#I never gave the pink one to rose. I never saw her again either

[dirtytransmasc]

its so weird thinking about childhood best friends you don't know anymore. like. the girl and her siblings who lived next door for year, who I used to considered my sister, who now looking back on it was probably my first crush ever, who swore we would grow up together, who was only 'visiting' her family for a month, turns out her parents lied to us, I never saw her again. the girls I went to summer to summer camp with every year and now I can barely remember there faces.

like. how are they doing?

I still can't conceptualize that these people who mattered *so* much to me are just... gone... chances are that I will never see them again, especially my best friend who's back in Pakistan, and even if I did, so much time has passed that I would most likely not recognize them even if I did see them.

[bumblesimagines]

Our Flickering Light

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"You ever been this far from home?" 

"Ellie."

"What? I'm just asking!" 

There was something humorous in the way Ellie and Joel treated each other. The exasperation that weighed heavy on Joel's face whenever she so much as opened her mouth and the smugness that twinkled in her eyes when she saw Joel roll his eyes or purse his lips in annoyance. (Y/N) couldn't blame him much. The moment Lincoln had disappeared out of view, Ellie had leaned forward and shoved herself between the two seats, firing off question after question. For a girl with the fate of the world resting solely on her shoulders, she sure had a lot of energy and excitement. (Y/N) wondered if he'd been like her back then. Full of curiosity and awe.

"It's fine, Joel." (Y/N) dismissed with a soft chuckle and a wave of his hand. Joel glanced at him, furrowed brows full of uncertainty and even a hint of a warning of what was to come if he gave Ellie the green light to ask questions. (Y/N) smiled at the older man and Joel looked back at the road, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. He gave a small nod and Ellie beamed, once again wedging herself between the seats and making Joel click his tongue in disapproval. 

"So, have you?" Ellie asked, her dark brown eyes wide and full of barely contained curiosity. 

"I wasn't born in Lincoln, Ellie." (Y/N) chuckled at the quiet 'oh' that fell from her lips and her cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment, one finger lifting to sheepishly scratch the side of her head. "My mom and I were originally from Frederick, Maryland. We were able to get to the Baltimore QZ before it began turning people away. It's how we met Frank. We stayed there for a good... Jesus, I don't know, four or five years?" 

"Why'd you leave?" Ellie blinked and cocked her head to the side, loose strands of her hair swaying over her pale skin. (Y/N) noticed Joel glance over Ellie's head, just as curious as the girl he'd previously scolded. (Y/N) exhaled through his nose and gazed back out to the long road ahead.

"It fell. None of us really knew why, but Frank said the day before it happened there'd been rumors about a breach in one of the walls that FEDRA couldn't be bothered to fix. The next day the QZ was in utter chaos. People were either panicking, stealing, getting trampled, or getting shot down by soldiers. Frank and his neighbor, Kelly, got us and we fled the QZ with a few other survivors." (Y/N) explained solemnly, the screams of citizens attempting to find safety still ringing as clear as day in his ears. "We traveled a week by foot trying to get to Boston since THE Philadelphia QZ only lasted two years and they were never able to clear any part of New York City to get one set up. We were a group of ten but by the time we got to Lincoln, it was only Frank, my mom, and me."

"Wait, so, you could've been in Boston with us? And you were born before the outbreak? But you look so young!" Ellie gaped at him and Joel snorted quietly, the muscles on his face straining to keep him from smiling at her words. 

"I'm only twenty-nine, Ellie." (Y/N) laughed and her eyes widened further. "I was nine when the outbreak happened."

(Y/N) watched the teen boys bounce the basketball around in the road, their laughter echoing down the street and mixing in with the distant sound of honking. His mother stood by the dining room table with her phone in hand and pressed against her ear, reciting the address to the pizza place staff member. Her other hand ran circles around the barely there bump and her attention jumped between answering questions and looking at the clock. 

"Can I go outside?" (Y/N) asked into his folded arms, his legs beginning to ache from standing at the window for so long. The basketball slammed into the board and bounced off the rim of the basket. A chorus of groans and laughter followed. "I'll stay in the driveway."

"It's dark out, sweets. Those boys will be heading to bed soon, anyway." Rose said as she set her phone on the dining table and approached him, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder. She smiled warmly down at him. "I'm sure if you ask Jonah tomorrow, he'll teach you how to play, alright?"

"Okay." (Y/N) sighed. "When is Brent-"

There was a sudden, distant explosion outside, close and loud enough to make the windows in the house shake and set off car alarms throughout the neighborhood. The neighborhood boys outside shouted and screamed in surprise, their long game of basketball abruptly forgotten in favor of turning around to watch a firey cloud rise into the air. Rose instinctively brought (Y/N) closer to her and grabbed the curtain to tug it further from the window. 

"Oh, my god," She whispered and took his hand, clutching it tightly as they left the kitchen and opened the front door, stepping out onto their porch. (Y/N) could hear the porch swing still creaking from the force of the explosion and he leaned into the skirt of his mother's dress, peeking out from behind her legs. "Jonah, Tyler, you boys okay?! The rest of you need to get home right now!" 

"Was that the gas station?" Jonah asked, holding his basketball tight to his chest as the rest of his friends scrambled to collect their things and call home. Tyler wasted no time in running across the street to his house and quickly heading inside the small house while his aunt's car blared in the driveway. 

"You boys get to your parents, now!" A new, deeper voice boomed from next door and (Y/N) peered around his mother to look at their next-door neighbor, an intimidating veteran whom Brent enjoyed calling a 'hermit'. (Y/N) hardly ever heard him speak seeing as the man, Steven, spent most of his time out hunting or locked away in his run-down, unkept house. Steven turned to them, his white tank top soaked in sweat, and he hurried down his creaky porch steps to approach them. 

"Steven, what's going on?"

"Rose, sweetheart, get your boy and pack some things, alright? There was a national alert on the radio-" Another explosion, one closer to the city. 

(Y/N)'s body began to tremble and he clung tighter on his mother. Rose spun on her heel and hauled (Y/N) up into her arms, everything in his sight becoming a dark blur of their familiar living room and hallway. She set him down in front of his bedroom door and hurried inside, her swift hands snatching his school backpack from the floor and turning it upside down so everything inside clattered to the floor. She grabbed fistfuls of clothes from shirts, pants, and underwear before stuffing the free pockets of small books and toys. 

"Here, baby, here." Rose returned to him and he stuck his arms through the gaps, feeling the straps weighing heavily down on his shoulders. (Y/N) watched her head down to hers and Brent's shared bedroom and heard her rummage through things as she'd done in his bedroom. Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of his pajamas. He faced his bedroom again and approached his toy box, lifting the top open and sorting through his toys until he found Mr. Flops, his old favorite stuffed bunny that he'd hidden away after hearing some boys make fun of Gracie in class for still having a teddy bear. 

"(Y/N), sweets, come on." His mother stood in the doorway with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She extended her hand out toward him and smiled encouragingly, wiggling her fingers until he took her hand again. Rose moved down the hallway again and reached the front door before stopping to scribble something down on the notepad she kept by the key holder. (Y/N) tightened his grip on her palm when they stepped outside and spotted Steven hauling some things into the back of his truck. 

"Hurry, Rose!" He called and (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight of the shotgun strapped to his shoulder. Rose sighed quietly, locking the front door and gliding down the steps with her son in tow. She took the two bags and squeezed them into the small backseat, ensuring they'd remain still and not squish (Y/N) at any rapid turn during the ride.

"Where are we going?" He asked tentatively and peered up at his mother.

"I-"

"Shit," Steven hissed, and (Y/N) turned around to see Tyler rushing out of his house only to trip on the last step and fall into the grass by the driveway. His aunt staggered out of the house after him, her body movements jerky and weird, both limp and stiff. Tyler scrambled on the grass that had been wet by the sprinklers only minutes before the first explosion, the slippery grass preventing him from getting back on his feet. "Get in the truck, now."

"It's just Becca, Steven," Rose said breathlessly, her hands reaching out toward her son to pull him close. 

"No, sweetheart," Steven sighed and lifted the shotgun, pointing it directly in Mrs. Gorman's direction. His finger slipped over the trigger. "That's not her anymore."

"What happened to Steven?" Ellie asked gently, her head fully propped up on her fist as she stared at him, completely engrossed by the story. A grimace had appeared on Joel's face toward the end, an all too knowing look passing over his dark eyes. The panic, confusion, the way the world turned upside down in a matter of hours... it was something the new generation of children like Ellie never got to experience. Instead of knowing the joy of running around freely, of visiting different cities and states. All they knew was the fear and death that followed.

"I don't know," (Y/N) admitted softly. "But knowing him... he's probably still around trying to help people."

"I bet he and Joel would've been buds," Ellie said, slumping back in her seat and wiggling closer to the window, propping one arm along it and staring out at the passing scenery. (Y/N) exhaled in amusement and glanced at Joel when the older man rolled his eyes, still as silent as always. What a pair they made. A young chatterbox and an older man who could spend days without speaking. But it was part of his charm, in a way. Silent but always observing, always watching over everyone. 

"Looks like a gas station up ahead," Joel murmured gruffly, pointing out the tall sign in the distance. (Y/N) could see abandoned cars scattered around, many of them long overtaken by nature. The station itself appeared in similar conditions, worn down and overgrown. No sign of infected around. "We'll pull over for a little while and get some gas. Use the bathroom if you have to. We ain't stoppin' until we need to again, alright?"

"Yep." Ellie sighed, reaching for her backpack and slipping her arms through the straps.

Slowly pulling over and stopping the truck, the three hopped out of the truck and surveyed their surroundings. Joel cautiously stepped forward, fingers tightly wrapped around his pistol and his head on a swivel, turning sharply whenever he heard the faintest sounds. (Y/N) shifted around the strap of his sniper rifle and walked toward the gas station, hearing the soft patter of Ellie following after him. He pushed the dirty glass door open and peeked inside, waiting for movement or noise before stepping inside fully and looking around the store. It appeared largely empty and scarce, anything still up on the shelves or fallen on the ground either rotten or useless. 

(Y/N) headed further into the store and purposefully kicked a can, listening to it rattle against the tile floor and fall into silence once it hit the wall. Nothing. No sound of any animals scurrying to hide, no infected crawling out from the darkness. For safe measure, he checked each room, only finding a long-decayed corpse in the storage closet and a caved-in bathroom. With no urge to release his bladder, he turned toward Ellie and smiled. "Seems safe enough. If you need to go, go ahead. Holler if you need or see anything, 'kay?"

"Gotcha." Ellie nodded and returned the smile, sliding the backpack off her shoulders and walking further into the bathroom. She set her backpack on the sink and glanced at him as he turned to leave. "Good luck with Joel." She told him with a playful grin and unzipped her backpack.

Chuckling, (Y/N) nodded and headed back into the store, checking behind the register for anything they'd need before leaving the store completely and heading toward Joel who'd taken it upon himself to siphon gas from the old cars. (Y/N) adjusted the rifle's strap again so it hung at his side instead of his chest and squinted through the glaring sun to watch Joel work. "Ellie's using the bathroom." He informed him, hearing a soft hum of acknowledgment. 

"(Y/N)..." Joel began with a heavy sigh, pushing himself off his knee and picking up the gas canister from the ground. His lips pressed together, his tilted toward the ground as his brows furrowed once more. "I'm... I'm real sorry about your folks. They were good people." 

"And so was Tess." (Y/N) added softly and Joel's features hardened into a grimace, his head turning away from him and his chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh. He made no move to respond or even acknowledge her but (Y/N) could see the pain etched all over his face. He could see the sorrow and pain Joel fought desperately to swallow down and ignore until it faded. "She had a good heart."

"Yeah." Joel forced out and inhaled sharply, his grip on the canister tightening. (Y/N) stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Joel's shoulder, feeling the man tense at his touch and become rigidly motionless. He could only feel Joel's chest moving with each quiet breath until, after a minute of nothing, his arm moved, sliding around (Y/N)'s body loosely at first before tightening with every emotion Joel had long buried under his hardened exterior. His forearm pushed against (Y/N)'s back, pressing them tightly together as Joel buried his face into the crook of (Y/N)'s neck. In a soft, muffled yet pained voice, he spoke, "I miss her."

"Frank used to say that you honor people by living for them... by living because of them. Who else will keep their memory alive is not us, Joel?" (Y/N) told him gently, rubbing his fingertips into Joel's shoulders.

"You are..." Joel interrupted himself with a soft chuckle as he leaned back, "Far too young to be sounding so old."

"I can't help it." (Y/N) smiled, dropping his arms from Joel's shoulders and crossing them over his chest. "You should've seen the books Bill and Frank had me reading." 

"Yeah, I bet half of it was some crazy conspiracy shit." Joel snorted, his shoulders lightly shaking and a rare genuine smile spreading across his face. He had a breathy sort of withheld laugh, one that made him wonder how it'd sound when he found something especially funny, and the type of smile that made wrinkles form around his eyes. 

"You have a pretty smile, Joel. You should do it more often." (Y/N) complimented, running his hand over Joel's bicep affectionately before dropping his hand to his side and turning around. He approached the next car down the line, dipping his arm in through the window of the car and popping open the flap. He wiped his hand clean of dust and dirt with his pant leg before unscrewing the cap for Joel. He stepped aside, finally taking note of the still man. "Joel?"

Joel blinked, gaze darting over to him and flickering toward the flap. "Right. Thanks." He cleared his throat, long legs moving toward the car. He kneeled down beside it, glancing up briefly when Ellie stepped out of the store and began walking toward them. She stood beside (Y/N) and looked down at Joel, watching him begin the siphoning process. 

"We have to do this every hour?" Ellie questioned, one brow arching questioningly. It was easy to forget she hadn't been alive when cars were driven freely down the street instead of armored vehicles or tanks. She hadn't even known how to put a seatbelt on.

"Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water." Joel explained. "Back in the day, we'd drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

"So where'd you go?"

"Pretty much nowhere," Joel inhaled deeply, releasing that air into the tube. A few seconds later, gasoline poured into the other tube and down into the canister. Ellie blinked and perked up, that familiar curious twinkle appearing in her eyes again as she leaned her head forward to get a closer look.

"How does that work?" She asked, taking another step closer. 

"It's a siphon," Joel answered, looking up at her and being met with a blank stare. "It's when... liquid travels against gravity... because pressure-"

"You don't know," Ellie stated simply and giggled when Joel shot her a look. Sticking her hands in her pockets and spinning around to face (Y/N), she tilted her head. "Do you know, (Y/N)?"

The man in question blew a raspberry and shrugged. "Uh... Billy taught me how to do it once a long time ago. Something about gravity, pressure, and elevation. I was like fifteen. I didn't really get much of it but I think Joel was on the right track, actually."

"Exactly." Joel raised his brows at Ellie, almost sassily in fact, and turned his attention back to the tubes. Without having to look up at Ellie to see her expression, he spoke again. "No wondering."

Ellie clicked her tongue and tilted her head up toward the sky, lips pursing defiantly but her feet remained planted on the ground. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, his eyes catching the wicked grin that sprung out on Ellie's face. She lowered her head and slipped her backpack off, placing her backpack on the hood of the next car with a soft thump. "This is your fault, then." Ellie laughed mischievously and tugged a book free from her backpack.

"Uh-oh." (Y/N) laughed, and then laughed again when Joel's face fell into disbelief and misery. Ellie proudly held No Pun Intended: Volume Too in her hands and loudly cleared her throat as she tossed the pages open. (Y/N) dug his teeth into his bottom lip, a few giggles escaping him as he awaited to hear stupidly cheesy puns and watch Joel's misery intensify. 

"'It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.' " (Y/N) snorted at Joel's silence. "No Pun Intended: Volume Too by Will Livington. Volume too, you get it? Too? Like, t-o-o?"

"Jesus." Joel exhaled heavily, staggering up onto his feet as giggles left Ellie. 

"'What did the mermaid wear to her math class?'" Ellie looked up from the book at Joel, a slow grin spreading across her face. "'An algae bra!' Get it? Like algebra?" 

It took another horrible pun and a burst of giggles for Joel to tell Ellie to wait in the truck while he finished getting gas. The satisfied look on her face and the mischievous smirk spoke volumes as she headed for the truck with a skip to her step. After a few more minutes, the canister was full with gas and the two men returned to the car. (Y/N) climbed back into the passenger seat, setting his rifle between his legs alongside his backpack, while Joel filled the gas tank and set the canister in the back.  The truck rumbled to life and Joel drove them back out onto the road where lines of cars had been forced out onto the edges of the road. 

"Must've been some truck," Ellie said, propped up on her knees to watch the cars they passed by. 

"Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on 'em and clear the roads for their tanks and such," Joel explained grimly, glancing at the cars until the lines ended.

(Y/N) stared out into the vast emptiness around them, a stark difference from the forests he'd grown up around. He felt Ellie fiddling around in the backseat, searching around until she pulled out a cassette tape and had Joel insert it, an old country song pouring out from the speakers that (Y/N) vaguely recognized. Ellie continued her search and (Y/N) noticed her dip suddenly behind his seat, the sound of papers crinkling filling his ears. 

"Got somethin' else. It's, uh, light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures-" 

"No, no, no. Put that back." Joel demanded and (Y/N) shifted in his seat, immediately spotting the athletically built shirtless model on the cover. His face immediately heated up and he turned back around, covering his mouth to stifle the embarrassed laughter that left him. "Ellie- Ellie, that is not for kids."

"Oh, my god. I didn't need to see that." (Y/N) whispered. "Throw that away, Ellie. It- It's not for your eyes-"

"Hold your horses! I wanna see what all the fuss is about!" Ellie laughed, continuing to flip through the pages. "Why are all these pages stuck together?"

"Ellie." 

"I'm just fuckin' with ya." Ellie giggled, smacking Joel's shoulder with the magazine before lowering the window and tossing it out into the wind. She slumped back in her seat and rolled the window back up, more laughter escaping her lips until the sights they passed captured her attention. 

They continued driving down the countryside, passing by a multitude of things. From a bison herd to an old overgrown rollercoaster, they drove until the countryside faded into lush forests and roads slowly overgrown with foliage that led to formerly populated areas. They stopped for gas one more time, listening to a few more puns from Ellie that had Joel contemplating his life and (Y/N) cracking up before hitting the road again. (Y/N) enjoyed looking out the window and imagining what the towns must've looked like before nature retook what was once hers. Of course, from time to time they'd pass old machinery where the army had attempted to fight back, whether against the infected or people, (Y/N) couldn't be sure but an uneasiness filled him whenever he spotted a tank or armored truck. 

"Alright, that's enough for today," Joel murmured, turning the truck onto a grassy field and into a thick forest with tall trees where they'd be hidden away from anyone passing by. He parked the truck once satisfied with the spot and got out, collecting the small stove and setting it down on the ground while Ellie explored their camping spot for the night. 

Stirring around the contents from a Chef Boyardee can, (Y/N) poured even servings into three plates and sat back against a mossy rock to eat. For an expired can of ravioli, it surprisingly still tasted good, though his thoughts drifted back to Bill's cooking. He pushed around the ravioli with his fork, idly listening to Ellie and Joel chat about their meal and plans. He couldn't help but think about them, about their last days spent together, about the short and sweet wedding. The urge to eat numbed quickly.

"Here, Ellie." (Y/N) murmured, scraping the remainder of his meal onto her plate and wiping his plate clean to use another time. (Y/N) stood up from the rock and tucked the plate and utensils away. He could feel Joel's stare burning a hole into his back and gave the man a smile to soften his worry. It hardly helped so (Y/N) focused on getting their sleeping bags out of the truck as the sky above them began to darken with night fast approaching. 

With two lanterns, he sat one down between Ellie and Joel's sleeping bags and took the last one for himself. "I'll keep watch." He told them, slipping the rifle strap around his shoulder and patting Ellie's head as she lowered down to wiggle into her sleeping bag. She swatted playfully at his hand and chuckled, pulling the pun book and a flashlight out of her backpack before using it as a pillow. Joel glanced at him and stiffly nodded, settling into his own sleeping bag and watching him walk a few feet away. 

(Y/N) leaned back against a tree trunk and set his lantern down by his feet, taking the strap off his shoulder and holding the rifle. His eyes trailed down the gun until they found the words engraved just above the trigger. B&F. His thumb ran over the rough letters, pressing into them until they left an imprint on his skin. He took a deep breath and raised his head, scanning the area around him. With everything falling into darkness, he was left to depend on his hearing for any sign of something amiss. But all he heard was the rustling of leaves above him and the occasional call of an owl. Fabric rustled behind him and the light from Ellie and Joel's lantern faded, leaving him with his thoughts while they dozed off into slumber.

About twenty minutes passed before he heard the fabric rustling again and peered over his shoulder to see Joel's dark figure getting up. Likely off to use the bathroom, he assumed and looked forward again, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the letters. His teeth nibbled lightly on his bottom lip and he could feel hunger slowly creep in, poking around as it made its presence known. A twig behind him snapped and he turned, finding Joel approaching him. 

"You should be sleeping."

"And you should've eaten." Joel lifted his brows and took his wrist, placing two granola bars and an apple in his hand. He nodded to them and carefully took the gun from him, surveying the area in a glance before looking back at him. "Eat. I'll keep watch 'til you're done."

"Joel-"

"Eat." Joel urged gently, a surprisingly soft look falling over his features. "I have to take care of you, too, alright? Stop actin' stubborn and eat."

[riddles-n-games]

OUABH Drabble #3: Oh Deer!

"Jacks!"

"In here." She followed the sound of his voice, entering the dining room swiftly. Evangeline was out of breath, sweaty, her heart pounding hard and legs burning from the long run back to the Hollow. After all, the situation was urgent. 

    “What’s wrong, Little Fox? You sound out of breath. Were you that desperate to see-” Jacks turned towards her, teasing but then breaking off when he saw her. He zoned in on what she held in her arms. 

    Cradled against her chest was a tiny fawn. He frowned. “I thought we said no more pets?” 

    Evangeline stopped panting. “That’s not what- Do you know what this is?”

    “A deer, perhaps an unusual one due to its color which could compromise this individual’s chances of survival but a deer nonetheless.” She rolled her eyes, sighing exasperatedly.

