board.

      _____________________________________________________________

“When does a war end? When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?” — Ocean Vuong

     _____________________________________________________________

Things stayed murky between them after that night. Their anger had subdued, and though they no longer fought with each other they also didn’t work to strengthen their relationship. Instead they existed in some on-again-off-again cycle, coming together in bed late at night when the urge to fuck or hold each other was the strongest, and afterwards turning their thoughts back inwards.

Their family tried to be supportive— self help could be a long and hard battle, after all—  but Tim could tell that they worried that their relationship was unhealthy. Under any normal circumstances, Tim would have agreed with them.

On one such a night Tim found his way into Jason’s bedroom blocked by the other boy’s tall form.

“Another nightmare?”

“C’mon, you know it is.”

Tim tried to shove past him, but Jason merely leaned his hip against the doorframe and cut off his path. Tim shoved his bangs out of his eyes. He needed to get a haircut, but he hadn’t had time with so many other issues on his mind.

“What are you doing?”

Jason jerked his head back down the hall. “Go to Bruce.”

Tim laughed, “What? Are you ratting on me again?”

Jason didn’t meet his eyes, not out of fear but perhaps… boredom? Like this was all a game that he had outgrown. Despite all of the shit that they endured together, Tim still couldn’t get a read on his thoughts.

“This isn’t meant to be a punishment, Tim. I thought you said you were going to try to work on your relationship with him.”

“When did I say that?”

Jason picked at the worn out elbow of his thermal shirt, pulling off the small pills of thread he found there. “Oh I don’t know. A few days ago. Somewhere in between fucking me and falling asleep. You were uncharacteristically talkative that night.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Tim growled, struggling to keep his voice down,  “You have no idea what I’m going through right now—”

“Then tell me.” Jason’s voice was little more than a fierce whisper. “How am I supposed to feel for you if you don’t tell me what’s going on with you? I mean shit Tim! I constantly feel like I can’t trust you anymore and I don’t know how to fix it. Trust comes from honesty— from talking about our feelings. With both of us talking about our feelings.”

“Really Jason? Cause I don’t see you emptying your heart out to me every chance you get.”

It was a low blow. Tim regretted saying it instantly but the words had already been said and now Tim knew he was going to get Jason’s biting honestly.

“Fine. You want to know how I’m feeling? Every night that you come here looking for a quick fuck makes me feel like I’m back in my apartment fucking a stranger.”

Jason’s words cut into Tim like a razor. A stranger, he thought. Had he really pushed Jason so far away from him for him to call Tim that?

Jason looked him up and down. “Whoever this you is that grips my hair too tight during sex and lays in the sheets next to me at night without saying a word, I don’t know him. He doesn’t match up with the you who used to kiss my neck and whisper my name between kisses. You talk to me so little now that I feel like we never knew each other. It makes me feel like you don’t want a relationship with me.”

It didn’t feel true, but Tim understood that he was guilty of this. Some part of him was hoping that Jason loved him enough to let Tim take the parts of Jason that he wanted. Now Tim was realizing Jason loved him enough to say ‘Take it all or take nothing.’

He reached out to cup Jason’s face. “That’s not…My thoughts are dark and depressing and not likely to help anyone that hears them. I do want this relationship to work.”

Jason closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into Tim’s hand for a minute. He seemed to savor Tim’s affection like he’d been starved of it for far too long.

Finally Jason opened his eyes and said, “I know we’ve both been a bit… vacant recently. But we need to at least try to mend some bridges or else why are we even bothering staying together?”

Tim burrowed his teeth into his bottom lip and nodded at the floor. “Okay.”

He let his hand fall to his side and walked silently back to his room. That night he wrapped himself back up in his damp, sweat stained bedsheets. The moon was full and bright through Tim’s window. He stared up at it and went another night without rest.

      _____________________________________________________________

He found Jason in the library at one of the large tables under the windows. He’d brought the league files Talia had given him when he moved back into the manor. They were spread out before him now.

Tim struggled to keep his eyes on the top of Jason’s head where it was bent over his notepad. He didn’t need more information on Ra’s or the league to fuel his paranoia further.  

He took a deep breath before his spoke.

“Sometimes, you get this look in your eyes… this distant and almost painful look that I can never pin down, and just for a second, I see my mother’s eyes staring back at me.”

Jason tensed over his notepad, unsure if he should glance up. “What are you doing, Tim?”

“Just let me finish,” urged Tim.

“I can’t say that my mother was ever around enough for me to really understand her, let alone truly love her. But sometimes you get that same look and it reminds me of her. It’s about the only time I think of my mother and feel true sympathy for her.”

Finally, Jason pulled his gaze up to meet Tim’s eyes. “What was that about?”

“I’m telling you the truth… a truth . To match the one that you told me the other night. And if you ask me tomorrow, I’ll tell you another.”

Jason’s lips tilted up into a soft smile.

Despite the spark that that ignited inside of Tim’s chest, he pushed on until the end.

“I won’t lie to you, Jason, and make false promises for our future. For now the only promise I can make is to match a truth for a truth until the day comes when there are no secret thoughts left between us.”

Jason reached across the table to twine his fingers with Tim’s. “Thank you.”

       _____________________________________________________________

The leaves skittered across the road as Tim walked side by side with Bruce, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat to protect them from the cold air. Already they had walked for more than five minutes, leaving the imposing facade of Wayne Manor to fall away behind the large oak trees.

Bruce looked at him like he was intent of speaking up. His eyes dropped to the road stretching out ahead of them. He adjusted the scarf wrapped around his neck and spoke so suddenly that Tim knew it was a forced effort on the older man’s part.

“How’ve you— I mean… I’ve been seeing you and Jason together more. It seems like things are improving between you two.”

Tim’s lips twitched. “I think so. We’re taking the time to fix things but it’s slow going.”

“I was surprised when you asked if I’d like to take a walk with you today.” said Bruce. “You haven’t exactly been seeking out my company as of late.”

“That’s because every time I turn a corner in the manor you’re there offering it to me.” Tim grunted.

Tim glanced sideways at Bruce as he shrugged his shoulders. “Well I didn’t want to make the assumption that you didn’t need it. I’m trying to make amends too, Tim. I want you to feel like you can come to me.”

Tim sighed and pulled at hand free of his coat to rub at his brow. “Yeah, I know and I’m trying to get to the point where I feel safe coming to you instead of Jason. Maybe we’ll get there eventually, but you have to understand that you may never be able to support me emotionally like Jason can.”

Without realizing it, they had both stopped walking and stood facing each other on the side of the road. A cold breeze swept in between them, trailing dead leaves around their ankles.

Bruce squeezed Tim’s elbow. “I would never try to replace Jason, Tim. I just don’t want to lose you because of my past actions.”

Tim nodded, eyes on Bruce’s hand where it rested on his arm. He tried to remember the last time that he’d had a conversation like this with Bruce. One devoid of mission debriefings and words like self help and therapy. Back when it didn’t feel like Bruce was trying to phone it in until he could shove Tim off on the nearest medical professional.

Tim stepped in closer until he could lean his head against Bruce’s chest. Bruce’s arms came around him slowly, but the heat they offered was just as warm as Tim remembered it.

“You won’t lose me. I swear.”

It felt strange and comforting to have so many people close to him. The past week had seen Tim and Jason trading truths both big and small. Little things like Jason reminding Tim that he loved him and Tim echoing it without hesitation. And bigger truths like Tim telling Jason how he was sometimes afraid of the way that he loved Jason more than he’d loved Conner. Of how Tim felt hollowed by Jason’s death on such a grander scale. That same night, wrapped up in each other’s arms in the dark, Jason told Tim about one of his recurring nightmares. Their truths were fears, loves, dreams, and opinions. Slowly Tim felt their walls coming down brick by brick. With each one that came down Tim and Jason struggled to allow other members into their inner circle of trust.

