#considering silver won’t go to bed later/wake up later or earlier it should be fine but Vern might get something handmade

[aurora-retainer-silver]

No, not at all.

[Silver answers with a shake of his head. Waiting a few moments for Koa to fully finish the spell and wait for the pause before he walks forward.]

Just uh… no brain function. Limited social battery.

Pam? Where are the um... mandrake leaves?

(Oh, uh... I think the last of them were used when you were sleeping that illness off the other day)

I'll umm.. go see about getting some extra from the alchemy lab. Remember to um... quite it down next time

(Okay! Take your lunch, too!)

*Vern nods as he leaves the infirmary. He's behind on several tasks today, so perhaps he will stop by Sam's or see if he can grab something light to go in the cafeteria. The sun is warm and welcoming today.*

*his phone rings a familiar tone. Vern's stomach drops as he takes a breath before answering*

Hello...

Hey, Sweetheart. A little birdie came back.. anything you want to tell me?

*Vern visibly pales, unable to make a sound*

Mmm... there will be a meeting tomorrow, mandatory for founders. I'll see you there.

*Vern's stomach churns, even as the call is ended. He... will need some more magic stored up. Taking an unsteady breath, he quickly types, deletes, retypes, and sends a text to Silver*

Text: "Aster... something came up and I won't be around campus tonight or tomorrow"

*it's vague, but he hopes it won't worry Silver too much... Skipping lunch, he sends a crocus back to Pam with some spare mandrake leaves, and hurries of to go pack a few things. He'll have to take Koa*

@aurora-retainer-silver

[shotsbyshae]

Colors

Hunter Steve Series Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Murder, Bloody, Little Smut-ish

Words: 2.9k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: A hunter turned vampire makes for the deadliest hunter around. What happens when an old foe decides to make their own breed of assassins?  Song: Colors by Halsey

You’re ripped apart at every edge,

but you’re a masterpiece.

Sleep.

You've always considered it the most important part of any day.

It doesn’t matter where or how outdated the motel is or if the mattress feels like a slab of concrete against your back, sleep is you time. You've always done just fine on your own, sleeping alone was never an issue.

Then you woke up one night – some shitty room outside of Denver – found yourself curled into him. One pillow was somehow supporting both of you, his arm draped across your waist lazily. He had stirred slightly with your movement and his arm tightened, pulling you closer to his chest. You had nuzzled your face against his neck as he rested his chin against the top of your scalp.

It should have felt suffocating.

But it didn’t.

It was something different – something you hadn’t felt since becoming a vampire.

Safe.

It’s in the middle of the night when they come. Finding you and Steve curled into one another – sleeping peacefully – at your most vulnerable. They are in the room before either of you are aware of it, bright LED flashlights blinding you before a there’s a sharp pain in your neck. An angry snarl rips from your chest as your fangs descend and you reach, feeling a gloved hand there with a syringe. Everything starts to go numb and you try to fight, but it’s pointless as they drag you from the bed. From the glow of the flashlights you can see Steve wide-eyed with fear and anger as five – no six – men restrain him. One of which has a syringe jabbed into the side of his neck as well.

It happens in the blink of an eye. One minute your tucked warmly against him on what you had commented earlier that night to be a not too shabby mattress. Now, you’re being thrown into a van wearing nothing but a pair of black boy shorts and one of Steve’s blue t-shirts. You try to keep your eyes open as the doors to the van slam shut, but it’s useless. Whatever they injected you with working at record speed.

The sound of the engine starting is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

12 Hours Earlier

“Wraiths?” Steve questions, standing beside you as the two of you have a faceoff with four individuals across the bar. Three men and a woman stare angrily back at you. One of the men takes a step forward, a boney spike protruding from his wrist in a menacing fashion.

“Yep,” you respond. “Wraiths alright.”

This is a milk run – Steve can handle it.

There’s only four of them.

You watch as Steve twirls the silver angel blade in his hand before he stalks towards the monsters. You smirk slightly to yourself as you hop up onto the bar, crossing one leg over the other. You lay your blade on the wooden bar beside you, leaning over to grab the bottle of bourbon nearest you.

The fighting ensues and Steve is ducking and dodging as the three men attack. The sickening sound of the blade slicing through skin fills the empty bar and you know the woman is sneaking around to your left, but you’re doing one of the things you enjoy most – watching him work.

It’s probably not healthy.

Most would assume it has something to do with your bloodlust, but that’s not it.

There’s something about the realness of it. Kill or be killed. The two of you teetering on the edge of life or death, your heart beating so hard and fast you can’t hear anything but it pounding against your ribs.

It’s raw – pure.

Steve’s a fighter – he was born for it – made that way. He’s quick on his feet and it’s almost like a well-choreographed dance the way he moves, dodging every attempt they make at stabbing him with their wrist spikes. He’s the only one left standing, chest heaving, and blood splattered. His hair falling across his face as he glances over to where you sit.

“Really? You want some popcorn?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips.

You hold the bottle of amber liquid up with your left hand, “I’m good.” Your right hand slowly gripping the handle of the blade laying at your side.

“You know –” Steve begins attempting to warn you of the woman, but stops as you move quickly, throwing your blade across and into the chest of the monster.

“I know,” the woman falls to the floor as you smirk before taking a swig from the bottle in your hand.

Steve walks across, pulling your blade from her before moving over to where you sit. He lays both weapons on the bar as you uncross your legs, stretching them out to hook around his waist.

“Is this what it’s come to now?” Steve questions, taking the bottle you offer him as you pull him closer with your legs. “You watch while I do all the work?”

“You didn’t need any help,” you comment playfully. “Besides, I like to watch.” Your fingers brush the hair from his forehead as he pulls the bottle away from his lips.

He stares at you, chest still heaving from his fight, eyes a deeper, darker blue, and you can practically feel the adrenaline surging out of him. There are blood stains spattered across the green shirt he’s wearing and up the side of his neck.

“Well, maybe next time,” his voice is low. “You work – while I watch.” He sets the bottle on the bar beside you, hands moving up your denim clad thighs. “You’re not the only one who likes it.”

He kisses you innocently enough, but after a few moments his kisses become more desperate – hungry. With one swift motion, he’s on top of you. The shattering of the bottle as the bourbon falls to the floor echoes throughout the empty room.

“Steve,” you breath against his mouth. “Really – here?”

He lifts his head, boyish glint in his eyes as he smiles down at you before glancing over at the four dead wraiths lying in the floor, “I don’t think they care.”

You shake your head with a laugh as his lips move along your neck before he nips at your pulse point. He feels your breathing falter and he nibbles a little harder, until he hears the low snarl in your chest.

“Easy with the – teeth,” your whisper turns into a hiss as he bites hard. Your fangs descend, fingers digging into his biceps. You know he did it on purpose. He enjoys riling you up.

“Says the vampire,” he pulls away with a smug smile, confirming your thoughts.

It happens so fast, Steve doesn’t even feel it until you have him pinned to the bar, straddling him. You watch the surprise on his face quickly fade into desire as his eyes travel up your body. He likes to bring this out in you – the feral creature you can be. He’s been addicted since the first time you slammed him into a wall while feeding on him.

You lean close to him, pressing your hips further down onto him – hard – throbbing almost. Your voice low and challenging as you whisper against his ear, “You started this.” You bite into his neck – thick, warm, blood filling your mouth quickly. A moan slips from him and you grind your hips against his methodically.

When his hand moves for the button on your jeans, you grab it quickly, pinning it and his other hand above his head. It elicits a small laugh from him, but you continue to roll your hips against him as you drink from him.

His voice is strangled as he tries to communicate, but you silence him with your mouth.

All tongue and teeth, copper and bourbon.

Showing your strength without fear.

He loves when you take control like this.

24 Hours Later

He had fought back when they took you, managed to capture one of the men while the others escaped. The only person who might have answers to where they’d taken you and Steve’s hell bent on getting them.

Steve’s staring down at the bloody man in the chair, he’s obviously taken quiet the beating. Steve’s right hand rests against the side of his thigh, the skin on his knuckles broken and bleeding as his pistol hangs loosely in his fingers.

“You’ve seen the last of her,” he says cryptically.

Steve stares angrily at the man in front of him, “What do you mean?”

“You heard me,” the man replies simply.

He clenches his jaw, rage coursing through him as he raises the pistol in his hand, aiming it at the man’s head, “Where the fuck is she?”

“Kill me if you want Rogers,” the man states flippantly. “Won’t change the fact she’s gone, and she isn’t coming back.” He stares at Steve for a moment before continuing. “They have her now.”

“Who’s they?”

“Hydra,” the man answers maliciously.

Confusion sweeps across his face, “What do they want with her?”

“They got word from one of their informants in another organization about a hunter who was turned. How she’s one of the best killers he’d ever seen,” the man states. “Don’t you think that would pique their interest?”

“She won't work with them,” Steve says strongly.

“They don't expect her to,” he responds raising an eyebrow. “They want to make more like her.”

The realization makes Steve nauseous and he swallows the bile rising in his throat, “Make more – how?”

With a small, sadistic laugh the man answers simply, “With her blood. How else?”

***

Steve’s able to get a general location for the facility where they’re keeping you, but he’s desperate and running out of options. So, he calls the one person he knows who might have an idea on exact locations of Hydra bases. Once he gives Barnes the information, he has coordinates dialed up and the quinjet en route to the base within minutes.

“What would Hydra want with her?” Sam questions from his seat.

Steve takes a deep breath, knowing this conversation was coming, “About that –”

***

The noise from outside the room you’re in stirs you awake. It’s not the safe, warm, comfort you feel when you wake up beside Steve. This small dark room unrecognizable. You don’t know how you came to be strapped upright to this cold, hard slab of steel, or how long there’s been a needle stuck in the vein at the bend of your elbow. The small plastic tubing full of dark red liquid as it drains your blood into a large bag below.

You try to break free of the restraints with no avail as the outside noise draws closer. Your mind races with questions – unsure who took you or why they want your blood. What the commotion is outside becomes your main concern as the doorknob across from you tries to turn. Feeling so weak in the face of possible danger isn’t something you’re used to and your heart races against your chest.