    “Hey, why are you getting huffy? You asked a question and I gave you an answer.”

    “Not what I meant. Try again; take a closer look. Really look.” Jacks then rolled his eyes and shook his head. The things I do just to indulge you, Little Fox. But he did as he was told.

    The fawn had a snow white coat dotted with golden spots but perhaps what was more peculiar was that it had wings and a feathered tail. The wings were white, highlighted with a pinkish sheen and the tips ended in a soft rose blush.

    “Do you see what I mean now?” 

    “Yes, but I don’t see what exactly I’m supposed to be getting from this.” 

    Evangeline groaned. “It’s a peryton! One of the North’s most well recognized magical creatures. You’re from here, have you never encountered one of these before?”

    Jacks shrugged and thought for a moment. “Hmm, I may have hunted them in the past.”

    She glared and he chuckled. “Relax, I wasn’t actively looking for those. If memory serves, I was only ever contracted to catch them because they were to be pets or for breeding.”

    “Okay, well now that that’s out of the way; it’s injured.” Evangeline shifted her hold, freeing a hand and as she gently grabbed the fawn’s leg, he noticed her palm was bloody. That’s when the fawn bleated just as she started stretching its limb and Jacks caught sight of the injury; one of its back legs was bloodied with a gash in it, either the result of a predator’s bite or the doings of a hunter’s trap.

    “So, I assume you brought it back here to play nursemaid or rather, for me to play nursemaid.” She frowned at him again. “What, is it not true? This seems to happen every time a new creature pops up here; courtesy of you being some sort of woodland princess that all pests bow down to.”

    “Jacks…” 

    “I’m not wrong, Little Fox. Usually I’m not and this isn’t any different. How many pets do we have as a result?”

    “You’re not playing fair. Those were adult animals capable of their own decisions. This one is a baby that was hiding in the grass, likely waiting for its mother to return and unfortunately got hurt due to a trap,” Evangeline scowled at the last word. She never did like hunts and yet her beloved was an archer; irony often spun her fairytale and not the story curse. 

Jacks sighed. “Alright, go get the bandages and the medical kit. I’ll take the fawn and bring it to the lounge.” Her face lit up instantly with a bright smile as she carefully deposited the fawn into his outstretched arms. She kissed his cheek before turning to leave. “Thank you, Jacks!” 

    He called after her as she left the room, “Just remember, you’re going to take it back to the forest after it heals.” 

    “Uh-huh! Yup!” That was the only reply he got but he was pretty sure it fell on deaf ears as he saw her pink hair disappear around the corner. He looked down at the tiny fluff ball which had already fallen asleep. Periwinkle sounds like a good name. 

    He huffed; he was soft. Ever since living at the Hollow again, he was losing his touch. Castor would never let him live this down. But he wasn’t really mad, after all, it was worth seeing her smile. Always.

[cloudbattrolls]

As Mayflies

This drabble is preceded by No Rest for the Wicked and followed by Drowned Sorrows.

Epsilo Volant | Fae Courts | Present Night

Ullane wore her way through the rock with more saltwater and steady patience, her eyes glowing softly. The dark gray stone melted like snow to make a passage just large enough for the two of them to pass, with only slightly more effort. The salt hissed at it, making it bubble a little with warm steam.

As they passed through the rough tunnel, it filled in behind them with layers of bone and warmth-trapping membrane. Epsilo tried to avoid looking back at them.

Despite how low the light from his companion’s eyes was, it had no problem casting her tunnel in moon-brightness.

Utterly bizarre. Nature should not work that way.

Yet this was no natural world.

Epsilo kept an eye on the yellowblood to ensure she didn’t overdo it as they went ever deeper.

He didn’t think Uryali would intentionally try to overwhelm her or take over her body - he needed her to get his descendants back - but that wasn’t to say he trusted the horrorterror.

By nature, he could not be relied on. Not as a full eldritch being.

He grimaced as he ducked his head and moved ever more downward into the rocky depths, thinking of Vallis. How was his best friend doing? 

He’d texted the purpleblood, warning him he would be gone for at least a week, but the violet knew very well it could be much longer if they got stuck here. Ullane was his only ticket back home, unless he survived to find an open gate back to the troll world.

Which was extremely unlikely. 

The entire reason they had to cross all four realms to begin with was because this damn prophet had barricaded himself behind them, his gate only accessible from the distant summer court. 

If only Uryali could get us there himself, Epsilo had grumbled.

Ullane had shaken her head fervently.

If he tried, he’d break the world. He might not succeed, either. He has great power, but no focus, no finesse. He struggles to wake enough to act.

Typical. This was why he’d never trusted the supernatural, ever since he’d been turned hyena against his will. Even more so after Vernrot’s terrors had possessed him.

Ironic that the Varzim ancestor had been the one to then set him free, to make him immune to further influence. 

Ullane stopped and he nearly ran into her, cursing softly as he stopped himself just in time.

“What -“ he started to ask, then he saw.

Orange light up ahead streaming into the tunnel, almost like dawn. Yet this light did not hurt his eyes, or make his skin start to burn.

It was almost pleasant.

So he scowled, knowing it couldn’t be trusted.

Ullane sniffed the air, for some odd reason. Then she went ‘ah.’

“They must have warned the others.” She said with amusement. “They’re waiting for us once we surface.”

“You can smell that?” He asked skeptically. “I can’t smell anything.” He said pointedly. He might not be shifted right now, but his nose was still better than an ordinary troll’s.

“We’re on the border between realms.” She murmured. “Look down.”

He heard a crackle, followed by rustling noises. 

The stone beneath his feet had begun to shift to…leaves, dried leaves, yet on the walls they were mere impressions in the stone.

The stone rustled, and a wind blew through the depths of the earth, warmer than any in the winter court.

“Uryali’s power.” She continued. “I can smell their magic, feel it on my skin. Autumn blooms and decays and turns.”

“So what do we do?” The werehyena asked. “Charge them? Try to sneak past?”

The wind blew again, and the hairs on the back of the violet’s neck rose. The light grew brighter. Closer, somehow. 

“Neither.” She said with a smile. “I kill them before they know what happened.” She said in a casual tone.

Epsilo gave the yellowblood a flat look, one he knew she could see even in the dim light of the tunnel.

She blinked.

“What?” She said. “They’re disease fae. They come back.”

A skittering, crawling noise. Her eyes flashed pink.

The violet looked around, head whipping back and forth, but saw nothing. 

“What’s your plan? How did you kill those winter fae before?” He said urgently.

The lowblood gave him a dry smile. “Pinkeye’s treated by lubricating eye drops. Saltwater helps wash out lungs suffering from pneumonia. Influenza’s adaptable, resilient; its genetics change often. Accelerated the changes so fast, the fae couldn’t hold a cohesive form any longer.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled. A quiet humming thrummed around them; he could feel it even in the stone beneath them, vibrating slightly through his boots. 

Ullane pressed her hands against the tunnel walls she’d carved out minutes ago. 

“Hold steady.” She said.

Epsilo braced himself not a moment too soon, for a ripple of music swept through the rock as easily as if it were water. Stone churned like liquid under his hands as the skittering became louder and claws began swiping through the stone at them, eyes bubbling in the rock.

He stumbled backward and shuddered, swearing as the entire tunnel shook and heaved, then -

The air was knocked out of the violet as he was rapidly thrust upward, painfully falling to his knees and clinging to the rock -

- the wood beneath his feet.

The cave was becoming a massive trunk, growing and splitting underneath him as he clung for dear life, shot through with stone veins but unmistakably alive. The air was drier here, tinged with leaf-mold and pollen, orange light now all around them as his head whipped back and forth, wavy hair flying in the rush of wind.

Yet his skin was not burned. 

Crashing noises came from below, wails and yelps, stranger warbling noises and piercing shrieks. 

Wild-eyed, the violet’s heart raced. The great plant kept growing, and as he looked down on the leaf-strewn forest floor - 

Fae. 

Some dead, corpses of all shapes and sizes prone on the ground, speared by sharp branches going clean through their bodies, sprung directly from the thick trunk. Their corpses rotted over and dissipated as he watched. 

A few survivors fled as fast as their legs and wings could carry them, rapidly disappearing in the other trees surrounding the one Ullane had grown.

Where was she?

Ullane, clinging to the same branch closer to its base, her eyes flickering with a struggle to stay conscious as the tree’s expansion slowed to a halt.

He hissed in frustration.

“Stop it!” He said, loud and stern. “Stop doing this to yourself! You have to be more careful, do you hear me? If you die, I die! I will not lose my life to your carelessness!” 

It was hard to not use her name, to not demand that Ullane Wistim listen to him, but he couldn’t; she’d said how dangerous it would be to even whisper them here. The fae realms lived and breathed names; they were the ultimate form of truth, an instant link to another being. The wind could carry one to any listening ears it found.

The yellowblood looked at him, eyes alight with pink, and opened her mouth…then slumped over against the trunk.

Epsilo put a hand to his face and took some deep breaths.

His gills, think of his gills, restored once he finally dragged this reckless woman to her goal.

Three courts left. First, they had to get through this one, without getting caught by the survivors or his companion melting herself into sludge, whichever came first.

He carefully crawled closer to her along the thick branch, looking at her with irritation and a biologist’s concern. 

Her horns…they were more black than they’d been before. Her claws had turned entirely that color. 

“Don’t you become a hybrid.” He muttered. “Don’t you dare. Vallis is enough, I need you to be troll, do you hear me? Uryali, do you hear me? You stop her from drawing on you so heavily, you damned starfish.”

The black bud on her hand now extended vines down her arm, raised scarification on her flesh that shifted on her skin just as the rest of it did. 

Why was she like this? Was it horrorterror influence?

It had to be, he supposed. The Ullane Wistim he had known sweeps ago - though not well - had never been this foolhardy. 

He flattened himself against the trunk as a hurled black stinger the size of his thumb buried itself where his leg had just been and crumpled against the stone-wood before bouncing off.

An insect-like whine - several - reached his ears and he dove off the trunk, knowing hitting a branch or the ground would be less lethal than what was in those stingers -

The tree caught him.

A branch coiled around him like a harness, protecting him and holding him in place. Others snaked through the air to lash at the small cloud of buzzing fae who shrieked and chittered in distress as it chased them through the dusk air.

How? She was -

- her eyes were shut, but Ullane stood with an arm against the trunk, grinning anyway.

He shuddered and the tree bloomed.

Dozens of violet-pink flowers with stony petals opened all over it, filling the air with a strangely chemical scent, and Epsilo sneezed as they poured out glimmering pollen.

The fae shook. Seized up. Dropped from the air, coughing, screeching…dying.

Laughter came from the yellowblood, but her mouth was still closed in a grin. 

The violet let out a long breath through gritted teeth as he was gently placed back beside her.

“I have no choice.” She murmured to him in late response, eyes open now. “With my own psiionics, I can adapt myself more to his power. I am becoming the best conduit possible. Everything else is secondary.”

She looked up into the orange-tinted sky, its clouds dark and distant, as if they too were keeping away from the terrible intruder.

“Let’s just go.” Epsilo said roughly. “As I recall, the next border is at the top of the tallest tree in the forest. How are we getting there without getting torn to shreds?” 

The branches that had speared the fae lifted, along with the ones that had swatted at the lingering swarm. They all slid across the trunk, joining together into one massive branch that flattened itself out, forming into a stone-wooden staircase through the air.

His eyes widened as it...drew branches from other trees it passed onto it to extend itself, going far enough that he couldn’t see the end of it.

Ullane smiled at him, satisfied, but leaned over a bit more.

“I should rest now.” She admitted. “Will you carry me?”

He sighed, turning into a werehyena in a brief swirl of violet light. The lowblood smiled again and climbed on the unusually large hyena, for Epsilo’s form reflected his size as a troll.

This time no tendrils sprung out to hold her fast, but Epsilo wasn’t going to complain as he set off running across the bridge.

He kept his eyes on the path ahead - it was wide enough that he wasn’t overly nervous, and Ullane had thought to grow guard-rails. Still, he didn’t want to miss any more potential attacks as his paws thudded over the wood.

It was impossible to not be awed by the view. 

Just like the winter court, the place was beautiful - a forest of trees with resplendently colored leaves, tossed about in periodic breezes that ruffled his fur and Ullane’s hair. 

Some clouds finally drew closer to the pair, and reflected on them from the eternal twilight, Epsilo saw images of…war. Imperial banners, soldiers in trenches, but gear and weapons that must be thousands of millennia old.

He saw fae fighting back. Killing the soldiers, tricking them, shutting out trolls from their homes with walls of wood and stone. 

“No wonder they were far more able than the winter court.” He murmured, in between breaths as he slowed his pace. He’d been running for a while, longer than he had in the tundra and hills. 

“The ice mourns. The leaves resent.” Ullane whispered. “Next is spring.” 

“What’s the spring court’s thing, then.” Epsilo said with a trace of wry humor. “How have they coped with their defeat?”

His companion laughed softly, then gripped him more tightly with her hands and thighs than she had the whole time.

Wingbeats. Loud, thudding ones coming toward them at speed, and while they were close, the top of the tallest tree was still a minute or so away…

Epsilo gritted his teeth and picked up his pace again.

It was no use; he saw…a huge deer, a winged deer with a bird’s tail and back feet, fly up by their entryway.

Even from dozens of feet away, the animal was large enough, its head adornment bright enough that he could see it for what it was: a slender golden crown, wrought in the shape of various intertwined leaves.

“STOP!” She - a feminine voice, he thought - screeched.

The violet winced but pressed onward, defying her volume and the wind that had blown along with it.

“No further, weeper! If I don’t stop you, your own hubris will! The marks on your face prove it.” The creature snarled. “Such overflowing power damns all who channel furthest ring folk!”

The deer-bird took a deep breath, then opened her mouth -

Singing voices called all around the racing hyena, and a cloud of pollen from the flowers earlier rushed toward her in a swirl of wind, hurling itself down the autumn queen’s throat before she could spit it back out, coughing and wheezing.

Ullane herself coughed and wheezed on his back, struggling for air herself as he kept going, and he silently begged her to not push herself any farther. 

The fae lashed out at the bridge in her fit before falling to the ground, clawing the last dozen feet of it away as Epsilo panicked, unable to stop his momentum in time - 

He felt his passenger thud down unconscious on his back at the same time he felt himself…lift.

Violet membranes had sprung out from his sides and limbs, catching the wind and carrying him just up enough to land gently at the highest branches of the autumn court’s vast tree. 

They shriveled into nothing as he steeled himself and walked into the sky itself, disappearing into the clouds that had come to receive him. 

[saitama-division]

“Surprise!”

You see your two adoptive children standing on your doorstep. Gifts in hand!

From Itsuki you received- An assortment of flowers! Well…pink and white roses. There’s a bunch of them though! 

From Kanade you received: A fancy looking vase and a box of homemade cupcakes! The vase has little ghosts hand painted on it- seems like Kanade had a friend help her make it! The cupcakes have pink and white frosting on them- with little ghost sprinkles! A kanade special! You also received a big hug!

“Happy birthday mom!” The actress cheers 

“C-can i speak to you privately?” Lana suddenly spoke.

Going in to the next room Lana leans against the nearest wall with a sigh. 

“I…wanted to give this to you in private- I was worried it wouldn’t come in soon enough”

From Lana you received: A shimmering diamond necklace- with a small diamond butterfly pendant. 

You also received a hand written note.

Dear mom

          This is probably going to come off as rather awkward. Considering I’m most likely giving this to you in person- it’s most definitely awkward. It’s been almost a year since you adopted Kanade and I and frankly I’m glad. Growing up all I really had was my father, he was the only parent who was proud of me and he’s gone. Arisa never saw me as her daughter- she never saw both of us as human. I almost cried the day you adopted us from that woman- the fact that I finally have a mother I can be proud of is something I’m never taking for granted. I know my gift isn’t much but it’s just a token of my appreciation. Thank you for everything mom.

Sincerely- Lana 

Suddenly you’re pulled in for a big hug. Lana’s holding back tears as she does so.

“Happy birthday mom”

“Lana! Kanade!” Sayaka cheerfully exclaimed and quickly stepped to the side. “Come in! Come in! Oh it’s so good to see you both!” The amber eyed woman pulled both girls into a hug, beaming at both of them. Receiving Itsuki and Kanade’s gift first, Sayaka smiled brightly. “Oh these are lovely, hold on, let me put these in some water.”

Taking the flowers and vase, Sayaka quickly hurried to the kitchen and filled the vase with water and placed the flowers inside, then she went to the kitchen table and place the vase right on the center. Giving a satisfied smile, she went back to the living room to see Kanade chatting happily with Kureha and Lola and Lana looking…anxious? “Lana dear? What’s wrong?” Sayaka frowned in concerned and was surprised when Lana pulled her over to the next room.

Again, Sayaka was about to ask what was wrong until being presented with Lana’s gift. Gasping in surprise, the brunette gingerly held the diamond necklace in her hands. “Lana, this is beautiful!” Sayaka complimented and opened the letter she gave to her. She was silent as she read the letter but her expression quickly changed into one of emotion, her amber irises glimmering with unshed tears, she covered her mouth to try to keep her sobs at a minimum and was about to wrap Lana in a hug had she not beaten to her to the punch-er, hug.

Sayaka held her back tightly. “Oh Lana, adopting you was the greatest gift I’ve ever gotten. I could only hope to be a mother worthy of you and Kanade. You’re both so precious to me and I would never trade either of you for anything, you’re both my wonderful daughter and I love you so much. Thank you.”

[violettabalkoff]

the first girl I ever loved:

Spoke softly. She never knew how to make herself big in a small room. But she’d send me letters covered in hearts and stickers and glitter glue, and to me, she was brighter than the sun. She wore mismatched socks and kept her curly hair short. I wrote her a million poems, but only showed her a few. Her hands were small and fit so nicely in mine, and I loved how her clothes smelled like her room, like burnt incense and yellow roses. We liked all the same music, but really I just liked her, and that made me love everything she touched. 

I knew I loved her before I let myself feel it. Everything reminded me of her. She was my shooting star at 2:22am. Coincidences were penned in her name, as I swore the Universe had brought us together. She brought me and a tin of watercolors to her favorite beach down in Malibu. I let her paint my face and arms up and down. I closed my eyes and imagined that every blue brush stroke was her fingertip, coloring me with her affection. 

Knowing her made me want to read every book and paint my nails pink and write hundreds of love stories—all for her. It was not enough to hold her. I wanted, more than anything, to hear her every unspoken word and see the colors of her soul. I only hugged her to bring her heart closer to mine. I loved how she felt like my secret: nobody, but us, could see the way we looked at each other. And nobody else could feel the artifacts she carved in the corner of my mind. 

Sometimes she would lay her head on my shoulder in bed. Sometimes she would ask me to skinny dip at midnight. And sometimes she’d be driving me down a winding hill and the wind made the music sound like it was a beating heart and I could barely see the road through my rose colored glasses and she would tell me how she was in love with another girl. I cried in the bathroom in the name of she’ll never love me the way I love her. But love is not a light-switch. I couldn’t let her go, just as she couldn’t let Mary go. I was there in front of her, naked and cold and beaming pink with love, and she couldn’t let Mary go. And I couldn’t let her go, either. 

We drank a whole bottle of wine on my bedroom carpet. I cleaned for hours before she arrived, setting each candle and match-box in their perfect places. She told me I was beautiful, and we kissed on my shower floor. And we kissed again on my bed. And in the morning, it was all over and friendly again, and I closed my eyes when she took off her top in front of me. I was so in love with her that it hurt to breathe. She had to leave early in the morning. Mary was taking her to San Francisco. She couldn’t hide her excitement, even though they were just friends in love, too. 

That summer I decided that she was one of the great loves of my life. It was not our time, but I swore to keep her close until it was. I believed with my whole heart that we would get married. These days I’m not so sure. I gave her a kiss on the cheek before she left for autumn in New York, and cried in my car to the thought of her goodbye. We met up a few times when the leaves rotted, and we’d talk about our own little journeys in our own big worlds and hug hello or goodbye at the train station. One of those nights, we kissed for so long that my red lipstick disappeared. I showed her a song the next morning, telling her that it reminded me of her. She smiled and said that that song always reminded her of Mary. It would always be their song. And Mary would always be her girl. She said that her and Mary knew they were in love, they just didn’t know what to do with it. 

Somehow it all feels so long ago now. I’m not sure which one of us stopped responding to the other’s letters, but to be honest, it was probably me. It didn’t matter that she had my whole heart—I only had half of her’s. I wasn’t strong enough to wait for her the way she needed me to. I last saw her in summer. Time had led me to somebody else’s lips, and I was gray with guilt from loving another—the way I promised to love only her. Eventually I fell too deep to reach her, and our chapter weeped her final sentences. I told her “I love you” when we hugged goodbye. Like I always did. 

A part of me holds her hand in my mind. Her sweet, quiet laugh. Her freckled nose. Her green eyes. Her rose lips. Even if I wanted to, I could never let her go. We could kiss and I could pretend like there was never anything else. If only, if only, if only her heart was only mine.

[rpm-rosesstory]

Rpm roses story: chapter 5-girls just wanna have fun

Rose was in the lab holding a plastic cube in her hand. The cube was engulfed by a pink haze, and morphed into a frog before morphing back again.

“So what’s gives?” Asked Ziggy. “I think this is her ranger power.” Said summer. Rose hummed in confusion. “You know, Ziggy can teleport, I can fire energy blast-” “Correct, this is Rose’s power; biological transmutation.” “How come she can use it when unmorphed?” Said Scott. “Mostly likely has to do with the unique properties of the series pink morpher.”

As the rangers dispersed, Scott pulled aside the twins. “Did either of you have any idea that dr.k was creating a new morpher, or that’s recruited a new ranger.” He asked them. Gem and Gemma spoke in turns as they usually do.

“Nope, we’re” “Just as surprised as” “you are Scott.”

“If you’re done conversing in secret.” Said dr.k, spooking Scott “I would like for you to train with Rose.” Before Scott could object, Dr.k turned and left, before briefly pausing and turning back. “Oh, and beware of seismic activity.” She said, before continuing on her way.