It was slow, but it was a start.  

~~~ Fin ~~~

#collisions in the dark #jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #cassandra cain #damian wayne #Ra's al Ghul #JayTim #ra'stim #Stephanie Brown #angst #relationships #final chapter #batman #red robin #red hood #batman fic #dc comics #fanfiction #LittleDarlingXOX #bat-losers-inc

[ahgaseda]

to kill an empire || chapter 06

⇥ synopsis : when you agreed to marry Jaebeom, the heir to a lucrative but not quite legal organization, you never expected the boy who was once your greatest rival would inevitably become your most powerful ally...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language, recurring gang violence, mentions of drug or alcohol abuse, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Sunlight crept through the heavy curtains and cast a warmth over your face. With a sigh, you shifted and even more heat seeped into your chest, courtesy of the body against yours.

Jaebeom traced his fingertips over your skin, smiling when he realized you were finally waking. You were tucked to his side, your head on his chest and your arm across his waist. He had been awake for a little while, still in disbelief that he was in a bed with you, and didn’t dare disturb you after the long night you both shared together.

“Good morning, wife,” Jaebeom whispered softly.

Hearing his voice made you smile bashfully. Closing your eyes, you basked in the feeling of him beside you and after a pause, you rasped, “Good morning, husband.”

“How do you feel?” he asked, concerned.

Reminded of the events of last night, you shivered involuntarily and replied, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Jaebeom chuckled with pride and left a parting kiss on your head before withdrawing from the bed, grabbing his phone from the nightstand which - in your haze - you hadn’t noticed was ringing.

“Yeah,” he spoke into the receiver rather brashly. “That should be fine. She still needs to get ready.”

Wrapped in the sheets, you finally rose, leaning back against the headboard and humming loudly at the soreness between your thighs. Your eyes were on Jaebeom, the way he just couldn’t stand still. He drifted from one end of the bedroom to the other, murmuring impatiently to whoever was on the other end of the call.

You took the opportunity to reach for your own phone, snickering at the rather large number of unread texts you had from Hwasa. Deciding to answer later when you had the energy to sate her burning curiosity, you settled back into your previous comfortable position and called timidly, “Jaebeom?”

Expectantly he glanced at you, ignoring your informality.

“Do we have water or something?”

Your husband bobbed his head and moved to the nearby minibar, filling a small glass with ice and bottled water. Handing you the cup, you thanked him and drank in silence.

“That’s fine,” he said for the third time, voice faltering to a low growl.

You resisted the urge to chuckle. Seeing him irritated was amusing.

“Jinyoung, do I need to remind you I’m technically on my honeymoon?” he scolded, huffing loudly. “Only bother me with emergencies.”

After apologies on his assistant’s part, Jaebeom said his goodbyes and hung up the phone abruptly, then plopped down on the edge of the bed.

“Are you still going to be working while we’re gone?” you asked curiously, disappointment seeping into your tone.

“I will try my best not to,” Jaebeom replied, grumbling at the thought and running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Who knows when we’ll have the chance for a vacation again.”

Glancing around in search of a clock, you questioned, “Do I need to get dressed? When does our flight leave?”

Jaebeom waved away your worries and said, “You woke up early. Take your time. I will let you know when we need to leave. Jinyoung is arranging our ride to the airport.”

“Okay,” you sighed, handing him your now empty glass.

Jaebeom returned your cup to the small bar and turned around, lifting a brow at your expression. “What?”

Bemused, you tilted your head. “Hm?”

“The way you’re looking at me right now,” Jaebeom whispered, crimson appearing across his cheeks. “I’ve never seen that look before.”

You smiled and quickly bit your lip to hide it. Grabbing the hem of the sheet to make sure the material wouldn’t fall and expose your breasts, you shifted on the mattress and confessed, “I just... keep thinking about last night.”

Jaebeom shifted in surprise, but his eyes lit up. “Oh.”

“I didn’t know it would feel like that,” you added, noticing your pulse accelerated at the memory.

Jaebeom tilted his head and the sight of his boyish excitement made your heart flutter. “Like what?” he pressed softly.

“Good,” you replied without missing a beat. “Really, really good.”

“I’m relieved,” your husband said with a nervous chuckle.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Your gaze shifted and you murmured shyly, “I don’t suppose we have time to do it again?”

The fire that appeared in his eyes was undeniable, but Jaebeom certainly had more patience than you did. “It’s not time that concerns me,” he said levelly, resisting a smile at your invitation. “I’m more worried with you healing first. I’m sure it would hurt if we did it now.”

“True,” you exhaled in defeat, reminded of your soreness. “I didn’t think about that.”

“The honeymoon is just starting,” Jaebeom reminded, whispering your name almost in teasing. “Who knew my innocent wife was this thirsty?”

You grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it as his head, earning a very endearing grin that made you smile bashfully. Jaebeom managed to block the projectile at the last second and tossed it back to the spot at your side.

As you giggled, Jaebeom crawled toward you and you spread your thighs to make room for his knees. Though you were tangled in the sheets, feeling him between your legs again ignited a desire in you that could never be soothed. Jaebeom cupped your jaw and left a tender kiss on your lips before bringing his mouth to your neck. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back, moaning his name softly when he nipped at your skin.

The sounds you made were music to his ears and in his opinion, downright sinful. If it were up to Jaebeom, he would cancel the trip and just stay in the hotel suite with you until his family sent out a search party.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” Jaebeom growled against your flesh, speaking between kisses. “Every fucking chance I get.”

You shivered underneath him, sucking in a heavy breath as your body came alive at his touch. Jaebeom felt your reaction and smirked against your throat, leaving one last kiss as he tore himself away from you.

Pouting, you whined, “I know why you stopped, but why did you have to stop?”

Jaebeom laughed at you openly and hopped off of the bed, eyes fixated to you as he moved toward the minibar.

“Can I ask you something?” your husband spoke a moment later, pensive.

You nodded. “Ask me anything.”

Jaebeom studied your face and the image of you beneath him danced in his thoughts. Every moment that passed together, you were more and more beautiful to him. But he was haunted by self-doubt and by things he knew you weren’t yet aware about him.

“Do you find it odd that this is so easy for us?”

At first you weren’t sure if he meant the arranged marriage or the sex, but you realized your answer was the same for both. Chuckling, you confessed, “Yeah, it crossed my mind.”

“For the past few years, you and I have been,” he trailed, pausing. “Distant.”

“Yeah, are we gonna talk about that?” you asked, sitting up and wrapping your arms around your knees.

Jaebeom shook his head. “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Eventually we can, but for now, I just want to focus on this,” he said, motioning between you and him. “Us.”

“I understand,” you acquiesced, offering him a quick smile. “We should enjoy the honeymoon phase. Save the heavy talk for when we’re back home, right?”

“Yeah.” Jaebeom nodded, relieved at your openness with him. The two of you may have been at odds, but he had never lost your trust and that was what he hoped for most of all.

An hour later, you were seated in the private plane directly across from your husband. Fastening your seat belt, you gazed out the window at the tarmac.

Jaebeom spoke sternly with Jinyoung, who had taken the seat across the way and was managing a host of electronic devices. Youngjae was already in his chair, large headphones over his ears as his thumbs went to town on his favorite handheld gaming system.

You should have known the assistants would be in tow.

When Jinyoung suggested a meeting take place with Jaebeom and a constituent in Tokyo, your eyes flashed and you called, “Jinyoung?”

“Yes?” he questioned in surprise.

Offering an unsettling smile your father had helped you master since childhood, you warned with a pleasant tone, “If you keep trying to steal my husband away from me, I am going to become your worst nightmare.”

“I understand,” Jinyoung replied, unnerved.

Impressed, Jaebeom’s eyes were on you and the heat in his gaze told you he would love nothing more than to steal a kiss. Too bad the seat belts were already fastened for take off.

“Sometimes I forget you’re not to be played with,” Jaebeom whispered to you a moment later when Jinyoung had moved to the back of the cabin.

Crossing your legs, you replied, “Did you forget I was raised to take over an empire, too?”

Your husband smiled and a silent understanding passed between reaffirmed, unshakable allies.

chapter 05 ⇤ chapter 06 ⇥ chapter 07

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

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#got7 fanfiction #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #jaebum scenarios #jaebum imagines #jaebum fanfiction #jaebum reactions

[twilight-adamo]

Author’s Notes: Brave New World, Chapter 1: The Parting of the Ways

In April 2018, the same day I posted the epilogue to As Dreams Are Made On, I wrote the first scene of Brave New World, and most of the second. And then I got stuck, for quite a long time. I lost myself in research, tried to build out my plans, tried to focus on other things for a time, particularly These Our Actors, which posed its own challenges - but I’ll cover that in my author’s notes on Rosalie’s installment. I had a difficult year for a number of reasons. For a time I wasn’t writing at all.

I see from the revision history that I only came back to Brave New World in February of this year, spent a couple days on it, and left it alone again until June. June was when I finally realized that there was one particular thing in my life that was destroying my mental health and my ability to create, and that I was carrying on with it out of a sense of obligation, but I’d help no one - least of all myself - if I wore myself down on it. So, reluctantly, I dropped the obligation that was dominating my mental landscape, I took a step back, and I allowed myself to breathe. I’m still not working at a hundred percent, but I am getting better. And over the last few days, I’ve been able to write again.

My original plan for this chapter had been to focus on the wedding of Charlie and Kate, and I threw myself into a ton of wedding research, wanting to get everything just right. I figured Carlisle would officiate, so I researched Anglican marriage services and drew heavily on what I found. I looked at venues and considered colors and organized the wedding party and stopped just short of actually planning an entire wedding. And I got through the ceremony, which felt shorter than it should be, and I was beginning to write what came after, and I was thinking about what I had planned for the reception (notably what probably would have been an even cheesier musical moment than the rendition of “The Best Is Yet To Come” from the epilogue of As Dreams Are Made On), and I realized...none of it was working from me. It was indulgent in a story which is already going to get indulgent in parts, but worse, it was dull. My protagonist didn’t have much to do aside from stand and watch and react.

I also wanted to have a family meeting scene where we got some sense of where everyone was going over the summer, what they were doing, and I had a choice between tacking it onto the end of an overstuffed and boring first chapter or onto the beginning of the second chapter, which I’d planned to set primarily in Jacksonville. So I finally looked at the ten or so pages of wedding stuff I’d already written, considered how much more I would need to get through and how little I would enjoy it, and decided it all had to go. The first chapter would focus entirely on the family meeting, a last goodbye to Forks before I started the grand road trip that would take up the first few chapters of the book. Once I’d figured that out, I finished the first chapter in a day or two. It’s still a little more talking than I’d like and a little less action, but I think it sets up the next chunk of story nicely, at least.

As for the stuff I didn’t cut: as I said, Bella’s nightmare was the very first thing I wrote. I’ve made some minor tweaks here and there, but it’s pretty close to what I originally wrote over a year ago. I wanted to show some of the psychological effect of Bella’s decision to start a fight with the Volturi, I wanted to show that Eleazar’s panicked reaction to whatever he saw had affected her, and I wanted to start things off with a sense of menace hanging over our heroes. The Cullens and their extended network of friends and family may not be in a state of outright war, but there is still danger lurking at the edges of their lives, and unresolved mysteries hiding just below the surface of things. I wanted to spin a vision of something that could yet be, and establish that “happily ever after” is still a long way away, down a dark and twisted road.

It was also just enormous fun to write.

And it was a nice segue into a domestic scene with Alice and Bella, a glimpse of their lives a few weeks on from our last visit with them. We already got such a glimpse in the epilogue of the last volume, but seeing as that chapter was focused largely on prom, I thought they deserved a little alone time.

I spent a great deal of time trying to work out the plan for the summer - where everyone would be going, what they would be doing. I actually nearly forgot to include Eleanor in those plans, up until the last minute. I’m sorry to say that, focused as Brave New World is on Bella’s perspective, we’re not going to see much of the others’ adventures in this text, but they’re certainly fodder for future installments of These Our Actors, and Bella will get updates here and there, particularly once everyone is reunited in Forks. Bella, Alice, Rosalie and Emmett will all have quite enough on their own plates, so hopefully none of you will be bored.

There will be much more of Renée - and Phil - in the next chapter, which will cover the gang’s time in Jacksonville. I confess I’ve never been to Jacksonville (I’ve really only visited Florida for the theme parks) so I’ve got a bit of research to do. “I’ve got a bit of research to do” is likely to be my recurring mantra on this story, as I’m trying to blow out the boundaries of this world, introduce vampires we never met in the Twilight novels from places that were never really touched on, and perhaps bring in stranger things besides. But that’s a way off. For now, I’m a little ways into Chapter 2 (and have even written a bit of Chapter 3), and having great fun writing Bella’s free-spirited mother. I hope you’ll love my take on her as much as I do.

And now, as a bonus, I present the raw text cut from Chapter 1 of Brave New World. I’ve held onto it for reference, in case I decide to draw on it for flashbacks or a future installment of These Our Actors, and it’s possible the details may change, but since I don’t have any plans for it now, I thought I’d share what I came up with before I changed directions. It’s under the cut. I’m afraid not all my formatting carried over into Tumblr’s interface, but you should get the gist.

(Picking up from the end of the scene with Bella and Alice in bed at the cottage.)

I’d been pretty scarce around Forks the last few weeks, since school let out - I’d completely missed late spring giving way to high summer. Officially, I had been busy helping my dad and his new bride with wedding preparations. In actuality, I’d spent most of that time dropping into comas, recovering from them, and moving on to the next. I’d had a limited window of opportunity to turn a few select vampires human, and no time to waste. Edward had been the first to volunteer - he’d told Angela the truth, and she’d eventually decided she wanted to be with him regardless, but he still wanted to lose his bloodlust for the time being, and needed a bit of a break from everyone else’s thoughts after the past few months. I had carefully packed his powers away for safekeeping, then taken his vampirism from him. At his request, we were leaving him human until he reached his long-delayed eighteenth birthday.