The door is forcefully kicked in and the brightness from the outside light blinds you momentarily as a dark figure approaches you. You turn your head away as the person gets closer – your fear apparent.

“It’s okay,” a familiar voice says. “It’s me – yea, I have her.”

“Buck,” you look back at the person in front of you in confusion.

“We gotta go,” he states dropping the blade in his hand to the floor before he pulls the leather cuffs from both your wrists. “Now.”

You slowly pull the needle from your arm as he jerks the restraints from your ankles. As soon as you take a step the light headedness takes over – room spinning out of control – your legs buckle.

“Shit,” Barnes says, looping his vibranium arm around your waist for support. “Come on, doll. Let’s go.”

“Steve,” you say his name questioningly as the two of you make your way out of the room.

“He’s here,” the man replies, glancing down with a small smirk.

Your bare feet hardly graze the concrete floor as Barnes moves quickly down the hall, speaking into his comm, “Heading down the south corridor. Yea – she’s lost a lot.”

“Who did this?” you manage to ask. “What’s happening?”

“Hydra,” Bucky says quickly. “They want to use your blood to make assassins like you.”

His statement sends a hundred different thoughts rushing through your mind, like how Hydra can’t just make assassins into vampires. They couldn’t control it. Does that mean Bucky knows that you’re a vampire?

A loud crash from in front of you makes Bucky stop moving and you feel him tense as pulls you behind him – shielding you from whatever is coming.

He relaxes after a moment and you hear another voice, “We have a problem.”

Sam.

You step from behind him, holding onto the cool metal arm for support. Your eyes meet Steve’s instantly and you see the relief wash over him as his pace quickens. He hands Barnes his machete as he pulls you into his chest tightly and you feel his lips press against the top of your head.

“This is great,” Sam’s voice states. “I’m glad your okay and all, but there’s like twenty hungry vampires heading this way.”

“They already started experimenting,” Bucky comments.

“You okay?” Steve’s hands are on your face as he tilts your head up to look at you.

“I’ll live,” there’s a small smile there and he kisses you gently.

“Good. We could use the back-up,” he responds with a smirk, pushing his sleeve up and offering you his wrist. “Full participation – no popcorn.”

“But,” you whisper hesitantly, eyes glancing over at Barnes and Wilson.

“It’s fine,” Steve says. “I told them.” You glance between them again before nodding and taking his hand.

“Oo – oooh fangs,” the level of disgust on Sam’s face as your fangs descend and you bite into Steve’s wrist is priceless. “Really – just like that? Ugh –” He makes a gagging noise as he turns around.

“Trust me,” Steve comments. “You’ll want her at full strength.”

Sam looks over at Barnes questioningly with his brows furrowed and the man shrugs his shoulders in response.

When the Hydra agents reach the hallway, you recognize the crazed look in their eyes. The bloodlust making them chaotic which makes them a little more dangerous.

“Be careful,” you remark to the men standing next to you, wiping the blood from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Steve gives you a small nod of understanding before the agents in front start advancing.

“Don’t you need a weapon?” Wilson glances to you suddenly aware you have nothing to fight with. The half-smile on your face is all the answer he needs. “Oh – okay.”

The fighting ensues and you keep the others in sight as they fight off the agents – all fangs and angry snarls. You slam your fist through the back of one of the men, grabbing his heart in the palm of your hand and ripping it out. His body falls limply to the floor and Sam looks from the bloody organ in your hand up to you – eyes blown wide.

“Damn,” he remarks under his breath.

The fight lasts minutes and hours at the same time, as you bite into the throat of a woman who tries to attack Barnes from behind as he’s decapitating another vamp – ripping it a chunk of her neck out with your fangs. He turns quickly, watching as you toss the woman aside, blood dripping from your mouth onto the front of Steve’s shirt.

“Thanks,” he nods, and you smile because there’s no judgement in his eyes at your ruthlessness.

When it’s over, only the four of you are left standing, all blood splattered and sweaty.

“Steve,” Sam looks over to his friend.

“Yea,” Rogers responds breathless, brushing his hair from his face.

“Remind me never to piss Twilight off,” Wilson says, and you place your hands on your hips as you narrow your eyes at him.

“We need to burn this place,” Bucky remarks, ignoring Wilson. “All your blood – it’s gotta go.”

“He’s right,” Steve says. “We need to burn it all.”

***

The fire gives the small living room a cozy feel as you settle onto the couch. You had phoned Donna about staying in her cabin – motels were off limits for a bit.

“Sam’s face,” Steve comments as he walks over to the couch.

“They seemed to handle it well though,” you remark as he sits down, and you scoot closer to his side.

“I watched you,” he says quietly. “You ripped out a woman’s throat – with your teeth.”

“She was going after Barnes,” you reply.

“I know,” Steve says, fingers lazily gliding up and down your arm. “Sometimes I forget how dangerous you can be.”

You glance up at him, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “Never be sorry for who you are.” His other hand moves to the side of your neck. “You’re dangerous, smart, and there’s no one I’d rather have by my side in, or out of, a fight.”

A smile crosses your lips and you comment, “Thanks. I did kill like ten vamps today in just a t-shirt.”

“My t-shirt,” he remarks salaciously. “Trust me – I noticed.” His lips move just below your ear, kissing you gently before he whispers. “Watching was fun.”

Later, your body jerks you awake from a nightmare. You were back in the Hydra facility and it was so cold and damp. You feel Steve’s arms tighten around you. Rolling over to face him, you see him looking at you groggily from moonlight streaming through the window.

“You okay?” he questions sleepily, and you nod with relief to see his face.

Your mouth captures his quickly for a moment before you respond, “I am now.”

Settling against him, you breath a sigh of relief.

Happy to be here with him.

Warm.

Safe.

[keeptheslnc]

WRW ‘19 Day 3: Breathless

“Weiss! I’m back!” Ruby called out, closing their door and tossing her keys into a bowl. “I have snacks!”

The sound of a cabinet closing told Ruby where to go as she skipped down the hall, poking her head through the entryway of their kitchen. Weiss was just finishing putting away plates and glasses, turning around to face Ruby once she was done.

“How was your middle school reunion?” she asked as Ruby came in and placed a bag on the counter. Ruby skirted around to place a kiss to Weiss’ lips which she happily sighed into.

“Tons of fun! It was nice seeing everyone from Patch after all this time,” Ruby responded after separating. She took her phone out to show Weiss some photos, letting her girlfriend scroll through at her own pace. “A lot of them actually moved out of the area and have been running their own businesses or starting families or just traveling. Can you believe that they thought I was lying when I said I was dating you?”

Weiss snickered as she imagined the looks of disbelief on Ruby’s old classmates’ faces. “It must’ve been very satisfying when you proved them wrong.”

“You’re dang right it was! I showed them a picture of us when we were visiting with Blake in Menagerie and they wouldn’t stop pestering me about you after that!” Ruby’s mind wandered back to the summer of last year when they spent a week on the tropical island. Weiss and heat did not pair well together, so she was always overheating and required many ice treats throughout their stay. She also wore skin-revealing clothing for the majority of their outdoor activities. Ruby hadn’t complained one bit about that.

Weiss broke her trip down memory lane by poking around the plastic bag she’d plopped between them. “You said you brought snacks?”

“Oh! Yeah! One of my friends is a baker and she brought a few things to share,” Ruby explained excitedly, pulling out some takeout boxes. “I didn’t have a chance to taste them yet. I was in a rush and sort of shoved them all into these. We should visit her in Vale next time!”

Ruby opened all the boxes and each had small portions of pastries, pies, and cakes crammed together. Weiss couldn’t really tell what was what, so she had to trust Ruby’s guidance as her girlfriend reached out for a fork, which Weiss easily handed to her. If only her cake butler were around to help.

“Are you really going to try them all now? It’s nearly eleven at night,” Weiss pointed out. She leaned an elbow on the counter, her chin resting in her palm, as she watched Ruby’s eyes dart between pastries and pies. “You’re already so full of sugar, anyway.”

“How else do you think I’m so sweet?” Ruby teased with her tongue sticking out. “It’s what charmed you in the first place.”

“I’ll think of a comeback to that later,” Weiss said with a roll of her eyes and a small smile. She then flicked Ruby’s forehead. “Don’t have too much. I won’t be able to sleep if you’re just vibrating from all the energy.”

The brunette wasn’t hurt in the slightest by the attack and just stuck her fork into the first chocolate-like item she saw. Once in her mouth, she instantly gushed about how delicious it was. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” she asked as she took a chunk of a pie. Ruby held it out in front of Weiss’ face, carefully waving the treat up and down.

Weiss was prepared to decline, but the puppy-dog eyes that Ruby was blinking at her almost instantly broke her will. Her grinning girlfriend knew all of her weaknesses and her silver eyes was one of them. She sighed in defeat. “After all this time, I’m still unable to not follow your ridiculous plans.”

“They always work, that’s why!” Ruby said triumphantly. She let Weiss take the bite off of her fork before going back for the rest of the pie. It took a few chews to recognize the taste of apple. “I wonder if she has anything seasonal at her shop right now. It’s almost fall!”

“Yes, everything will be pumpkin-flavored, I’m sure,” Weiss responded before clearing her throat, suddenly finding it itchy. She absentmindedly started to scratch the side of her neck. “Well, as soon as you’re done sampling, make sure you put them away properly. The last thing I’d want to wake up to is mice running on the counters. Again.”

Ruby chuckled sheepishly. She nodded as she bit into a cookie next. “You got it!”

Weiss smiled before walking around the counter to Ruby’s side, brushing some stray crumbs from around her mouth before kissing her. “Then I’m getting ready for bed. See you upstairs soon, I hope.”

Ruby watched with a dopey grin as Weiss walked out the kitchen and towards the stairs. She had only a couple more pastry pieces before she made true to her promise of packing up the boxes and then stacking them in the fridge for tomorrow. A few minutes later, as she was turning off the kitchen light, she heard a thud from upstairs.

“Weiss? What was that?” Ruby called out, nervousness settling in her stomach. “Are you ok?” When she didn’t hear an immediate response, she bolted up the stairs and into their bedroom, finding Weiss collapsed on her side on the floor. Her hair splayed out like spilled moonlight with a complexion to match as she weakly reached out for Ruby.