The two went to the park to spar. “How did I do?” Said Rose. “Your forms good but you need to work on your balance.” Suggested Scott. “We’re did you learn that form of martial arts anyways?” “Oh I picked up kung fu in the 5th ce-September 5th, 1999.”

“Uh huh. So I think we’ve train enough for today-“ “Oh, can we go out?” “What?” said Scott. “You know, out in the town. There’s so much I want to see!” Said Rose enthusiasticly. “Uh, sure.” A rumble was felt.

The duo went to down first going down a bunch of street vendors. “Ohh Scott, what should I try first? Thai, itialian, Mexican?” Rose spoke, unable to contain her joy. Scott never saw get this excited over street food. He usually avoided anything like that like the plague.

“Step right up for a one way ticket to hell!” Exclaimed a vendor selling spicy hotdogs. “I’d like a one way ticket to heaven, please.” ChimedRose, slapping down the money. “How much hot sauce do you want?” The vendor said. “More.” Said rose as he poured it on. “More. More. More.” “You’re white! You can’t handle this level of spice.” screamed Scott. But it was too late. Rose chomped down on the dog and belched fire. “The pain is almost euphoric.” She wimpered.

The two went on their way to various sites around the city, eventually ending up in a costume, shop. “Look Scott” Gushed Rose, dressed up as a giant moth, I’m the personification of metamorphosis!” “Can we go now? This is getting ridiculous.” Scott bemoaned, dressed up as a dinosaur. “Also can you take mine back? I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

Rose went back to put the costumes in the closet. Another tremor went off, and the power went out. Rose made her way to the door, only to find it was stuck. Try as she might, she could get the door open.

Rose was forced into a memory. Of being locked up in the tower again. The room was getting smaller. Her heart was pounding. She couldn’t get the air into her lungs fast enough. Cruel eyes manifested from the dark. Her mind raced, pleaseletmeoutipromiseillbegood.

The door open by itself. Or rather, Scott opened it to find rose in a fetal position talking to herself. “The door was blocked by debris.” He said. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Y-y-yeah, fine.” Rose mumbled. “Come on” Scott said “I don’t think these are regular earthquakes.”

The two found their way to the epicenter of the earthquakes. The ground cracked and gave way. From the newly formed whole emerged a robot with drills for arms along with several grinders. “It’s venjixs attack bot!” Shouted Scott. “The earthquakes must be from it trying to enter the city from underground.” With out a moments hesitation the two morphed and did battle with the machine as the grinders scattered.

Rose and Scott fought the drill bot. As Scott traded blows, rose transformed some debris into frogs. She chucked one at the machine. It turned to face her. She continued to throw them at the robot, but they did nothing to stop its approach. “Why isn’t this working?!” Rose yelled.

The attack boy was mere feet away from her. It lunged at the pink ranger, pinning her to the ground. It’s drills began to crack her helmets visor when it suddenly stopped. A rock was logged in its gears. “Looks like playing soccer in middle school finally paid off.” Said Scott. Rose used the opportunity to get away.

Flynn and summer arrived the scene. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Said Summer. “Better late than never.” said Scott “Now let’s fry this two bit drill bit.” Flynn chuckled. “What?” Said Scott. “Two bit drill bit? That’s the best you could come up with?” Said Flynn.

Scott ignored him as the three rangers combined their weapons together and blasted the attack bot. Rose, watching from afar, saw the rangers banter. She had already scene them interacting through dr.k’s memories, and a little bit before this moment, but it was clear to her that the rangers had already formed a tight nit group with each other. One that you’re intruding upon.

Unfortunately for them, the attack bot began to change, rearranging its parts to become a giant version of itself. The trio of rangers, in turn, summoned their zords, vehicles that bore the likeness of animals, which then combined into a giant mecha known as a megazord.

While the megazord did battle the giant robot, rose stood on the ground. “What should I do, doctor?” Said rose through her com link. “Pull back.” Said dr.k. “What?” “Without a zord of your own, you’ll be of no use to the fight.” “Yeah…” rose sighed dejectedly. She already piloted a war zord with her fellow diamonds, but now…

Now she was little more than an on looker. The best thing she could do was get out the way to avoid getting crushed. You’d deserve it though.

The battle ended with venjix’s machine’s destroyed. The rangers demorphed. “Hey, where rose?” Asked summer. “I don’t know.” Said Scott”she was here before we summoned the zords.” “Ey doc.” Said Flynn to his communicator “You ave any idea where your pink protege went?””Yes” dr.k responded “I told her to leave the battle on account of her lack of zord. Right now she’s at this location.”

Scott made his way to the top of a clock tower. Rose was seated near the edge with a guilty look on her face. “Hey.” Scott said. “Normal I’d be mad if one of my troops went MIA.” He hates you. “But since you were ordered to, I guess I can’t fault you there.” He sat beside his fellow ranger.

“You were a little shaken up when you got stuck in the closet.” Said Scott sympathetically. Rose scrunched her face in embarrassment. “I’m scared of the dark.” She murmured. “It’s okay to be afraid. Fear shows where our limits are.” But your fear hurts others, coward.

“You know, when I was I kid, I was afraid of heights.” Chuckled Scott. “But, you’re a pilot.” Said rose. “Yeah, we’ll I wouldn’t have been one had I not decided to clime up to the water tower. The point is-“

Why don’t you do them all a favor and throw yourself off. What sounded like loud white noises screeched. Rose clutched her head.

“Shut up!” She screamed. “Hey I was just trying to- “No it’s not you, it’s just-“ now he thinks you’re crazy, not that he didn’t before.Rose got up, trembling. “P-please take me back to the base.” She said, her voice cracking with anxiety. Scott walked her down the tower.

[i-cant-sing]

soft? yandere bakugo with a kidnapped reader who loves the outdoors, especially flowers! he keeps them locked up in the house but one day, the reader manages to escape but all they do is go to the house's garden because they want to play with the flowers

Yandere Bakugo x reader who loves outdoors

Its been so long since I last wrote for him. So enjoy!

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Bakugo:

Bakugo couldn't believe it.

Never in his life had he imagined that he'd be doing picnics. Not when he was in UA, and especially not after becoming a top Pro Hero.

Then again, he never thought he'd fall in love with someone either.

When he first brought you to his home, he had taken all the measures to make sure that you can't leave him. Quirk cancelling cuffs were placed on you and you were locked in a room in his huge penthouse. Cameras were placed in each corner of the house to keep an eye on you. The windows were bolted shut, with alarms placed to alert if someone broke in or out of the house. You mostly obeyed whatever orders he barked out, but you missed the outside. You were naturally adventurous and very curious. You get bored easily, so when you didn't find anything intriguing inside the house, your mind went to beautiful and big garden at the back of his house.

You kept on requesting him to take you out but he always denied your pleas because he didn't want to risk you running away from him. When you continued bugging him, he locked you back into your room and increased the security around his place.

So imagine his surprise when he returns home from work and finds you nowhere in sight. The house was completely silent. Your cuffs were broken and so was the lock on your bedroom. He searched the entire house for you and just as he was about to leave the place to look for you, he found the lounge window open. The sliding window was supposed to be locked and if someone opens it, an alert message is sent to Bakugo. However, he hadn't gotten any alerts. He ran through the window, which opened to the huge garden, that his estate agent had forced him to get.

And thats when he saw you.

Laying in a bed of lavender flowers, sleeping.

You looked like an angel.

You were sleeping so peacefully with a flower crown decorating your head, the sun that was setting down gave your cheeks a beautiful glow. Your fingers were  slightly bloody, pricked from the roses that you held in your hands. The sight looked something straight out of a fairytale.

Bakugo wished he could just lay there with you and stay like that forever.

But more pressing matters came to his mind. First, how the hell did you manage to get out here without alerting any of the alarms? And second, why didn't you run?

You were woken up by Bakugo picking you up into his arms and moving towards the house. "Katsuki?"you rubbed eyes, trying to get rid of sleep. He hummed. "When did you get home?"

Once inside the house, he placed you on the kitchen counter and pulled out the first aid kit from drawer. He was being unnervingly quiet as he began tending to your wounded hands.

Thats when it hit you. He was mad about you getting out of the house.

Fear rised in you. "I'm sorry for getting out the house. Look I just wanted some fresh a-"

"Why didn't you run?"he asked, his eyes never leaving your hands.

"What?"you asked him.

He finally looked at you, his brows furrowed as he spoke. "Why didn't you run? You broke out of all the locks and didn't sound the alarm. This was perfect opportunity to escape. So why didn't you?" "Oh I just wanted to see the garde-" Bakugo cut you off. "Tell me the truth."

You stared at each other for a few seconds. You shrugged. "I- I don't know. I think I got tired." You looked away from him. But Bakugo understood why you didn't run away.

You were finally in love with him.

He sighed, shaking his head as he continued to bandage your hands. "Do you want to go out in the garden again, tomorrow?"

You tilted your head, like a confused puppy. So adorable. "Huh?"

Bakugo continued speaking, his brows furrowed as he rubbed his thumbs over your bandaged hands. "You'll have to wear gardening gloves if you want to play with flowers. And mosquito repellent too. There's way too many in the garden."

Your eyes widened. "Seriously? You'll let me?" He scoffed. "Don’t get any ideas. I'll be with you the entire time!"

You smiled excitedly. "Really?! Oh my, that's perfect! We can have a picnic! Katsuki, you can make those delicious egg sandwiches of yours- oh and can we have the strawberry cheesecake too?"

You continued rambling on about the picnic plans gleefully while Katsuki looked at you, a small smile forming on his face.

You're so cute. If he'd known how happy this would make you, he would've taken you out long ago.

And now, he couldn’t believe he was wearing a flower crown you had made him, or that the love of his life was sleeping in his arms only after making him promise that he'll build a swing for her under the shade of the tree as they were surrounded by fragnant flowers beds. Katsuki pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he moved your hair out of your face, the pink and oranges of the sunset carresed your rosy cheeks. 

Katsuki smiled.

He couldn't believe he had a small piece of paradise at home.

[danniburgh]

The Unconciousness Aftermath (Frankie Morales x OFC) part 8

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x OFC!Belle Morales

Summary: After a car accident that left his body in a pause for two years, Frankie wakes up to learn the world kept moving while he was sleeping. And that he might’ve lost everything.

Word count: +3.6k

Warnings: i cant stop with the feelings guys, theres not a lot of angst

A/N: I KNOW i know its been almost a month, im sorry... i had a crisis

chapter list // playlist // Masterlist // AO3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Santiago asked, grabbing for the umpteenth time Frankie’s hand and interlocking his fingers with his own. Frankie huffed at him, looking into his eyes and nodding.

“I’m well taken’ care of, Po’pe.” Frankie replied, tugging Santiago’s hand lightly and making the man lean down to embrace him again.

“I don’t really wanna leave, Fish,” Santiago muttered into Frankie’s hospital gown, “there’s so much shit going on here and I do–”

“You don’t wann’a miss–it?” Frankie interrupted, knowing entirely well what the man would say; Santiago huffed and broke the embrace, taking Frankie from the shoulders.

“You’ll never change, pedazo de imbécil,” he muttered, Frankie shrugged into his hands and Santiago gave him a smile that broke Frankie’s heart, “ven acá.”

Santiago pulled Frankie towards him, one of his hands slid up to his face and he leaned into him to take Frankie’s dry, plush lips with his. The kiss didn’t last nearly enough as they wanted; saying goodbye to Santiago was one of the things Frankie hated the most, but he knew the man wasn’t his –he had never really been his, anyway– and he had to go back home.

“Gr’acias.” Frankie mumbled against Santiago’s lips, and was grateful that the man didn’t say a thing in reply.

Frankie wasn’t uncomfortable with being alone, his thoughts needed sorting either way; but it hurt him in some tender, vulnerable part of him to watch Santiago go, to have to say goodbye to him and then to have to say goodbye to Renata as well.

Belle had returned from wherever she had gone to after almost a month, and Martha had to take Renata home to her mom; which in other circumstances, Frankie would’ve been fine with. But there, in that hospital room, with his still-broken body and his loathed inability to do whatever he wanted and the prospect of just not getting what he was sure he needed, he resented Belle.

Because in that time, his daughter had been there with him almost all day long, and he had gotten to know her and build back, little by little, that relationship he had with her before his body went into pause; he wanted more of it, he couldn’t help but crave more.

A week had gone by; and he felt his head less scrambled, he had tried to make sense of most of the thing he had learned from the Millers, he had talked it over with himself and found out that maybe there was something else he could do to try to fill the gaps; but his pride, that ingrained thing of his he couldn’t get rid of, didn’t let him pursue it.

“Hi, baby.” Frankie gripped his mom’s phone a little harder, his hand was getting better at obeying his commands and he could feel better about it without shame.

“Hi, daddy!” Renata replied from the screen, her face a little too close to the camera.

“How’re you, Reni? what’you been up–to?” he asked, following the girl’s movements as she saw herself on the screen.

“I’m eating dinner,” she replied with a small smile, showing him a plastic pink plate with some pasta on it, “where’s you dinner, daddy?” she asked with a small frown, almost comical.

“I alr’eady had it, baby.” Renata softened her brow and kept eating in front of him, Frankie let out half a smile as he saw the girl chew and noticed the way she looked behind the camera.

“Daddy,” she looked at the screen, finishing chewing the latest bite she had pushed into her mouth, Frankie’s brows rose as she leaned closer to her iPad and she looked like she was hiding, “are you angry with mommy?” she whispered into the camera.

Frankie frowned at the question, Renata stopped looking at him over the screen for a second and he found out she was looking out as she waited for him to reply.

“Why do’you ask, baby?” Frankie’s words were cautious, as he looked at how she kept watch to avoid someone catching her in the act.

“She’s sad!” she whispered, Frankie’s head tilted to the side on his own and he changed the phone to his other hand.

“Is she?” he asked, trying to figure out what the girl’s question meant and if there was something else she wanted to say, or if maybe, the question had come from another mind.

“She’s sad all day.” Renata dropped her big brown eyes to the table.

“Reni…” Frankie called, his mind reeled with hundreds of questions he knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask to his four-year-old daughter, he knew it as well as he knew nothing would drown that curiosity but to actually ask them. Before he could formulate a question she would understand, Renata looked at him –she looked at the camera instead at the image of him on the screen– and she pouted.

“When you’re coming home, daddy?”

The question took Frankie by surprise; he forgot about all his doubts with just those five words the girl pronounced.

He was sure that it wasn’t the first time she asked that, but it was the first time she had asked it to him. A direct question he felt like a punch to the gut and that left him breathless.

Frankie wanted to ask, once again, why was she asking that, if someone had told her the house she lived in was also his house, if someone was building her hopes up that once he could get discharged from the hospital he would go to that place and they could be together again; he wanted to know if there was someone else who wanted him to be there apart from his daughter.

And that reeling thought that maybe Belle did, that maybe she told Renata that he would go back to them and maybe they could be a family then, hurt him.

“Soon, baby,” he lied, and the way the girl looked at him told him she knew as well it wasn’t a full truth, “soon.”

___

“Will can you hold Reni for a bit?” Belle asked, handing a sitting Will the toddler that had been dozing out in her arms; he took the girl in his arms as she rushed towards the bedroom and cradled her next to his chest.

“You okay?” he asked out loud to her, receiving no response; his blue eyes fell on the girl in his arms as she opened her own and Will would’ve smiled to her if in that exact moment, the reflection of Frankie’s eyes hadn’t stared back at him.

“Dadda.” Reni whispered out, a small gasp of air that formed into a word he didn’t want to hear, reaching her tiny little hand up to him and fisting her small fingers through his coarse beard. Will shook his head, making her hand drop back on her chest.

“I’m not…” he whispered to Reni as she closed her eyes again and shifted closer to his chest, “I’m not your dad, princess.”

The girl was already asleep again, and even if he wanted it, she wouldn’t understand what he was telling her.

Will looked up at the hall to see if Belle was coming; the weight of Renata in his arms became suddenly uncomfortable, he didn’t like the way she looked at him, he wasn’t the man she was supposed to look at like that.

He hated feeling like an impostor; but that was what he was.

The life he was living wasn’t his, he was simply an understudy for the man whose life he was filling into just so the empty space didn’t look as big; but there, sitting in the middle of a living room he hadn’t paid for, with his arms carrying a girl that would never be his daughter even if he wanted her to, he felt the weight of what he was doing fall on his shoulders.

And the look of disappointment of everyone in his life who disapproved of his relationship with Belle; his own parents, Belle’s dad, Pope and of course, Frankie’s mom filled his mind and his body with that same feeling of guilt he had been pushing down into a deep corner of his head for over six months but that was slowly growing larger and larger.

Will knew that at some point that guilt would cover him completely; taint him, mark him, turn him into an undesirable evil, and he didn’t know if he would ever be ready for that.

“You okay?” Belle’s voice brought him back to reality, to the place he was sitting in in the world, in her world. And as she sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder to reach for Reni’s hand and wrap her other arm around his neck, invading his space with her presence and her scent and all the love she said she had for him, the weight of any consequence felt a little lighter.

___

“And how does your neck feel?” Troy asked in a soft voice, Frankie winced as the younger man stretched his arms down and pushed up gently.

“Less–stiff.” Frankie replied, hissing when Troy shook his arms once.

“Try to push,” he said, interlocking his fingers with Frankie’s and pushing back as Frankie’s arms trembled, “damn mister M,” Troy smiled as he turned up Frankie’s arms and rolled his wrists, “you’re getting your strength back, man.”

“You aren’t a good–liar.” Frankie huffed, making Troy chuckle at him.

“You, sir, aren’t good at believing.” Troy replied, letting Frankie’s arms back on his lap and grabbing a small towel to clean his hands; Frankie looked down at his hands and fisted them, his movements still weren’t as sleek as he remembered them being, his bones still complained at him and his muscles still ached, but everything was slowly going back into place; the only thing that remained was inside him.

Frankie still didn’t feel like the man he was before the accident, and the thought that maybe he would never get to feel like that scared the shit out of him.

“Tomorrow we’re gonna try to walk some more,” Troy interrupted his spiral of thoughts and Frankie turned to look at him with a frown, the younger man noticed and tried to give him a reassuring smile. “don’t give me that look, mister M,” he muttered, walking away from the bed and towards the door, “you’ve been doing great, and you’re gonna do better.”

Troy opened the door before Frankie could even reply, the doorstep wasn’t empty and that surprised them both in different ways.

“Oh,” Troy let out, a giddy, surprised expression at the sight of Belle standing there with her hand up, ready to knock on the door, “hi, misses M.”

Frankie looked at him look at her with a small smile and his eyes traveled to Belle, who smiled back at the younger man as he stepped to the side and let her enter the room.

Her olive eyes fell on him as Troy walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving them both inside, looking at each other.

Frankie’s hands tightened the fists they were still rolled into and that hurt him, but he didn’t let her see the pain in his face; he swallowed it, not knowing exactly if there was another kind of pain mixed with the physical that he wasn’t willing to show.

“Hi, Frankie.” her voice sounded afar, Frankie’s hearing was deafened, and he hated the reaction his body was having as he saw her; that’s not how he wanted to feel.

He didn’t want to feel his heartbeat accelerating in his chest, he didn’t want the knot that had twisted his vocal cords, he didn’t want to feel his stomach turn upside down and make him feel nauseated, he didn’t want to feel the urge to reach for her and hold her.

But he did, and he both hated himself for it and accepted his feelings.

Frankie didn’t think a month would do anything to him, but it did, and there she was, standing in front of him, with her arms embracing herself, with her olive eyes dulled and her teeth chewing on her lip and he hated everything about that; because he knew that in big part, it was his fault she felt that way

“Hey.” he let out in a shaky breath.

Belle noticed; the way he had stiffened his body when he saw her, the way he had breathed deeply when she talked to him, she had noticed the way his deep, brown eyes scanned her and recognized her and he was jealous of him for doing so.

Because for more than she wanted, she would see him, with his brown and silver, curly hair, his deep, sunken, brown eyes, his aquiline rough nose, his coarse, patchy beard and his dry, plush lips and she wouldn’t recognize a man everyone told her she should. She wanted to feel him, she wanted to see him, she wanted to associate the man she had in front of her to something in her, to anything but that immense guilt she felt since she received the news he had woken up; she wanted to link him up with a memory, something she had lost and no one knew if she would get back.

She huffed at herself, blinking a small tear she was unaware had formed in her eye, she tried to give him a smile but couldn’t stop herself from looking at him; something inside of her was tugging her towards him, something in her gut, in her bones was telling her to get closer, to touch him.

“How do you feel?” she asked, Frankie gave her a shrug as a reply, “can I sit?” Belle pointed to the armchair next to the bed, Frankie looked at it and back at her, giving her a nod as a reply.

“What are–you doing’here?” Frankie asked as she dragged the chair closer to the bed and sat down slowly, she looked at him and noticed the way his lip trembled.

“I wanted to talk,” Belle mutered, gripping her own hands before she gave into what her body craved and reached for his, Frankie just gave her a nod, “I have questions.”

Frankie looked at her with a frown adorning his face, he couldn’t stop but notice the way she had shrunk into the chair and he despised that, he couldn’t point exactly at what he hated about it, he just knew he did.

“Where’s Reni?” Frankie asked, trying to get her to get out of that shell she had enclosed herself in, Belle gave him half a turned down smile.

“With my dad,” she said, Frankie raised his brow, she noticed the way he opened his mouth, like he was about to protest “he’s visiting.” Belle clarified before he could say anything else.

“Right.” he let out, dropping his shoulders and sighing.

“I–” she interrupted herself, huffing and dropping her gaze to her lap, “shit, I feel like such a kid.” she mumbled out.

“Will…” Frankie muttered, searching for her eyes, Belle winced at the mention of Will, and didn’t look at him, “he told–me ‘you lost’twelve years,” Belle nodded, leaning to support her face on her hand over the arm of the chair. “you’re twenty-five ag’ain.”

Belle looked at him, frowning at the shade of a tease he had on his face, Frankie huffed at himself. She wondered if she could tell him, if he would understand what it was for her to not remember anything at all and one day wake up, look in the mirror and noticing that the reflection is not really the same; she remembered what it was for her, looking at herself and an older version of herself staring back at her, with a different haircut, wrinkles in her eyes, scars and stretch marks that weren’t there the last time she remembered looking. And maybe he did, but she wasn’t ready to let all that out just yet.