Rosalie, Eleanor and Emmett had decided to turn human, too, and I had requested that they stay that way until Carlisle had finished identifying effective birth control techniques for hybrids, or at least until the summer ended. Kate hadn’t become pregnant just yet - and I really didn’t want to consider just how miraculous that was - but I didn’t want to push our luck with another extremely sexual and potentially fertile couple. Or thruple, as the case seemed to be - they had become much more open in their mutual affections toward Eleanor since she and Jessamine had moved to Forks.

Jasper and his sister - now going by Mina to avoid confusion - had decided to stay vampires for the time being, as had Carlisle, Esme, Tanya and Irina, though I had made my tweaks to the new arrivals so they and the shifters would no longer find one another offensive, assuming the vampires all stuck to non-human blood. It was just as well. With a five day coma after each de-vamping exercise and a day for recovery, I’d been cutting things awfully close to the rehearsal and the wedding itself. And no matter what dad said, I still felt a little guilty about that, even if he and Kate had plenty of help from everyone else. Especially since I was in the wedding party, if not precisely in the role I’d expected. At least I wasn’t maid of honor or best man, so to speak - those particular honors had gone to Irina and to Harry Clearwater, respectively. But I was still expected to stand at the altar.

After a luxurious spell in bed, followed by a relaxed breakfast and a shower, Alice “helped” me dress in the tuxedo she’d made for me, complete with high-collared blouse, fitted waistcoat, and a navy blue bow tie and cummerbund, all of it tailored perfectly to my frame. In all honesty, it was a blatant excuse to get her hands all over me and take me in one last time before the ceremony, but I can’t say I minded. At last, she finished, tying my hair back with a navy ribbon and kissing me softly, leaving me to finish my makeup while she hurried to meet Kate, Irina and the other bridesmaids.

Once I’d finished preparing, there wasn’t much left to do but head for the Cullens’ house, where dad and the rest of his party would be waiting until the time came to head for the venue. A mixed crowd of humans, hybrids, werewolves and most importantly vampires meant we were taking no chances with an outdoor wedding, and we were probably one of the few wedding parties this summer hoping for rain, or at least overcast skies. Fortunately, we’d gotten the latter, at least long enough to get the vampires into the hall, and by the time the reception was over with, it would be well past sunset.

It didn’t take too long to walk to the main house from the love nest Alice and I had made of Pine Cottage, and I arrived to find the others gathered around a table in the den, in the middle of a game of poker. There were two other groomsmen after Harry and myself: Emmett, and dad’s Deputy Chief, Joe Miller. From the pile of chips in front of him and the enormous frat boy grin on his face, it looked like Emmett was taking the others for all they were worth.

“Hey Bella!” he called out, waving as I came in and gesturing at the empty seat beside my father. “Want us to deal you in?”

I chuckled, taking the seat but shaking my head. “Thanks, but Alice already warned me about you. Hey, dad. Please tell me you didn’t put your honeymoon fund on the line.”

I nudged him with my shoulder, and he slung his arm around me, giving me a brief hug. “Hi, kiddo. The honeymoon fund’s safe. Kate would kill me. You girls didn’t think to warn me?”

“Well, you know, I’ve been busy. Distracted. And I figured Emmett would be too much of a gentleman to take advantage of a man on his wedding day,” I added, shooting a mock glare at the ex-vampire in question.

“Your first mistake was assuming I’m any kind of gentleman,” Emmett returned, with a broad smirk. “Besides, I respect Charlie too much to just let him win.”

Dad gave him a deadpan look. “I’m touched. Really. You can respect me a little less, though.”

“Can’t do it, sir.” Emmett drew himself up, looking impossibly earnest, save for the twinkle in his eye. “Did I ever tell you you’re my hero? You’re everything I wish I could be.”

“He’s been like this for the last hour. I’m starting to think he’s just always on,” Deputy Chief Miller remarked, glancing my way. “How’s your summer been, Bella?”

“Trust me, this is just the tip of the iceberg with him,” I replied, gesturing at Emmett, who chuckled. “Oh, you know, good. Busy with wedding stuff, getting ready to leave town, all that. Alice and I are heading to Jacksonville with mom and Phil after the wedding, we’ll be back in August.”

“Your, uh, girlfriend’s going on vacation with you?” he said, his eyebrows rising.

“Don’t worry, Rose and me will be chaperoning,” Emmett interjected cheerfully.

Dad cleared his throat. “More importantly, Renée and her husband will be providing adult supervision. And separate guest rooms.”

I bit my lip to hide my smile. I still didn’t really have memories of my mom - or, rather, the mom I had here and now - and I’d only recently gotten to spend any time with her, since she and Phil had come to town for the wedding. It had all been e-mail and phone calls before that. But from my memory of the books, and based on my interactions with her so far, I would not really call Renée Dwyer a responsible adult, and Phil was friendly and level-headed but not really a parent to me. That suited me fine - I didn’t really feel like an actual teenager, even now, and I didn’t need active parenting - but it was apparently important to dad to keep up the convenient fiction.

What he wasn’t saying, of course, was that Jacksonville was only part of our trip. That just about everyone except Edward was leaving Forks for the summer, and that in fact he had no honeymoon fund to worry about, because Alice had arranged everything.

“Huh. Well, uh...have fun down in Florida. Is Jacksonville anywhere near the theme parks?” Miller asked, clearly ready to change the subject.

“It’s not - not any of the big ones, anyway - but Carlisle and Esme are going to join us down in Orlando for a few days before we head back,” I lied - another little fiction, this one mainly for my mom’s sake, but we were all keeping to a consistent narrative. “So we’ll be going to Disney World, anyway. The Cullens have never been, and they’ve been nice enough to invite me along.”

The deputy chief’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at Emmett, the lone Cullen in the room. “Seriously? What with this house and all, I sort of figured you’d be going every year.”

“Oh, we don’t travel much once we put down roots. It’s mainly just camping trips,” Emmett said. “Can’t wait to ride Space Mountain, though.”

“Gentlemen, I think we have a hand to finish?” Harry interjected at last, a little smirk on his face. “And then maybe we can find something to do that doesn’t give Emmett a chance to shake us down.”

“We have a pool table,” Emmett suggested innocently.

“We are not falling for that twice, kid,” dad said firmly. “Joe, I think it was your bet.”

“God help me,” Miller said, shaking his head as he pushed in his chips.

*****

After the game came to its merciful conclusion, we had just enough time for a movie before it was time to head for the venue. Neither dad nor Kate had been especially invested in the idea of a church wedding, so they’d picked out a lodge in the nearby woods, and asked Carlisle to officiate. I’d only seen the venue in photos. Seeing it in person, nestled among the towering pines, decorated in fairy lights and banners of blue and silver and lavender, the whole scene accompanied by the sounds of the wind in the trees and the river flowing nearby...I was simply awestruck by everything that lay before me.

“Well then. Guess this is our cue to go around back and get in position,” Harry said, clapping my dad on the shoulder. “You ready for this, Charlie?”

I looked over at dad. He, too, seemed briefly stunned and frozen. But when Harry spoke, he started to break into a grin. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“You’ve got this, dad.” I turned to him and gave him a loose hug. “I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“I love you, too, Bells,” he said, hugging me back and kissing the top of my head. “Go on, then, I know you’re eager to see Alice.”

“God, you make it sound like we’re codependent,” I complained, lightly, pulling back. Not that he was entirely wrong: I could definitely feel a tingle of excitement running through me as I headed inside with Emmett and the deputy chief.

The rest of the wedding party was gathered in the lodge’s tiny lobby, preparing for their grand entrance to the great room. We didn’t have a ring bearer or a flower girl - Harry had the rings - but everyone else was prepared to play their role. I wasted no time making my way to Alice’s side, slipping my arm around her waist, while Emmett followed me at a more sedate pace, chuckling softly as he joined Rosalie.

“We were never that bad,” he remarked to Rose, looking at the two of us.

“Oh, you were worse,” she returned, smirking up at him. He made a scandalized noise in response.

“Is that how we’re going to play it, Rose? ‘Cause I seem to recall a particularly insatiable little -”

“How did the wedding prep go?” I asked Alice, tuning the two of them out as I turned to kiss her cheek. “You look gorgeous.”

“Mmm, I’d hope so, after all that. It was nice to be pampered. The makeup artist was a bit of a perfectionist, but Kate got the worst of it,” she replied, looking up at me through her lush, dark eyelashes, a smile curving her red lips. Her hair framed her face in messy waves, and of course she looked amazing in her bridesmaid’s dress - lavender, strapless, accented in silver, tailored to fit the individual figures of each woman in Kate’s wedding party. “It’s possible the poor woman suffered a static shock or two.”

“I told Kate to use her powers for good,” I joked, my eyes sweeping over the room. Eleanor and Deputy Chief Miller, who’d be escorting her up the aisle, had joined Emmett and Rose, and the deputy chief seemed a little lost and perhaps slightly scandalized by the increasingly shameless flirting among the trio. And Kate, as might be expected, was sandwiched between her maid of honor, Irina, and Tanya, who’d be giving Kate away in the place of their mother.

Kate, naturally, looked absolutely incredible. Her normally straight blonde hair had been curled and bound up in an elaborate updo, and dangling silver and sapphire earrings glittered at her earlobes. A brass pendant, formed in a sort of hammer shape and decorated with elaborate, curling lines, hung from a chain about her neck. Her wedding dress was also strapless, all white and silver, the bodice clinging tightly to her figure as it swept down to the full skirts that frothed about her legs, interrupted only by a lavender sash tied about her waist. She looked radiantly happy, her joy outshining her natural hybrid glow.

Alice and I made our way over to her, and I offered a slightly hesitant one-armed hug. “You look amazing, Kate. I just wanted to wish you and dad all the best, one more time, before we get started.”

“Thank you, Bella,” she replied, returning the hug, awkwardly at first, but we both relaxed into a genuine embrace after a moment. “I’m...well I’m glad you’ve accepted all this so easily. And that your mother has been so welcoming. I wasn’t sure…”

“Please, don’t worry about it,” I told her softly, though I could feel that slight, uneasy shift in the pit of my stomach, even now. I tried to quiet it: I’d seen how happy dad and Kate were, how good they were for each other. They were the same people they’d always been, or at least dad was, but happier. Still...the mating bond hadn’t given either of them much choice. I worried about that, as I still, sometimes, worried about Alice. As fast as I’d fallen for her, I’d still been able to do so on my own terms. That was something Alice never got to do, and a chance dad and Kate would never have.

I forced a smile nonetheless as I continued, practiced enough now to make it genuine - which it was, really, mostly, despite my doubts. “Both of us just want dad to be happy. And you make him so happy - I’ve seen it, and now mom’s seen it, and she’s already remarried. She loves my dad but...they didn’t work. You two do. You just...fit.”

Maybe Kate caught something in my body language or my tone, despite all my best efforts, because she looked at me with faintly troubled eyes. But just as she was opening her mouth to say something more, we all heard the music starting in the other room, and Irina clapped her hands.

“Positions, everyone! Bridesmaids and groomsmen, go,” she announced, loud and clear. There was no more time to chat.

Alice and I were last in the procession of groomsmen and bridesmaids, and she nudged me gently as we swept into the room, murmuring softly. “You all right? You just seem…”

“I’m fine,” I whispered, through my smile, as we walked down the aisle under Carlisle’s benevolent gaze, surrounded by our family, friends and loved ones, going to meet dad and Harry at the altar. “Just getting in my own head a little.”

“Mmmm. Stop it,” she said, squeezing my arm as our moment came to part. “We’ll talk later.”

I nodded, very slightly, and we took our positions on either side of the aisle, watching Irina walk up last of all. The music changed, shifting to a classic bridal march, and everyone’s eyes were on Kate as Tanya walked her slowly and gracefully up the aisle. She was smiling brightly enough to transform her face into something even more beautiful, and broadly enough that it seemed like her face might crack in two, and I knew without looking that dad’s gaze was locked on her, his smile just as bright. Love and passion just radiated off the two of them, a palpable force filling the room from wall to wall. The room fell to a reverent hush, and for a moment I would have sworn I could hear their two hearts beating as one.

At last, the moment was broken by Carlisle’s voice, deceptively soft and yet resonant enough to fill the room. “Cherished friends, we come together today to witness the joining of Charles Geoffrey Swan and Katrina Sashova in holy matrimony, to ask for God’s blessing upon their union, to share in their joy, and to celebrate their love. For of all the gifts bestowed upon us by our Creator, love is the most precious, the most fragile, and the most important. As it is written in First Corinthians, love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

“We are taught that marriage is a gift of love, for God is love. It is a gift of God in creation and a means of God’s grace, for through this holy mystery, two become as one. Marriage is given that each partner might help the other, living faithfully in need and in plenty, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy. It is given that with delight and with tenderness those so joined might know each other in love, and that through the joy of spiritual and of bodily union, they may strengthen the connection between their hearts and minds. Marriage is a grace visited not only upon those joined in matrimony but upon all their loved ones - not only upon any children that may arise from the union but also upon their beloved community.

“In marriage, those so joined belong to one another, and embark upon a new life within their community. It is not a gift to be taken lightly, carelessly, or selfishly, but reverently, responsibly, and after serious thought. This is the way of life that Charles and Katrina are now to begin. I have been privileged to know them, and privileged to witness their love for one another. I believe with all my heart that these two are meant to be one. And now I must ask: if anyone here knows of any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence followed. I wasn’t expecting anything else, but even so, it felt like the world had let out a breath it didn’t know it had been holding. Dad and Kate beamed at one another once again.

“Very well,” Carlisle said, breaking into a warm smile of his own. “Charles and Katrina, I now invite you to join hands and to deliver your vows in the presence of God and of all assembled here. May you speak honestly and without reservation, from the bottom of your hearts.”

Dad and Kate stepped forward, closer to one another, joining hands, and for a moment dad seemed at a loss for words, until his perfect hybrid memory kicked in and he found his place once more. He cleared his throat and chuckled nervously under his breath. “I, Charles Swan, take you, Katrina Sashova, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward: for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I swear to love, cherish, and honor you each day, from now until my last day on this Earth, in God’s name and by God’s grace.”

“I, Katrina Sashova, take you, Charles Swan, to be my lawfully wedded husband,” Kate returned, her eyes shining just slightly, her face aglow with more than the usual hybrid radiance. “To have and to hold from this day forward: for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I swear to love, cherish, and honor you each day, from now until my last day on this Earth, in God’s name and by God’s grace.”