“Weiss!”

Ruby practically teleported to her girlfriend’s side, cradling her in her lap as she tried to stay calm. Weiss was heaving for breath, each one clipped and short, coming out in painful-sounding wheezes. Her eyes were open wide in fear as she focused on Ruby hovering above her with an equally-as-scared expression.

“W-Weiss, what’s happening? W-W-What do I--?” Ruby was nearly in tears at seeing her suffer. She was panicking.

Weiss lifted a shaky hand to her own throat, trying to tell Ruby what was wrong. A breathless word came from her mouth and she choked.

In an instant, Ruby knew what was wrong and how it happened.

Apples.

Weiss was allergic to apples. How could Ruby forget? A wave of intense guilt washed over her for not checking what kind of pastries she’d brought home. Even a small amount of the fruit would be enough to send Weiss into a state of shock and Ruby was the one who gave it to her.

Another choking gasp from her lap brought Ruby out of her self-scolding as she remembered what to do. Gently lying Weiss down on the floor as quickly as she could, she jumped over to their nightstand and tugged open the drawer. Thankfully, Weiss was a very organized person and Ruby found exactly what she needed in less than a second: an epinephrine injection.

Flying back to Weiss’ side, Ruby readied the pen, pulling the top cap off and falling to her knees, one on each side of Weiss’ legs. She grasped the pen firmly in her hand and, without hesitation, stabbed it into Weiss’ thigh. If her girlfriend felt the needle, then she didn’t show it, which relieved Ruby by a fraction as she counted to three in her head. She removed the pen and then tossed it to the side with one hand while the other gently massaged the area she just stabbed.

Weiss let out a feeble breath, but it was considerably much easier than a few seconds ago. She closed her eyes as she tried to relax a little bit, focusing first on her breathing. She hadn’t had an attack like that in years. Now she had to remember to get a replacement pen, just in case. She felt a timid hand brush some hair from her face and she reopened her eyes to Ruby’s full of tears.

“Ruby…”

Weiss’ voice was barely above a whisper, but the brunette heard it loud and clear. Ruby let out a sob as she brought Weiss back into her lap, holding her close. She buried her face into Weiss’ neck, feeling her pulse barely start to return to normal.

“I’m sorry…” she apologized with a hiccup. “I didn’t think -- I forgot and I -- I’m so sorry, Weiss…”

“Ruby...it wasn’t your fault,” Weiss responded, still trying to catch her breath, but feeling better. She managed to bring a hand up to cradle the back of Ruby’s head, gently stroking her hair. “You saved me, technically speaking.” She pressed a kiss to Ruby’s cheek to placate her. “I’ll be fine...but I still need to go to the hospital.”

The younger girl gave a sniffle before rubbing the tears away from her eyes. “R-Right, yeah, I’ll call an ambulance. Weiss, I’m --”

“You can apologize to me later,” Weiss chided her, suddenly feeling the fatigue from this ordeal. She let out a careful sigh. “Just...make sure I’m still breathing.”

“Don’t make jokes right now!” Ruby whimpered, her finger hovering just over her phone’s ‘call’ button. 

Weiss gave the barest of smirks. She made sure she had Ruby’s attention before she called for an ambulance. If she were to die from making this joke, then it was worth it. Maybe.

“Remember earlier...when I said I’d think of a comeback? Well… Ruby Rose, you leave me breathless.”

==========

This came about from my headcanon that Weiss is actually very allergic to apples. Considering she’s based on Snow White, I thought it matched pretty appropriately if it put her in a life-or-death situation. I also had to research allergic reactions and how EpiPens work, so that was cool. I hope it’s accurate!

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Hush Little Baby - Peter Maximoff

Gif: Unknown on Tenor

Word Count: 1.9K

Paring: Peter Maximoff (X-Men) x (f)Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter have had a son and Y/N worries about any mutations their little Logan

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist

Requested: @kurreapormaranet 

______________________________________________________________

When you and Peter discovered you were expecting, there was a moment of panic. Neither of you really knew how to be functioning adults, let alone parents, now you had a baby on the way. What a nightmare. Especially with the danger of mutations. Peter was quite clearly a mutant to the human eye, with his natural silver hair and his lack of fear in hiding his mutation, while yourself was a bit more subtle, with no physical attributes that would link you to being a mutant and that you even hid your mutation, flight manipulation, in front of humans.

The moment you saw the positive sign on the test you thought of you and Peter first meeting through Logan Howlett. Logan had brought you to the Maximoff residence as you both had abilities to help break Erik out of prison. You had thought that after the prison break you and Peter would go separate ways, but you didn’t. Peter insisted on taking you home as you were miles away, but before you left he wanted to take you for a coffee. Coffee turned into lunch into dinner into weekly meetups into dates into a relationship.

Three peaceful years were changed all of a sudden when you missed your period. At first, you didn’t pay it any heed, periods weren’t always accurate to predict, so you didn’t think too much, but then you started feeling sick in the mornings and your breasts were sore. You didn’t want to believe it and couldn’t hide it from Peter, who had a sense when things were troublesome for you and wanted to help you.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Peter asked, sitting next to you on the bed and wrapping an arm around you.

“I… I’m pregnant…” you whispered as you handed him the test in your hand. Peter took the test and blinked at it as though you had held out the ‘Iliad’ by Homer in the original Ancient Greek and asked him to translate it.

“Holy Shit,” he mumbled, “you have a baby growing inside you.”

“Uh huh…”

“What are we gonna do?”

“We?” That caught your attention and you turned to face him. Peter nodded and gave you a small smile.

“You didn’t think I was gonna leave you to deal with this alone, did you?” Peter cocked an eyebrow. “We’ll figure this out,” he promised, “if you wanna have the baby, I’ll be with you, if not, then I’ll still be with you if you want me to.”

Then you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. In that second it didn’t matter what happened with the baby, it mattered that Peter was going to be by your side the whole time.  

“I want to do this,” you told him, “and I want to do this with you.”

“Guess I better get an engagement ring then,” Peter grinned before kissing you.

____________________________________________________________

One wedding ceremony and nine months later, you gave birth to a little boy who you named Logan after the man who introduced you to each other. Logan hadn’t appeared in your life since that one meeting but you wondered what came of him and wanted to honour him in some sense.

What worried you about your little Logan was what his mutation would be. With two mutant parents, it was a guarantee that he would too have a mutation, but what one was the question. You and Peter tried talking to Charles about it, but Charles had no idea himself. Logan was too young, an infant, you couldn’t know an infant’s abilities, you had to wait, which was nerve-racking. Every morning Peter would find you sitting next to Logan’s crib staring at him and nibbling on your thumb with anxiety.

Peter placed his hands on your shoulders and kissed the top of your head.

“He’ll be fine,” Peter insisted, “he’s got a kickass mum who will defend him to the end and a dad who will fight tooth and nail to keep him safe. No one will hurt him. Go sleep, you’ve been up for twelve hours.”

“Just five more minutes,” you whispered, “I just wanna watch him sleep.”

“I could watch him for hours,” Peter sighed, “he’s incredible,” Peter let his son wrap his tiny little hand around his finger.

“I love him so much.”

“More than me?” Peter grinned teasingly.

“Definitely. No offence.”

“None taken,” Peter said “I’d say the same thing. I love you but Logan… Logan is… everything… he’s like… part of me extended from my body and all I wanna do is protect him.”

“I know what you mean,” You nodded and leaned back into him. “We’ll do right by him, won’t we?”

“Completely,” Peter promised, “no go sleep.” Peter pulled you to your feet and led you to the bedroom, even when you tried to dart past him to get back to Logan. “You need to sleep.” He insisted.

“Okay,” you sighed in agreement, giving up resisting as all the sleepless nights from a new-born paired with the constant stress and anxiety of what would happen to Logan if he was a mutant started overwhelming you. You let out a large yawn and fell onto the bed. Peter pulled the blanket over you and kissed you before you dozed off.

___________________________________________________________

A solid fifteen hours you slept for before waking up. You woke when you heard Logan whining and you tried to get up to get to him but you stumbled and hit your elbow against the doorframe, cursing to yourself as you continued to walk to Logan’s room, wondering where Peter was. For a second you thought Peter had gone to the shops to pick up more diapers as you were low on them, but when you reached the door of Logan’s room.

Peter was cradling Logan in his arms and hushing him, rocking him, humming a lullaby to him. He wasn’t aware you were there and watching him.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word.

Papa's going to buy you a mocking bird.

And if that mocking bird don't sing,

Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring.

And if that diamond ring is brass,

Papa's going to buy you a looking glass.

And if that looking glass gets broke,

Papa's going to buy you a billy goat.

And if that billy goat don't pull,

Papa's going to you a cart and bull.

And if that cart and bull turn over,

Papa's going to buy a dog called Rover.

And if that dog called Rover don't bark,

Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart.

And if that horse and cart turn round,

You'll still be the sweetest little babe in town.”

Peter sang quietly and off-key, never being one for musical talent, and then hummed the tune of the lullaby for a moment as Logan calmed down in his father’s arms and gurgled for a minute before falling asleep. Peter then gently lowered him into his crib and sighed, resting his hands on the railings.

“You take requests?” You asked from the door frame, leaning against it. Peter turned around to see you standing there and smiled. The pair of you walked to each other, Peter putting his arms around your waist and you putting yours around his neck, both rocking back and forth with small chuckles.

“What’s the payment?” Peter asked with a smile.

“Kisses?”

“Is that all?”

“Fine,” you sighed, pulling back, “if that doesn’t work for you, I’ll find someone who wants that payment.”

Peter quickly grabbed you and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m not an idiot, babe.”

“Here’s your first payment now,” you grinned, leaning on the tip of your toes and giving him a quick peck.

“Is that all?” Peter leaned closer to you, “that little kiss as payment.” You kissed him deeper, pulling him closer.

“How’s that?” You whispered against his lips.

“Better. I might need another… as interest.”

“I think we’re venturing into territory which resulted in the conception of Logan…”

“Wanna make him a big brother?”

“Let’s have Logan walking and talking before we consider adding another member to our little family.”

“Yes, Mam’” Peter laughed pulling back.