“I guess.” Belle shrugged slightly, Frankie caught her eyes in his, searching for something she didn’t know what it was; his eyes were captivating and she felt relaxed as he settled his gaze on her.

“I met’you when’you were twenty-five, y’know.” he let out, his voice had softened out suddenly, and Belle could see in his eyes how he got lost in his memory for a second. She felt jealous of him, she wanted to do that so badly it hurt her inside.

“Would you tell me about it?” she whispered, leaning closer to him.

Frankie felt the tone of his voice drop on him like a bucket of iced water; he had been so enraptured in himself, dwelling in his own anger and self-pity he hadn’t stopped, really stopped to think that she; the woman he ineffably, undoubtedly, inexplicably, undeniably still loved with his entire heart, had absolutely no memory of a life everyone, –including himself– told her she had.

That she was there, almost cornered to live a life she didn’t even remember building, not knowing exactly how.

And the thought made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

“Yeah,” he nodded softly, making her huff a soft smile at him, “I can tell’you.”

Belle widened her smile at him, sitting up straight as she put in order her ideas.

“That’s good,” she said, nodding, “because I have so many questions and no one would help me.” she shrunk on herself again and Frankie restrained himself to stop from reaching to her.

“Help’you?” Frankie asked, looking at her as she shuffled on the chair just like she did whenever she was ready to have a conversation.

“Yeah,” Belle nodded at him, biting her lip as her eyes roamed through the room, “everyone is mad at me but now one tells me why,” she whispered, returning her olive eyes to his; Frankie saw her swallow her pain, and he felt it sink in his own body, “I’ve been confused for two years, Francisco.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she mouthed his name, and Frankie couldn’t help himself even if he wanted; he lifted his hand, offering it to her.

Belle looked at him, and at his hand, she noticed the way it shook, it wasn’t violent, barely perceivable, but it was there; a tiny shake of his hand that told her how much effort it took to him –physically and emotionally– to extend it to her.

Frankie sighed when she took it, her hand still fit in his and he chastised himself for even thinking it wouldn’t; for a moment, a tiny bat of his eyes, he could feel like he was somewhere else; like they were holding hands while sitting on bed waiting for sleep to come, reading a book, chatting about nothing, just sitting with each other keeping the other company; and the fact that he opened his eyes again and saw her looking at him with her perfect small smile and her wide eye gaze made him love her all over again.

How could he forget how much he loved her?

“Woah,” she breathed out, Frankie looked at her, she wasn’t the same woman he had fallen in love but she was still her; and he still loved her; her beautiful olive eyes, her lean lips and her expressive smile, he still loved her and he wanted to kick himself for forgetting it, “you’re warm.”

Belle caught herself in her words and bit her lip; her first reflex was to take her hand away but Frankie gripped it; it wasn’t even a firm grip, but she left her hand in his, and looked at him smile softly at her.

“How many ‘questions–you have?” Frankie asked, looking down at their intertwined hands.

“About a hundred,” she replied, making him huff a silent smile, “I wanna know how we met.”

Frankie nodded, rummaging around his brain just to find the specific details of their first encounter.

“In a bar,” he said, shifting slightly on the bed to turn to her, “you’were sitting on a table next to–ours, chatting a bit with Will and–Benny,” Belle frowned at him. “what?”

"Did I meet Will first?" she asked almost cautiously. Frankie shook his head.

"We met–the same day." he replied, Belle deepened her frown.

“Will told me he saw me at a bar and bought me a drink,” she replied, shaking her head slightly, “he never mentioned Benny was there...” she sighed, “or that you were there too.”

“When–we arr’ived you’were sitting with one of–your friends…” Frankie looked over her, trying to remember, “Amanda,” he muttered with a questioning tone, Belle nodded, she remembered Amanda, she used to work with her, and she made a mental note of asking for her after, “right nex’t to the booth,” he pointed with his other hand, “Benny did the–talking,” Frankie rolled his eyes, Belle nodded, conceding, “and he introduced us.”

“So…” Belle looked at him, leaning closer to the bed, “Will lied to me?”

Frankie couldn’t ignore the dullness of Belle’s eyes, it resembled the eyes of a kid who just found out Santa wasn’t real. She was in pain and she wasn’t even masking it, she wanted him to see it.

“Well,” he sighed, gripping her hand, “I wouldn’t be–surprised,” Belle didn’t say a word, she dropped her eyes to the union of their hands and she noticed the small bullseye tattoo between his thumb and his forefinger, she traced it with her own thumb and sighed; she wasn’t completely sure about trusting Frankie, but she couldn’t help herself from believing him. Will had done many things, and she had found out slowly about them. “do–you love him?”

Frankie’s question was more of a whisper that caught her attention as it left his mouth, his deep, brown eyes were searching for hers and she looked at them, feeling him sinking his gaze in her like he wanted her permission to read her mind.

“I don’t know.” she said.

But Frankie smiled softly when she shook her head.

let me know if you wanna be removed :)

pedrito's perma list: @northernpunk @pascalesque @sleep-tight1 @cheekygeek05 @letaliabane @supernaturalgirl20 @metalarmsandmanbuns @greeneyedblondie44 @missswriter @juletheghoul @pedro-pastel @charlispersonallyhell @hopeevenonthisside @sherala007 @beskarboobs @kenoobiwan @queridopascal @klara-luise18 @pedrostories @castleamc @luckyspenguin @mrsbentallmadge @kirsteng42 @sarahjkl82-blog @what-iwish-you-knew @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen

dick aneurysm: @starlightmornings @ezrasbirdiealso @wordsnwhiskey @pascalslittlebrat @mothandpidgeon @charnelhouse

UncAft tag list: @icanbeyourjedi @toilet-keeper @pascalove @kravitzwhore @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

[beom1e]

SOUL WATCH

everybody had the soul watch app, because everybody was curious to meet their soulmate. it was an app that told you when or how and gave you hints, but never who. and due to all the pressure, you downloaded the app too... just to find out you didn’t even have a soulmate after all.

PAIRING yang jungwon x gn! reader

THEMES soulmates au, highschool au, fluff, humour

matching jewellery was a trend among soulmates when it came to being a highschool student. those that had found theirs wanted to show it off, basically shoving it into the faces of those that were still searching. walking down the corridors was a constant reminder that you didn’t have a soulmate for yourself, as matched couples would walk hand-in-hand with shiny bracelets or be seen wearing those missing piece style necklaces.

mondays. after freeing yourself from the couple-filled hallways, you sat down at your desk and placed your books onto the table with a huff. trying to block out your classmate bragging about meeting their soulmate over the weekend, you noisily checked around in your bag for your pencil case.

then came the clicking of your teacher’s heels as she entered the classroom, and there was a rush of students finding their seats. the squeaking of chair legs and quiet chatter only made you more annoyed at the world. to say discovering you were soulmate-less a few weeks prior had put you in a permanent bad mood would be an understatement.

but everything lit up as soon as yang jungwon appeared in the doorway. he apologised for being late, cheeks flushed and hair windswept. heat rose to your own cheeks at the sight of his sorry smile.

much to your dismay, he was a few seats to the back and to the right of you. he disappeared from your sight, making you slump sadly in your seat.

‘today is international soulmate day,’ your teacher smiled, setting her powerpoint up behind her. ‘as you all may know. there are many types of soulmate links out there, but i want to know about yours. so research and write about it — its origin, its rarity — and hand it in at the end of class.’

not sure what to do, you raised your hand. ‘what if you don’t have a soulmate?’ at the sound of your voice, jungwon looked up from his notebook. he didn’t have a soulmate either.

‘everybody has a soulmate, y/n,’ she reminded you. ‘maybe you entered your details into soul watch incorrectly.’

‘i don’t have a soulmate either,’ jungwon spoke up. you turned in your seat. ‘so what do we do instead?’

‘this is the first time i’m hearing of people being soulmate-less,’ she chuckled awkwardly, slightly panicked. ‘well, you’re both part of the student board aren’t you? just head down to the main hall and help the others set up for the soulmate dance.’

the soulmate dance. just the thought of it made you roll your eyes. you’d never attended, because you didn’t show interest in finding out until those few weeks ago, but you knew how cheesy it was. it was like every other kind of dance, totally cliché and super boring. except, you got to bring your soulmate.

you packed up your things as quickly as possible. as horrible it would be having to decorate for a stupid highschool dance that you wouldn’t even attend, at least jungwon would be at your side. and he must’ve understood your suffering, especially during international soulmate week on international soulmate day that just happened to fall on a monday.

you slung your bag onto your shoulder and followed jungwon out of the door. he walked slightly ahead of you, holding open each door for you which you quietly thanked him for.

when you made it to the main hall, the bright pink colour palette made your eyes burn. ‘this is going to be a long week,’ jungwon sighed, dropping his bag and leaving you at the door. mentally agreeing, you placed your own bag down beside his.

you sort of felt bad for jungwon. it was depressing to know that you weren’t ‘destined’ for anyone, and that you’d have to find someone the old way. he seemed even less of a fan of soulmate week than you were, but he did seem really down about not having a soulmate of his own.

it was wednesday morning and you’d missed your bus. annoyed with yourself, you had to run to the nearest bus stop in hopes another bus would arrive soon. that was where you saw jungwon and his friends, all of them being upperclassmen.

trying not to be seen, you awkwardly leaned against the outside of the shelter and looked off to the side. ‘it’s not like i like them,’ jungwon argued, which earned a few laughs from the boys. ‘why would i ask them to the soulmate dance if we’re not soulmates?’

‘because you don’t want to spend saturday studying alone in your room?’ sunoo teased, ‘if they’re not matched, then you can ask them. no big deal.’

the bus pulled up in front of them. you waited for them to get on before following, avoiding eye contact and taking a seat at the back. ‘good morning, y/n,’ jake turned around to face you. ‘i didn’t know you take this bus.’

‘i don’t,’ you awkwardly replied. ‘i was late and missed my own bus.’

‘are you going to the dance on saturday?’ sunoo also joined in, smiling brightly at you.

‘oh, uh,’ you nervously fiddled with the straps of your bag. ‘no, i don’t have a soulmate.’

‘well, we were just telling little wonie here that you don’t need a soulmate to go,’ jay patted jungwon’s head, making the younger boy complain about him messing up his hair. ‘you could come with us.’

‘thank you...’ shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you looked between all of the boys who were staring eagerly at you. ‘for the offer... but i don’t want to go. it means a lot, i just don’t do school dances.’

the bus conversation was probably the most awkward thing that happened to you that day. or during lunch time, when you took a seat on a bench facing the sports field. there was jungwon once again, playing around with the same friends. you watched as jake gave up on running around and collapsed to the floor, with everyone mirroring his actions seconds later.

you’d always had a crush on jungwon. he was always so sweet and polite, with the perfect balance between humour and seriousness. you saw him as someone you could easily rely on and trust, despite never being close to him. his cheeks always had this natural blush and his laugh was addictive, and he looked so serious whenever he was concentrating. you felt your heart racing whenever he was around, but you never had the courage to confess to him.

as you got lost in your thoughts, you made eye contact with him across the field. panicked, you began packing your things away and into your bag. then you left, trying not to move too quickly so that it didn’t look suspicious.

after classes, you were called into the main hall once again. knowing today you’d have to be painting, you grabbed your change of clothes from your locker and headed into the changing rooms. coming back into the hall, you were met with jake and sunghoon covering each other in the baby pink paint.

you slipped past them and looked around for something to do. and then someone tapped on your shoulder. it was sunoo, who asked if you could help him with painting the banner. jungwon passed by you, sending you a soft smile before hurrying off towards jay. how did he seem to be everywhere?

on friday afternoon, as you were exhausted from all the decorating you’d been doing, you were so glad to be able to go home and enjoy your weekend. the whole week had been a complete disaster, and you now had a strong dislike towards the colour pink. but much to your dismay, the head of the student board asked you to attend the soulmate dance in order to keep an eye on the students. why he chose you specifically, you had no idea.

so on saturday morning, you tried your best to drag yourself out of bed. though you really didn’t want to dress up for a highschool dance, there was an outfit you had in mind. things weren’t going to change, you weren’t going to randomly get a soulmate, but you stupidly had hope things could change.

you spent most of the day considering backing out, but gave in because you didn’t want to disappoint your classmate. you arrived at the main hall an hour and a half before the event, ready to set things up.

a few students were around, moving tables to either side of the hall. a large red carpet was being rolled through the centre of the room, leading out onto the school gardens. you turned around at the sound of your name, bumping into the source. they reached for your hand, preventing you from toppling over.

a shock of electricity shot through your arm, forcing you to snatch your hand back. ‘i’m so sorry,’ the voice spoke, and much to your dismay, it was jungwon.

you felt your heart racing again, heat rising to your cheeks in an instant. ‘it’s ok,’ you reassured him. ‘it was my fault, so i’m the one that’s sorry.’

‘well,’ he smiled. ‘i guess i’ll see you around.’

honestly, you felt like an idiot. he heard loud and clear just a few days ago that you didn’t want to go to the soulmate dance, but here you were. maybe he would realise you were being forced into it, but if he didn’t, then that would be humiliating.

you shook your head to clear yourself of all the thoughts. ‘y/n,’ turning on the spot, you were met with the sight of jay coming towards you. ‘you’re looking lost. i thought you weren’t coming.’

‘change of plan,’ you simply replied. ‘i was asked to help set up some things.’

‘well, i need help carrying some things in from the truck outside,’ he offered. ‘if you’d like to help.’ nodding, you followed behind him at a distance.

the sky was clear — not a single cloud in sight — and the sun was shining brightly. the back doors of the truck were open, workers from the catering company lowering large bottles of drinks onto the ground. jay gestured towards the cluster of fruit juice bottles before grabbing one for himself.

they were heavy, but you managed. walking at jay’s side, you couldn’t think of a conversation starter to make it all a little less awkward. but thankfully, or maybe not, he spoke up first. ‘you do know that jungwon has a crush on you, right?’

the bottle fell from your grip. panicked, you reached forward to catch it again. clearly the universe was on your side in that moment, because it didn’t split.

‘uh, no,’ you forced out a laugh, feeling your entire body heat up. ‘i did not know that.’

‘he denies it,’ jay shrugged, helping you lift the heavy bottle back up from the ground. ‘but we all see the way he looks at you. after he found out you were soulmate-less too, he wanted to ask you to the dance tonight. but when you said you weren’t going, he gave up on that idea.’

what were you supposed to say to that? as you placed the bottles beside the snack table, jay pushed them under it. turning around to see jungwon on the other side of the hall, you felt yourself swallowing your words before leaving to the outside again.

but avoiding jungwon wasn’t as easy as you had hoped. he seemed to be in your line of sight at all times and in all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were avoiding him. after all, if what jay said was true, then the feelings were mutual. still, you couldn’t shift your mind away from the shock you had felt at his touch. you thought maybe you were going crazy and had imagined it, until your phone buzzed with a notification.

leaving jay to bring in the rest of the drinks, you leaned against the exterior wall and pulled out your phone. a notification from soul watch lit up your phone, 0 days until you meet your soulmate. eyes wide, you looked around the area, hoping to see someone checking their phone in that same moment. was that even possible?

you weren’t sure what to do. search for your soulmate? or would they just come naturally to you? did this mean jay was your soulmate? it was a possibility, considering you were with him when the notification came through.

‘you coming inside?’ speak of the devil. you quickly hid you phone, putting on a fake smile and nodding. ‘people will start arriving soon.’

as soon as the hall began to fill up with people, you wished you had never came back inside. you really needed some time and space to think everything through. there was that electricity when jungwon had helped you up, but then you should’ve gotten the notification in that moment, right?

you grabbed your phone from your bag, going out into an empty corridor. sliding down the wall beside the door and pulling up the soul watch app, you searched your profile for details. but all the information it had was about your soulmate link, which happened to be a countdown. and now that the countdown was over, there were no more hints?

you were in complete disbelief, but the soulmate dance wasn’t the place to be researching this.

‘i guess you got it too,’ you looked up to see jungwon. ‘you’ve been avoiding me all day, so you must’ve.’

‘i have not been avoiding you,’ but the redness of your cheeks suggested otherwise. ‘and got what? i don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘a sudden notification that you’ve possibly met your soulmate...?’ he sat down beside you.

‘well actually,’ you could’ve laughed at how stupid you were about to sound. ‘i was avoiding you because of what jay said earlier. and i thought there was no way you could be my soulmate otherwise i would’ve received the notification after we bumped into each other.’

‘who else could possibly be your soulmate?’

‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ you turned your head to make eye contact. he quickly looked away and down at the floor, wishing he hadn’t been so bold with his last statement. jungwon was never this forward with people he wasn’t yet close to.

‘i know jay told you that i like you,’ he admitted. ‘and i’ve always known that you like me back. i just never thought to bring it up because i didn’t have a soulmate, and i thought you would have one.’

‘but you have a soulmate now,’ you reminded him, a smile lighting up your features. ‘or... however that works. do you think it has to do with us touching for the first time back then?’

‘you felt that too?!’ his eyes widened as he stared back at you. ‘i thought i was going crazy.’

‘do you want to go back inside?’ you gestured to the door into the main hall. jungwon shook his head, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

‘we could...’ he trailed off, looking behind himself at the exit. ‘or we could ditch this snooze fest and do something fun instead... like go to an arcade?’

‘sounds like a plan,’ you took his hand, letting him pull you up from the ground. he checked if the coast was clear before running towards the exit, the sound of your laughter filling the empty corridor.

[justanobsessedfangirl]

The Sacrifice Part 1 - The Maze Runner Minho Imagine

Request from @elizabeth-brown hey when your requests will be open can you do 'the maze runner' one with minho. where one day when new greenie was coming up he had letter with him. on it there was written that if they sacrificed y/n they would let everyone out. so keepers decided to vote. most of them voted 'yes' so without any emotions Alby kick y/n into the maze. then minho realized his feelings. y/n survived the maze and WCKED took her. after one year she escaped WCKED and ran into the scorch. Minho missed her miserably. y/n searched the safe heaven. and when Group A searched safe heaven they saw y/n and she was so mad. you can end it however you want either she forgives them or not. and please tag me

Masterlist

Part 2

Warning: Some mature language

Author’s Note: Thanks for waiting! I changed up the request a little (I think?) but there will probably be a part 2 so I can do the stuff outside the Glade. Hope you like it! Also, I know it seems like my requests aren’t open because I take forever to post, but I swear they are. :)

Word Count: 4.6k

The Box came up every month like clockwork. Half an hour before its arrival, a blaring alarm would sound. Gladers would trickle in from the Gardens, the Med-jack Hut, the Homestead, and gather around the hole. Those who had requested items would push their way to the front. Others lingered around the edges, hoping for a glimpse of the new Greenie.

“Maybe it’ll be another girl,” they’d whisper.

“Maybe it’ll be another shank,” their friends would whisper back, and the boys would shove each other and laugh and make jokes until the Box slotted into place and the roof slid away, revealing the Glade’s next victim.

You were an unnatural fit to the routine. You’d disrupted it right from the beginning, with your arrival as the first female Glader. Now, months later, you still hadn’t formed many strong bonds. It was hard when you were rarely in the Glade during the day, spending most of your hours mapping the Maze. No one was directly cruel when you had a day off, but it was clear that this was a brotherhood, and you did not meet the requirements. You were an “other.” You were a girl. You were something to be looked at and talked about but you weren’t necessarily someone.

You didn’t feel like an outsider when you ran with Minho. He treated you like a person. Like a friend. So did Newt, although your time with him was limited to bonfires, where you drank Gally’s moonshine and talked.

Just the memories of those nights made you feel warm, even as you stood apart from the boys around the Box and prayed for another girl to appear. You stood on your tiptoes and tried to peer over the crowd. Through gaps and over heads, you caught a glimpse of a boy in the Box. He was younger than you, probably younger than most of the people in the Glade, with curly brown hair, round pink cheeks, and wide, fear-filled eyes. 

Alby jumped down into the Box. Laughter rose from the crowd as the young Greenie backpedaled so wildly that he tripped over his feet and slammed onto his butt. Next to you, a group of Gladers jeered. You frowned at them, watching their smiles slip into sneers. They looked away from you. Inside the Box, the Greenie cried, “Please don’t hurt me!” His already high, youthful voice was pitched even higher with terror.

You felt a stab in your chest. He sounded so young, so alone, so scared. Taking a step forward, you came to the edge of a thick knot of Gladers. They catcalled and hollered and cackled, slapping each other on the backs. One noticed you and quickly jerked away like you were contagious.

Cheeks burning, you stepped back again. You gave the crowd one last look, heard the Greenie blubber one last time, and headed for the Homestead, where there was no one to make you feel unwelcome or weak for feeling sympathy for the new Greenie.

Besides, you thought bitterly, they might make fun of him now, but he’ll still be one of them.

A few Gladers saw you go; most were focused on the Greenie, who Alby was trying to coax to his side of the Box, where someone had dropped a length of rope. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Alby said. Impatience wore thin on his voice. “Just come over here.”

The Greenie stayed curled in a ball in the middle of the Box.

Alby shook his head. Turning to the pair of boys above him, he lowered his voice and said, “Do you think Y/N could try to get him out?”

The Gladers looked at each other.

“Isn’t she running today?” one asked.

“I haven’t seen her all day,” the other added.

Alby frowned. “Fine,” he sighed, “we’ll do it the hard way.”

At that, the two Gladers joined Alby in the Box. The Greenie’s eyes bulged as they approached. He tried to scoot back. In seconds, the pair was on him, lifting him as easily as if he weighed nothing. They toted him to the rope.

The Greenie gasped. “Wait! Wait! I dropped it!”

Alby waved the boys on before they could stop. “I’ll get it.” While the Gladers hoisted the Greenie out, Alby walked to the center of the Box. Laying on the metal floor was a card of paper, pristinely white save for the 10 grimy fingerprints of the crying Greenie. Alby knelt, picked it up, flipped it over, and froze.

It seemed like an eternity before he stood again. Around him, the Gladers still talked and laughed. Around him, the Gladers still thought they were following their routine.

Holding the note in his hand, Alby commanded, “Gathering in the Homestead. Now.” After a beat of silence, he added, “If Y/N’s here, bring her.”