“I believe the best man has the rings?” Carlisle said, taking them gently as Harry offered them, and cradling one in each hand. “God, by your blessing, let these rings to be to Charles and Katrina be a symbol of unending love and faithfulness, to remind them of the vow and the covenant which they have made this day in your holy presence. Amen.”

With that, he handed the rings off, and I could see dad’s fingers tremble just a little, almost imperceptibly, as he slipped Kate’s ring on her finger. “With this ring, I pledge myself to you, giving you all that I am, and sharing with you all that I have.”

Kate echoed his words softly, slipping his ring onto his finger in turn, and Carlisle joined their hands together, covering them loosely with his own.

“What God has seen fit to join, let no man put asunder,” he pronounced solemnly. “And by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Charlie, you may kiss your bride.”

They were moving before he was done talking, and somehow mustered enough restraint to move slow enough for the human eye to follow, though I heard more than a little laughter at their eagerness nonetheless. Charlie swept Kate readily into his arms, tilting her back just a little as they kissed fiercely, her bouquet dropping to the ground as her hands reached up to cup his cheek.

The room broke into wild applause, with a few hoots and whistles mixed in, and my eyes caught Alice’s as we clapped. For one wild, breathless moment, I wanted to throw caution to the wind, speed to her side and take her in my arms as well, hell, maybe even tell Carlisle to marry us here and there. But just a split second later, I felt a sort of coolness rushing through me, like a cold shower inside my mind, and my gaze swept into the audience, where Jasper raised one eyebrow at me expressively and inclined his head. I gave him a sheepish grin, then looked back at Alice, who winked and blew me a kiss before turning her attention back to the matter at hand. A triumphant march played as the wedding party swept back outside for photos and drinks and all the rest while the lodge staff moved everything around again for the reception.

*****

“I’ll be honest, that was way more God than I was expecting,” Callie remarked to me, once I’d been excused from modeling duty and we had a moment alone.

I shrugged. “Dad and Kate believe in a vague something. It was enough to have a vaguely religious ceremony. Besides, Carlisle’s dad was an Anglican pastor.”

Callie downed some of her sparkling cider, her eyes narrowing at me. “Is that a ‘lingering obsession with Twilight factoid’ or an ‘I spend all my time around the Cullens’ factoid?”

“Column A, column B,” I said, with another slight shrug. “I already knew about it, but I mean, we do talk. Anyway, Carlisle’s not nearly as hardcore as his father was, but he’s religious enough and in the know, so…”

“Vaguely religious ceremony. Right. Gotta say it was probably also the shortest wedding I’ve ever been to,” Callie replied, before looking sadly at her half-full glass. “And it’s the most sober wedding I’ve been to in a while. For us, anyway.”

“Yeah, being legally underage definitely has its downside. And please, you saw that kiss - I don’t think we could’ve gotten those two to wait much longer.”

Callie snorted. “True. Hell, you and Alice probably won’t even make it past ‘dearly beloved’.”

Mom chose that moment to come up just behind Callie, her eyebrows rising at the remark, and I immediately started laughing just a little too loudly. “Ha ha! Like we’re about to get married - which we’re not - because I’m seventeen! I am still just...seventeen. And in high school. And not even thinking about getting married. Yep. Good one, Cal, mom, you remember Callie.”

Callie stared at me and shook her head slightly before turning to face my mother. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Dwyer. Did you enjoy the ceremony?”

“I did, thank you,” mom said, granting me a brief respite as she smiled warmly at Cal. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything over here.”

I shot Callie a pleading glance, and she looked in my direction just long enough to smirk at me before shaking her head. “No, not at all. I should probably go meet up with my parents. You two should catch up. See you later.”

“Of course. We’ll see you around,” mom agreed, and Callie gave a slight wave and moved off. I glared daggers at her retreating back, just for a moment, while mom watched her leave and shook her head. “I still have no idea how you get a nickname like ‘Callie’ out of a name like ‘Tara Chen’.”

“It just suits her,” I mumbled, sighing. “Long story.”

“If you say so. Now, let me look at you.” Mom turned back to me, putting her hands on my shoulders, taking me in. “I still can’t believe how big you’ve gotten, Bella. Or how...oh, what’s the word....dashing, maybe? How dashing you look in that suit.”

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #twilight au #the tempest trilogy #the tempestverse #bellice #brave new world

[eisthenameofme]

Excerpts from the second half of chapter 1 of The Object Stares Back.

."Seeing is effortless and mercurial, or so it seems, and it appears we prefer it that way. But we cannot permanently forget the harshness and pressure of seeing. Seeing is at the very root of our way of getting along in the world, and a single look can have all the force of hatred and violence that may end up being expressed in more brutal ways. Consider, for instance,  a particularly harsh example of seeing, one that bears evidence of the intimate connection between the habitual incessant searching of seeing and some less pleasant thoughts, especially unhappiness,  displeasure, violence, and pain."

."This is the violent side of seeing, where the mere act of looking - an act that can also be the gentlest, least invasive way to make contact with the world - becomes so forceful that it turns a human being into a naked, shivering example of a medical condition. "

."This seeing is aggressive: it distorts what it looks at, and it turns a person into an object in order to let us stare at it without feeling ashamed. Here seeing is not only possessing [...]; seeing is also controlling and objectifying and denigrating. In short, it is an act of violence and it creates pain.

Yet it seems to me that all seeing has this property, and even though it can be modified or diluted, it can never be eradicated."

."[...] I want to say that displeasure is something that accompanies all seeing, not just medical photographs. John Pecham, a medieval scientist who thought long and hard about seeing, came to the conclusion that in order for vision to work, it must hurt just a little. [...] All seeing, I think, is painful."

."If I listen very carefully, there is displeasure in every glance. Looking is not only active - it is a form of the desire to possess or be possessed - but potentially violent. [...] And in an exactly mirroring fashion, the pleasure of finding the object I'm looking for or discovering some glamorous picture of myself are continuous with the temptation to succumb to the morbid fascination of the eunuch's portrait."

."Sometimes the desire to possess what is seen is so intense that vision reaches outward and creates the objects themselves. [...] But if the desire grows large enough, it can impel us to make what we want to see out of whole cloth."

."[...] those images are not just passively recorded in my mind. Looking immidiately activates desire, possession, violence, displeasure, pain, force, ambition, power, obligation, gratitude, longing... there seems to be no end to what seeing is, to how it is tangled with living and acting. But there is no such thing as just looking."

."We construct theories about how all seeing is fraught with gender constructions and power relations, but then we study works of art as if we were just trying to appreciate them - as if we had no desire to possess them by writing about them and reproducing them in our books, as if we had no urge to capture and domesticate the odd things of the world. [...] We write books about art and leave ourselves out, as if we weren't involved."

."But I think there's much more wrong here. The whole sentence is suspect: there is no such thing as just looking, and there is also no such thing as an object that is simply looked at by something else called an observer. Looking is much to complex to be reduced to a formula that has a looking subject and a seen object. If I observe attentively enough, I find that my observations are tangled with the object, that the object is part of the world and therefore part of me, that looking is something I do but also something that happens to me - so that the neat architecture of the sentence becomes a morass."

."This painting (figure 3), which has the traditional title Icon with the Fiery Eye, is in a church in Moscow; but it also exists in many different sizes and shapes on postcards and in books, including this one. Each one is a different face. Even the reproduction on page 37 will change, depending on where you are right now as you're reading this. It will look different if you're on a sofa, or eating, or reading in bed. [...] Each time you glance at this picture it will mean something slightly different."

."And we are no less guilty of failing to speak about our own ways of seeing: our own irreligion, our assumptions about what is of interest."

."Within limits, I do not want to see things from a single point of view: I hope to be flexible, to think in as liquid a way as I can, and even to risk incoherence.  And above all, I want to continue to change - I do not wish to remain the same jaded eye that I was a moment ago. Art is among the experiences I rely on to alter what I am."

."At first the students have a hard time looking at one image hour after hour, week after week. As the semester wears on and they spend five hours a day, two or three days a week, standing in one place and looking at one image, they tell me that they begin to have dreams about the paintings - and some of them also report nightmares. Many students rebel against the power of the images, and they complain that the paintings dog them, recurring like hallucinations when they are trying to eat or watch television. [...] Over the course of the semester the paintings have surprised and bored them, chastised them in their daydreams, scared them in nightmares, and eventually seduced them."

."An image is not a piece of data in an information system. It is a corrosive, something that has the potential to tunnel into me, to melt part of what I am and re-form it in another shape. Some things in me are different because of that image, and that means - if I am willing to let down my guard and be honest about how this works - that I am not the same person I was before. [...] If pictures are corrosives, it is because light itself is an acid: it burns into me; it remakes me in its own image."

(This is one of my favorites)

."When it comes to seeing, objects and observers alter one another, and meaning goes in both directions."

."These are not things that happen sometimes, or under special conditions. They are not subtle nuances or refinements to the way we look at objects. Instead, they are the conditions of seeing itself. A picture is the ways and places it is viewed, and I am the result of those various encounters."

."And so looking has force: it tears, it is sharp, it is an acid. In the end, it corrodes the object and observer until they are lost in the field of vision. I once was solid, and now I am dissolved: that is the voice of seeing."

(This is also one of my favorites)

(And at this point I'd just like to add that this book is somehow exactly what I would expect as the result of someone listening to TMA and intentionally trying trying to write a book connected to Beholding. It is very decidedly feeding my obsession.)

#TOSB #tma #The magnus archives #i didn't need to be enabled like this but here we are #and this is now one of my favorite books/my favorite nonfiction book

[simplylove101]

A Place Isn’t Home - Chapter 3: Parts of You I’ll Never Know

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Not that there was much to do in an underground mansion. Not until the boys did their planned handiwork eventually anyway. So, after some idle chatter at dinner, everyone just seemed like they needed some rest. Worrying about their evil parents and managing their sanity could wait until tomorrow.

Later that night though, Gert was finding herself unable to sleep again. This insomniac behavior of hers was clearly becoming a thing, and she was not happy about it at all. Actually, she had managed to get some rest for a little bit until the dream she had been having began to turn into a nightmare. Another one featuring the man that the group knew simply as Jonah, who apparently turned out to be Karolina’s biological father, threatening their lives as their parents just stood by and watched.

Wow, so this is going to be an every night thing now? Great.

Gert knew this had been only her second time having the dream but it did still concern her if this really was going to be a recurring thing. The group was safe. They were staying in an underground mansion, for God’s sake! At least for now, there really was no need to be worrying about being found.

Yet, she couldn’t shake her uneasy feeling from the look of the man’s menacing face. That night at the construction site, the parents had been panicked for their kids’ sakes when Jonah had shown up, but in her nightmare, they stood at his side in an unsettling stoic manner that was pretty spine-tingling to think about. So, it was no wonder why Gert really didn’t want to go back to sleep yet. Or ever, really.

Singing herself to sleep didn’t really seem like an option here, but the thought of going to see her dinosaur companion sounded like a possible cheer-up. If nothing else, Old Lace could keep her company for the night. So, with that in mind, Gert made her way to the door to look for the creature, who had decided that the dilapidated grand foyer was fine enough for her despite being such a mess. Gert told herself that it was because Old Lace was being protective and choosing to stay by the entrance in the odd-chance they had an intruder. Bless that dinosaur.

What she hadn’t planned to see when she opened her door was Chase, standing outside of his own, clearly about to let himself into his room. He looked over as her door made a small creaking sound. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey.”

Read the rest on Ao3 here

Reposting this since I can’t see my original post in the tag for some reason and I really want people to see this! I posted this last night and proud of how this chapter came out. Emotional shit goes down.

#gertchase #gertchase fic #gertchase fanfiction #gert x chase #marvel's runaways #a place isn't home #gert yorkes #chase stein

[levi-inthesun]

Summer at Camp Duff

Part 3 (2 of 2)

Where Stella Opens Up

A/N: ONE WORD: THERAPY. These pure humans need THERAPY. Everyone needs therapy, but anyways. I AM SO EXCITED TO HEAR WHAT YOU GUYS THINK OF THIS CHAPTER!!!

Part 3 (1 of 2)

Steve wanted to figure out how you were connected to the upside-down and what events lead to your hip being a Demogorgon snack. So, when the sun started going down and the kids were off playing night games, Steve found you decorating the cabins.

“Hey there Scout,” Steve said awkwardly stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

“Hiya Steve, what is going on?” You set the staple gun down and brushed your hands off on your shorts.

“Well, I was hoping we could talk, and since the groups are off doing night games together and we have a fantastic view of this sunset,” he said motioning to the view with a nod of his head. He motioned for you to come sit down by him on a log overlooking the lake.

“Okay, Steve what did you want to talk about.” You sat down next to him and nudged him with your arm.

“Well, first of all, you cannot blow me off again like you did last night,” he said pointedly. “Second I know you were involved with the upside-down.”

You stared straight ahead trying to keep yourself rooted, ignoring the internal instinct screaming within you to run away and never look back.

“Now, what you also need to know is that I was also involved. I know earlier I told you that Dustin and I go way back and everything, but by way back I mean last year when the Demogorgon’s attacked. Dustin found a baby one and raised it and then found out it was a Demo-dog, that’s what he nicknamed them since they weren’t fully grown, and I had a bat with nails in it, which is currently in my car because ya never know! Anyways, I also know that you know about Eleven. She’s the reason they went away this last time, she closed the gate that Hawkins lab made her open. It’s crazy but it happened.” Steve sighed, looking over at you to gauge how you were reacting to all of this. All he saw was a stone-cold face you were putting on and recognized it. He’d felt empty trying to deal with everything afterward on his own.