You both walked over to Logan’s crib and peered in again. Logan twisted in his sleep and the little lamb figurine shattered into hundreds of pieces, waking him up and causing him to cry. Peter and you turned to each other in stunned silence.

“I think we know his mutation,” you whispered. You quickly pulled Logan into your arms and comforted him.

“I’ll call the professor.”

“Is it normal for kids to show this early?” You asked him, “when did you grow into your powers?”

“I remember discovering them as a kid, but it was not this early. You?”

“I was… I don’t know… fifteen,” you frowned, “should we be worried?”

“No.” Peter hugged you for a second, careful not to squash Logan. “Let me call the professor,” Peter said before speeding out the room. You held Logan close and kissed his head.

“It’s okay, Logan Honey, I’m here, I got you, Mummy’s here.” You whispered into his head. Not even two minutes later, Peter came back into the room, staring at you and your son.

“He’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Peter said.

“Peter, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” Peter held you both close. “We’ve got this, remember?”

“Yeah, we’ve got this,” you nodded and smiled at him.

__________________________________________________________

Charles arrived and the pair of you told him everything, what you witnessed and how young Logan was and how that worried you. Charles sat there calmly and listening to everything, nodding at what you said.

“Should we be worried?” You finished, still holding Logan to your chest.

���No,” Charles assured you, “I know of some mutants discovering their abilities this early in life, there is no need to be worried.”

“Thank God,” Peter sighed, stroking Logan’s back.

“The only thing this means is that he has to train earlier than others, so he doesn’t get out of control,” Charles explained to you, “mutations like this can be dangerous if left untrained. Luckily it was discovered now with you two and not in a public school or environment like that.” You and Peter sighed in relief. “Now, it is late, and the three of you need to sleep.” Charles smiled at you “goodnight Mr and Mrs Maximoff. I will take my leave now.”

“Night Professor,” you and Peter said as you watched Charles leave before returning Logan to his crib and then collapsing on the bed side by side and holding hands.

“At least we don’t have to worry,” Peter told you, “we can do this.” He turned his head to face you and grinned broadly. “Our little Logan, a mutant like his mummy and daddy.”

“And we’ll keep him safe,” You said, “from anyone who hates mutants, we’ll protect him. We can do this.”

Before the two of you could fall asleep, Logan started crying again and you heard a window break. You and Peter looked at each other and laughed.

“Doesn’t mean it’ll be easy,” Peter stood up and you joined him, “but I’m up for it, with you.”

“Likewise, Mr Maximoff,” you said as you and Peter headed towards Logan’s room and took it in turns cradling him and singing lullabies to him. You handed him to Peter, who smiled at his son and began to sing badly.

“Hush Little Baby…”

[pickalilywrites]

“This tree’s bigger than my future” for EreAni

Lily says she loves you! -K

A Christmas Miracle

EreAni. Modern AU.

1950 words.

Buy me a Ko-fi!

Despite being nicknamed “Ice Queen” in her high school and college years for her cold demeanor, Annie actually hates the cold. She spends most winter days cooped up in her room, bundled up in half a dozen blankets with a hot chocolate on her desk. The only reason she’s outside now is because Eren kept begging to go out and shop for a Christmas tree – “The apartment is depressing without any decorations,” Eren complained. “Let’s get a tree at least! Can you imagine how Falco would feel to see our apartment in this sad state when it’s so close to the holidays?” – and she decided that she would rather put up with the cold than his constant whining.

“Hey, look!” Eren said, pointing at yet another tree. “That tree looks even bigger than my future!”

She knows better than to look, but she does anyway. She isn’t surprised when she sees a tree that’s as small as a child – it’s even smaller than Falco, Annie thinks. If the cold isn’t bad enough, she also has to put up with Eren pointing at trees, each one smaller than the last, and commenting about how it’s bigger than his future. She has half a mind to just drive away now so that he has to carry the damn tree on his back.

“Can you just pick a tree?” Annie sighs. A cool wind breezes past, making Annie shiver. She pulls her coat more tightly around herself and frowns when Eren continues to stroll slowly past the forest of pine trees. It’s depressing to be here for over an hour and watch other families bring home trees while she and Eren are no closer to bringing back their own Christmas tree than they were when they had first arrived at the lot.

Eren holds up a finger, shaking his head as if talking to an impatient child. “Now, now, Annie,” Eren says, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. “You can’t just pick a tree. This is a tree that we’ll be stuck with until at least after New Year’s. We need to pick one that’s not just beautiful…it has to be…perfect.”

“Aside from size, they all look the same to me,” Annie mutters, but she doesn’t shake him off.

“That’s because you don’t have the eye for this kind of thing,” Eren says. It’s ironic, considering the fact that Annie’s the one who has to tell him not to go out wearing flannel and stripes at the same time. “Pine trees aren’t all the same. They’ve all got a personality, Annie! Just look at the shape of the branches, the color of the pine needles, the smell of the – oh! Annie!” Before Annie can even see where he’s looking, Eren has run into an entirely different direction, completely convinced that he has found the perfect tree for their apartment. Knowing Eren, she had expected to find him at the base of a magnificent tree, one that was too large to fit in their apartment but was undeniably gorgeous. Instead, she chased after him only to see him squatting down at a pathetic excuse of a tree – it’s more like a branch, really – that hardly reaches his knee.

Eren reaches out to gently touch the pine needles of the puny tree, dusting off the snow lovingly. “Annie, it’s perfect,” he breathes. It’s as if he’s greeting his newborn child. “And it’s…”

“Bigger than your future, I know,” Annie finishes for him with a sigh. She looks over once again at the sad tree and its drooping branches that are nearly snapping off because of the weight of the snow, and she wonders how Eren can find something so pitiful-looking so beautiful. “It looks like the tree that Charlie Brown and his friends had.”

“And I love it,” Eren says, the lovestruck expression still on his face. He looks eagerly over at Annie, eyebrows raised and an excited smile on his face. “Can we get it, Annie? Please? It was waiting here just for us. It’s like some kind of Christmas miracle!”

Annie doesn’t know if she should be happy about this choice or not. To be honest, she had never been much of a Christmas person and a tree just seemed like more trouble than it was. At least with this tree, Annie doesn’t have to worry about cleaning up a pile of pine needles off the carpet at the end of the night, although she’s certain it won’t have any needles by the time Christmas rolls around.

“Fine,” Annie says. “You can have your stupid tree.”

“You’re amazing!” Eren beams, standing up to wrap Annie up in a hug. He lets go just as quickly, running off to go find the owner of the lot so he can ask for the price of the tree. Annie isn’t pleased when she hears how much it costs.

“I’m not paying twenty dollars for that,” Annie says with her arms crossed across her chest. Really, it’s a crime that they aren’t walking away with this tree for free considering how stupid it looks, but asking for $20 is way too much. She had thought the Christmas spirit would make the owner of the lot a little more generous with his pricing, but she should have realized that someone working in this business would take advantage of the holiday season and jack up the prices until the cost was almost unreasonable.

“Well, then you can take your business elsewhere,” the owner says with a shrug. His smug look when he sees Eren’s devastated expression makes Annie want to punch him. What infuriates her the most is that he acts as though he has a chance of selling off this tree to someone else.

“Annie,” Eren whispers, tugging at her sleeve.

Annie yanks her arm away from him. She’ll deal with him later – and she might have to tell him to take more haggling lessons from Sasha because he’s making this more difficult than it has to be. Annie frowns at the lot owner. “Why should I give you any money for this tree at all?” she says with a slight sneer. She should be a little nicer. After all, it’s almost the holidays, but she doesn’t think the man deserves any civility considering how much money he’s attempting to scam from her. “This doesn’t look anything at all like a tree. I could just easily snap off a branch from one of your real trees and take that home.”

“If you dare break one of my trees, you’ll buy the entire thing,” the man growls with a dark look on his face. He stares down at Annie, probably thinking that it won’t be difficult to intimidate a small woman, but Annie only glares back at him. After a while, he realizes that Annie won’t back down any time soon. “Fifteen.”

“Ten,” Annie says, relishing the scowl on his face. Honestly, she probably would have taken the tree for fifteen if he had offered that price before, but he had the audacity to push for twenty in the first place. “Take it or else I really will snap off a branch and drive off.”

The man opens his mouth, shocked that she would threaten him like that, but other families begin to watch. “Fine, take it,” he mutters, deciding that she isn’t worth the trouble.

“Thanks for your trouble,” Annie says with a smug smile. She pulls out a crisp ten-dollar bill and offers it to the man. It doesn’t even bother her when he rudely snatches it from her hand. “Happy holidays.”

“Merry Christmas,” the man mutters, shoving the money into his pocket before going off to scam a few more families for more money than the trees are worth.

“Hurry up and get the tree, Eren,” Annie says, tucking her wallet back into her purse. “It’s freezing.”

“Yup!” Eren says cheerfully. He picks up the tree, cradling it delicately in his arm as if it’s a baby. With his free hand, he reaches out to hold Annie’s gloved hand. He beams at her brightly. “I can’t wait for Falco to visit. He’s going to be so excited about this tree!”

Annie actually thinks that Falco will be more disappointed than anything, but she doesn’t say anything because Eren adores the tree so much. At least she knows Falco is sweet enough to politely compliment the tree when he does end up seeing it. She makes a mental note to suggest having the Christmas party anywhere else but their apartment this year. She’s sure that none of their friends or family will be nearly as kind as Falco when they see the tree. She can imagine Jean laughing at it right now, and she really doesn’t want to put up with her boyfriend brawling with Jean Kirstein during Christmas.

“Just don’t put any ornaments on that thing,” Annie says to Eren, eyeing the tree warily when they both get into the car. When Eren sits down, an alarming number of needles are shed onto the floor of the car. Annie will be surprised it if manages to keep any of them by the time they arrive home.

“Annie, Annie!” Eren says, shaking his girlfriend awake even though – at least she can tell from the light outside her window – it’s hardly eight o’clock. Hadn’t she told him not to wake her up before noon if it was the weekend?

“Shut up,” Annie grumbles, yanking her arm away from him. She breaks free and wraps herself up in her blankets, turning away from Eren so that he won’t bother her anymore.

“But it’s a Christmas miracle!” Eren tells her. He’s on the bed now, bouncing up and down like an excited child. “You’ve got to come and see!”