The Glade burst into a flurry of activity. Boys scrambled, yelling the news. Their Keepers chastised them and handed out work orders like candy. Feeling brave and uninhibited and a little frenzied, Gladers complained and groaned and manhandled each other and ran. The new Greenie was handed off to a Builder, then a Slicer, then rescued by a Gardener. A pack of Gladers took off for the Homestead.

You’d barely made it inside before your moment of alone time was shattered. The boys whooped and hollered and shouted as they sprinted toward you.

“Gathering!”

“You have to go!”

“Alby called for a Gathering!

Their voices came at you like bullets, one after another after another. Your questions fell on deaf ears. “Why a Gathering? Now? Did you say I have to go?”

They kept talking to each other, ignoring you even as they pushed you farther inside, pushed you toward the meeting room, pushed you like you couldn’t even walk by yourself. You shoved away from them and entered the room on your own two shaky feet. Only a few of the Gladers followed, taking their seats as Keepers.

With a sick sludge of anxiety swirling in your stomach, you looked around the room. You’d never been to a Gathering before, although you’d listened to Minho complain about how boring they were many times. The room was small, the only furniture a crudely made table surrounded by twelve seats, one for each Keeper plus Alby and Newt. There was no seat for you. You were not supposed to be here.

“Clint, what’s going on?”

The Keeper of the Med-jacks looked up at the sound of your voice. He’d been staring at the tabletop, tracing his finger along the wood grain. His hands were thin, his fingers long, and they held a delicate strength, accustomed to wrapping wounds and sewing stitches. “Alby called a Gathering,” Clint said.

“Yeah, I figured that part out. Why? And why am I here?” You tried to keep your emotions under control. Clint didn’t need to know you were a little annoyed, a little angry, a little worried. Clint and the growing mob of Keepers filing into the room didn’t need to know you were scared.

Clint looked to the head of the table. Two empty chairs sat waiting. “Alby didn’t explain much. I think it was something to do with the Greenie.”

“The Greenie?” you asked, just as someone gave you a harsh nudge to the side. You whipped around and found yourself staring up at Gally.

“Don’t block the doorway,” he snapped. Before you could reply, Gally was walking past you, settling into the seat closest to the head of the table.

Most of the chairs were filled now. Some Keepers looked at you, others talked with their neighbors, and a few, like Clint, seemed like they’d rather be anywhere else but here. You lingered by the door. After a couple of minutes, Alby and Newt entered together.

You knew something was wrong immediately. Alby’s face, stoic at the best of times, was downright grim, like he’d just witnessed a terrible crime against humanity. Newt wouldn’t even lift his eyes to yours. His skin had taken on a pallor, pale white tinged with sickly green.

“Alby-”

Alby interrupted you. “Where’s Minho?”

You weren’t sure if he was asking you or the Keepers, but you answered anyway. “He’s running. What’s going-”

Cursing under his breath, Alby strode to the head of the table. “Someone got the schedules mixed up,” he fumed. “They thought you were running today. Minho is supposed to be here.”

“Maybe we should wait-”

“This can’t wait, Newt. You know that.” Alby shot Newt’s suggestion down before it even had time to breathe. “Y/N, take Minho’s seat. And someone shut the door.”

You didn’t like the way Alby was barking out orders or the way Newt had slumped into his seat like an admonished puppy. The whole world was off-kilter, just slightly, but enough that you felt nauseous and hyper-aware. Clint was still picking at the table. Winston was sitting next to Gally, who was staring daggers at you, and Zart, who had his arms crossed and was sitting straight in his chair, looked disgusted at something Doug, the Keeper of the Sloppers, had just said. Frypan was the one to get up and close the door, giving you a reassuring smile as he walked. You slowly made your way around the table to the only empty chair. It was across from Gally, right next to the side that Alby and Newt sat behind. 

Newt flinched away from you as you sat. Alby eyed you, waiting, waiting, waiting, and, finally, with the door closed and you perched on Minho’s chair, ready to bolt, he said, “We’re holding a Gathering because of this.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “The new Greenie was holding it.”

Down the table, Winston smirked. “Is that why he was crying? Poor thing can’t read?”

You frowned. One of the Keepers, Billy, chuckled lightly.

Alby ignored them and continued, “It’s a note from the Creators.” A few murmurs arose; Alby didn’t speak until it was silent again. “It says,” he cleared his throat and, next to him, Newt looked as if he might puke. “It says, ‘The Glade is failing. Show you can follow instructions and you will be released.’” Alby paused.

Unlike before, the Keepers stayed quiet. You were on the edge of your seat, listening with bated breath, like all of the others. Maybe the instructions involved finding something in the Maze? You knew you could help with that, and maybe Alby knew it too, and that’s why he’d made you attend the Gathering. You could nearly taste the freedom on your lips. Under the table, your legs shook with excitement, energy, adrenaline -- everything that made you feel alive. What would life be like outside the Glade? 

“Tell them the instructions, Alby,” Newt whispered, voice strained.

Your hopeful heartbeat faltered.

Alby’s eyes flicked up from the paper, met yours, and shot back down.

Something like dread filled your chest.

“‘Show you can follow instructions and you will be released,’” Alby repeated. He drew a deep breath before continuing. “Sacrifice Y/N to the Maze. Tonight.’”

One second passed. Inside that second, there was an eternity, an infinity, a lifetime. Your lifetime. Every limb of your body became paralyzed. You felt liquid. You felt insubstantial and invisible, only you were the farthest thing from invisible, because every single person in the room, all ten Keepers and Alby and Newt, even Newt, who wouldn’t meet your eyes before because he’d already condemned you to death, was staring.

And then the room roared.

“They’re lying!”

“That’s insane!”

“They can’t ask us to do that!”

“We can’t trust them!”

“I’m not doing that!”

“What if it’s true?”

The last voice, soft, barely audible, silenced everyone.

You stared at Gally, jaw dropped. “What?” You could barely speak above a whisper. Your vocal cords were constricting, choking you. Every breath felt like your last.

Gally’s gaze stayed on the letter in Alby’s hands. His eyes were glazed and his whole demeanor, normally stubborn and stand-offish, had shifted into quiet contemplation. “What if it’s true?” he murmured. “What if this is our way out? What if this is what we’ve been waiting for?”

The other Keepers began to speak. Instead of ardent protestations, you heard questions. So many questions and no definitive answers, except for Gally’s. The room spun around you, swirling, swirling, swirling. Your skin was flushed and cold and sweating and freezing all at the same time.

“He might be right,” you heard.

In an instant, you shot to your feet. The chair that Minho should have been sitting in clattered to the floor, silencing the Keepers. “Guys, this-this is insane,” you pleaded. Every face was a blur, a smear, no distinguishable people anywhere. You didn’t know a single boy in this room. “The Creators have never asked us to do something like this. They locked us in here! They-they...they put monsters in the Maze to kill us!”

“Maybe not to kill us.” Billy, the Keeper of the Baggers, was a boy of few words. He never seemed to have much to say, maybe because he’d gotten used to such solitary work. Most of the time, the only Gladers he was around were dead. “Maybe the monsters are there to kill you.”

Panicked tears burned in the corners of your eyes. Gally was nodding. So was Winston. Too many of them were nodding or looking down, pretending they didn’t have a say, hope gleaming in their eyes and betraying their thoughts.

You turned to your leaders. “Alby, this can’t--we can’t--”

“We’re going to vote on it.”

You switched tactics. “Newt. Newt, please, please look at me. This is crazy. We can get out without doing this, we can--I’ll run more and we’ll...we’ll figure something out, just, please, don’t--please just look at me.”

Newt slowly lifted his head. In the background, the Keepers talked, rising from their seats, growing more animated, more determined. Unshed tears glimmered in Newt’s eyes. “Y/N,” he said, and in your name you heard an apology. “This could be our only chance.”

“It can’t be.” You moved forward, desperate. “It can’t be our only chance, we’ll figure something out, I know we can, we just need to--” You were babbling and stepping closer and your hands reached out to grab his arms, to shake him, to knock some sense into all of them, and then Alby’s low, commanding voice rang out, ordering everyone to sit, and you were left standing, crying, terrified, and so, so, so alone.

“If anyone wants to see the note, there.” Alby dropped it onto the table. Across from you, Gally picked it up, scanned it, and passed it to the boy next to him, Winston. From Winston to Billy to Clint to Frypan to Ozzy to Doug to Zart to Leon. To you. With trembling hands, you held the note, saw the words, tried to read them and make sense of them, only nothing made sense at all.

Sacrifice Y/N to the Maze. Sacrifice Y/N. Sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice.

The more you repeated it in your head, the less real it sounded. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening.

“We have to make a decision,” Alby said.

Lungs squeezing painfully, you tried to speak. No words came out.

“I think it’s obvious,” Gally said. “Everything changed as soon as she got here. Now the Creators want us to do something, so we should do it.” He sounded more certain the more he spoke, his voice and words building to a persuasive, powerful crescendo.

“We could get out,” Winston added eagerly.

Clint pushed back his chair and slowly rose to his feet. He looked uncomfortable being the center of attention. One of his hands stayed on the table, scrambling for support. “I think it’s important,” he said, “that we think this through and give it the weight it deserves. This is someone’s life we’re talking about.”

It’s my life, you wanted to scream. I’ve tried to be a part of your group! I’m a Glader!

Clint continued. “But we also have to think about everyone else, too. I’m sorry, Y/N, I really am. But your sacrifice could mean that everyone else here can live.” Clint sunk back into his seat. “My vote is to obey the Creators.”

“Clint--” You were drowned out by Gally and Winston and Billy agreeing, formally voting to kill you. Gally nodded down at Ozzy, the Keeper of the Bricknicks, and then Ozzy said, “I vote to obey the Creators too.”

Leon agreed next. Leon, the Keeper of the Maps, who you’d spoken to nearly every day since becoming a Runner. Leon, who you’d sometimes traded jokes with and complimented for his drawing skills. Leon, who, after voting, said, “I’ve spent all of my time in the Glade trying to get out,” like it was an explanation you wanted to hear. Like it would mean it was okay for them to throw your life away. He wouldn’t look at you, still standing, half-slumped against the table as your legs wobbled with each vote that damned you to being ripped apart by Grievers.

“Guys, please,” you said, or you thought you said, but maybe they didn’t hear because now Frypan was standing up.

“I haven’t seen a Griever up close, I don’t know what it’s like in the Maze, and I don’t know what it’s like to patch up people who have done all of that. I know that Y/N’s a Glader. That’s all I need. I vote no.” Frypan nodded at you and sat back down, his normally easy-going face creased in deep thought.

One voice. One against six. But one was all you needed; one gave you a shot of strength, enough for you to straighten up, to open your mouth, to instead hear Doug say, “I haven’t done any of that either but I know that I don’t want to spend another goddamn minute in this Glade. I vote yes.”

The room spun. You looked down at your hands, found them in your lap, realized you were sitting but couldn’t remember ever doing so. Everything was slipping through your fingers so fast, too fast, impossibly fast.

Seven.

“My vote doesn’t matter much now,” Zart began, his words ponderous and slow. “But I vote no.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, as if daring anyone to question him.

Gally turned his attention to Alby and Newt instead. “So we’re doing it?”

Alby frowned. Newt buried his face in his hands. You thought you might pass out.

“Seven is a majority. It doesn’t matter our votes,” Alby said. “Or Minho’s.”

“Or mine.” The table turned to you. “I don’t get a say in any of this? It’s my life.” You knew your voice was too high-pitched, too warbled, too girlish to be taken seriously. You swallowed and it came out even more panicked. “You can’t just kill me with a one-vote difference, you can’t just--”

“It wouldn’t be a one-vote difference. I vote to obey the Creators.” Alby stared unwaveringly at you. “Newt agreed before the Gathering. That makes it nine to four, assuming Minho would vote not to obey.”

“Why?” It came out strangled and mangled and desperate.

“For the Glade,” Alby responded.

Newt suddenly looked up, shaking his head. “No, no, I take my vote back. I vote no. We can’t do this, Alby.”

“Eight to five. The majority says to obey. It happens tonight.”

“Alby--” “Alby, please,” You and Newt protested together, but Alby’s voice boomed over both of yours. “Gathering over. Gally, Winston, take Y/N to the Pit until tonight.”

Newt stood up too fast and stumbled, nearly crashing into the table. “We can’t put her in the Pit!”

The sound of arguing and chairs being pushed back washed over you, filling your ears with white noise. Chills raced up and down your spine, sending a clamminess to your hands and feet. You were going to die. You were going to be torn apart by Grievers, the very monsters you’d spent so much time running away from. It was almost ironic, really, and you almost laughed until you realized it was a sob, until you realized there were tears streaming down your face and there were two sets of hands grabbing you by the arms and hoisting you up and leading you out of the room and down the hall, practically dragging you for all of the good your feet did. And then you were in the doorway of a dark, windowless room, and Newt was standing in front of you. He enveloped you in a hug, spewing apologies about the vote and the room and your fate. All too soon, he pulled away. You saw his brown eyes and tear-streaked face. You saw the door close. You saw darkness.

You sagged to the floor and cried.

Hours passed. The room had no windows for you to watch the sun move across the sky, silently counting down to the end of your life. You had tried a few times to shove the door open,  but you only succeeded in bursting out between two strong Gladers. After the first time, they were ready for any attempt of yours to sprint past. Sometimes their voices would seep through the cracks in the wood. Apologies and excuses and pleas for you to please, just please, do this one thing for the Glade and help them all survive.

Part of you thought they were right. What if your sole purpose was to be a sacrifice? But then you thought of Minho and running and laughing and the few flickering memories you had from before the Glade, of an older couple smiling at you or the warm feeling of being loved, and you remembered how it felt to be alive. And you knew that it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, for anyone but you to get to decide your death.

Your time alone helped you think. It helped you settle yourself, calm your mind, and dry your tears. But as soon as the door opened and you saw the sunlight fading from the hallway, all of your carefully planned entreaties faded from your lips. Your throat went dry with impending doom.

“It’s time. Alby’s waiting by the Maze,” one of the Gladers said. You didn’t even know who he was. Why hadn’t you gotten closer to him? To all of them? Maybe if you hadn’t been so solitary, maybe you could have...or they could have...or maybe...

“What’s your name?” you heard yourself ask as the guards flanked you down the hall.

He gave you a look of confusion. “Rob.”

“Rob,” you repeated. Rob led the way outside. You glanced over your shoulder at the other Glader. “What about you?”

“I’m David,” the one behind you answered. He hastened to walk beside you. David had stubby legs, two of his steps matching one of yours. You picked up your pace. Rob matched it easily; David lagged.

Over the Glade, the sun was nearly below the horizon. Gladers milled about but kept their distance from you, trying not to stare at the doomed prisoner. It was like you were already dead. And no one cared.

The wall loomed high above you, growing as your entourage got closer and closer. Huddled near one of the entrances was a group of Gladers. When you neared a hundred feet away from them, you slowed. David followed suit immediately. Rob’s lengthy strides shortened.

“David, Rob,” you addressed them by name, not looking at either even as they faced you. “Thanks for walking with me.” Then you bolted for the Maze.

David had no chance of catching up to you, Rob was just stunned enough to give you the head start you needed, and the group of Gladers only shouted as you closed the distance to the door.

My choice, the pounding of your feet seemed to shout. My choice. My life. You may have been minutes away from death, but you had never felt so alive. Adrenaline flooded your body. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. All of the cold fear had been replaced by the warmth of energy. One last choice, you thought. The open door called to you. 20 feet. 5 feet. You’d just crossed the entrance when one voice made itself known above the crowd.

“Y/N!”

Every muscle tensed, you spun around to see Minho sprinting after you, the group of Gladers following, none as fast as your partner. He crashed into you with the tightest hug of your life. Your body reacted before your mind knew how; you hugged him back.

“I couldn’t let you go without seeing you,” Minho blurted, his lips an inch from your ear. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t…” he trailed off. Loosening his hold, he pulled back enough to see your face. He stared at you like he wanted to memorize you. “I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am, Y/N, I can’t let you do this yourself. With two of us we could--”

“Die. We’d both die.” You pulled him close again, burying your head back in the crook of his neck, hating the fear in his eyes. You’d wanted your last memory of him to be a smile, not this.

He spoke more softly now. “If we had supplies, I bet we could do it. I’ll raid the kitchen, the Med-jack Hut, bring us weapons. We could find the way out. You don’t have to die. You can’t die.”

You wanted him to stop talking, because you couldn’t extinguish the little flame of hope blooming in your chest if he kept feeding it. “Minho-”

Minho cut you off. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re fast, faster than me, and a hell of a lot smarter than all of these shanks combined. Survive the night. Survive the night and I can bring you supplies tomorrow.” His voice had an edge to it, a fierce desperation you’d never heard from Minho. Inside his encouragement, he was pleading with you. “Fuck, Y/N, please survive the night. Meet me at the intersection past the west door when the sun rises. I fell there the first time we ran together, remember? I said it was because you ran funny and it made me lose concentration but it was actually because you looked so beautiful in the sunrise that I couldn’t think.” He took a deep breath. Your heart beat too quickly, running on hope and support and maybe a little bit of love. When Minho spoke again, his voice was solemn, “I’ll find you, I swear to God. We’ll figure it out together. We’ll get out together.”

“I’ll survive.” You were lying. “I’ll try.” Was that another lie? Everything was moving too quickly.

Alby’s voice stopped you from thinking any further. “It’s time,” he intoned. 

From your place in Minho’s arms, you saw that the group of Gladers, composed mostly of Keepers, had surrounded you in a semicircle. The way forward was blocked; your only way out was the Maze.

You and Minho separated slowly. Behind you, the Maze rumbled. Still, Minho held your hand in his, looking physically pained. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, hoping, desperate, pleading. 

You nodded.

Minho shook his head. “Please say it back, Y/N. Please.”

You glanced at the door starting to close, then at Alby, who stared hard-eyed at you and motioned for the Gladers to press in. You couldn’t find Newt in the crowd. Minho’s hand was heavy and warm in yours. Comforting.

With your last moments in the Glade, you darted close to Minho, pressed your lips to his cheek, and then slipped away from him, entering the Maze. The door thudded closed behind you. The sun had set. You were alone.

[mcheang]

@pendoodlex Do an Adrien Salt where Lila lies about Chat Noir and Ladybug being in a relationship and Adrien confirms the lie.

It’s my love life!

It’s easy to lie about stuff people want to hear. Alya was greedy for any gossip about Ladybug and loved support for her theories on Ladybug.

Recently they debated on Ladybug’s true age. Was she an immortal with teenage hormones and atttiude? Or simply a teenager?

Now they were on to Ladybug’s love life.

Lila: Of course LadyNoir is a thing. Ladybug just denies it because she doesn’t want to give Hawkmoth any more reason to target Chat Noir, but it’s obvious how much they care for each other.

Alya: Yes! A witness to Ladynoir!

Marinette: a lying witness

Nathaniel frowned. “I don’t know, Lila…”

Before Lila could insist she was correct, Adrien actually jumped in. “It’s true. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple. Sorry, Nathaniel, but she’s off the market.”

Marinette froze. Did Adrien just lie to Nathaniel about her love life? Just so no one would interfere with their beloved Ladynoir fandom?

WTH???

Overwhelmed by her hurt and rage, Marinette actually grabbed Adrien’s hand and dragged him out of the classroom, her face burning red.

Some assumed she was trying out another one of her confession schemes. Lila thought Marinette was going to tell Adrien she was a liar (eh, he already knew.)

In a far off corner, Marinette was whisper-yelling at Adrien. “What are you thinking? It’s one thing to ignore Lila’s lies, it’s another to endorse them! LadyNoir is not real!”

Thinking that Marinette still had a crush on Chat Noir, Adrien winced and rubbed his head. “I’m sorry, Marinette. But it’s true. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple.”

“No, they are not! Where’s your proof?“ She demanded.

Adrien thought quickly. “I saw them kissing on a rooftop last week.”

Marinette raised a brow. “Are you sure you weren’t just dreaming?” Her voice was heavy with skepticism.

Adrien: Positive.

Marinette: Well, I’m not sorry to say that you’re wrong. Ladybug and Chat Noir are not a couple.

Adrien: and how are you so sure? Just because you have a crush on Chat-

Marinette: Because Ladybug visited me after my dad was akumatized!

Adrien:…what?

Marinette took a deep breath. She hated lying but she also couldn’t stand lies about her.

“Ladybug consoled me after Chat rejected me. She reminded me about the other great boys in my life and ones I have yet to meet. And I asked her why she wouldn’t date Chat. Do you know what she told me?”

Adrien was quiet.

“She said she was in love with a boy from her own civilian life, not Chat Noir. To be honest, he’s not even her type.”

Adrien perked up. “Ladybug has a type?”

Marinette: Obviously. From what I hear, she’s more into the sensitive soul kind of guy.

Adrien: Chat is sensitive!

Marinette just stared at her crush in disbelief. “Um, yeah, no. The dude sulks whenever he gets rejected and has no idea what no means. For crying out loud, he gave me a pink rose before dumping me, and that was after he ate the treats my dad baked for him.”

Adrien: For someone with a crush on the hero, you sure sound bitter.

Marinette exhaled again, calming herself. “I’m not bitter. I’ve moved on, truly. Enough to see what Ladybug meant when she said I’ll move on soon enough. I’m over Chat.“

Adrien raise his brows.

Marinette continued, “I’ve been able to analyse his actions without the hero-crush filters. Be honest, Adrien, how would you feel at having to constantly reject the same person over and over again? Wouldn’t you be annoyed by their repeated flirtations?”

Adrien shrugged. “I reject fans all the time. Well, not exactly. I just ignore their love letters.“

Marinette shook her head. “That doesn’t count. You don’t know those people. Let’s say Chloe was going to confess her love to you every day. And you have to reject her every day. When you reject her, she raises a fuss and causes an akuma. How would you feel about your childhood friend?”

Adrien grimaced. “That would suck. I would avoid Chloe just to avoid her confessions.”

Marinette raised her hand, like there you go. Point proven.