“Stella, dealing with this stuff is insane. I tried to cope with everything on my own and I found myself spiraling and I just couldn’t handle it by myself. So, I need you to know I am here for you. When you need someone to talk to about all of it, I will be there for you. I won’t force you, but please. Let me help you.”

You felt like Steve was looking straight into your soul. You felt like he could see all of the hurt you’ve had to deal with on your own. There was a part of you that wanted to just spill everything. You didn’t have access to a support system like this. The closest thing you’d had was a shitty relationship with an abusive boyfriend, and that’s saying something. Yeah, you’d made friends with a lot of the girls you went to school with, even had a few meaningful relationships. But once everything had started last year, you pushed everyone away, trying to protect the ones you loved from the horrible demons that were your reality.

Steve realized he was overstaying his welcome and got up to leave you when you stopped him.

“Steve wait,” he turned to look back at you, worry filling his golden-brown eyes. “I uh…. I don’t have anyone. You’re right, and it’s been really crappy. I uh… I’m not in a good place right now. I’m using camp to distract myself, but I really don’t know what I’m gonna do when I leave for school... Like… It will be so so good to get out of this place. Leave my real-life nightmares, ya know?” You looked up at Steve, your dark brown eyes were filled with sorrow and fear. “I just don’t think I can talk about it yet… But…. I will, I think.” 

You stood up facing Steve, you were only inches away from him. You felt your heart start to race, but wanted to take control of whatever was going on. You leaned forward a little, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for… well… being here,” you whispered, before you walked off, lighting some of the torches you had set up for when the kids got back from playing camp-wide night games.

As it turned out, a few of your kids ran into some poison ivy and were spending the night in the nurse's cabin, leaving you with what you learned was called the ‘party’. It was you, Steve, and these brave kids who had also faced the horrible things you had faced and you realized that maybe what was needed tonight was a little vulnerability. These kids needed to heal just as much, or maybe more than you did. Steve needed to heal too. You could see it as he had pleaded with you to talk to him, to let him help you, that he needed the same. Even though you wanted to just swallow the events from the past year and pretend it never happened, it was time to open that can of worms.

You knew Max had recurring nightmares. She had woken up in a panic the night before and told you so. She was finally able to fall asleep when you agreed to sleep next to her.

El was struggling. You couldn’t place exactly how, but you could see it. You knew how much she loved Mike, but she was pushing herself away from him.

Dustin was loud, but that was so that the quiet thoughts that kept him up at night didn’t get the best of him when he was around others.

Will…. Will. You weren’t even sure where to begin. When you had met him, he was just a shadow of himself. He had lost so much weight because of the Mind Flayer taking control of him. The second time you saw him, he was even skinnier. He told you what had happened replayed in his mind. How he hurt other people because of the Mind Flayer. It was eating him alive.

Lucas was just trying to stay brave for Max. He was trying to be something solid for her to hold onto when the memories and her home life came to haunt her.

And Mike. Mike had at one point or another lost two of the most important people in his life and was doing everything in his power to protect them and make sure nothing bad ever happened to them.

These six kids were holding on by a single thread, collectively, and were slipping. They tried to have fun with the other kids, but it was hard. The things they had gone through pushed them to grow up too fast. They weren’t actually kids anymore and your heart hurt for them.

The sounds of their footsteps brought you back from your thoughts.

“Hey Scout, you okay?” Dustin asked, sitting next to you by the fire. As soon as he came over, everyone gathered around the flickering flames.

“You know Dustin, I’m not.” Steve’s head shot up to look at you, confused. “Hey, why don’t we all scoot a little closer together, you know, the trees have ears, and I don’t think the trees should hear what we are gonna talk about.”

The rest of the party, Steve included, scooted together.

You started telling your story, and once El and Max realized what was happening, they were on each of your sides holding your hands, Dustin was practically sitting on Steve, although he would never admit it. Mike was next to El, and Lucas next to Max.

“Alright, so you guys know that when I moved to town, I went to an all-girls school. It was great and I made a lot of really great friends there. One of whom got an amazing internship opportunity at Hawkins Lab, which I know you are all well acquainted with.” El squeezed your hand. You send a squeeze back and she rested her head on your shoulder. “Well, my friend found out I was interested in science and helped me apply and get the same internship. One day, when we were helping clean up after some chemical experiments, we were talking and eventually started to wander around the lab. That is when I met Eleven.” Everyone started to perk up. El didn’t like talking much about what had happened at Hawkins lab, except that Papa had done terrible things, the opening of the gate, and her sisters.

“Once I realized they were experimenting on kids, I freaked, and I helped Eleven escape.” you took a deep breath before continuing, “Nothing happened for a while and I ended up quitting. I couldn’t handle being a part of such a terrible place. I kept contact with my friend who promised to keep a lookout for other kids, but she never saw anyone after El.”

You cleared your throat, looking around to see your captive audience, eyes pleading you to continue.

“A year went by, and I continued on. School was good, I was dating a really great girl and I honestly thought it was going to last forever.” You paused for a moment. Allowing yourself to remember the last person to truly have your heart.

“You can do that?” El asked you quietly, while Mike gave El’s hand a supportive squeeze.

“Yeah El, you are allowed to date boys and girls. All of you are.” you saw Will get preoccupied with his hands and Mike blushed a little bit.

Steve smiled at you and urged you to continue.

“Anyways. That’s when I found out about Demogorgons. I had met Will and when he found out I knew about the lab and El, he mentioned something was happening and that they were back, so I went out to investigate.

I was out in the woods, by myself, I know, not the best idea. And I met a boy, my age. He was handsome and charming and decided to keep me company. I didn’t tell him what I was looking for but he didn’t really care. I think the Mind Flayer knew what I was looking for because after the boy and I parted ways, I came face to face with a Demo-dog.” You shuddered for a moment. It’s millions of tiny sharp teeth in your mind as it leaped on you and made contact with your hip.

“It attacked. I know you guys saw the scars on my hip earlier today. The boy hadn’t really left and was able to scar it off, hitting it with his car. He actually helped get me to the hospital. Anyways. After that, I started pushing the people I loved away, including my girlfriend. I couldn’t let her get hurt or be faced with the evils I was then aware of. After that, Billy and I ended up spending a lot of time together.” You gave Max a half-smile, and Steve practically choked on nothing.

“Billy. Billy helped you? And then you... You guys….” Steve trailed off, wide-eyed.

This time Max gave you a squeeze of the hand and returned your little smile sadly.

“Yeah. Billy and I ended up dating. He was the only one who knew what had happened. I knew he wouldn’t think I was crazy because he saw it. Hell, I thought I was crazy….” You paused again trying to get your composure back. Anytime Billy came up, so did a whole new can of horrible worms.

“Billy and I were together for a while. I would help clean him up when Neil took his anger out on him, and Billy would help calm me down when the nightmares started. Pretty soon, the nightmares never stopped, and I started seeing these dark, visions during the day. The Mind Flayer was always there. Always telling me to do these terrible things and controlled me. I ended up going to the new Hawkins Lab trying to find out what was happening to me.” You looked over to Will, who was staring at you wide-eyed. He hadn’t known you had gone through something like he had.

“It got worse once I was back at Hawkins Lab. One time, I found myself waking up in this dark, cold tunnel that connected to the lab. I could hear the Demo-dogs in other tunnels, so I ran. They eventually caught up to me, and one of them got a good bite out of my ribcage. Then they were called away, and I somehow made it to a hospital. I think I had called Billy.

After that night, Billy said I was just looking for all this trouble, and started saying I was insane and pretty soon, we weren’t taking care of each other anymore. He was causing twice the amount of pain, and I was left to pick up the pieces. I uh, was finally able to get out of being with him when I found him kissing someone else. But, that was just a few weeks ago, and he left me with something to remember him by.”

You held out your arm, pulling up your sleeve to show deep scratches on the inside of your arm near your bicep.

“I don’t really sleep at night. When I do, it is filled with either nightmares of the upside-down, or nightmares of Billy.”

You put your arm around Max, who had started crying. After she calmed down a little, she began telling you guys about what was happening at home.

“Neil isn’t letting him leave for another month out of punishment,” she said wiping her eyes, “ and Billy has started taking it out on me, worse than before. Um..” Max started sniffing more and let out a sob, “Billy hit me before we left to come here.”

Max broke down.

You cried with her.

Will spoke up, sniffing, “The Mind Flayer is always in my dreams. I have a notebook full of what happens in them. I keep trying to get it out of my mind, but I don’t think I will ever be able to escape.” While Max was talking, Will had moved to sit next to Mike, who was now holding both of his best friends.

Next, Mike openly wept about how hard it was losing Will and El. And that even though he and El weren’t really ‘together’ together, that they would always be best friends.

After Dustin and Lucas tried to muscle through talking about their own problems they faced because of the events that had taken place, Steve finally spoke up.

“Um… I don’t really sleep either.” He said, adjusting the arm he had around Dustin, who had finally broken down and was shaking slightly. “If I do, all I dream of is what happened at the junkyard, except, in my dreams, the Demo-dogs get you all. I can’t protect you guys. In my dreams, I’m useless, watching from the sidelines as they tear everyone apart.” Steve visibly shudders, images playing behind his eyes.

“I have a nail bat in my car, and one under my bed at all times. I never feel safe. I always feel like danger is around the corner.” He swallowed loudly, and let tears slide down his face. He closed his eyes for a minute and focused on his breathing.

“Guys, I am afraid to leave. I’m afraid that if I leave Hawkins to go to College that I won’t be able to protect you guys anymore. I know you have each other, and Joyce and Hopper, but I feel this responsibility for you guys. I just… I can’t let anything happen again.”

Once Steve finished, everyone sat, staring at the fire. Max and El were whispering to you quietly, and Mike and Will were holding each other when Will spoke up.

“Hey guys, I uh, I actually feel a lot better, having talked about this..”

“I do too,” Dustin said, and the others nodded in agreement.

“Okay then Y'all, I suggest a pact.” You said turning to look at everyone, “That if we ever need to talk to someone, we can 100% go to each other. Are we all in agreement?” you asked.

Once everyone agreed, you pulled those around you closer and motioned for the others to come too.

“We are going to hug this out now, no objections” and without a signal word of dissent, everyone came in close, hugging each other tightly.

After that Steve was able to find lighter things to talk about before everyone went to bed.

“Hey actually, you guys, I don’t know about you, but these stars are amazing. I think we should all sleep outside tonight.” He looked at you, a soft smile on his lips, and wisdom in his eyes. He sure knew these kids and knew they would all need to be close to each other.

They were all so excited that they ran to get into their pj’s and grab their sleeping bags. There was a little field right next to your area that you all set up in. After whispering together for a few minutes, the kids declared that they wanted to be in a little circle with their sleeping bags. They all set theirs out quickly, leaving only two spots open next to each other for you and Steve.

Once everyone was in their bags, you went around to each of them giving them a big hug, and telling each one how proud you were of them for being brave enough to share what was going on with them. You finished with the kids and suddenly realized it was just Steve left, who was wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You smiled and embraced him in a warm hug, which lasted much longer than any of the other hugs, except for maybe Max and El, who kept you there much longer than any of the boys had.

You could feel yourself relaxing as Steve held you, and you felt a rogue tear slip out. You shifted slightly so that your face was in the crook of Steve’s neck, instead of being buried in his chest.

“Hey Steve?” you said quietly.

“Hmm” he breathed out, pulling you closer to him.

“Thank you.” You tighten your grip on him, “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for you talking to me earlier.”

Steve pulled away slightly so he could look at you.

“Well, that and some kids falling into poison ivy,” he said smiling, “It seems everything has worked out as it ought to.”

You nodded, tearing your eyes away from Steve’s to look over at the now sleeping kids. “Steve, their so young. Why did this have to happen to them?”

“I don’t know, Stella. I honestly don’t. But, I doubt any other group of kids would have been able to handle it like they have. Also…” Steve turned back to look at you, grabbing your hands. He closed his eyes for a moment as he continued, “I can’t believe what Billy did to you, and to Max. It just… It makes me so mad!” His voice started to rise in volume as he began to feel a whole new anger towards the town’s resident bad boy.

“Shhh, it’s okay... I mean, it’s not, but it’s already happened. What we need to do is make sure Billy never touches Max again. She doesn’t deserve this.” you shook your head slightly, wanting to protect the girl from what happened to you.

“Um… Stella, can I see…” he nodded to where the scratch marks are on your arm. You gave him a slight nod and held your arm out. Steve carefully shifted your sleeve up. He delicately touched the four, still angry and red marks. You closed your eyes at his touch.

Ever since Billy had gotten his hands on you, you forget what it was like to be touched softly, to be truly cared for.

You and Steve stayed up talking a while longer in your respective sleeping bags, eventually drifting off mid-conversation.

Steve was awake a little longer and watched as you peacefully surrendered to sleep. Amazed at the selflessness you possessed. He knew you weren’t ready to talk, and yet, for the sake of those amazing kids, you opened up all the wounds you had been trying to hide, including ones that you didn’t necessarily have too, but did for the sake of Max.

When Steve finally fell asleep, it was with a smile on his face.

The Demo-dogs didn’t attack in his dreams that night.

Part 4

#stranger things at summer camp #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x oc #campfire therapy session #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction

[petalouda85]

Koi No Yokan, Chapter 9

There’s a lot of things in here: a new character, new information about Neerav and Ge, info about the Genian Jedi Order, and some cute moments between Paro and Ben. You ship them yet? :) Deepavali will be next chapter!!!

You can also read this on AO3

When he was born, he was cursed. Doomed to die at 18 unless he joined the Dark Side. Snoke is confident but there remains one threat, it coming in the form of a prediction made by one of the Jedi Masters: Ben would meet his true love on his tenth birthday and this elusive individual would be the only one that could awaken Ben from his eternal sleep