She was hoping that she could just go back to sleep, but it seems unlikely that Eren will let her rest unless she agrees to take a look at what he’s babbling on about. Anyway, his jostling the bed has woken her up now, and it always takes her a while to fall back asleep.

“Alright,” Annie grumbles, shoving her blankets off. Grudgingly, she follows him out of her room. She’s going to kill him if it turns out he had woken her up for a stupid reason.

Eren eventually leads her to the living room, stopping in front of the table where they had put the Christmas tree. Except the Christmas tree they had bought a few days earlier is not there. In its place is a tree that’s almost the same size as its predecessor, but it actually looks like a respectable tree. It even has little red and silver ornaments all around it, and it’s topped with a glittering golden star.

The thing is, though, Annie already knows about this tree because she is the one who had put it there. After seeing that miserable pine they had bought earlier – which, by the way, Annie was pretty sure was dying because of how the pine needles were browning and falling out – Annie had snuck out one night and just bought a replacement tree, thrown on a few decorations, and went to bed. She was going to tell Eren this morning, but it seems like he had beaten her to it.

“I told you!” Eren says, beaming. “A Christmas miracle!”

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, not when he’s smiling at her like that. And besides, it can’t hurt to think some festive entity snuck into their apartment and revived their tree.

“Yeah,” Annie agrees, patting her boyfriend’s shoulder. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

[raendown]

A commission for @thatshipcat done earlier than I thought it would be! Hurrah!

Pairing: ObitoSasori Rated: T+ Word count: 1686 Summary: Obito wakes up with a hangover, no memories, and a new ring on his finger.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the blog header!

Forever Begins The Morning After

Judging by the hammering sensation inside his skull the moment he woke up, last night had been pretty good. Obito really wished he could remember what happened. The last thing he remember was Hidan ordering a round of shots while Obito declared him the best friend he’d ever had, a statement that had less effect when he remembered that he had also declared one of the bouncers the best friend he’d ever had for letting him in despite the fact that he was visibly unsteady on his feet. It could be impossible getting in to The Star and Kunai sometimes.

Doing his best to think around the sensation of his own skull repeatedly imploding, Obito realized that he was really quite warm, surprising considering how cold the spring weather had been so far this year. Also he was fairly sure that whatever was draped across his chest was not a blanket.

When he cracked one eye open he was met first with a face full of red. Blinking did not remove the red but it did focus his blurred vision enough to identify a head of thick red hair. Irritation swept through him immediately. Had he really taken home a redhead when he was too drunk to remember it? Obito adored redheads; they always made the best partners in bed.

“If you are attempting to pretend you’re still asleep then don’t bother. You stopped snoring five minutes ago.” The voice that spoke was melodic and very clearly male. Obito’s interest rose when the hair in front of him shifted, lifting away to reveal an utterly gorgeous face, though it was slightly marred by the appearance of a frown. “You’ll need to break that habit, I’m afraid. I will not be married to a man who snores.”

“Uh…what?”

“Hm. Unintelligent in general or merely in the aftermath of alcohol? To be determined.” The stranger blinked impassively before getting up and leaving him behind with a loose jaw.

Obito watched him as he stood from the bed and wandered about the room with curious eyes, perfectly comfortable in his own nude state. It was hard not to notice how pretty he was. His entire body was a work of art from the red hair to the sculpted chest to the intricately carved prosthetic leg on his right side.

Unfortunately it was hard to concentrate on any of that when his eyes snagged on the slim silver band around the man’s left ring finger. Judging by how brightly it shined even in the low light it was either frequently polished or brand new. Obito got his answer to that query when he lifted one hand to wave for the stranger’s attention and caught sight of the matching band on his own finger. Why was he wearing a wedding ring? He hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring yesterday. That definitely seemed like something he would have noticed, being single and all.

In the name of all that was unholy he was going to kill Hidan. Worst friend ever. Clearly this was somehow all his fault and Obito vowed to make sure he suffered for it.

“We didn’t…did we…are we married!?” Moving to Kiri was an absolute mistake, he should have listened when Kakashi told him to stay in Konoha. For fuck’s sake he lived right down the road from one of those drive through wedding chapels.

“Ah, your memories have yet to reboot.” The stranger didn’t seem to notice Obito twitching at his choice of words. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we did get married. Regrettable that you did not take the time to court me first but we’ll make the best of it, I’m sure.”

He wasn’t even finished speaking when Obito began scrambling through the mussed blankets around himself, looking for his phone and trying very hard to ignore the fact that he also appeared to be naked. Last night had apparently been the night of his life; it was a shame he couldn’t remember most of it because he had a feeling there were lots of other interesting tidbits hiding just behind the wall of his blackout.

Exclaiming softly with triumph when his fingers met the smooth glass of his phone screen, Obito pulled it out and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one labelled ‘Religionut’. Hidan picked up after three rings.

“Good morning so far?”

“Don’t take that smarmy tone with me, ass-fuck. You march your religious ass over here right now and annul this shit! Yesterday I was single and this morning I wake up to find out I have a husband!?”

“Annul?” The stranger in his bedroom turned away from the window and narrowed his eyes, pinning Obito in place as he listened to his now-ex-friend’s mocking laughter. “No such thing will happen. You may hang up the phone with who I assume to be our mutual priest acquaintance because his services will not required.”

“Not–? Hidan, stop laughing! Oh fuck it.” With a noise of disgust he ended the call and tossed the phone away from himself. He could always call back later.

His guest nodded in approval. “Marriage is eternal. I will accept nothing less.”

“Alright listen here…uh…”

“Sasori,” the man provided helpfully.

“Right. Listen here, Sasori. You’re hot and all – really hot, actually – but you can’t be serious. We just met. Clearly we were both drunk. And, I mean, look at me.” Unnecessary as it was, he still lifted one hand to gesture at the scars covering the right side of his face. Obito believed in seeing things how they were without sugarcoating them and he was well aware that he was no prize these days. Not since the accident.

Instead of looking at all convinced Sasori hummed and gestured to his prosthetic. “Look at me,” he offered in a bland voice.

After opening and closing his mouth a few times Obito snapped it shut decisively and stood from the bed, dragging the sheets with him to preserve what modesty he could while he rustled up some clothing. It had been a long time since someone looked at him and saw passed the scarring he carried on his face and as touched as he was by Sasori’s casual acceptance he found he wasn’t quite ready to face that without at least two cups of coffee in his bloodstream. And maybe an entire handful of painkillers. Honestly, possible overdose sounded better than continuing to live with this headache.

Breakfast was made slightly awkward by the fact that Sasori still hadn’t put any clothes on and his nudity was very distracting. Not because it made Obito uncomfortable to see a naked body but more because he was having a hard time not thinking about what the man would look like spread across the table like a one course buffet.

“You know it’s a terrible idea for two strangers to stay married,” he said to distract himself. Sasori hummed and carefully stirred a bit of cream in to his coffee. No sugar, Obito noted.

“Beauty can only truly be found in things that last forever.” The spoon made a delicate ringing sound when he tapped it against the edge of his mug before setting it aside. “And a marriage cannot last forever if you give up on it so easily. I will not sign any annulment papers. Now, where do you keep your eggs?”

“My…what?”

“Eggs. I was thinking omelets might be a nice start to the day.”

Thoroughly bemused, Obito pointed to the fridge and then directed him to the bottom shelf where they were hiding behind a carton of orange juice lying on its side. He stayed quiet and poked at the bowl of cereal he’d made for himself, privately admitting that it would be rather nice to have someone around who could do more than just buy the eggs and wait for someone who could cook to show up. It was surprising they were still in date, actually, since he didn’t remember when he’d picked them up.

While he whipped up an omelet for himself with graceful ease Sasori questioned Obito about himself, what he did for a living, what his name was, how long he had lived here in Kiri, where he had grown up. Obito spent the entire conversation twirling the new ring on his finger and trying not to think about how he was already growing comfortable with its weight. Sasori was nice. He was interesting and mature and blunt and he clearly had more brain cells to rub together than Obito ever had.

The more he thought about it the more he realized that he had already capitulated to this madness somewhere in the back of his mind.

Sighing and rubbing his hands down his face, Obito did what he did best. He justified his decisions after the fact. All of his friends had been bothering him to settle down and he had been lonely for a while now. In fact, hadn’t he said something to Rin just last month about how he wished a loving life partner would just magically appear in his bed overnight? The old saying about being careful what you wished for floated through his mind but he shoved it away. In this case he wasn’t so sure it was a bad thing that he had gotten what he wanted.

He was dragged out of his musings when Sasori settled across from him, pushing his own abandoned bowl of cereal away and happily digging in to the eggs he’d prepared.

“Alright. Well. Marriage, huh?” Obito paused in fiddling with his ring when he saw the fond look Sasori gave to his own.

“Indeed. I did always want to get married someday. Do try to make an effort, won’t you?”

“Heh. I suppose I could give it a try.” Obito rolled his eyes and shoved a bite of cereal in his mouth, trying not to smile around his spoon. Marriage as a concept had never been something he objected to anyway.

And he had a feeling that Sasori would make a fine husband in the end.

[ladywordsworth]

When Dr. Jefferson joined an archeological expedition in search of ancient artifacts for the local museum, she didn’t expect to dig into a creature that been sleeping for centuries. Nor did she expect the drastic changes it would bring to her life.

“It took centuries before they realized the mine was digging into the flesh of a petrified creature.” Shout out to @thependragonwritersguild for the prompt!

Dr. Jefferson stood hesitantly in the doorway, high strung and chewing her lip as she tightly gripped the green notebook clutched to her chest. She stood with one foot over the threshold, while the other hanged idly in the hallway as if to anchor her back to a reality that she knew would disappear the moment she walked in the hospital room.

And with the foreboding sensation that rumbled within her gut, she was reminded that she had no choice in the matter. She would cross, or they would make her cross.

Unwilling to let them react should she waste more time, Dr. Jefferson stepped into the hospital room with a ‘click-clack’ of her heels, announcing her presence with an additional clearing of her throat. The patient gave very little indication that he’d heard her though, as his attention seemed to be given completely to the scene outside of the window.