Adrien wasn’t done. “But,” he insisted stubbornly, “it’s different for LadyNoir. They’re partners. Yin and Yang. A superhero duo. Who else is she going to end up with if not her partner? These kinds of pairings always win in the end.”

Marinette: that’s just sad. You’re comparing Ladybug’s love life to fiction. Life isn’t a fairy tale, Adrien. you don’t decide who Ladybug ends up with, and it’s not right for you to lie about her either.

Adrien: LadyNoir will happen. I’m sure of it.

Marinette: You’re not even going to take back that lie, are you?

Adrien: Why would I? It’s going to be fact.

Marinette said sadly, “Goodbye, Adrien.”

After school, Marinette tore down her posters of Adrien. Filters removed, indeed.

Tikki: Don’t worry, Marinette. I’m sure things will come right in the end.

Marinette: that doesn’t mean I can’t help set things back in order. Tikki, spots on!

Alya turned around at a tapping on her window.

Alya: Ladybug!

Ladybug: Hey, Alya. Listen, I’ve been reading your blog, and I need to set some facts straight.

Alya: Is this about revealing your love life? Because honestly, it would be better to be honest about your love life than to let others hope they have a shot with you. Remember Copycat?

Ladybug: That’s my point. I’m not dating Chat Noir. I don’t even like him that way. Lila has been lying to you, Alya.

Alya: Um, she’s your Best Friend…

Ladybug: When did I ever say that?

Alya:…….. ……….Why didn’t you correct me before today, then?

Ladybug sighed. “Because i had called her out in front of Adrien, and she got akumatized. And when she disappeared for a while, I figured there was no need to bring her up.“

Alya: Hold on. Adrien knew Lila was lying?

Ladybug: Yes. Though I’m sure he must have his own reasons for protecting Lila. But back to my point. I am not dating Chat Noir, and I am not interested in him like that. My love life is mine to decide, not for others to insist on just because they prefer me with Chat. How would you like it if Parisians started pairing you with Pegasus or Monkey King instead of Carapace? With them insisting you break up with Nino just to be with someone they chose for you?”

“That would be annoying,“ admitted Alya. “And invasive.”

Ladybug: I want to do a live interview, to clear the matter up once and for all.

In this interview, Ladybug was professional and succinct as she stated she doesn’t know Lila Rossi and she is not in a relationship with Chat. She doesn’t want to hurt her fans, but her love life is for her to handle.

Unable to help herself, Alya asked, “If you don’t like Chat, who do you like? You don’t have to give any names, but just one little tidbit, please?”

Eh, why not?

Ladybug leaned back on her hands and smiled, her eyes going faraway and dreamy. “Mature. That’s all I’ll say.”

After all, Luka had always supported her crush on Adrien. He never pushed her, but was always there for her. Why didn’t she how good he was? Oh right, Adrien filters.

Lila was fuming. How could she show her face again? Where was an akuma when you wanted one?

The akuma was drawn to a LadyNoir fanatic.

Fight fight fight. Chat was noticeably sulky at having been rejected on air.

When Alya came over to interview, he insisted he would not give up on Ladybug. Alya raised her brows, “Yeah that’s fine. But just don’t be pushy about it. And from your attitude earlier during the battle, I don’t think you fit Ladybug’s ideal criteria.”

Chat flushed and turned away, using his baton to propel himself home.

At school, Lila was playing truant, and Alya was grilling Adrien for keeping quiet.

Adrien: her lies weren’t hurting anyone!

Alya: I’m taking into account your isolated childhood, so let me just say, lies are hurtful. And it’s not right to encourage and spread her lies either.

Adrien: LadyNoir has to happen!

Nino shook his head in disgust. “You sound like that akuma last night. Ladybug has the right to decide who she wants to be with. If you ship LadyNoir, that’s fine. But you shouldn’t let it get this far to decide for Ladybug who she ends up with.”

Alya sighed, “Let’s blame Gabriel for this and hope Adrien can still be saved.”

Alya also understood when Marinette gave up on Adrien after seeing his behavior. She was interested in Luka but decided to wait because she didn’t want him to be a rebound guy.

Anyway, Adrien learned to keep his opinions to himself when all they got him was disapproval.

Ladybug’s interview caused the Parisians to question if the Italian diplomat should even still be in Paris if her daughter likes to spout lies about their heroine. How could she let her own daughter lie about stuff like that? It was enough that Mrs Rossi was questioned at work and her ignorance unveiled.

Yeah, Mrs Rossi would be lucky to keep her job after this but it was suggested Lila be sent outside Paris since she would certainly be unhappy with her new pariah status. Lila was sent to a correctional facility where no one was charmed by her falsehoods. Hell, she couldn’t even contact her mother because she was even busier trying to make amends.

When Ladybug finally told Chat she was happily in a relationship with her new boyfriend, he was sulky. Oh sure, he continued to fight alongside Ladybug but he was hopeful that she would break up with her boyfriend.

Plagg: that’s a horrible reaction. Can’t you just be happy for Ladybug?

Adrien: love is irrational and can’t be reasoned with, Plagg.

Plagg: then can you at least be polite and respectful to Ladybug’s wishes that you stop flirting with her?

Adrien: fine. Being Chat Noir was a chance to finally express myself, though.

Plagg: there’s a difference between freedom of expression and being rude/disrespectful/obnoxious

Adrien tried to date Kagami, but she broke up with him. There was no point in continuing the relationship when Adrien was so fixed on Ladybug.

I’m gonna leave this open ended. Any ideas how you would end this story?

[stolen-pen-name23]

“it’s nothing. it’s just a bruise.” with Obi-wan?

Hello again, my friend!! Thanks you for the prompt!! This onee kinda got away from me so I posted it on Ao3, but you can read the whole thing under the cut too!

Read on Ao3

Anakin didn’t really know this Obi-Wan person all that well yet, but he could tell there was something wrong with him. Well, something wrong besides the quiet mourning he was clearly trying to keep hidden. He wasn’t all that successful, but Anakin wasn’t going to call him out on it.

Of course, Anakin was sad too. As if it wasn’t enough that his mother could not come with him, the man who had finally managed to free him was dead.

But Anakin knew that Obi-Wan was feeling the loss more acutely. Anakin could sense that Obi-Wan had held great respect, admiration and love for his late Master. He could also sense his grief, even if he was skilled at hiding it behind walls.

That didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the way Obi-Wan was pale and shaking slightly underneath all of his robes. He was sitting hunched forward on the little couch in their quarters, his elbows on his knees. His gaze was unfocused, and as far as Anakin could tell, he hadn’t eaten anything recently either.

“Mr. Kenobi sir?” Anakin said shyly.

Slowly, Obi-Wan’s gaze turned to Anakin. He looked like he was trying to focus his eyes. “I told you that you can just call me Master or Obi-Wan if you prefer,” he said softly.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin corrected. “Are you alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded the affirmative, but Anakin wasn’t convinced.

“You’re not looking so good.”

“I’m fine, Anakin.”

“Do you want me to get you something to eat?” Anakin actually had no idea how he would acquire food for Obi-Wan. He didn’t know where anything was, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to cook anything. But if Obi-Wan wanted something, Anakin would do his best to get it for him.

“No, I’m fine. Not really hungry.”

Anakin frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded sullenly. “I’m sure. I’m going to go to bed though. I know it’s early for you. You can stay out here and watch the holo if you want, I guess. Just… Don’t wander alone in the halls yet. I don’t want you to get lost.”

Anakin didn’t want to get lost either. The temple was huge and this morning when Obi-Wan had given him the tour, the other padawans stared at him. Even some of the knights and masters stared at him. No, he had no desire to leave the safety of their quarters just yet.

Anakin couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. This was officially his first night in the temple. They had arrived from Naboo this morning and they had gotten situated in the small apartment. He’d hoped Obi-Wan would have wanted to spend a little more time with him, getting to know him and all that.

“Okay, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said quietly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, but the look on his face indicated the word felt weird on his lips. He shook his head. “Good night, Anakin.”

Anakin nodded at him as he took his leave.

Anakin sighed and flipped on the holo. He’d never had a holo before, but he quickly figured out how to work it. He stared at the moving images in wonderment, flipping through channel after channel, never settling on one thing – just content to watch the moving images.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard shuffling from the hallway behind him. He turned around and saw Obi-Wan stumbling towards the fresher. Anakin flicked off the holo and raced after Obi-Wan.

When he got to the fresher, Obi-Wan was already there, leaning heavily over the toilet and heaving into it.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked nervously. “Are you okay?”

Anakin cringed. Of course he wasn’t okay. It was a dumb question, though it didn’t seem to matter. Obi-Wan couldn’t answer him at the moment anyway.

Anakin tried to remember everything that his mother had ever done for him when he was sick. He remembered his mom rubbing his back. Slowly, Anakin approached Obi-Wan and laid a gentle hand on his back.

Obi-Wan yelped and jumped sideways as far as he could in his weakened state. Anakin yanked his hand back in alarm.

“What—”

Obi-Wan was breathing heavily and his eyes were squeezed shut.

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, his voice coming out smaller and squeakier than he would like.

“It’s nothing, it’s just a bruise,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“A bruise?”

“On my back,” Obi-Wan panted.

Anakin took a step closer to him. “Can I look?”

Obi-Wan looked a little unsure. “Yes,” he finally said.

With careful fingers, Anakin slowly lifted up Obi-Wan’s shirt. He gasped at the dark purple bruising all over his back. His stomach sank. He immediately turned and looked at the contents of the toilet and then back at Obi-Wan. It was only then that he realized there was blood on his lips and his chin.

“Obi-Wan, you need a healer,” Anakin said, panic rising in his voice. “You… you’re throwing up blood that’s not… when the slaves would get beaten too hard they…”

“Shhh, Anakin, it’s alright.”

“No!” Anakin shouted. “No, you’re… you’re dying and I—”

“I’m not dying,” Obi-Wan said. He put his hands on the ground and moved to stand up. It was an ill-conceived attempt. He fell back down to the ground with a soft thud. He looked up at Anakin but his eyes were unfocused. “Okay, maybe that’s not a good sign.”

Obi-Wan coughed and blood spluttered out of his mouth. “Yeah, not a good sign,” he murmured.

Anakin’s panic rose. “What do we do?”

Obi-Wan lay down fully on the tile floor. He glanced up at Anakin. “Go find a healer.”

“What?”

“In the halls of healing. Remember, I showed it to you this morning when I took you around the temple? Go there and find someone. They can help.”

Anakin nodded. “Okay,” he said, trying to make his voice sound even and sure. “Just stay here, don’t try to get up.”

“Don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

From the look on Obi-Wan’s face, Anakin could tell that he meant it to sound light-hearted, but it only added to Anakin’s worry. He gave Obi-Wan a parting glance before darting off into their quarters and out the front door. He ran in the direction of the halls of healing, or at least he ran in the direction he thought the halls of healing were in. The more he ran, the less familiar everything appeared. Anakin paused when he entered a great room with large pillars and beautiful art on all the walls. He had no idea where he was and his eyes welled up with tears.

“Hey little one,” a female voice said from behind him. “Are you okay?”

Anakin whirled around and came face to face with a tall, pink-skinned mon calamari woman. “Um.”

“You must be Anakin,” the woman said. “I’ve been very excited to meet you. Where’s your Master?”

The tears welling up in Anakin’s eyes spilled over.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, little one?”

“Obi-Wan is hurt and he... he sent me to get a healer but I— I don’t know where to go,” Anakin said around choked sobs.

The woman’s face turned serious. “He sent you to get a healer?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m a healer. Come with me,” she said. She reached out a webbed hand and Anakin took it, grateful for the direction and the physical comfort of it.

They made their way back to Obi-Wan.

***

An unshakeable feeling of heaviness was what greeted Obi-Wan when he woke up. He groaned and fluttered his eyes open. A figure stood before him, and his eyes focused to reveal Master Che. He groaned again.

“Glad to see you’re still with us,” she said. “Thank the Force Anakin was able to find Bant and they got to you when they did.”

“Huh?”

“You had your new Padawan worried sick. Poor kid,” Vokara said, shaking her head.

“‘kin?” Obi-Wan asked. “Where?”

“He’s fine. He’s with Bant right now. She’s showing him her medical instruments.”

“Oh. That’s good. What happened?”

“I was kind of hoping you would tell me that,” Vokara Che said, fixing him with a glare. “You had internal bleeding, Obi-Wan. Your kidneys were failing. There were massive bruises on your back. How did you even get those?

Oh. Oh yeah.

“During the fight with the… with the Sith. I fell off a catwalk and landed on another one below it. Landed on my back,” Obi-Wan said weakly.

“Obi-Wan that was three days ago,” Vokara said. “You’re lucky it wasn’t initially too severe.”

“Initially?”

“You would have been fine if you immediately got medical treatment.”

“I was busy,” Obi-Wan said simply. It was true. He had to tend to the hasty funeral arrangments and then the parade and then he had to take Anakin back to Coruscant and then he had to convince the Council to let him keep him and then… well then his body had started to give out on him. Vokara gave him a sympathetic look. He felt small underneath it.

“I know. But you need to take care of yourself. You have a Padawan now.”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched.

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Vokara Che said. She squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be alright.”

He put his face in his hands and stifled a sob.

“It’ll be alright,” Vokara Che repeated. “Trust in the Force.”

Obi-Wan nodded, sniffed and steeled himself. “Right. Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ve been through a lot, young Kenobi.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he offered a simple nod.

“Is it alright if I go get Anakin?” Vokara asked. “He’s been dying to see you.”

“That’s fine,” Obi-Wan said. Vokara turned and left, presumably to retrieve Anakin.

In truth, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he wanted his brand new Padawan to see him like this, but he knew it was important for the boy to see that he was okay — that he still had someone in this strange new place to stand by his side.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin shouted as he burst through the door. Obi-Wan winced.

“Oh, sorry,” Anakin said in a whisper this time.

“It’s alright.”

“Are you okay?” Anakin asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, Anakin.”

“That’s good. I don’t really know anyone else here. Well, actually, I know Miss Bant now and she’s really nice, but I don’t really know anyone else and I like you and I—”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly. “Volume.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Obi-Wan played with a loose string on the edge of his blanket. He ripped a few of the stitches but stopped before he could do any more damage to the innocent garment. He could feel Anakin hovering awkwardly next to him.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know? You can go back to our quarters if you want.”

Anakin shook his head vigorously. “No, I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I– I don’t know how to get there.”

Oh. Right.

“Well, I’m sure Bant or one of the other healers would be more than willing to—”

“No!” Anakin said quickly. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the little wave of warmth that filled his chest. “Okay,” he said. He then patted the bedsheets and nodded his head. “Come on then.”

Anakin gave a wide, toothy grin before he climbed up and snuggled himself into the cramped little space right next to Obi-Wan.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Anakin asked.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said. “Yeah, I’m alright. Let’s just get some sleep okay?”

“Okay,” Anakin said softly, his eyelids already fluttering closed. “Goodnight, Master Obi-Wan.”

“Goodnight, Padawan.”

[saturatedboy]

Hey can you do a fic of Lady Alcina x GN!reader where the reader has ADHD so little things just gets forgotten and jumping topics so fast it’s kinda hard for Alcina at first and she’ll get frustrated but still loves the reader just how they are? If so that would be fantastic! Have a great day!!

Alcina Dimitrescu x GN!Reader

My apologise for taking a while, a thunder and lightning storm happened near me and it blew up the fuse to my internet box. But I'm here with more writing so I hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open

Words: 2.5k

The vast castle that had loomed over the Village of Shadows had always been ancient and portentous. The unknown creatures however that hovered over the sky close to the pole towers were always a great sight to see from the village. However, those who live far away from the castle merely thought to them to be birds with a wide wing span that would fly around and bless the castle with their saint fortune- however if you knew the castle and it's true owners, you would find everything to be more depraved of it's fake nature.

Humming softly, you dragged the wooden comb through your strands, being careful to not pull on any knotted ends too hard. You stared at the mirror with soft eyes, it had been quite the evening for you after the day being filled with lessons on acting like a true noble. You could hear the young ladies down the extended corridors, arguing over who would get the first drop of the sweetness a simple maid had once carried. Although not a vampire yourself, you strived yourself to be lucky amongst those who were caught in any of the young and head mistresses claws. Ah, the mistress. The simple thought of her had brought a rose tint to your cheeks, you smiling unconsciously as you let your mind wander off into far lands that were filled with no violence, only peace amongst the dammed. Only a sudden knock had transported you back into the real world. Coughing, you placed the comb down on the vanity and turned on your buffet, facing the door with hands folded on your lap. "You may enter," You spoke out loud, awaiting the turning of the knob.

The sound of slight clicking of the knob being turned brought your full attention to whoever was to enter. The door became ajar, then pushed to an opening with the guilty entering. A wide smile had stretched it's way onto your face as you stood to greet the one who knocked. Bowing your head slightly, you raised it to be met with the eyes of the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu. "My lady."

"My darling," She spoke back, closing the door behind her as she looked down upon your small form, however still slightly taller than her three daughters. Seeing your smile brought one onto her face, her eyes gleaming softly at your relaxed state. Looking around your neatly tided room, she let her eyes graze back over to yours and tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. "Why are you still awake? You should be asleep by now."

Awkwardly, you had bit your bottom lip and looked away in shame. Any of the pink fairy dust that was once coating your cheeks had turned deeper than the pinks in a sunset. "Well, my lady, you see I-" You had quickly cut yourself off. You weren't going to tell her that you was awake because you could hear the cries of the maid. And no you weren't going to tell her that she had been running on your mind either-

"Well?" She softly asked as she crossed her arms under her chest, placing herself to sit on the end of your bed as she watched you fiddle with your fingers with a long-lost look within your eyes.

"I'm just feeling energised." You saved yourself as you silently thanked your mind for quick thinking. Well, you weren't exactly lying but at the same time you had been because the cries of the maid had woken you from your slumber. Not wanting to get into any sort of trouble with the Lady. Lady Dimitrescu nodded in reply, not fully understand to why you would be energised after a long day of training to be a noble but none the less, she was glad you weren't hurt at all or hiding any sort of pain.

"Hm, I suppose that may makes sense. Though I don't remember you having any sort of sugary treats to be feeling so much energy to stay awake..." Dimitrescu had trailed of at the end, instantly becoming entranced when you had grabbed the comb once again and brushed through your hair. Tutting slightly, she stood and walked over to your sitting form, plucking the brush from your hand and using it to comb your hair for you. "Your combing wrongly, follow the flow of your hair- don't try to change it's path."

Feeling her gentleness as she combed through your hair had made you start to fidget in your seat. Although you loved the feeling of her hands caressing your hair, there was something about it that made you want to adventure further. You didn't want to stay here, no you couldn't. This wasn't right sitting here anymore. The feeling was so sudden- and you knew why. Arguing in your head, you dragged your mind away from the reality of the world into a blank space where you could try sort out these mixed emotions. However as you were away from the reality, your body had reacted on its own recordings. Your leg began to bounce with your hands intertwining with one another then letting go only for them to become fists. Without any thought of it, Alcina hadn't notice your sudden change in mood, she was too focused on trying to get a certain knot out of your hair.

Yourself on the other hand, was stuck fighting for movement or staying in place. It wasn't till the noise of wood being placed back onto your vanity and the hand that had blocked your view from the mirror that brought you away from your argument. Without a second thought, you stood abruptly and turned to face Alcina with a wide smile. "We should go for a stroll! The night will be young and I'm sure the young mistresses will be busy with their feeding tonight. How about it my Lady?" You held your hand out, your white tunic and grey pants had provided enough heat for you to want a walk in the breeze of the lost screams within the castle.

Alcina had looked at your hand, so small and doll-like. Holding your hand normally brought great warmth to her soul. The feeling of a human being alive and wanting to be close to her had always brought a soft, comforting feeling. And she had only felt that with you. So, wanting to feel the same feeling again she cupped your small hand within her own and used her other hand to straighten out her hat. "Lead the way my love."

Within no second to spare, you speed-walked out of your room and practically dragged the Lady behind you. Why were you so excited for a walk? She had no clue to what was exactly going on in your mind, she never understood what was on your mind but that was because she couldn't read you like an open book. She had always had people praise her like some Goddess which brought much pride to her, but seeing you hold her hand and walk with her like she was a regular person- maybe like what the children would do in the village when they found something interesting and wanted a parent to see it quickly- that what you had reminded her off. "My darling, aren't you going a little fast?" She asked, although having no problem keeping you with your speed, she found it unusual for you to be walking at this speed.

"Nope! Now come on, we have the castle to explore more of!" You giggled and and bopped your head side to side like you were listening to silent music. "Oh! When we explore the castle we should play hide and seek! Do you think the other girls would love to join, I'm sure they would! Ooo maybe you could teaching me how to sort out flowers to make a beautiful boutique like you had done once when Lady Beneviento was over!" Your rambled on about activities you both could do as you let go of Alcina's hand and walked off by yourself. Your stranded look had brought Alncia to be slightly worried about your change of state. Being quick, Alcina followed behind you keeping close tabs on trying to make out what you was saying since you were getting further ahead of her.

"Darling....Darling!" She called out as you kept walking onwards, twisting through the hallways and moving yourself out of the way for any maids that were walking around or cleaning the hallways. Alcina shook her head and sped walked to catch up to you so she could take swiftly your arm within her grasp to make you stop walking away from her. The sudden yank that she gave you made you lock your lips together and looked up at her over your shoulder. "Darling your speaking too quickly and mumbling half of it. Speak with a clear tone and articulation. I taught you this today before you went up to bed."

You looked at her with glossy eyes that held your innocence. Her figure over you had somewhat calmed your mind to rest, or maybe it was her touch- you couldn't decide on which. You focused on her hand around your arm, her fingers going back to her palm as her larger hands captured your arm within her grip- no movement could make you escape. You opened your mouth to speak up but your words were caught in your throat. Again you tried but only slight noises of struggle came out. Taking a deep breath, Alcina sighed out in annoyance and rolled her eyes. "Would you mind telling me what's going on. One minute your relaxed, the next your up and walking away like you have to catch a carriage. You're also changing your mind on what to do-Sweetie you said you wanted to go for a walk."