With Deepavali tomorrow, Neerav was overwhelmed with last minute preparations that the Queen had no time to attend to and ensuring that everything else was ready to go. Everything appeared to be in order – Paro would attend a puja at the Temple, then a performance at the Akshara Theater, and later watch the lighting the lights from the royal barge on the bay. It all looked simple and straightforward but the Vizier had run into a problem: there wasn’t enough security. Yes, Paro’s personal guards would be there as well as the military but it was not enough. Adding to the problem was that majority of the soldiers would be distracted by the festivities and many were demanding higher pay in compensation for working during the festival. Not necessarily an unfair demand but it significantly increased the overall cost of the festival.

“You look ready to tear your own head off.” Gulna, the Minister of Defense, noted as she walked in.

“A fair assessment.” Neerav responded, returning his sight back to his tablet to look over the numbers once more. “Is it at all possible for you to get assign more soldiers for the festival?”

“Not likely.” Gulna answered as she grabbed a golden goblet and poured herself some wine. “The resources I have at my disposal are already stretched thin and the soldiers that are already working aren’t happy to begin with. The only way I could convince more to help would be if they were paid more.”

“That would only add to costs.” Neerav threw down his tablet and went to the window, both to calm his anger and gather his thoughts.

“Hire mercenaries.” Gulna offered.

“I don’t want that scum anywhere near the Queen. You can’t trust someone whose loyalty only lies with money.”

“You don’t need to trust them. You only need to pay them. And it’s only for one night. After that, you can kick them back onto the streets and never look them in the eye ever again.”

“Are you, by chance, speaking of the Rus mercenaries?” Neerav asked as he returned to his seat.

“I am. As mercenaries are concerned, they’re a calm bunch. Other than complaints of their existence, I’ve had zero reports of incidents from them.”

“That makes them more decent than majority of the mercenaries I’ve encountered. Find the leaders and bring them here; I want to speak with them. Confiscate any weaponry or suspicious item you find.” Gulna nodded and, after finishing her drink, left the room to find the leaders. As he waited, the Vizier attempted to complete more of the preparations. However, he soon felt the recurring pain in his legs and his head. He reached for pain medication, which proved to be a challenging as the paralysis in his hand made it difficult to remove the lid of the container. He managed and thankfully, the pain in his legs subsided quickly. The paralysis in his hand, however, was stubborn and he had to continue his work as best he could with one hand. That he had to stop quickly too as he felt the paralysis on the left side of his body intensify. He knew he should go to the medbay but there was no time. The knock on the door told him Gulna was back.

“Come in.” The Vizier said.

Two men were brought in, one in his thirties and the other in his early twenties. Only the elder man gave the Vizier a nod of acknowledgement, the younger man immediately sitting down, either not noticing Neerav’s look of distaste or just not caring. Eventually, the elder man sat too but he at least waited until the Vizier gave an indicator that he was allowed to do so.

“You might be wondering why I called you here.” Neerav began, a servant entering to serve them refreshments for the length of the meeting. The Vizier was given a golden cup of wine first, then the elder mercenary but when the servant came to the younger one, the man took the decanter from the servant and began to drink from that.

Immediately, Neerav didn’t trust the younger mercenary. In addition to the abhorrent manners he had been displaying thus far, he was obviously a man who was up to no good. His tattoos were evident enough of that. On his hands alone, Neerav counted at least three, two in the palms and the third on top his left hand. Peeking underneath the edge of his dark blue jacket was the evidence of two tattoo sleeves. Furthermore, he had noted that the hands of the young mercenary were shaking slightly. Caused by drugs no doubt. He was certainly not the type of thing he’d want anywhere near Paro; he would need to place them far enough from her but close enough that they would be useful.

“It is odd for us to be called be a high-ranking man as yourself.” The elder mercenary said, his voice laced with a Rus accent.

“I have a job offer for you.” Neerav explained. “Tomorrow, there will be a festival and I find myself lacking proper security for the Queen.”

“What is payment?” The younger mercenary asked after taking a large chug of wine.

“5000 credits.”

“Per man or for the entire job?”

“Per man.” At the answer, the two mercenaries leaned closer and began whispering in their language.

“We accept but we will require our weaponry back.” The elder mercenary declared.

“They will have to be confiscated again once the job is completed” Neerav reminded the man, who nodded.” Then we have a deal. Report to Gulna early tomorrow morning. What are your names? I will tell the guards at the gate to expect you tomorrow.”

“Aleksy Czajkowski.” The elder mercenary answered and the younger one said,

“Nikolai Petrenko.”

-----

For the first time in what was probably an eternity, Ben had slept well. It was a surprising but welcome relief. It was slightly odd too as this sudden fitful sleep had come out of the blue and he had changed nothing in his usual sleeping routine. No medicine or sleep inducing activities. The only thing that had changed were his dreams. For once, they had been pleasant.

He had had two dreams the previous night. In the first dream, he was lying in the grass with his friend next to him, Paro dressed in white with a black shawl wrapped around her. It was nighttime with the sky clear and thousands of stars sparkling above them. Then a meteor shower happened and they just lay there, enjoying the sight, their hands almost touching.

The second dream was also at night but this time, they were in a boat, drifting in the bay near the palace. Countless little clay diyas floated on the water while fireworks were launched into the sky, filling the night with light. At one point, Ben looked away from the fireworks to look at his friend, whose smile was brighter than all the lights visible. She handed him a lit diya and together, they put them in the water, watching them float away to join the other lights.

He wished they had never ended; they were so beautiful, so peaceful. They were such a contrast to the nightmares he was used to. He would gladly sleep forever if it meant he see those dreams.

Eventually, he dragged himself out of bed, not that he had anything to do that morning. Paro was busy and wouldn’t be free to do anything until later in the day, which she apparently had already planned as she had told him to meet her on the rooftop in the evening. He supposed to he could spend some time with Paro’s sisters, all of whom seemed to actually like him, but he found they were with Sarika, as they usually were. The woman only needed to glare at him to get him to turn around and leave; he already knew she hated him so he’d rather avoid provoking her more.

He sought out Neelam, who was more than happy to take Ben out into the city once more. They didn’t go in a palanquin and with an entourage of guards, they went into the city, quickly stumbling into the market. Without the thick covers of the palanquin, Ben immediately noticed the people staring at him, some of them in curiosity, others in fear, others in revulsion. He wasn’t surprised though; no doubt many of them had never seen a non-Genian and there was still rampant mistrust of the outsiders thanks to what had transpired between the planet, the Empire and eventually, the Republic; Neelam had explained it all.

Under Imperial rule, Ge was a planet on which wealthy imperialists lived and used to get away from the dredges of war. Compared to the bland food, the bland colors, fear of battle and the almost constant struggle to keep planets at bay, Ge was heavenly, with its vast green forests and rich resources. The Imperials took it all; the spices, the teas, the wines, the silks, the jewelry and rarely did the Genians ever see compensation for their hard, slave-like manual labor. Tensions between the Genians and the Imperials were high but there were never any rebellion; farming tools make poor weapons against the armored Stormtroopers and their blasters and nothing could inspire the Genians to fight for their freedom.

Neelam explained that the Rebellion did spark more tension and occasional squabbles between stormtroopers and Genians occurred but full out rebellion did not happen until a child and her mother were publicly beaten without provocation by patrolling troopers.

Led by Ajit, the Genian rebels drove the Imperials from the planet. That was when the hatred towards the Republic began. During the Rebellion, Ajit had send several distress signals, almost begging for help fighting off the Imperialists but help never came. Not from the Rebellion nor the Republic. The Genians prospered over their oppressors eventually, but at a great cost of life.

Then the clypsoate was discovered. Once it became public knowledge how powerful the material was, the Republic and the Empire remnants flocked to the planet, wanting to get their greedy hands on the material, knowing that the one that controlled it could change the power balance in the galaxy, placing the Empire back in power or lifting the Republic to the dominant power. For a time, it seemed that the Genians would give over the metal to the Republic. No one knows why the alliance between the two broke. The Republic said that Ge refused to honor the agreements made; the Genians claimed the Republic were going to use the clypsoate to rule the galaxy like the Empire did and that they had attacked neutral ships when the responses were late. Whatever it was, the Republic never received any clypsoate, the planet had been closed off and festering hatred for the outsiders had dominated politics and life on Ge ever since.

When Paro became queen, there was hope that this hatred would suspend enough that travel would be easier as well as trade but those hopes had been unfilled; it is challenging to change the mindset of an entire planet.

Neelam and Ben looked from stall to stall, only buying a few pieces of candy for the festival tomorrow. They eventually stopped by a small jewelry stand, it overflowing with bangles and earrings and naths and tikkas and necklaces.

“There is so much.” Ben gawked. “Why is there always so much jewelry?”

“Many reasons, young prince.” Neelam enthused. “Wearing the precious metals of gold and silver invoke the blessings of Laxmi. Wear jewelry and luck will always be near. Besides, they are very beauti- oh!” They couldn’t finish their sentence as a girl, perhaps eight years old, rammed into Neelam. “Hello, little one.” The girl, who was obviously not Genian, began to say something in an unknown languages, probably apologizing. She looked scared.

“Yelena!” A voice called and a man in his twenties, dressed entirely in black with the exception of a dark blue jacket and tattoos on his hands, ran up and addressed Neelam. “Forgive us; she has tendency to run off.”

“No harm done, good sir!” Neelam assured, smiling warmly at the child, who had taken the man’s hand and was hiding behind him slightly while glancing at the pile of jewelry next to them. “She was just excited to see the beauty here and I was just a little too close.” The man smiled at Neelam in response and he said something to the child. She smiled back and then promptly returned to the jewelry, admiring all of it.

Ben continued to look to, thinking about giving another one to Paro, as she really liked the other one he gave. In his peripheral, he saw the girl grab a plain silver bracelet. She spoke excitedly to the man, likely asking if she could get it; judging by their clothing, such luxuries were rare treats.

“How much is this?” The man asked the merchant at the stall.

“200 credits.” He sneered. At the answer, the man’s face immediately deflated, reaching into his pocket to grab a small pile of credits; something told Ben that that was all the man had left.

“Would you accept 120?” The man asked.

“No. 200 or nothing.” The merchant reached forward and snatched the bracelet from the child’s hand. She gasped and looked on the verge of tears but remained silent.

The man obviously wanted to say something, even looked ready to attack the merchant. Instead, he knelt down and began to speak softly to Yelena.

“Here.” Neelam said as they handed 200 credits to the merchant, who reluctantly gave them the bracelet, muttering something in Genian. “That is not nice to say. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Neelam scolded before they turned towards Yelena and the man. They held out the bracelet to the girl. “Here you go.”

The man and the child stared at the bracelet, unsure of how to react to such a kindness. The girl moved first, taking the item from Neelam. She muttered in her language, possibly a thank you, while the man continued to look at the bracelet in awe, his disbelief so potent that Ben didn’t even need to look into his mind to feel it.

“Here.” The man said suddenly, hurriedly reaching into his pocket to retrieve his own credits. He tried to hand the pile to Neelam, who closed the man’s fist and pushed it back towards him.

“It is a gift, sir.” They said kindly.

“Nobody ever gives anything for free.” The man said. Most people would interpret his tone as accusatory, maybe even as a sign he was insulted at the thought of being a given something because he couldn’t afford it on his own but Ben didn’t interpret it as that. Again, it was disbelief; he wondered what the man had seen and done to make him adopt such a view.

“I do. And if you try to give me money again, I will slap you.” Neelam responded. That made the man smile a little. Once again, he tried to protest, but when Yelena put on the bracelet and he caught sight of her smile, Ben sensed a change within the man.

“Thank you.” The man said to Neelam. “I will never forget this.”

With an acknowledgement, Neelam said goodbye to the man and Yelena, the child waving at them once more before they disappeared from sight.

The two quickly became bored of the market as it got even busier. Thankfully, Neelam was extremely knowledgeable of the city and took him to sites that Ben hadn’t been able to see in his previous visit to the city. The last place they went to was the Temple of the Order of Santulan, or the Temple of Ge’s Jedi Order.

Ben immediately felt the Force in the Temple when he stepped in but everything was just as different as the rest of the planet had been. Other than the different architecture, Ben saw immediate differences in uniform. While the Padawans and Jedis at the Temple wore mostly browns and whites, the Genian Jedi wore robes of a reddish orange or a deep red, their equivalent of a Padawan in the former color and their Jedi Knights in the latter. And, instead of the infamous Padawan braid, the Genian Padawans would shave all their hair once their training had initiated, never to allow it to grow until they had finished it.

Ben also caught sight of their method of meditating. While his order would typically meditate by sitting down cross-legged, the Genians meditated through movement, the moves coordinated, smooth and in time with their breathing. As explained by a practitioner who had noticed him watching, this method could also be utilized in combat as defense. The practitioner, whose name was Kiran, joined Neelam and Ben, answering questions and showing more of the Temple.

The Order’s beliefs reminded Ben of stories of the Gray Jedi, mainly in the fact that the Genians practiced both from the Sith ideology and the Jedi ideology. The ultimate goal was to achieve a perfect balance between the Light and the Dark, to become a Bendu. Much like the Jedi, they learned combat with the lightsabers but that training was a mixture of offense and defense. IN addition, they learned many forms of martial arts to aid their path to balance. In their lore, there was a Bendu so powerful and balanced that they could engage in combat with a host of opponents, without weapons, with their eyes closed, and still emerge victorious; many of the practitioners wanted to achieve such balance in the Force that the Force could act as their eyes.

Kiran continued to speak but eventually, Ben couldn’t hear anymore. A voice sounded through his mind, a voice he didn’t recognize. However, he knew it wasn’t the dark voice he often heard in his nightmares. This voice was filled with wisdom and kindness.

“Trust the Force. It will guide you. The path is long and uncertain but all shall be as it should. The Force will prevail.” It continued by saying, “with every temptation, there will be a way of escape.” And then silence.