Aside from his auburn hair, which seemed to gleam like embers in the sunlight pouring through the window, the strands catching like fires, he seemed still as a statue. Which wasn’t surprising considering how she and the team of archeologist had found him.

Even her chair, skidding across the waxed floor seemed to do little to disturb him.

Another uncomfortable rumble of her throat as she adjusted herself in the plastic chair, moving back just a bit to put a comfortable distance between her and the patient still did nothing to alert him.

“Hello…um” she drew, “I’m Dr. Jefferson, and--”

“The one who found me?” What attention he’d given to the sun and sky, he’d seemingly given to her, as his unsettling, green eyes seemed to fall on her hazel ones.

“Yes, well no--” She clarified, “I was only the one who recognized the...scales. But you’d been found centuries ago.”

No response. Only those green, unsettling eyes. Dr. Jefferson chewed on her tongue

“Do you know where you are?” She decided it was best to skip the formalities and go straight to the questioning, “When you...changed...you looked at me and told me you didn’t know you were in Africa?”

“It was you,” he replied as his eyes ghosted over her appearance, “your skin...is so...dark, and your hair…perhaps we're in London?”

Quite accustomed to the locals here already making a point to question her about her skin or culture, she prepared her memorized rebutle.

“um...no,” she laughed, nervously, “I'm from the United States, I'm just here for a program. We’re in Ireland now, though”

“The United States?” His immaculately serene expression seemed to contort into a series of different expressions all at once. And Dr. Jefferson stilled herself as she prepared for whatever was to come out of his seemingly animated emotional state.

Until finally, he settled for an unreadable expression.

“What year am in?”

Oh boy, she thought to herself, the plot thickens.

“2015.” Those dark pupils seemed to elongate into the reptilian slits that they were just hours ago, and he seemed to grow glossy sheen about his skin. With her eyes, Dr. Jefferson could make out the vaguest outline of scales.

“Please don’t do that,” she reached over the bed without thinking, and placed a comforting arm on his skin, “you did it earlier...tried to turn...and almost fell out of the sky.” Plus, your real form is so big you’d destroy this building and me along with it, she thought.

It seemed as if his inability to escape sent him into a panic. He looked around frantically, chest rising and falling as he his heart rammed against his ribcage. He seemed nervous, scared almost. And all at once began showing the typical signs of an anxiety attack.

“Hey, let’s calm down.” Immediately, Dr. Jefferson jumped into the role of a therapist, shedding the anxiety and uncertainty she’d had earlier, “take a deep breath, breath with me.”  She squeezed his arm repeatedly, noticing how it fluctuated between soft human-like skin and thick scaly skin. It seemed as if he was fighting the urge to turn his body and fly away, fly away to some time he’d just realized he’d lost, or to a home, he’d realized was gone.

“I’m fine.” He sounded anything but certain, and not even the steady tone in his voice seemed convincing. However, he did seem more collected than he had before and managed to breathe easier.

“How did you find me?”

“I didn’t find you,” she repeated, honestly, “I only came here with a digging group and happened to wake you up. But the locals were technically the ones who found you, years ago though. They just didn’t know what you were.”

“It was just now we saw the scales, and realized not even diamond drills could cut into you. Everything else must've been shedded skin--at least that’s what the reptile people said--

And then there was that sword that came out of nowhere. And--

“You pulled it out?” He asked, with a curious tilt of his head.

Dr. Jefferson nodded, remembering the surge of power that erupted throughout her body as she grabbed the silver hilt. At the time it seemed like the sword at been beckoning her to pull it.

“Yes. And it seemed to wake you up because the ground just started moving, and suddenly there was half a dragon trying to come out of the crater. But then....you turned into a man not seconds later?”

“It’s our disguise.” responded the man, as he threw the cover off of his legs and swung his body over the bed, “We use it to blend in with the humans.”

We?” She scribbled in her notebook, “There are more of you--wait, where are you going?”

She stood just as he placed a foot on the windowsill as if preparing to jump. He gave a push to the glass, furrowing his brows when it refused to open.

“Those won’t open. Hospital regulation won’t allow the staff to unlock them,” explained Dr. Jefferson, as she walked around the bed so that she stood beside the dragon.

“Interesting,” he commented, tilting his head in wonder at the glass, “I figured this was a hospital. Though last I remember, we were allowed to open the windows.”

Last I remember, she thought, just how old is this guy?

He then quickly muttered a sentence under his breath, the language foreign to Jefferson’s ears. Though she could pick up the distinct sound of hissing and growling, almost as if she were listening to a snake. She jotted a quick note down in her book, not having time to write much of anything else, as the window swung open, letting a cool breeze of summer air into the room.

“Wait, sir!? I can’t let you leave, the--”

“I have things to do doctor, and I can’t do them trapped here in your prison of a hospital.”  Then he turned away from her, with both feet on the edge of the window, and his hands on the frames as if holding himself before he jumped. He looked at the woman, those green of his eyes amused and delighted, and continued to stare very hard at her. Now the doctor felt nervous all over again, and the reluctance she’d felt as she debated on crossing the threshold came back again.

“Thank you, doctor, for waking me. Our paths will cross again, as it should be for the human who woke me from my slumber.” And with that, he let himself fall, “for I am a member of the dragon race, and we do not tell lies.”

Jefferson ran towards the ledge, looking down in horror, half expecting to see a man splattered across the pavement. But she saw no such thing, and any trace of the dragon had disappeared completely.

Then, it happened. A collum of very hot air the size of a large building blue upward with such a force that knocked her off her feet. With it, a  sinister laugh filled the air, followed by a deep, booming voice.

“Keep your knowledge amongst you and those close to you, for many will seek what little you know for great power.” It said, fading with the wind, “and remember; we will see one another again, very, very soon.”

Dr. Jefferson allowed herself to collapse on the bed, her mind attempting to process everything that had just happened in the span of two minutes. The spell, the freefall, the air...and the two ominous warnings.

Not surprisingly, she could piece together very little of it, but never the less began scribbling her observations. Though hesitated just slightly, perhaps it was best to write as little as possible.

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

Truly, she’d lost the little tether to reality she’d had the moment she’d stepped over that threshold.

[klcthebookworm]

Reproduction in the GFFA Part Three: Using it in Fanfic

Nobody has given me a better name for artificial wombs based off cloning tanks for the GFFA as discussed in Reproduction in the GFFA, so I'm using gestational chambers. And since I can't sew up a Free Ryloth Twi'lek costume right now, I decided to give you guys some summary fic as to how I would introduce the concept of gestational chambers to the GFFA. It probably won't become a more polished story because of other writing projects, unless someone else wants to take it as a plot bunny and go.

Setting is post-Luke/Callista break-up and after Mara Jade acquires Jade's Fire. I'm a little fuzzy on that time period in Legends continuity. I own Children of the Jedi and Darksaber, but I don't remember reading the second one. And I don't remember if I had read Planet of Twilight and never bothered to buy it either. But this is set before the Hand of Thrawn duology and probably the Black Fleet Crisis trilogy too.

Best Laid Plans

Mara delivers some supplies to the Jedi Academy on Yavin 4 and arranges for a few days stay, sparring practice, catching up with the Jedi she knows, uses showing off the Fire's flight capabilities as a pretense to get to talk to Luke alone. Luke is excited by her improvements to the ship, and doesn't ruin the outing by being morose about his break-up or by nagging Mara to finish her training. So she jumps into what she wants to tell him. "I've been saving my credits to buy my own ship, but I got the Fire without spending the bulk of it. So I decided to spend it on a baby instead."

Luke is a little shocked. "You and Lando need funds for a baby?"

"I'm not having a baby with Lando. We're not involved like that any more." (Keeping the relationship cover story intact.) Before Luke can derail the conversation into unnecessary condolences, she continues. "There's a clinic on Coruscant, very private and discreet, that uses gestational chambers. That's what I have to pay for, but I can keep working without any danger to the baby."

"That's not how it's done on Tatooine," Luke teases. "I never thought about them."

"Most people don't unless there's fertility or genetic compatibility issues. But since I don't want a clone, I need donor sperm. I can use sperm the clinic has or supply my own donor. Would you want to have a child with me?"

Luke never saw that request coming, but Mara defends her choice. Out of all the men she knows, Luke has the qualities she wants for the father of her child. And she's seen him with his niece and nephews and knows he wants a child of his own. But no pressure, think about it and meditate on it. Luke tells her regardless of his choice, she will make a wonderful mother.

Luke does meditate on it and they talk about what type of parenting partner does Mara desire (whatever he is comfortable with). Luke has a vision of a boy and girl with Mara's hair, and that's what sways him over to saying yes. Mara leaves Yavin 4 with Luke's deposit in a specimen jar.

Time lapse because I'm undecided at what stage of fetal development the future baby boy is at. Luke makes a trip to Coruscant to see what's happening and Cilghal has a list of questions/observations she wants answers to about fetal development of a Force Sensitive baby. He catches up with Mara. She's planning out the Fire's new cabin configuration to house a baby on board. He wants to know when they plan on telling everyone and has an offer for later. Cilghal, Kam, Tionne, Leia, and Han have all told him he needs a break from the Academy, so what if he traveled with her after the baby is born. No interference with her business, just two adults bonding with their infant.

Mara likes the idea, but before she has an answer, the HoloNet blows up with the story that Luke Skywalker is having a baby with far too many accurate details. Mara is livid and goes to the clinic. Luke heads to Leia and Han.

Han questions Luke on why when Luke confirms the story is true. Luke is bitter in front of him and Leia. "None of my relationships have lasted long enough for children and the children's services considers my lifestyle and lack of co-parent detrimental to me adopting a child. Are you really that surprised?"

Mara arrives at Leia and Han's quarters with news that Fey'lya was behind it at the same time Leia's aides figure it out. His motivations is apparently to spoil any political ambitions Luke has. "But I don't have any political ambitions," Luke protests. More importantly, Mara doesn't want to prevent Luke from seeing/raising his son because of all this. She knew about his notoriety before asking him.

Another time lapse fill in with whatever you want between Luke and Mara. Everything is going quiet again media-wise and then the clinic alerts them both: the gestational chamber with their baby has been stolen. The evidence at the clinic points to a Force user with a lightwhip, Lumiya. You can substitute another villain if you'd like; I thought she'd be fun for the previous history she's had with Luke and Mara separately.