Trailing your eyes from her hand up her arm and peering at her face, you saw a clear look of her being stumped with your actions. Pulling your arm out of her grip, you cradled it close to your chest. "I'm sorry." Was all you could mutter before taking a deep breath in and out, steading your breathing after the fast walk you had travelled with. Leaning against the closest wall in the hallway, you swept strands out from your eyes and gazed down at the wooden floor with deep crimson carpets. "I've always been like this- It's something that is hard to control." You gathered the small courage to face her again, looking at her with a guilty stare.

Alcina patted her dress down as she heard your voice speak. She had no way in understanding why you act like this because this was the first time it happened so suddenly and well- she hadn't been a human for a very long time now. You remembered times before you came to the castle that down in the village you would take off through the woods to lose the energy you gained for no reason and speak to any animal life you could find. It was much more relaxing to talk to someone who couldn't say anything back- you couldn't interrupt anyone or get the harsh reply of 'Stay on a subject' because your mind jumped from one thing to another. That was actually how you met the Lady of the castle in the first place, and it was the first place you confessed your dying love to her. But now- everything happened without yourself even realising it was happening, you felt like the one to blame for putting the Lady in this position of following you about and practically making her own mind run in circles.

A delicate hand lifted your chin that had dropped to rest on your chest, a finger running along your bottom lip. The hand belonged to Alcina whom had knelt to the floor in front of you. "(Y/n)." She spoke your name with tenderness and a tone that would forever make your heart melt with affection. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If this is how you are, then I love you for who you are." She felt your lip quiver under her thumb, her other hand pulling you into her chest where soft sobs had came from your mouth. She held you close, humming a tune to calm you down. Your salty tears had wet her long white dress, but she didn't care. She cared for the fact that you had been dealing with something that had made you think you were in the wrong for feeling it. "If you wish to ramble about anything on your mind, go ahead. Tell me stories, tell me knowledge, tell me how you feel. I will listen to everything to have to say- even if it does get mixed up that's okay." With a vision blurred, you tilted your head up to look at her as yo used your hands to clear the spots of wetness of your face. "I may not be able to fully understand, but I chose to love you and that means anything that you come with is something I adore my dearest."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you felt her hand glide itself down under your arm and slightly tickle you. "W-wait that tickles-"

"Oh I know~" She whispered into your ear and she playfully picked you up in bridal style within her arms and began her own journey somewhere. Still watching her face and feeling her arms wrapped tightly around your form, you couldn't help but wonder what she was doing.

"Where are we going? Are we going outside or are we going back to my room?" You asked as you continued to clear your eyesight from the specks of fuzzy marks. Adjusting you in her arms slightly so she could instead carry you with your head resting on her shoulder as she held you under your behind and legs wrapped around her upper torso, she replied.

"We are going to find my three daughters and tonight as a family we shall play games. A game night. I figure we both could need one of those especially your hard work of being a noble." She kissed your cheek as she carried on walking, you on the other hand had tried to say something again but it came out with stutters.

"But what if I talk about something stupid or make a fool of myself. Maybe I might not be able to sleep and you need your rest m'lady,"

"Oh darling, I wouldn't sleep without knowing my precious dearest is safe and sound under my gaze. If you can't fall asleep still we shall sit by the fire in the main room and I'll read whatever you wish for." Her words were sincere. She was being truthful. She didn't need to know about your condition, she just understood that she will be there for you in your tightest moments and fit what is right for you. And anyway, she also loved your voice- it was secretly one of her favourite features about you. Why wouldn't she want to listen to you, anything to hear her dearest talk would make her heart swoon with love.

Only a love that she was willing to give to you.

[thesmokingguns]

Not with the band

summary: hi everyone, I wrote this for @ayablackwood . I hope you like it!

A/N: this is my longest oneshot and I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you for Reading. If you want to make a request for a fix either message me or you can request HERE. Thank you!

tag list: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore

Word Count:6102

Izzy POV

The first thing I noticed about her was the big brown eyes. Sad eyes that showed she had lived her life and seen a few things in her time. I had never noticed a girl's eyelashes before but I could see  the long black lashes sweeping down, staring at her drink before looking back up almost doing a reset. Maybe she was like me and thought that these parties took a lot out of a person. The constant talking to strangers, faking politeness or interest in a conversation with someone.

I got a reputation for being indifferent, a quiet introspective sort of person who didn't care about others. But that wasn’t who I was; I just found most people were just boring to be around. There are only so many times you can talk about your band before you realize that it’s not your band they care about. Most girls I met just wanted to sleep with me. It wasn’t even that they wanted to sleep with me but that they wanted to sleep with the guitarist from Guns n Roses. And that was fine. I had no problem sleeping with the girls who didn’t require me to put in any effort because I wasn’t going to waste my time trying to woo them.

But as I watched this stranger across the room, I couldn't help but start to think about who she was. I noticed she had a nervous tick of pushing her straight black hair behind her ear when men came up to her and when she was talking to her friends she’d place her hands on their forearms almost whispering secrets into their ears. She played with the tab of her beer can, the one she only sipped a couple times in the hour that I had been watching her. She wasn’t wearing skyrocketing heels or lace dresses. She had on a button up summer dress with a collar and short sleeves. Every once and a whole she’d stuff her hand in a pocket, letting her eyes sweep the room for someone she knew. She looked ready for a church picnic and not the rock and roll party at a beach house that would probably stretch though the entire weekend. She didn’t even seem to notice that she wasn’t all teased up 80’s glam; she was comfortable in her.

I had no idea who she was or who she came with but I couldn’t stop staring at her. She drank beer instead of the usual wine or booze that the girls at these parties consumed and instead of hanging out near a band member she was around other girls.  They all seemed to come over to her, leaning close to whisper secrets in her ear, the sly smiles they spread across their faces. How did she know so many people here and I had no idea who she was? Finally, Axl’s girlfriend laced their arms, dragging her over to the couch where Axl and I were both sitting, giving me a chance to get to know her.

“This is Y/N, she’s my best friend. Y/N this is Axl and Izzy.'' When the introduction was done she pulled her down on the couch, our legs touching from the close proximity. I watched her lick her lips, turning to lean close to me so she could talk and have me hear what she was saying. I could smell her shampoo, like lavender, and feel the warmth of her body as she gave me a conspiratory look. It was intoxicating being this close to her and having her overwhelm my senses.

“I’m everyone’s best friend because I’m usually the designated driver.” she joked, the smile breaking out over her face like she was sharing this joke with me. Holy shit, it was like staring into the sun when her smile spread across her face, warming up those sad brown eyes and showing a twinkle of joy.

Hook, line, and sinker. I never reacted to a girl like this before and now this stranger was beside me on the couch and I couldn’t even think of something to say. All I could think about was how soft her hair looked and how much I wanted to wrap my fingers around a silky lock. Or how her nails weren’t painted the fashionable red or the neon colors but this soft pink. Everything about her seemed to stick out or maybe she was just sticking out to me because I was already obsessed with her.

“I’m Izzy.” She gave me a look and I realized that introductions had already been made and I was just making a fool of myself. This is exactly what I get for spacing out in so many conversations with girls. I lost any sort of ability to communicate with someone. “Do you want to get out of here?” Following up my reintroduction of myself with a line that I had used on a bunch of one night stands that I had wanted to stop talking about. It was that instant feeling of regret seeping into me.

“No, I don’t.” She didn’t give me any other explanation, only got up from the couch, headed over to a group of people and blended into them with ease. She hadn't even given me a look when she left.

“You have been staring at  Y/N all night and I got her to come and sit down next to you and not even five minutes later you screwed it up. What did you say to her?” the girl on Axl’s lap asked me. I felt like a kid being scolded by my parents and even felt a burning in my cheeks.

“I’ll fix it, don’t worry.” I was standing up, walking across the room to where she was standing. It had been months, maybe years since I went up to a girl and not just let them come up to me. It was like she felt me coming, her head turning, eyes meeting mine and suddenly I was forgetting everything that I had prepared in my mind. Just the way she looked at me had me forgetting the apology that I had in my mind. “Just grabbing a beer.” I reached around her grabbing a beer from the bucket on the table watching her eyes follow me. Smooth. So fucking smooth.

It had been a week since the party and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’d go to sleep thinking of her. She’d come to me in my dreams with those brown eyes waking me up. I couldn’t stop thinking about how the side of her lips curled up and her whole face lit up when she smiled. I started to realize I was putting her on this pedestal, obsessing over Y/N, a girl I had met once in passing at a party.

So I did the only thing that I could do. I called up Axl to have his girlfriend plan a  double date so that I could see her again. With the double date she would have her friend there for support but she would also be there with me.  This would give me the opportunity to charm her and show her I was capable of conversations that were bigger than just introducing myself or getting a beer.

The girls were at the bar and my heart got caught in my throat when I saw her. She was wearing a silky green dress, clinging to the curves of her body. Cherry painted lips, full and just needing to be kissed, were in a smile as she sipped a wine glass. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the night.

Her eyes landed on mine across the room, the soft smile she was wearing blooming larger as she shook her head, leaning forward to her friend before the pair of them were both headed over to us.

“I had a feeling it would be you here tonight.” she had that glint in her eyes again, “What was your name again? I don’t think that I caught it the first time.” the way she teased me so easily put me at ease. I didn't feel the stress like I had the night of the party. She was bringing me out of the shyness, fixing the way my mouth was tongue tied.

Y/N sat next to me at dinner, tight in the booth as we talked about all the usual things people talked about but instead of hitting the highlight rail and painting a rainbow over her life she was raw. When we talked about family she told me about her grandparents who had raised her and Aunts and Uncles who stepped in where her parents failed. She knew about the band because she was actually best friends with Axl’s girlfriend so when she looked at me there was a skeptical look in her eyes as if she knew the secrets and shames of my life. But there wasn't any judgement.

Y/N asked me questions, not about the band and what it felt like to be on stage or if I’d write a song about her but different questions like what it felt like when I held a guitar for the first time and how many songs did he write that never made it past notebooks. We talked and talked, snug in the booth together seeming to forget it was a double date and we just fell into a conversation together.

Finally a waiter came over to us letting us know that the place was closing and that the two of you had to leave. Time had completely gotten away from me as I had stayed wrapped up in her. Looking across the table I saw Axl and his date gone.The check was on the table but before I could reach for it she had thrown money down, smiling up at the waiter and letting him know it was all set.

“I’m supposed to pay for that.” I said as she scooted  gently pushing me out of the booth. Her shoulders shrugged as she walked out of the restaurant, not waiting for me or seeming to care if I was behind her.

The sound of her heels on concrete, gave away which direction she was headed. Her bare shoulders were held high even in the cool night and I was rushing to be by her side, shrugging out of the denim jacket and wrapping it around her. The kind brown eyes looked up at me, skeptical for a second.

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Izzy.” her voice was clear and came out easily, “And I don’t date musicians.” She was matter of fact, shutting off the fact that we had just had a good night together and had gotten to know each other more.

I had watched the way she talked, confirming some of her nervous ticks. Like how she would look down and reset, sweeping her eyes around the room when she wasn’t comfortable. That had stopped about twenty minutes into dinner when we started to get along. There was no beer can tab to bend this way and that so instead her finger swirled around the top ledge of her wind glass in between small sips of wine.

“I never said anything about sleeping with you or dating you.” I said as we got to the corner. Her brown eyes were narrowed, regarding me with a strange curiosity like she was trying to make out what I wanted from her. “I want to kiss you though.” My hand slid through her black hair, as soft as silk, just like I had known it would be. She gasped, her mouth opening in a slight gasp not expecting me to be so close to her. Our eyes met and I watched her search me, as if there would be answers behind my eyes that I hadn’t spoken to her.

“If you kiss me I’ll never speak to you again. I don’t need boys kissing me.” her brown eyes were serious. There was an interesting spark there and it wasn’t like she was telling me that I couldn't kiss her. Y/N hadn’t moved an inch from my arms, she stayed looking up at me with my hands on her lower back. Having her in my arms felt good, not like the carnal or feral pleasure that I had with random girls. It was like we could communicate without words

“I’m not a boy, I’m a man.” The way she smirked at that statement was encouraging but there was still the fear in her eyes that I wanted to see gone. How could I get those brown eyes to only shimmer in happiness. “Let me walk you home.” I pulled back, watching the way her eyes sparkled for a second. It was the first time I felt like I had made the right choice.

Two days later I was sitting on the couch backstage, my fingers picking idolly on the guitar when two giggling girls burst into backstage. And there she was, eyes shiny with joy as she laughed with her friend. The pair of them seemed almost surprised that they were in the room with the band. Y/N looked up, eyes landing on me as if she knew exactly where I would be.

I don’t know why her eyes knocked the wind out of me everytime that they looked at me but I was made stupid in her presence. She didn’t come over to talk to me, staying with her friend. Her black hair was tied back in a red ribbon bow. If she could have reached the ribbon I’m sure she would have pulled it out; she was playing with the end of her ponytail. I didn’t know why she was nervous but I gave her space watching how every few minutes she would look down her eyes looking around until they landed on me. When we would make eye contact she seemed frustrated by it and would pull her eyes away.

I had her phone number which I had called several times since the double date without her picking up once. There had to be a reason she was ignoring me. I had thought of around 100 in the time that I had been obsessing with her. The biggest one, the one that made the most sense is she wasn’t into me because there was someone else. The logical part of my brain accepted this but the other part wanted to fight for her, prove that I was worth it.

Before we went on stage, I looked over at her again.She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept since I dropped her off. Small dark circles that she hadn’t bothered to cover in makeup stood out as she sipped her beer. She wasn’t trying to make everyone laugh or touching forearms as she leaned in to speak to them. One hand was firmly planted in the denim shorts she was wearing and the other on a can of beer that I was sure was warm from how long she nursed it. It felt like something was wrong and I didn't have time to figure out what it was.

During the show I looked over, almost doing a double take when I saw her standing there, watching us perform. Her friends were all moving to the music but she was perfectly still just watching me. Not the band but me. She caught me staring and sent me a small wave in return, I missed the next note getting a scathing look from Axl as repayment.

How could she be so inside my head? I had no idea how to deal with it. All I could think about for the rest of the shoe was getting off stage and talking to her. Or kissing her. I could imagine her pressed against her, her arms wrapping around my neck as I lifted off her feet into a kiss. The feeling of her plus lips on mine, her tongue that I was sure tasted like something sweet, dancing against mine. I blinked myself out of the image, stealing a look over at her as if she could read my embarrassing thoughts. Just like  a high school idiot I was fantasizing about a girl. I needed to get a better grip on things.

It took me almost twenty minutes to find her after the show. Between all the hustle and bustle of people moving around it was like a whirlwind and then suddenly there she was walking towards me, what looked like my denim jacket folded over her arm.

“Hey, I just brought this back for you. I have to head home now.” She tried to hand me the jacket but I was too caught up in the idea of her leaving so soon to grab it.  Y/N must have seen the confusion on my face, “I have a meeting I need to prepare for tomorrow. I probably shouldn’t have even come out to this.” She motioned around to the show and once more held out the jacket for me to take,

“Why don’t I take you home?” The weary look on her face was there again; she didn’t trust me. It was fair. We hadn’t known each other for that long and if she knew the same people as I did it wasn’t really a slight on me to not trust me. It was common sense, “I just want to have a couple more minutes with you. I won’t force myself into your apartment or anything like that.” I could feel my heart breathing as I tried to play off this cool, collected guy. When she nodded in agreement I had to bite my lip to stop the idiotic smile from plastering across my face.

We talked in the car, small talk about little things and I asked her about her meeting. I got to glimpse her face express joy, stress, hope, and a million other emotions at the mention of it and realized this wasn’t just her work meeting but her passion meeting. Y/N wanted to design clothes and had gotten a meeting to work with a company to see her line. If she was taken on she could have a clothing line out as soon as the Spring.

I had been around musicians for so long that it seemed second nature to brag or talk about our work. There would be a million times where someone would just pick up an instrument and other people would join in on a jam session and suddenly a song was written. Or the amount of times composition notebooks were passed around to judge song lyrics someone else had written. No one was really shy about their music because everyone had this sense that they were the best at what they did.

Y/N seemed to have a track record of people not fully believing in her. She told me about her grandparents having sent her to college to get a husband more than they had sent her to get a degree and when she had graduated with her business degree and a good job they had been proud of her but there had been this sense of failure with it. If she told them it would just feel like it was about her step away from their traditional expectations of how she should live her life. Her friends were all so wrapped up in what they were doing, most of them hanging around the scene and trying to land a rich boyfriend to take care of them that she felt like if she shared her work with them they wouldn’t understand what she was trying to do. So she kept her designs to herself, sketching out ideas and tracing out pattern designs when she was alone. She would take vacation days from work just to sew or spend whole weekends pretending she had the stomach flu to give her an escape from everyone else and just focus on something that she wanted to do.

Seeing her talk about it and feeling the sincerity of her passion coming out in her words moved me and I had to see it. I wanted to see what made her so excited and what her dreams were. It felt important to me because it made her happy.

“Do you think I could see what you’re working on?” I asked when we pulled up outside of her place. She looked at me, shocked and stared for a second before giving a slight nod as she got out of the car leading me inside the place that she lived.

It was exactly how I would imagine it to be, pictures on the wall of family and friends, fresh flowers on the counter, a coffee cup with a lipstick smear on her coffee table, and just a mess of fabric everywhere.

“Sorry for the chaos. I’ve been in a panic mood.” she confessed, clearing off the couch and starting to tidy up as I walked around, looking at some of the sketches on the wall and letting my fingers run over the clothing she had on some forms. I could feel her eyes following me, watching me as I moved around.

“You did all of this by yourself?” She nodded, those brown eyes scared as she shared with me the intimacy of her craft. The raw unfinished hems of art in progress. “You’re amazing.” her eyes widened at this and for a second I thought she was going to cry. I took a step closer to her, “You should be really proud of yourself for getting all of this done. And your work is amazing. Will you tell me more about your meeting?”

And she did. We sat on the couch, time once more seeming to melt away around us. Both of us talked about our goals and dreams. The life we wanted and just some of the things that we had dreamed about. It was easy to talk about the life that we both wanted because our puzzle pieces we wanted in our life seemed to fit together.

The sun tickled me awake, teasing me out of sleep as I woke up on a couch. I looked at my side where Y/N was tucked in, fast asleep. There was a smirk as she dreamed about something amusing, drawn over her face. Some of her dark hair had escaped the pony tail and spilled over the gentle features of her face. Absent-mindedly, I tucked them back watching amused as her nose scrunched up from my fingers.

I couldn’t remember waking up next to someone that I hadn’t had sex with. I wasn’t sure what I was even supposed to do. Could I make myself a cup of coffee? Could I sneak out and make it to the band meeting I needed to be at in thirty seven minutes? Shit.

Trying to be gentle I slowly got up from the couch, rearranging Y/N so she would stay asleep. I grabbed my jacket, laying it over her as she resettled into the spot. I wanted to stay so badly but knew that I couldn’t miss the meeting.

Finding a pen I scribbled a note, hoping that she could read my chicken scratch writing and that she saw the message before her meeting. With one last glance I looked at her before leaving the apartment.

Y/N POV

Oh man, another night on the couch. My back was protesting against my decision before I even opened my eyes. It smells like cigarettes, sweat, and cologne. It smells like Izzy. My eyes snapped open as I remembered talking to him last night. Now I’m waking wrapped in the denim jacket I tried to give him back and he’s gone. When did he leave?

Looking at the time I started rushing around, packing things up in the garment bags, getting dressed and grabbing my bag. I stopped seeing a piece of paper with different handwriting on the counter, Izzy’s name signed at the bottom.

‘Sorry for sneaking out on you well you slept, you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you. Your work is amazing and they’ll be so lucky to add your designs to the team. Good luck, Y/N. I’ll be throwing a party tonight. Here’s my address. Please come. -Izzy’

The kind words had my cheeks blazing. He believed in mr. He thought I had talent and could see the creativity and love sewn into each garment. He respected my craft and my passions. He had listened to my lamenting the night before about everything and he wanted my dreams to be realities.

The realization that I liked the guitarist started to seep in. The preconceived notions of who the band was and how they slept around was starting to slip; for the past couple weeks Izzy only had eyes for me. And when we talked it was so easy to tell him everything. At the parties and backstage Izzy had stayed away from the girls who wanted to sleep with him. He had even left to take me home. He hadn’t tried anything.

I had made this assumption about him because his band was just like everyone else. After the meeting I’d get ready and talk to him, apologize, kiss him.

Walking into the party I tried not to fidget with the leather dress. My eyes wandered around the house, I knew most of the people here but I couldn’t find Izzy.

It was twenty minutes later when I finally spotted him on the balcony. He looked uncomfortable, three girls crowded around him as he nodded his head absently. Every couple minutes he’d look up, eyes scanning the crowd before looking down at his drink, tipping it back to down the amber liquid. But the girls were going in rotation to the bar to keep them coming.

A weird cramping filled my stomach and my hands tightened in fists. The jealousy overtook me as I tried to figure out a plan.

“You’re staring at Izzy like he usually stares at you.” Looking over my shoulder I saw Axl staring past you to where his bandmate was trapped being held hostage by the hyenas. “Are you going to save him or are you going to let them take him upstairs? Better figure it out kid.” The lead singer moved away leaving me alone. I stewed in my anger, showtime.

One foot in front of another, hips swinging dangerously side to side I watched the eyes follow me. Izzy finally saw me when I got to the balcony, stepping forward to break out from his captors. My hand went to the back of his head, pulling him down a few inches to my lips and planting my lips on his. Hands slid down the smooth sides of the dress around me to my ass and back up to my lower back. Pulling away, my heart beating a million miles a minute, I looked into his shocked eyes. At least it wasn’t just me that felt the fireworks.

“I’ve had a very good day and I’m not going to let anyone ruin that.” I explained to him, flashing him a smile. Izzy cupped my cheeks, his lips hitting mine again as his body pressed me into the balcony. I could feel every part of him, hard and solid against me.

“I’ve been waiting to kiss you for weeks.” His head rested against mine and for a second I forgot that we were at a party surrounded by friends. Izzy seemed to completely forget, his eyes on me, one hand firm against my hip well the other ran through my hair.

“Did it live up to expectations?” I teased, watching the way he was looking at me. His gaze was intense and I felt like I was going to shiver despite the warmth of the night.