From there on, the time flew by at the Temple as Kiran showed him more of the many places within it and even allowed him to meditate and spar with the other Padawans. According to them, he had much to learn. He wasn’t used to their style of fighting, which he discerned to have come from Jar’kai, and when he attempted their method of meditation, he found himself picking up the movements quickly but having trouble connecting to the Force through it. He wasn’t too upset about any of it though as Kiran and the other Padawans were all supportive and made sure his experience was enjoyable.

They left the temple after Ben received a message from Paro, where she asked to meet her on the rooftop of the palace in an hour. That same hour went by slowly as Ben’s excitement made him check the time often.

Finally, with five minutes to the hour, Ben headed towards the meeting spot. Emerging from the broad staircase, he was greeted by an astonishing view, it taking his breath for a moment. He could see everything, the city, the forest, the mountains, everything. During his visit, he had been shown many wondrous sights but this put them all to shame. He headed to the spot where he could see the city best, spotting that everything was now much quieter compared to a few hours ago. He then went to the spot that held the best view of the forest, which seemed endless from this vantage point.

“Quite a view, isn’t it?” He turned around and saw his friend by the staircase, a wave of her handmaidens coming up and moving to a spot to the right, some carrying bowls, others a large round tray, and a few more carrying a carpet. He looked back over the far expanse of the forest.

“It’s breathtaking.” He said softly. But when he looked, he saw something. In the distance was a large plume of black smoke.

“And just as fast, you discover the one thing that ruins the appearance.” Paro said softly as she joined him, looking at the black smoke.

“What is that?”

“That is the smoke of a clypsoate mine.” Paro explained.

“So that is the source of the metal that everyone in galaxy wants.” There was no turning back now.

“Indeed.”

“This will probably sound stupid but why is that stuff so special?” It was a genuine question. He had heard of the material and he knew it was valuable but why it was so valuable, he had no idea. Neither the Chancellor nor his mother had told him and everyone else was in the same situation as him. He wanted to know before he made his decision.

“Turn on your lightsaber.” She said, moving towards one of her guards and saying something to him in Genian. As Ben pulled forth his saber and turned it on, the guard unsheathed his sword and handed it to his queen.

“The primary weapon of a royal’s guard.” She explained, showing the curved blade to her friend. “The blade is made entirely from clypsoate. Swing your lightsaber against it.”

“Won’t it break?” Ben protested. Paro took the sword by the handle and pointed the blade towards him. He swung but, instead of searing the metal in half, the lightsaber was blocked by the blade as if it were a lightsaber itself. “How?” Ben sputtered in disbelief as the weapons were put away.

“Clypsoate has the ability to absorb energy almost 200 times more effectively than durasteel.” She explained. “A star destroyer made entirely of it could easily withstand 20 simultaneous blasts from ventral cannons and continue its way without as much as a scratch. Powerful and yet, dangerous. In the wrong hands, this material could cause immense damage.” She sat down upon the carpet that her handmaidens had laid down. As Ben joined her, she continued to speak. “The Chancellor wants it. I know she does but she will never get it.”

“Why not?”

“Ben,” She began slowly, “the only person I trust with this material is myself; how can anyone expect me to trust strangers with it? If I’m the only one controlling it, I know where it goes, I know how it’s being used. But if I give it to the Senate or anyone else, they can use it to make weapons, ships with which to start more wars and perhaps, create a more formidable foe than the Empire. I know my own goals and desires and ruling the galaxy is not one of them.”

“So is that why the shield is there? To stop people from taking it?”

“Among other reasons.” Was the only thing Paro responded with, her expression more than enough to tell him she didn’t want to speak about the topic anymore. Perfectly timed, another topic presented itself as another handmaiden arrived with a few more golden bowls.

“What is all this?” Ben asked, examining each bowl that lay before him. They were all filled with food but he recognized none of it.

“Supper." Paro answered. “Neelam told me you haven’t had a chance yet to try a wide range of food yet so I decided to make some.”

“You made this?” Ben asked as Paro took a smaller, empty bowl and scooped some food into from one of the larger bowls.

“You sound surprised that I know how to cook.” She said with a smile, giving the bowl to her friend once a sufficient amount was there.

“It’s not exactly something you’d expect from a Queen.”

“True but I get a sense of normalcy when I cook; it’s something so many people do.” They exchanged smiles and Ben looked down at the food. It looked delicious, it smelled delicious too and his mouth began to water.

“What is this?”

“Aloo Gobi Masala. It’s potatoes and cauliflower.” Paro responded as Ben took a small piece of the food and put it in his mouth. It was delicious but its savory taste lasted for five seconds before the spice began to burn his mouth. He could feel his nose start to run once he swallowed and grabbed the cup that Paro was holding out for him. He took a long drink of the soothing liquid, his eyes wet. “You could have warned me that it was spicy!”

“Sorry.” Paro said sheepishly, filling up his cup once it was empty. “I eat it so often that I forget it’s spicy for others.”

After that, supper continued without much trouble, though Ben constantly needed to refill his drink. The food was delicious and he enjoyed it, even if the spice tortured his mouth. They talked, avoiding topics of politics, neither wanting to dampen the atmosphere of the dinner. Perhaps that was a good thing. Then Ben wouldn’t have to reveal the chip he had been carrying since he arrived on the planet.

The Chancellor’s chip had been hiding in the inside of his sleeve, it small enough that it could easily fit into a sewn in slot. But now that he knew what clypsoate was and what it could do, the small chip suddenly felt heavy.

He had made his decision: he would not give the chip to Paro. A material like that didn’t belong with the Republic and neither should it be controlled by them; it belonged here, on Ge, under the control of someone who could control their urges and had no desire for galactic dominance.

The decision seemed absolute and certain but come nighttime, that decision prevented sleep. He didn’t regret his decision and even if he did, the chip now lay snapped in half in the garbage chute. However, what kept him awake were the thoughts of the consequences of his decision. The galaxy would be safer but he had taken away the last thing that could broker a peace between Ge and the Republic. Now there would never be peace between those two powers and negotiations would continue and nothing would ever come of it. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

Eventually, his raging thoughts became too much and he rose from his bed. He wandered until he reached Paro’s private garden, knowing that he would be alone and that he would get an amazing few of the night sky. He sat down on a bench and looked up. The sky was clear and there were no ships in sight, inside or outside the shield. Even the force field was invisible, it making him think of the night sky back at the Temple.

“Can’t sleep either?” He looked at the source of the voice and saw Paro.

“I rarely have a night where I can sleep. You?”

“Same. It’s gotten better but being queen means that sleep will elude you. There is always so much on your shoulders.”

“Don’t remind me.” Ben said with a light chuckle. “Everyone is expecting me to take over ruling Alderaan one day and I have no idea how to do any of it.”

“Neither did I.” Paro reminded him. “But I turned out alright.” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You would make a good ruler.” After a moment of silence, she said, “come on. I want to show you something.”

After wrapping the black shawl she had been carrying over her head and shoulders, she took his hand and led him away from the garden. For some reason, he anticipated they would be going to the roof, considering there would a good view too and just as peaceful but she led him out towards an open field behind the palace. From there, they went up a hill, stopping at the top, before them laying a field of flowers and the forests and the mountain in the distance.

“This is one of my favorite spots.” Paro sat as she sat down, Ben following her. “If I ever want to be out of the palace or if I’m feeling stressed, I usually come here. There’s something so tranquil about it.”

“There is.” Ben said softly, feeling a sense of calm washing over him as he looked out over the scene.

“Watch this.” Paro grabbed a small stone that lay near and she tossed it into the field of flowers. When it landed, thousands of fireflies flew up, their little lights illuminating the flowers and the surrounding areas. Ben let out a laugh of awe.

“Amazing.” It was magical and the smile on his friend’s face made him happier than he had been for a while. Looking at her, he noticed something, it taking away his smile. There, on Paro’s forehead by her hairline, was a scar. It was small and one would have to squint slightly to see it but it was prominent enough for Ben to figure out that the cut had been deep and had no doubt bleed a lot at the time. He couldn’t recall if he had ever seen it, though he thought he would’ve remembered if he had. He wondered how she got it, his mind instantly drifting to a single reason.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Paro said, looking down at the grass, her smile now gone, “I didn’t get this from my father or anyone in my family.” She reached up and touched the scar, almost cautiously.

“Then how did you get it?” For a long time, Paro said nothing, uncertain how to start.

“Did Neelam tell you about what started the rebellion against the Empire?” She said and continued once Ben had answered yes, “The child and the mother that were attacked... that was me and my mother.”

“That was you?” Paro nodded.

“My mother said that I bumped my head when the attack happened and it must have hit a sharp stone.” She fell silent, tears slowly falling from her eyes. “I always hid it. Not out of shame or because I think it is ugly. My mother… she couldn’t bear to look at it. That attack… it destroyed my mother and I didn’t want to remind her of what had happened to us. I don’t think it worked as I could always feel her fear but I convinced myself it could have been worse if I showed her my scar.” Then she finally led out a sob, pulling up her knees and sobbing into them.

Ben immediately shuffled closer and with only a brief moment of hesitation, he embraced her, allowing her to cry into his shoulder, feeling the grief within her about her mother. He had no idea what she had been like, what she looked like, he didn’t even know her name but it was obvious Paro had loved her deeply.

“What was your mother’s name?” Ben asked.

“Shailaya.” Paro answered, her voice a little hoarse from her tears. “But everyone called her Shai.”

“It’s a beautiful name. Tell me about her.”

Paro gladly told him about her, the many happy memories she recounted to him removing her grief. With each story she told, Ben grew a little more upset that he never had a chance to meet Shai. From the stories recounted, she sounded like a devoted mother, a loving wife, serious but still playful, much like Paro.

Eventually, they lay down in the grass, switching between looking at the sky and looking at each other while Paro continued to regale him with stories about her family, the stories now including stories of her father and siblings. They laughed a lot, especially at the stories of pranks Paro and her sisters had committed against their cousins; it was quite the contrast at where Paro had been only minutes ago.

After a time, the stories fell silent and they continued to gaze up at the sky, watching as meteorites created lines of light above them.

“Ben?”

“Hm?” Ben responded. Paro looked at him and for a moment, Ben thought he felt her hand brush against his, though he dismissed it as his imagination.

“Thank you.”

#kylux #huxlo #ben solo #oc #sleeping beauty au #koi no yokan #my writing

[silentauroriamthereal]

Fics I’ve written since Sherlock series 4 aired:

In light of it being Sherlock positivity day, and also because I need to update my Guide to (My) Fics page anyway, I thought I’d make a post. I understand how hard series 4 rocked our fandom and how a lot of people felt the need to stop reading fic or found themselves unable to read ir or create it. That’s totally fine, I get that. But my (self-appointed) duty in this fandom has always been to fix: fix Reichenbach, fix series 3, and I’ve been continuing along those lines with series 4. Here are the fics I’ve written since series 4 began to air: 

1. These Four Walls Posted: January 3rd, 2017 POV: John Pairing/rating: Gen (background pairing of John/Mary, hints of John/Sherlock), mature Length: 1,590 words Summary/notes: Written after The Six Thatchers aired, this little story is just a look into what John must have been thinking during the episode. Just as after series 3, my fixing had to start with John, whose behaviour I found incredibly problematic throughout this series. This is just a little look at his frustrations and feeling of entrapment during TST

2. Exile Posted: January 4th, 2017 POV: Sherlock Pairing/rating: Gen (background pairing of John/Mary, hints of Sherlock/John), mature Length: 4,247 words Summary/notes: Also written after The Six Thatchers aired, this story goes with These Four Walls. It’s Sherlock, after John has pushed him away following Mary’s death, descending into a pit of despair as he contemplates having failed John and thereby losing him forever.

3. Where My Demons Hide Posted: January 10th, 2017 POV: John Pairing/rating: John/Sherlock, explicit Length: 13,825 words Summary/notes: Written after The Lying Detective, this is the first story I wrote wherein John apologises to Sherlock for his behaviour during that episode, specifically for the hospital beating. This story also shows John going back to Ella and trying to work through his feelings regarding Mary’s death, his own drinking, what to do about his child, and Sherlock.

4. A Satellite Out of Orbit Posted: January 15th, 2017 POV: Ella Pairing/rating: Sherlock/John, mature Length: 6,512 words Summary/notes: Also written after The Lying Detective, this story is a companion story to Where My Demons Hide. Told from Ella’s POV, it shows her meetings with Sherlock as he descends into drug use and despair over John, and his obsession with Culverton Smith. However, it bridges the first story and shows Sherlock and John coming in together afterward, too. I had such fun writing Ella in this little series!

5. Now That the Dust has Settled (We Can See the Stars) Posted: January 13th, 2017 POV: Sherlock Pairing/rating: Sherlock/John, mature Length: 4,352 words Summary/notes: Yes, so I wrote this one before A Satellite Out of Orbit, but I wanted to post those two together! This is the second of the three stories I wrote between TST and TLD! I had no idea what was going to happen in TFP, but I wanted to write something that was vague enough to gloss over those events and show a potentially happy outcome for Sherlock and John anyway, just to give us all a smattering of hope for the future despite our dread of TFP. We all thought that either Mycroft or Rosie might die in TFP, so I left out any reference to either one of them completely in this! It was written deliberately aiming to still function regardless of what happened in TFP, and I kind of think it still does, if you don’t ask too many questions about Rosie’s location, lol.

6. A Case for Domestic Propinquity Posted: January 29th, 2017 Pairing/rating: Sherlock/John, explicit POV: Sherlock Length: 32,370 words Summary/notes: My first post-series 4 fix-it! After His Last Vow aired, I sat around trying to digest it for about an hour, and then I buckled down and started writing Deductions of a Lesser Mind, which is a John POV, and I then posted the following day. But The Final Problem left me feeling so flat I wasn’t ever sure I’d want to write again.But I did. It took me a few days to get going, but this story is my first of what I can only assume will be MANY attempts to fill in the holes and fix the wrongs of series 4. This story focuses primarily on the after-effects and damages of series 4, rather than trying to unravel the mysteries of the events themselves. It focuses on getting Sherlock and John together at last, what to do about Rosie, how Sherlock’s family is doing after everything went down, etc. It opens with Sherlock and John repairing Baker Street and with it, their friendship. It also contains one of my favourite first kisses. 