So they're off in the Fire to rescue their son. They briefly stop at Yavin 4 for supplies, namely Luke's shoto and materials to make one for Mara. The perfect opportunity to nag Mara about training, but Luke doesn't take it, which is almost as upsetting as her plan to keep her son safe was ruined by Lumiya of all people. On Luke's part, I think he's finally learned futility in asking for what he wants. It has never worked with Mara and it didn't work with Callista.

Close quarters on a ship, intense training sessions demanded by Mara so she can get her shoto technique up to par with her other skills, and it doesn't take long for one spar to devolve into a make-out session. Spurred on because as the first kiss happened, Luke picked up on Mara's mental demand Don't pull away; you always pull away. Challenge accepted and it escalates quickly after than.

Luke wakes up from his post-coitus doze in Mara's cabin alone in the bed. And he has enough alone time to get deep into what the hell just happened thoughts before she returns from the galley with two mugs and wearing his tunic.

"Regrets already?" Mara passes him a mug of hot chocolate and perches on the edge of the bunk.

"I don't regret this, but I am confused. You never gave me any sign you were interested in more than just friendship."

"I never? I all but poured myself into that silver flight suit at the opening of the Academy for you and you never noticed!"

"I noticed you never wanted to stay with me. You always ran back to Karrde."

"You never wanted me to stay, just my talent in the Force. Karrde cares about all of me."

That observation from Mara deflates all of Luke's defensive huffiness. "I never meant it like that. All everyone has wanted out of me was being a Jedi; what else do I have to offer? I am sorry, Mara. You deserved more consideration from me and I failed you." While Mara's still processing that unexpected apology, he continues. "That explains Lando. He cared about the whole woman and expressed that. Smarter man than me."

"Wait, you've been jealous of Lando all this time? But you've had relationships. You ran to other women."

"Jealous of you with Lando, yes. Ashamed of myself for feeling that over your happiness when I should have felt nothing but joy for you both, yes. Of course I tried to move on. I know what to do when I'm not the wanted one."

Mara explains how the whole thing with her and Lando was just a cover story. "I never intended to make you jealous. I thought you didn't want me."

"I want you. Wanted you for so long. Do you want me? Do you want to continue?"

Mara puts down her mug, straddles his lap, and gives him a chocolate-flavored kiss. "Yes."

So after they've reached this level of understanding, they defeat Lumiya and return their son to the clinic. He's fine, and his parents are officially a couple.

The end I came up with is Luke comes back from meetings or something and finds Mara hovering over the sani. "We should have never had sex," she growls at him.

"But we're good at the sex." Luke starts to comfort her and gets down on the floor with her. "Why do you want to stop?"

She glares at him. "That's not what I said." She presses his hand against her stomach. "I'm pregnant. You got me pregnant."

She's not really angry under her morning sickness grumpiness, but her plans! She used to be GOOD at planning things. Luke is ecstatic and declares it must be a girl based on his earlier vision. The end.

I hope you enjoyed reading this. I learned a bit about my inspiration process. Dialogue comes first with the situation that creates the dialogue. Action sequences come later and that includes fight and sex scenes, which probably explains why I gloss over them in first drafts and have to make a concentrated effort to expand and explain them. And if anyone wants to flesh this scenario out to a full story, you've have my blessing.

[maasology]

Winged One (Pt. 1)

Here’s a fanfic that me and Victoria have been working on. We have our own made characters in here, hope you guys enjoy! We got a ton of inspiration from the following: @elnabu @propshophannah @cataclysmic-star

Part 2: coming

Part 3: coming

After some long, painfully uneventful hours, Amren had finally found her prey.

She had sensed enough movement in the near distance to assume the doe she found waiting had just sent her fawn off.

Wise decision, Amren thought. Her ancient heart had no memory of feeling sympathy, should she feel bad for the fawn she was about to render motherless.

The doe stood a good stretch away from her, but where Amren lurked in the shadows of a thick trunk, she could hear every course of its very blood just fine. Amren stalked closer with lethal stealth dripping from every step; every time her foot hit the ground nothing but the wind answered.

Amren had spent almost an hour looking for her daily fill but it seemed the animals were rather smart today. Maybe she should find new hunting ground soon. She’d ask Rhys later.

For now, the silent, deep grumble of her stomach drove her closer and closer to the poor, unsuspecting doe. Amren heard the birds flapping overhead, flying far above, by the very tip of the Illryian mountain Amren had claimed her’s for hunting purposes. Her senses always got sharper than usual when she was starved, and she hadn’t fed in quite a while. That was saying a lot, considering she only needed one filling per every few weeks.

Amren stopped.

The icy rage that filled her veins and clouded her senses was phenomenal. As soon as she felt the very change in the winds and the sounds of the trees’ usually still branches suddenly restless, Amren knew dinner would not come easy tonight. Not even a second after Amren’s nostrils flared with frustration, a piercing cry shook the grounds.

Amren tried running after the doe as its neck sprang up from where it had been drinking water from a stream, but she was just too far out of reach. If she had been maybe even a stride closer, the doe would not have slipped from her fingertips despite her immortal speed.

Amren damned all stealth to Hell and sent her fist flying into the bark of an old-looking Silver Birch. The lanky trunk wobbled and cracks webbed from the spot Amren had struck, but she didn’t quite care in her deafening outrage.

She had once again began her trek for food, aiming to go up, up, up until she could see all of those Illryian bastards training in their war camps. Not even two steps in, the air rang with another scream.

Amren sniffed, her nose twitching with the action. She had originally thought that the cry was some animal caught in a trap, but now that she had heard it again, Amren realized that it might have been a person’s screech.

Her tongue glided out to ease her chapped lips as she mentally cursed Illryian winters. She might have thought to investigate if she were in her normal state, but she could find not even one kernel of a reason to care enough while she hungered like this. Amren carried on walking, not looking back for a while.

By the time she sensed something was off, the sun had already begun its descent. The beautiful starry sky the Night Court was famous for blurred into sight, and, had she not had senses so keen, she might have not been able to see where she was going under the cover of the thick canopy. Shreds of moonlight were beginning peek through holes in the leaves.

Amren stopped dead in her tracks.

She sniffed once, and then it hit her.

Alec Aylward.

The name made Amren see red, her breath coming in small pants. Everything pieced together in her mind - Alec’s scent, the screams, the Illryian war camp a few traces back…

The thought of what they did to their female kin, of what they were probably doing right now, was enough to temporarily blind Amren of her aching hunger.

It was quite easy to follow the path his scent carved for her. She wished she could have found her prey as fast as she had found Alec.

Only he wasn’t alone, which Amren had already deduced. Alec sat with his legs around a young girl’s torso, his knees pressed painfully into her ribs. They were a tangle of brown limbs, the girl fighting to get free and Alec struggling to get his hands on her wings.

Her wings… They laid tucked in tight to the girl’s body, and probably crushed under the weight of two immortal Illryians. She didn’t seem to have enough energy to keep them out of his reach, though, because Amren could see the scratches and bruises that decorated the sensitive black material from where they peeked out from behind her.

Amren analyzed all of this in about three seconds before her power lashed out against Alec, pinning him to a nearby birch. The skinny tree trembled from having a strong Illryian like Alec slammed against it. She had him dangling, his stocky legs not touching the ground. Alec’s breath rasped with fear as Amren came closer.

Amren looked at him and before he could even assess the situation, the air was sucked out of his lungs. He choked up, hands attempting to reach for his throat but to no avail.

Amren made sure to be slow, and very, very thorough. She gave him back a gasp of air and he swallowed it up, catching his breath for a second before she ripped it back out, not allowed him to properly breath. She allowed small amounts of air, then stole them back before he could enjoy it. Enough that he would live long enough for her to enjoy this. And, of course, for him to learn his lesson.

Silver eyes slided to where the girl lay, too caught up in the pain from her wings to care about Alec’s. Especially when he had tried to take her wings. Amren contemplated using her own version of what High Lords called Misting to get rid of Alec, but she didn’t think he deserved even the sweet kiss of death. She hoped he’d suffer for eternity, hoped they all would for treating these women like this.

All of the air rushed into Alec and he wasn’t used to it after so many solid minutes of the torture that it all went to his head and so he fell, his eyes rolling back to look at the inside of his skull. Amren did not cushion his fall, but she did spit on him before setting her sight on the girl behind her.

It was the first time Amren had really gotten to look at the girl, and she shortly realized she wasn’t a girl at all but a young woman. And she still had her wings, though shredded, she had them…

“How old are you?” Amren wasn’t going to pretend she was kind and warm, but she was curious.

“Twenty,” the girl rasped out, her tear-stained cheeks shining under the moonlight.

Faint amusement filled Amren’s eyes. “What of your wings?”

“I did…” She caught her breath from the sobs that once shook her frame, then continued, “I did everything I could. Starved myself, gathered illegal herbs. It delayed my bleeding… my brother spared me for some time, but Alec was growing impatient.”

“Alec was your brother?” Amren, an immortal at least five thousand years old, older than even the foundations of Prythian, actually felt bile rise in her throat. The fact that Alec had made his own sister endure this… “What is your name?”

“Aliya.” Her eyes scanned the rest of her body in a quick sweep. Aliya’s skin was identical to her piece of garbage brother - a nice bronzed shade of golden brown. Her eyes were blurred between an olive and a shade of hazel, her eyelashes long enough to graze her brow bone if she widened her eyes enough. Amren ignored the twigs scattered into her tousled, deep cocoa-colored hair. With a heave, she swiftly leaned down and took Aliya’s slim frame into her arms.

Amren ignored her weak protests, knowing that if she didn’t get her some help, she’d bleed out in these woods or even worse, last long enough for her brother to wake up. Aliya stayed quiet for the first few minutes Amren had begun her walk back home, but eventually, Amren heard her breathing even out as she passed out on her shoulder.

Considering Amren had made her way all the way to the top of the mountain, the journey back to the Illryian war camp took a good thirty minutes. She was sure she looked like Hell as she entered the camp, Cassian immediately finding her from where he always waited to take her back home. A silent question crossed his features as he took in Aliya lying limp in her arms. It didn’t take a fool to get a grip of the scene before him.

“Mother’s tits,” Cassian cursed, jogging up to Amren and pushing her behind one of the cabins, his wings flaring behind him to shield them from the watchful eyes.

“The camp leader won’t like this, Amren, you know that.” Cassian sighed, running a calloused hand through his shoulder-length hair.

“Are you going to stop me?” She bit, her silver eyes glinting viciously.

Cassian shook his head, but still took Aliya into his arms. “You’re insufferable sometimes. I’ll come back for you, so sit tight for a bit.”

Without another word, Cassian took off into the night sky, no larger than the size of a pupil within seconds.

Aliya lay in Amren’s bed, her wings spread out behind her - absolutely drenched in blood.

From where Amren sat beside her on a chair as she soaked cloth in warm water, she could see the scratches and rips in the thick membrane. There wasn’t any serious damage, from what she could tell, but she would have to have Azriel over to make sure.

Amren didn’t even know why she had brought her to her house in Velaris. She was risking much, as Rhys had almost blown her eardrums out earlier to make sure she didn’t mess up. She thought that maybe this newfound sympathy for the broken Illryian girl in front of her was a result of knowing what she had been through - what she had lived with her whole life.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t quite explain it yet, but she wasn’t one to distrust their instinct. She’d been alive long enough to trust herself and her actions.

So Amren, gripped her stool and shuffled forward, the chair screeching against the floor in protest. Amren pressed the cloth she’d been working on against the rough skin of Aliya’s wing, making sure not to press too hard or rub at all. Illryians were quite sensitive when it came to their wings.

Aside from small twitches and unconscious gasps, Aliya didn’t show too much discomfort as Amren worked the cloth on the rest of the wing. The dirt she’d wiped off began turning the old t-shirt a murky brown color.

To clean one wing alone took far too long, but Amren had learned the art of patience a long time ago. She had yet to scrub the underside of the massive things, and she didn’t plan on it - not when Aliya kept jolting and stirring.

With a deep huff, Amren situated herself on the opposite side of the bed and got to work on the right wing. She had started the stroke the wing with the newly washed cloth, only for Aliya to let out a sound that had Amren choking on her own, traitorous air.

She continued to sputter as Aliya mumbled in her sleep, so deep she hadn’t awoken the entire time. Amren didn’t think she was breathing for the rest of the night.

The next morning arrived, and Amren was told to go to the House of Wind immediately. She let at the crack of dawn, not having time to tell Aliya about her whereabouts. It would be hours before Aliya finally opened her eyes.

Aliya had woken up quite late, and immediately noticed Amren’s absence. She walked around the small apartment for a while, before her boredom struck her and she got a bit curious. She ran her fingers over the edges of the dusty bookshelf, reading the other foreign language that seemed to cover all the leather covered books.

With a shaky hand, she picked out one the leathery books. She knew that what she was doing was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

An ornate dagger clattered on the ground as she pulled the book out. Jumping back in surprise, Aliya crouched down and picked up the sharp blade. She examined the dagger head, her eyebrows furrowing in curiosity, trying to analyze the golden-lined symbols that decorated the handle.

She set the blade aside, resting it beside a candle that sat atop the ancient bookshelf. She turned her attention back to the book in her hand, practically begging to be opened and analyzed.

She ran her finger over the golden lettering on the cover. Sitting down, she flipped through the red stained pages. What seemed like hours were spent flipping through the book and having no idea what she was looking at.

The wooden door creaked open and Aliya snapped her head up to find a grimey Amren leaning against the door frame. All amusement faded from her eyes as she dropped the papers she was holding from one hand and the dagger in the other. A slight grin painted across Amren’s face as she took a few painfully slow steps to close their distance.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Amren crooned as she jutted her hip out.

[mixeddoctor]

Palpitations

It’s 950 am. I went to bed close to 2 am which because of daylight savings time endings was more like 3 am. I woke up without an alarm. I am wide awake. All these things on any given day I would consider a wonderful start to my day and be proud that it started this way, but not today. 

Today was the first time in a long time that I had a nightmare I could remember and that physically caused me to wake up in a panic. Like my heart was racing so fast that after calming down with the 3 main exercises that my therapist told me, my heart rate was still at around 80 bpm. My heart rate is usually in the 60s. I didn’t even realize that I was so hot and my legs were sweating. I started stripping down because I was burning up. 

As time has progressed, my nightmares have become less specific and most of the time I don’t remember them, I just get this terrible feeling when I wake up so I know I had a nightmare. I would say it’s been a few weeks since I had one, and especially since I had one that I could remember and that was so vivid. 

I thought I was maybe stronger than this and that I was calmer than this but ... guess some background would be appropriate here. The night before last I got a text message from him. Which I know anyone would be like, “wait...didn’t you block him?”. So I did. But when he was in town the last time, I unblocked his number and his roommate’s number figuring that if he got drunk and started texting me before he maybe tried to come over or anything like that I would have a heads up. Well he didn’t. And I had completely forgotten to reblock them. So this message comes through and I start trippin. Like why would he send me anything? How did he know it would go through? Did he not expect it to go through-has he been writing ghost texts like I’ve been writing ghost emails? I immediately sent screenshots of the screen with his name and then the message screen with his message preview on there to my 3 closest friends who know. One of them said “Like what thee actual fuck?!” which is pretty much how I felt. 

Anyway, the message itself was a link to something on Netflix (that I obviously did not click on but opened because I needed to know if he was sending me any dangerous messages here). So one of the 3 that I sent it to actually recognized the film because the film is from India and she straight up starts telling me how twisted he is. The movie is about 2 best friends who fell in love in college and either break up or never get together, live separate lives with significant others, the chick gets married, eventually her husband dies, and then eventually the best friends end up together a lot later on in life. WHAT?!?!?!?! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!!! He thinks there’s a chance we will be in each other’s lives again! My friend who knew the video said that he’s obviously not over it, obviously it’s still on his mind, and that he’s delusional about the whole situation and the role he played. All of them at this point seem on a lot higher alert with the prospect of me and homeboy running into each other at the conference at the end of the month. I thought, if I’m honest, that I was okay. That I’ve made so many contingency plans and stay safe plans that I felt safe. I’ve been able to go to bed fine with the exercises so again, I thought I was good. 

But all my fears I guess were so stuck in my subconscious that I dreamt about them. The dream. I was somewhere where there were a lot of people that I knew. Where I was supposed to be doing something (exactly what I no longer remember). I’m there and to some extent I’m aware that he could potentially find me. But I’m kind of hiding out with friends. As in I’m hiding but they’re not. There’s something that we all have to do together like a project but again what that is, I don’t remember. But I do remember him finding me in a corner. And coming from behind me and groping me all over while saying something to the effect that we are back together again (not as in in a relationship because we never were but the way this is phrased, I realize that’s what it sounds like so for clarification’s sake again, no we never were in a romantic relationship) and that he won’t be letting me go and kind of like he’s watching me. I remember feeling helpless. I remember feeling disgusted that he would touch me let alone grope me the way he was. Just writing it makes me feel a little sick about it. 

So in this dream I’m in high alert obviously, and I forgot exactly why I was like arguing with this girl and then convinced her to be nice to me enough that she stopped arguing with me once we got outside. And once I was outside I was asking about timing. Like what time it was because He was going to come get me at a certain time, or be free to come find me again. Somewhere earlier in the dream a friend of my mom tells me I can borrow her car and I find the keys and start watching every entrance hoping he is not looking for me but still distracted inside. I find her silver Saturn (which is not her actual car in real life) and I get the keys, and get in. Somehow my mom comes out of the building and is waving at me and I have to like duck and hide because I told her I didn’t obviously want to be found by him. She gives me this stack of papers on what to do if he tries to rape me again and then disappears and I take the car and begin driving off trying to decide where I was going to go- deeper into VA, MD, or DC. I remember at the time thinking about going to my friend’s house who lives in DC after going to the Library of Congress because I figured DC was such a busy city that he would never find me but that it might also be in my best interest to get farther away. Sooooooo yeah. That was the nightmare I just woke up from. 

I really thought I wasn’t scared but maybe I’m more scared than I thought. Diaphoresis, tachypnea, tachycardia... not a good look. I don’t think I’ve ever felt palpitations like that while not moving at all. It is completely scary. I’m not sure how to deal with this now. Honestly I need another solid hour of sleep, but at this point I’m afraid of my own mind. I’m not sure. Am I just not admitting to myself how scared I actually am? Am I trying to convince myself of my own strength so much that my mind has to give me a reality check? I mean let’s be real, that dream could have gone 1028428579872309 ways to the left but should I take it as a good sign that I got out of there? And woke up, so not trapped in the dream? Am I really this afraid?

[hello-from-nrc-infirmary]

I'm umm... glad you're okay...

*Koa follows them, letting that portal close before opening a new one directly to Silver's dorm. Vern winces from it this time, a few more green strands fade to gray*

I.. would it um... be best for your social battery if I umm... went to my dorm?

Pam? Where are the um... mandrake leaves?

(Oh, uh... I think the last of them were used when you were sleeping that illness off the other day)

I'll umm.. go see about getting some extra from the alchemy lab. Remember to um... quite it down next time

(Okay! Take your lunch, too!)

*Vern nods as he leaves the infirmary. He's behind on several tasks today, so perhaps he will stop by Sam's or see if he can grab something light to go in the cafeteria. The sun is warm and welcoming today.*

*his phone rings a familiar tone. Vern's stomach drops as he takes a breath before answering*

Hello...

Hey, Sweetheart. A little birdie came back.. anything you want to tell me?

*Vern visibly pales, unable to make a sound*

Mmm... there will be a meeting tomorrow, mandatory for founders. I'll see you there.

*Vern's stomach churns, even as the call is ended. He... will need some more magic stored up. Taking an unsteady breath, he quickly types, deletes, retypes, and sends a text to Silver*

Text: "Aster... something came up and I won't be around campus tonight or tomorrow"

*it's vague, but he hopes it won't worry Silver too much... Skipping lunch, he sends a crocus back to Pam with some spare mandrake leaves, and hurries of to go pack a few things. He'll have to take Koa*

@aurora-retainer-silver