7. Hell Hath No Fury Posted: March 4-6, 2017 Pairing/rating: John/Sherlock, explicit POV: Vee Holmes (Mummy) and John Length: 53,170 words, 3 chapters Summary/notes: If A Case for Domestic Propinquity was about mainly getting Sherlock and John together, this story was meant to go back to the series and dig into some of the inexplicable events therein. Divided between Vee Holmes (Mummy)’s and John’s perspectives, it’s almost a dual story that eventually joins. Vee’s parts look specifically at the Holmes family history: what, exactly, happened to Sherlock as a child, who or what Victor Trevor was, how the memory drug TD-12 is related to all of that, Uncle Rudy’s role in it all, and how all of that effects the current situation. John’s story looks at he and Sherlock cautiously rebuilding their domestic life together, all the while feeling as though they’re being watched. They are, and while working on a string of kidnappings around London, Rosie is also taken – by someone who is not as dead as she should be. It’s a complex, complicated plot, and devastating in places. Some parts of it hurt to write. Nevertheless, it ends as it should.

I wrote this story for my friend @totallysilvergirl, one of the absolute rocks and mainstays of my life.

8. From the Bottom of the Well Posted: May 7th, 2017 Pairing/rating: John/Sherlock, explicit POV: John Length: 36,079 words Summary/notes: My next point to tick off on my list of things to address regarding series 4 was the straightwashing of Sherlock Holmes via Irene Adler, and the imagery of John Watson being chained to the bottom of a well was just too perfect to resist. This is the leitmotif of the story, with John suffering recurring nightmares about being in the well again, all the while feeling the parallel keenly as he watches Irene Adler re-enter their lives and attempt to seduce Sherlock beneath his very nose. This is a story about John Watson learning to break his own chains at last.

9. Bridging the Ravine Posted: June 11-13, 2017 Pairing/rating: Sherlock/John, explicit POV: Sherlock Length: 58,931 words (3 chapters) Summary/notes: After all the previous fixing, I wanted to take a little break. I’ve never deliberately written a known trope before, but this one time I thought I would indulge, and wrote a going-undercover-as-a-couple story. In this story, Lestrade gets Sherlock and John to go undercover at a retreat centre that offers relationship counselling for same-sex male couples. My newest kink since series 4 aired has been to get these two some therapy, so this was a lot of fun! I loved creating the retreat centre, Ravine Valley, and I loved making these two finally talk! Honestly, I can’t think of the last time I enjoyed writing a story as much as this one! Between the spa services, the five-star chef’s menu, the physical setting, etc, it was just a nice world to be immersed in. Plus, I wrote a record number of original characters for it! I was really pleased that people liked them so much, too! There were, in total, 21 OC’s in this story, about 14 of which were fairly important to the plot! Fun times. I particularly adored writing the first kiss in this one, too! I’m currently writing a sequel to this.

So there you have it! It’s been rather difficult to be a fan of BBC Sherlock since series 4 aired, but we’re still here, we’re still writing and creating and meta-ing and talking and that’s a beautiful thing! <33333333333333333333333

#sherlock #sherlock positivity #sherlock fic #series 4 fix-its #silentauror #johnlock

[floral-moon-light]

The Fight To Keep Going-Prolog And Chapter 1

           The multiverse is an expansive place filled with worlds upon worlds upon worlds. Constantly gaining new worlds thanks to its ever-inspired creator. But on the other side of this ever expansion in worlds is the half working to keep the multiverse in balance through the annihilation of worlds that have no true purpose or are just plain weird. A thank less job that no one sees just how important it is to keep the multiverse alive. One that the multiverse knew was important the day it brought the creator into being so it took one of the creators earliest long forgotten (not counting the first worlds the multiverse created themselves) worlds and took the sans from the world and threw them into the Anti-void before destroying the world. Time passed differently in the Anti-void as the multiverse It’s self, with what remained of their power from creating the first few worlds and their creator, set about changing the unconscious sans into what they needed to keep the balance.

           In the end, they didn’t know the full extent of what they had done to their destroyer and they didn’t have enough power to release the destroyer from the Anti-void. So, he was forced to remain their going insane for what could have been years trying to escape, but getting no were. As this went on the creator continued to create new worlds upon worlds. Expanding and expanding till the multiverse started to reach its limits. It was then that the Destroyer finally found his way free. Mind once again clear of the insanity that had passed through his body with panic instead traversing his system as he felt how stretched the multiverse was from the creator. Fear of the imitate collapse of the only place he knew as his home by this point lead him to act fast. Quickly the destroyer went about the multiverse destroying worlds that had no purpose to their existence and removed them to make space for more.

           This though lead to him getting on the bad side of the creator with him not having time to explain his reasons for doing this. Not that it truly mattered to the creator, all he knew was that the destroyer was terminating his creations and he didn’t like that. So, he told his creations and they didn’t like it either, or in most cases they didn’t like it either. Some have no clue that he even exists because the creator refused to pull them into the fray, but one decided to listen to the destroyer’s words and came to understand exactly how important what they were was and joined him as an ally and friend.

           No one knew through about the time bomb that had been left in the destroyer and its implications if the bomb goes off.

Chapter 1: When a Friend Begins to Worry

           The multiverse is a strange place were worlds upon world exist in a constant back and forth balance. The destroyer destroying and the creator creating. Though this balance was a constant battle back and forth between “good” and “evil” there were “calms in the storm” when neither was actively pushing to keep the balance. When both were just licking their wounds and trying to recover from days upon days strait of just doing their job. One such member of the balance was lying on the couch in a barely lit room of a castle that existed in what was now a night filled world with one of his arms over his sockets.

           Through a side door a skeleton clad in a purple tunic and ink black leggings with a golden crown with a crescent moon embedder into it as black tendrils of what seemed like shadows flowed from his back entered the room and looked over to the skeleton lying on the couch. Said skeleton had black, yellow, and red bones laden with cracks and brakes that were slowly healing wearing a plain red T-shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts with blue stripes. Close by a pair of black slippers were lying on the floor while a jacket that possessed a gradient that changed from blue to black was lying on one of the couches arm rests.

           “Hey Error,” the purple clad skeleton said to the black boned skeleton on the couch as he moved to sit on the other couch in the room “You feeling any better?”

           The black skeleton, Error, replied simply with “Go away Nightmare.”

           With a snort the skeleton clad in a purple tunic, Nightmare, adjusted himself to be lounging on the couch before saying “I guess that’s a no.”

           Error removed his arm from over his sockets as he glared over at Nightmare before saying “Shut up.”

           Nightmare gave a snort at the comment before saying “bad couple of days?”

           Error huffed in annoyance, but deciding that Nightmare wasn’t going to be quiet any more till he told him exactly what has been happening. He had been silent earlier when Error had come in completely wrecked with quite a few new bruises and scrapes to add to his list of recurring pain. That and he was limping due to his broken fibula. He even stayed quiet as Error had collapsed on one of his couches before grabbing one the first aid kits he now kept throughout his home, since this had become a fairly common occurrence since they became friends, and set about treating the major injuries with the addition of some magic to speed up the healing prosses. After that he left Error to get some rest as he went to take a shower and change so that he wasn’t covered in the gunk he was normally covered in to be more comfortable as well as to make Error more comfortable since the gunk reminded him of the paint the creator, Ink, often used in their battles.

           “I had to destroy thirty-eight AU’s just to barely keep up with Ink, and I’m still behind him by two bloody AU’s, and during the entire week long killing spree I got zero hours sleep and had five close encounters with Inky.” Error said getting a snort from Nightmare at the creator’s newest nickname “That and in addition to Ink getting me good in the last battle of the week and braking my fibula in half…” after a glare from Nightmare, Error added “again… the throbbing pain is back."

           A frown passed over Nightmare’s feature as he asked “Is it as bad as last time?”

           At this point Nightmare was fairly use to hearing Error complain about some form of pain, usually because it slowed down his “path of destruction” as Error had remarked Ink calling his work to keep the multiverse from blowing up, but as of late a different type of pain that actually wasn’t linked to any injury the two could find had started popping up. Error had said he had been felling the throbbing for a while, but he was so use to the pain that covered his body due to the battles that usually took place between him and Ink that always left the two of them injured that he hadn’t really noticed the new pain in the beginning. Even when it had initially started getting worse Error had been able to ignore the throbbing pain for a while, at least till recently. As of their last few meetings it had been getting bad. So intense that last time they had met up Error had come to Nightmare’s castle an hour before their normal meeting time and had curled up in a corner for said hour crying from how bad it was till Nightmare found him there.

           Nightmare hoped it wasn’t going to get that bad again, seeing Error like that considering that he normally only showed a bit of annoyance at any form of pain was disturbing. It didn’t help that nothing that Nightmare had done to relieve the pain seemed to help all that much.

           Nightmare was quickly pulled out or his thoughts as Error replied to the question with “If it was do you think I would have come and lied down on the couch or be talking to you right now?”

           Nightmare snorted gaining a bit of a smile at the comment as he let himself relax for the moment before replying “no, I guess not.” after a second though the frown came back over his features as he asked “but the pain is still coming back?”

           Error just let his arm cover his eyes again as he answered with a simple “yeah.”

           The two sat in silence for a few minutes seemingly just enjoying each other’s company before Error broke the silence asking “so, how are things going for you?”

           Nightmare gave a bit of a laugh at the weak attempt at restarting the conversation on a completely different subject, but relented to the subject change and replied with “oh, you know same old stuff. Distracting Ink, fighting Dream, trying not to worry about the prospect of my best friend being killed by the creator of almost every world in the multiverse.”

           “Hey!” Error said in false shock “I am not that bad! I haven’t been close to dying once!”

           “What about the time Ink bashed in your skull?” Nightmare shot back with a smirk on his face.

           Error replied back with a good bit of theatrics “It didn’t even hurt and we eventually got all the pieces back in place! It healed up perfectly fine!” in the end though Error couldn’t keep up the theatrics and ended up laughing through the last few words before Nightmare joined him.

           The two of them had long ago decided that Error’s battles with Ink by no chance would be the end of the destroyer of worlds. Ink just didn’t have the desire to kill anyone including the person that caused him so much grief. Sure Ink gave Error a few nasty injuries, most of witch Error repaid the creator with to a similar degree, but it was never any think Error couldn’t heal from. By this point it had become a bit of a running joke between the two of them to reference the nonexistent chance of Error dying to Ink.

           After a few minutes of laughter the two calmed down before Nightmare gets up asking “you want me to take care of two AUs while you rest here so your caught up?”

           A sigh escaped Error as he looked at Nightmare before he replied “Sure, might as well since I am assuming you are not going to let me get up till at least tomorrow.”

           Smiling Nightmare said “not a chance, you would somehow rebreak your leg the moment you got up. Now hand them over.”

           A snort escaped Error at the comment before he reached back into his jacket pocket and pulled out two orbs of what looked to be pure destructive magic wrapped in blue strings to keep it contained. Error had long ago figured out that there was a way to contain the last bit of destructive energy necessary to destroy an AU and had started keeping a few around for the times when he was to exhausted to draw forth the necessary energy to eliminate the last part of an AU.

           As Error lifted his hand up offering the items he asked “you remember how to use these right?”

Nightmare snorted as he took the offered destructive energy replying “drop it in the judgement hall after I’ve gotten the human’s soul and killed off all monsters in the AU and get out of there as fast as I can.”

Error gave him a bit of a glare as he said “And?”

Nightmare just rolled his eyes replying “And don’t drop them before that point or the AU has a chance of being reset.”

Error gave a nod of approval as he let his hand drop down to lay on his sternum before saying “good.”

Nightmare gave a bit of a laugh at how cautious Error was with his annihilation of worlds before asking “any specific worlds you want me to go after?”

           Error spent a minute thinking about what worlds need destruction before saying with a shrug “maybe go after a Yarntale and Gingertale.”

           A laugh escaped Nightmare at the answer as he knew exactly why Error wanted him to go after those worlds in particular and voiced his suspicion by asking “do you want me to get you some yarn and get us some chocolate cookies while I’m destroying the worlds?”

           Nightmare could only laugh as he saw stars enter Error’s eyes at the prospect of gaining some of those items and then nod very quickly. Once Nightmare regained control of himself he replies a bit out of breath “all right, I’ll get some while I’m there. Not like they are going to miss them.”

           After he turned away and Error let his head turn to look at the ceiling Nightmare stopped in his tracks as he let the gunk recover his body before saying in his now distorted voice “hey, Error.”

Error turned back to look at Nightmare cringing a little at the tar like substance that was now covering the other’s body before asking “yeah?”

Nightmare turned his head back a bit to look at Error before saying “promise me if it gets as bad as it did again you’ll call me and go see a doctor about this.”

Error twitched slightly at the prospect, Nightmare knew he hated making promises much less the prospect of going to a world to get examined were it was likely he would get attacked for what he had to do, but for Nightmare he would make an exception. “yeah, all right.”

With that Nightmare opened a portal and exited into the rest of the multiverse as Error returned his gaze to the ceiling as he thought about how he hoped that the pain never get that bad again so that he didn’t have to fulfill that promise. Not knowing that that promise was going to be enacted fairly soon.

Want to read more? Check out the rest of the story on wattpad.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/117250039-the-fight-to-keep-going

#balance #blue #creation #distruction #Doc #dream sans #error sans #fresh sans #Illness #ink sans #magic #nightmare sans #ocs #Sans #undertale #yinyang