“It just left me hungry to kiss every inch of your body.” His words came out husky, vibrating through me and making the dress that barely covered my skin seem too hot to wear anymore.

A flip had been switched on and I couldn’t turn it off. After fighting it for weeks the feeling of Izzy’s hands in my body was exactly what I wanted.

“Are you going to fuck me like one of your groupies?” I asked, “Are we going to go upstairs and in an hour I’ll leave and never hear from you again?” His eyebrows furrowed together, confused.

“Do you think that I’m only going to take an hour with you, honey? That’s cute.” He was taking my hand, weaving us through the crowd and to his bedroom. My cheeks were burning red as he pulled us inside, locking the door behind us. “If you don’t want this, now would be the time to tell me because if you don’t say something in the next ten seconds I’m going to toss you on that bed behind you and do things with your body that I’m sure you’ve never had done before.” His eyes were staring so deeply into me, I gulped trying to picture what he had in mind but not being able to have a coherent thought.

“Why are we still in clothes?”

That was exactly the answer he was looking for. He took one step towards me, looking over my dress before spinning me around, his lips on the back of my neck kissing and biting around to my ear as his fingers pulled the zipper down, his middle finger tracing my spine as it went.

His mouth moved down, kissing until the dress was off, biting my ass cheek as I stepped from the dress. Izzy was on his knees behind me and I felt disoriented that I couldn’t see him.

“Bend over for me. Put your elbows out so you’re comfortable, Y/N. Good job, honey.” Licking my lips I followed his instructions and my body position ass up off the bed.

Hands on my hips rolled my underwear down, pulling it off as well as sliding off my heels. I felt on display, like I was his toy to play with. The idea of it having me bite my lip.

“Look at your pretty pussy.” His finger traced the outside lips, a whimper rolling out of my mouth, “I’m going to take care of you, honey. Don’t worry about that. Let me just enjoy the sight of you and learn your body, okay?” I nodded wishing I could turn and look at him. He rubbed his hands over my ass, pushing my stomach down and arching me higher. His hands went down again, pushing my legs open.

The way that Izzy made a hissing sound followed by a low grunt had me wondering what he was doing.

“Izzy, I can’t see what you’re doing.” I whined out trying to turn. A soft smack on my ass had me freezing in place.

“Do you want me to describe everything to you?” His voice seemed deeper, husky and needy now. “I’m going to get undressed .” The sound of a fly going down, a belt buckle unclipping and the sound of clothes being tossed aside confirmed this. “Now, I’m going to get on my knees behind you and play with your pussy. It’s so juicy and wet I’m going to pump out some of the juices like this.”

Two fingers stretched me open, surging me forward. Izzy moved his fingers quickly for a second, curling them inside to rub against the swell inside of my body. He pulled them out after a second and I heard a slurping sound and a groan of appreciation. I could picture him tasting me off himself and moaning softly into the bed sheets.

“I’m going to get more of your wet pussy juice and use it to stroke my hard cock. Is that okay, honey?” I squeaked out a yes, feeling his two fingers teasing at my hole. My body pushed back, wanting to feel full of him again, “What was that?” He kissed my thigh, wet grin the juices he had just been working from inside of me.

“Please, Izzy. I want you to pump your cock with my wet pussy.” My heart was beating so loudly. I was so horny and just wanted him to work the orgasm from my body. I felt comfortable and trusted him with myself, feeling like he wouldn’t abuse the power in a way I didn’t like.

His fingers were once more inside of me, working at me again. My hands gripped the sheets, trying not to push back against him but I could feel the rocking in my hips.

“Do you need to cum? Am I not finger fucking you hard enough? Let me use my mouth. I’ll fuck you with my tongue and suck on that little swollen clit.” His fingers left my body and I whimpered. I could hear this wet grunting and knew he was fisting his cock as he played with me. “You have me so hard.”

“So fuck me.” I said panting. It felt like he kept getting me so close and stopping. I could feel the quivering in my legs and knew I was more than ready to cum.

“Patience. You made me be patient for you now you be a good girl and let me taste you. I want to lap up your sticky pussy juices before I bury my cock into you.” At the idea of his cock in me I could feel the tightening in my belly.

“Holy-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence. His warm tongue swiped over me, twirling around my home, dancing into my pussy and licking my walls before sliding out down to my slit where his perfect lips wrapped around it like a kiss before his tongue spun around it sucking and pulling it in his mouth.

I was rocking again, over-stimulated and wanting to orgasm more and more. My mind was blank, a coherent thought no longer feasible.

“You can cum for me. I’ll keep sucking and licking you and right at your peak I’m going to push my cock all the way in. You’re going to keep pushing back just like you’re doing now in it, Cumming against my cock and letting me drain myself inside you.” He whispered as he laid these over stimulating kisses over my glistening cunt. His tongue swiped down into me again, then a flat stroke over me and up to my clit. I felt his tongue slide around it sucking the small ball until I was shaking from the orgasm.

Izzy was quick to slide inside me, filling me with his cock, stretching it as he fucked me, dragging out my orgasm as my wetness slid down my thighs over his balls and on his own legs.

“That’s a good girl, cumming so hard against my cock.” His hands were on my hips as I pushed back wanting him to keep fucking me. My hands on the small of my waist helped to pull me back and keep me dripping over every inch of him.

The low groan he gave out let me know he was close and I squeezed, pushing myself back up on my elbows tk throw it back. His hand slid down to my ass smacking it knee again before hands were digging on my hip, his balls slapping my enforced clit as he shuddered inside me.

Izzy stayed like that for a second, both of us panting and gasping for air. He pulled out with a satisfied groan falling beside me on the bed and dragging me close to him in the bed.

His lips were on my head, soft kisses and hair strokes soothing me. Izzy dragged a bed sheet over us, his arms returning to wrap around me. I felt exhausted, safe, comfortable and something deeper for him. A new connection beyond just the carnal pleasure we just had.

“Do you want to stay here for the night? We can do brunch in the morning and you can tell me all about your meeting?” He had remembered the most important step in my career and was making time for me to tell him more about it.

I pulled him into another kiss, his lips tasted like me and I knew we weren’t going to leave this bed until that brucnh he was talking about.

[alfredosauce50]

Avatar 03

Word count: 4, 122

Disclaimer: This is a crossover with the film “Avatar” (2009) A/N: Spoken Na’vi that is translated into English in dialogue will be indicated with italics. Allen’s name will be unchanged for clarity, but his name and yours are meant to be of a Na’vi derivative. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Avatar - 03 Assimilation

Alfred followed you to a river near hometree.

The thick vegetation that grew nearby was intensely green; the lush garden was a favorite spot for the direhorses to graze in. You lead one by its antenna. Inside was the neural queue, something he heard you talk about before. But it was only today he’d find out what they were.

“Easy, boy.” He began, giving the majestic creature a gander. It smacked him on the back of his head with its antenna.

“Pale is female.” You walked up to it.

“Oh.” Alfred looked back at the horse. “Easy, girl.”

While she cantered back and forth, you rubbed her snout to soothe her. Once she stopped moving, he climbed onto her back with a grunt.

“Sìltsan, Pale, sìltsan…” You patted her neck.

You handed Alfred the antenna. Wriggling out of its end were the same things he found in his hair–pink, feathery tendrils–the neural queue. But he liked to call them ‘brain worms.’ Just as you instructed him before, he reached over his shoulder for his plait. Alfred connected the tendrils flailing out of the end with the horse’s.

Pale’s pupils dilated, and she reared back with a whinny.

“Woah.” Alfred’s eyes went round as he took in the otherworldly sensation.

“That is tsaheylu. The bond.” You gazed up at him attentively. With one hand on Pale’s leash and another on her shoulder, you continued in a gentle voice. “Feel her.”

Alfred closed his eyes and let out a breathy laugh. Everything Pale could feel, he could too–the ground she stood on, his weight on her back, then the sweet air that poured into her lungs. But what stood out to him most was the pounding of her heart, which echoed in his chest as if it were his own.

“Feel her heartbeat. Her breath.”

Pale trotted a little.

“Feel her strong legs.” You tapped your temple. “You may tell her what to do. Inside.”

He stared at you quietly as you spoke.

“For now, say where to go.”

Alfred nodded and pointed ahead of him.

“Forward!”

Pale launched into a powerful gallop. Alfred rocked around on her back, having never ridden a horse before. Naturally, it only took a few seconds for him to fall off.

He landed in a puddle, face-first with a splat.

“Augh—”

You laughed as he rose from the ground. When he heard the unrestrained sounds of joy, being covered head to toe didn’t feel as bad as it should’ve. Either way, he had to get up himself when you scurried off to retrieve Pale.

Just when you left, Allen and his hunting group came charging in on their direhorses.

Alfred hadn’t even managed to get on his feet when the other saw him—he was crouched over the mud and staring up at Allen, who was as proud as he remembered.

“You should go away.” He glared.

“Nah, you’d miss me.” Alfred grinned back, raising his hand in a point. “I knew you could speak English.”

Allen scoffed and glanced at you upon your return.

“That alien will learn nothing! Even a rock sees more.” He exclaimed, much to your amusement. Perhaps he was right; while Alfred stayed oblivious to the conversion that discussed him, he was wiping the mud from his face and tongue. “Just look at him!”

You smiled hard at those accusations, which held more truth than you cared to admit.

“Kä.” You patted the back of Allen’s horse to send him away. He gave you one last disgruntled look before riding off.

Once he was gone, you turned to Alfred with a sterner look.

“Again.”

Kiku just returned from a coffee run. He briskly joined his colleagues in the bio lab, cup in hand, but before he could join their idle chatter, he spotted Alfred rolling down the hall outside. His eyes trailed after his rapid pumping.

He looked like he was in a hurry.

“If you wanna hit this thing, it’s gonna be complicated.” He explained. Alfred was back in the air traffic control tower, presenting his findings to Quaritch and a few other high-ranking officers. Using the 3D scan of Hometree in front of him as an aid, he broke down its inner workings unseen by their technology. “Your scan doesn’t show the internal structure. There’s an outer row of columns.”

“Uh-huh.” Quaritch nodded.

“Real heavy-duty.” Alfred rose his brows for emphasis.

Kiku ended up following. When he moved up the stairs in discrete steps, he ducked back down when he caught Alfred in the middle of a conference.

“There’s a secondary ring here and an inner ring. There’s a core structure like a spiral.” The marine spun his hand up the hologram. “That’s how they move up and down.”

“We’re gonna need accurate scans on every column.” Quaritch pondered, never taking his eyes off the hologram. “What else can you tell us about the structure?”

Alfred couldn’t say he was surprised when he heard his team was relocating. New Avatar drivers needed the link room at base, which hosted all the gym and medical facilities they needed to warm up to their new bodies. What he didn’t expect was the brewing conflict between the two departments—the science and military.

“So, where we going?” He piped up eagerly as he pumped into the bio lab. Arthur was bent over, sorting things into a box. Grace and Kiku supervised everyone else that helped them pack up shop.

“Gettin’ out of Dodge.” Grace walked over to him with an assertive nod. “I’m not about to let Selfridge and Quaritch micro-manage this thing.”

Alfred’s lips separated agape. Word sure caught on fast.

“There’s a mobile link up at Site 26 we can work out of,  way  up in the mountains.”

Arthur stood up, his expression tense.

“The Hallelujah mountains?”

Grace turned around and smiled.

“That’s right.”

“Are you serious?” He lit up.

“Yeah.”

“Yes!” Arthur pumped his fist and laughed eagerly.

Alfred could only watch him with a puzzled frown. Hallelujah mountains?

Arthur’s breathy chuckles immediately faded, and he feigned a look of surprise at him.

“The Hallelujah mountains.” He blinked. “The legendary floating mountains of Pandora? Heard of them?”

Trudy had the honor to fly them there. High up in the mountains where clouds gathered like a mist, the scenery already had Alfred thoroughly impressed. When Grace turned to him with her headphones on, he could only spare her a glance before gazing out of the aircraft’s open doors.

“We’re getting close.” She said.

The Samson’s blades thumped over them as they spoke.

“Huh. We’re not there yet?” Alfred murmured.

“Not quite.” Arthur was riding shotgun next to the pilot. “But we’re nearly there. I can feel it.”

Trudy gave a knowing laugh.

“Yeah. Look at my instruments.”

Everything on her dash was fizzing out.

“Yup. We’re in the flux vortex.” Grace looked ahead with anticipation.

“We’re in VFR from here on.” Trudy murmured.

“What’s VFR?” Arthur turned to her.

“It means you gotta see where you’re going.”

“But you can’t see anything!”

“Exactly.” Trudy laughed, chewing on a wad of gum as she spoke. The windshield was engulfed by opaque clouds, which made for a dangerous game. But the risk came with a reward. “Ain’t that a bitch?”

The Samson flew through a few seconds of zero visibility. Trudy kept chewing. Everyone leaned around to see something, anything. But their restlessness was eventually satiated as they came out of the mist.

Gargantuan shadows of rock formations floated ominously before them. Alfred leaned forward and grabbed a handle.

What he was about to see would change the trajectory of his life forever.

The clouds cleared up to reveal floating islands around them in all directions. Tens of them.

The giant mountains were covered with forest, and ancient vines hung off the bottom. Waterfalls poured out of the sides before flurrying away into a mist. They just flew into the garden of Eden, and Arthur couldn’t have worded it better.

“Oh. My. God.”

But Alfred thought he was a close runner-up.

“Holy shit.”

Sunlight even streamed down in golden rays thanks to the constant spray of water.

The nature here was so powerful, he was shocked silent.

Alfred couldn’t say he was religious.

But the ethereal beauty of Pandora had him wondering if there was a divine presence among them after all—if the scientists couldn’t stop raving about it, this Eywa of theirs, there was no reason he shouldn’t believe it too.

Arthur and Alfred were left gawking.

Grace and Trudy, who frequented these mountains, spared wide smiles instead.

“You should see your faces.” Trudy grinned.

She flew the Samson for a few more minutes before landing it on a flat patch of grass. But they were by no means on the ground, per se. They were still half a mile above it.

Trudy turned off all the switches. The blades stopped thumping and the power inside whirred to a silence.

“Thank you for flying air Pandora.”

They lugged all their things into the mobile link nearby. Grace lead the way. The first thing she did was turn on the power, hearing the generators whir to life as the lights blinked on, one after the other.

Alfred rolled inside and peered around.

“Welcome to camp,” Grace announced, taking the cigarette out of her mouth. She ambled over to a bed and slung her things over it. “So, this is my bunk.”

The inside looked quite similar to base.

“Arthur, this is yours. Trudy, you take the top.”

Just about everything was made of metal; the same dull colors of gray and silver they used for the labs. The whole room was a long, rectangular box fitted with a tiny kitchen at one end, link units in the center, and bunk beds at the other.

Trudy immediately went for the fridge.

After giving the contents a scan, she scowled.

“This stuff is nasty.” She murmured.

She grabbed something anyway. MREs were staples whether they tasted good or not.

While Trudy kept the fridge door open, Alfred was presented with the photos stuck on the front of it. They were photos of Grace at her school. She looked so happy teaching her class of Na’vi students, beaming away while she pointed at her ears.

Anatomy lesson, probably. He thought.

Otherwise, she was sitting with them on the porch with her arms around their shoulders.

You were in some of them.

He didn’t see any ones with Allen, though.

“Somebody’s camera-shy.” Alfred snorted.

Alfred (V.O)

| Grace didn’t miss a thing. She knew I was talking to the colonel.

|

“Alright. Alfred, hang a left.”

Grace marched down the hall. He followed behind and made a left turn as directed. She stopped to power up the units while Alfred parked next to his.

“Unit one. Beulah. She’s the least glitchy.”

Alfred (V.O)

| But I had what she needed. A way back into the clan. So, she’s playing nice.

|

He leaped from branch to branch to make his way up the spiraling staircase.

As always, you were swift and quiet with your movements. He still grunted whenever he jumped. Once he made it to the very top, he exited the trunk to walk into the open canopy.

“Woah.”

Aside from the terrifyingly high height, there was an abundance of shade from the foliage to make this place a nice hideout. Alfred peered over the edge and let out a nervous exhale. He understood you were used to this, but your lack of fear was impressive.

You looked up and imitated a bird call.

The leaves above rustled. He heard the gentle caws of banshees. Alfred knew exactly what to expect, but nothing could’ve prepared him for one swooping down with their mouths wide open. Alfred ducked and backed away out of instinct.

He could see every single one of its razor-sharp teeth as it squawked.

“Holy—”

The alien pterodactyl thumped its wings furiously to land. Its mint green skin was vibrant and speckled with black spots. The dark markings were thinly lined with gold, making for a spectacular sight to behold. Just like many of the creatures he encountered on Pandora, your ikran prided itself with lethal beauty.

When it found its footing, it stretched its wings out as a warm, albeit flamboyant greeting.

“Do not look in her eye.” You cautioned him.

He gave his head a gentle shake and looked down.

“Tseze.” You cooed, handing her a strip of meat. She took it eagerly and quickly devoured it. While you spoke to her in a tender voice, you rubbed her snout.

“Tam, tam Tseze.”

Alfred watched your interactions with wonder.

“Ikran is not horse. Once tsaheylu is made—” You joined your queue with Tseze’s. She purred and shook her torso contentedly. You closed your eyes and let the connection wash over you.

“—Ikran will only fly with one hunter in the whole life.”

Swinging yourself onto her back, you found your footing on the pedal. She thundered her wings and shrieked in anticipation.

“To become taronyu, hunter, you must choose your own ikran and he must choose you.”

“When?” Alfred immediately asked.

“When you are ready.” You smiled.

Reaching up to the protective headpiece on your forehead, you lowered it to cover your nose. Then, you dove off the edge of the branch. Alfred widened his eyes and ran to where you kicked off.

His nerves were killing him, and it wasn’t even him that jumped.

But he was quickly soothed with excitement as he watched you glide around him.

You were flying—no, you were riding a banshee, which was even more badass.

The wind whistled through your ears as you circled the branch he stood on. But he never kept still. He followed you eagerly as you soared under him.

He waved.

You could only grin back as you changed direction and flew towards him.

Alfred let out a shaky gasp and ducked down.

You shot right over him and laughed.

When he watched you fly away, he found himself completely and utterly entranced—by the adventure ahead of him, and the person he’d have it with. Alfred only knew you for a week, but he liked you more than he planned.

Admiration was harmless.

Attachment was the mistake that Grace made, and he wasn’t falling for it.

His camera booted on.

“Okay, this is video log twelve. Time’s twenty-one thirty-two.” Alfred rubbed through his hair sluggishly. He sighed and turned around to Grace, who was staring down the eyepiece of a microscope and dissecting something. “Do I have to do this now? I really need to get some rack.”

“No, now. When it’s fresh.”

He grumbled and looked around.

“Okay. Location... Shack. And the days are starting to blur together.”

Alfred (V.O)

|

The language is a pain.

But I figured it’s like field-stripping a weapon. Just repetition, repetition.

|

“Ontu.” You pointed to your nose.

“Ontu.” He repeated tentatively.

You covered your ears.

“... Mikyun.”

“Mikyuuun.” You corrected.

“Mikyuuun.” Alfred gave a slow nod.

You closed your eyes and placed your fingers on them.

“Navi.” He piped.

“Nari.”

“Naree.”

“Narrrri.” You leaned in, visibly frustrated and tail lashing. He too was getting impatient.

“Nareee!”

You sighed and smacked him on the forehead. His tail swished in response. “Txur nì’ul. Stronger.” You sucked in a deep breath and patted your stomach. Alfred gazed at you before pulling back the arrow again, this time inhaling as you demonstrated. When he froze in his stance, you pushed his abdomen in and moved his arm around. You scanned his overall form before slapping his elbow.

Something about Alfred made it easy to be angry at him. He was clueless, inept, and ungraceful among many other things.

But the most irritating thing of all had to be how he came here in the first place. He was dumped at your feet for you to mind. What should've been tolerable, living with him, exploring with him, and teaching him everything you knew, became frustrating as you were forced to.

Alfred (V.O)

|

(F/N) calls me skxawng. It means moron.

|

After a long day of training with you, he couldn’t catch a break at camp, either. Arthur found it in himself to start teaching him some Na’Vi too. And he wasn’t above calling him names whenever his student disappointed him one too many times.

“I see you.” Alfred motioned with his hand.

He was sitting with his colleague at the dining table, who replicated the gestures with his brows raised.

“This is a very important part of it.” Arthur clarified. “Remember this hand movement.”

“It’s just I see you. Like, I see you.” Alfred held out his hands, puzzled. “What more can there be to seeing someone?”

“No, no, no. It’s not just seeing them like they’re in front of you, it’s ‘I see into you. I see you.’” Arthur corrected, much to the other’s defeat. Alfred laughed and rubbed his eyes with a grin. When he said the language was a pain, he really meant it. “‘I’m accepting you. I understand you.’ You’ve got to get this, alright?”

Alfred (V.O)

|

Arthur’s attitude has improved lately.

It’s good that he’s back on board, but—he thinks I’m a skxawng too.

|

With his starter bow thrown over his back, he sprinted over tree branches tangled with moss and vine. You were in front of him, leading the way. Alfred used to struggle with keeping up with you, but the gap was slowly closing.

|

My feet are getting tougher.

I can run farther every day. I have to trust my body to know what to do.

|

You jumped up and grabbed onto a vine. Swinging forward and over a drop, you landed on the branch in front. Alfred did the same, albeit flailing his arms upon landing.

With his growing confidence and skill, he gave horse-riding another shot. Once he kicked off on his direhorse, he braced himself for the inertia. As it galloped forward and around a bend, he actually managed to stay on.

“Oh, yeah, baby! Check it out!” Alfred exclaimed with glee. A few seconds passed before he fell off and rolled across the mud. “Crap.” Rain drizzled softly onto his face. He threw his head back and let it dot every inch of his skin. Alfred used to hate the dampness that came from wet clothes, but now that he wasn’t wearing any, he grew to enjoy nature’s shower—especially when it was a gentle one.

Weather like this also made it easier to find and follow traces of animals.

While you inspected the area around a set of footprints, he stood behind and observed. Who would’ve thought you’d be able to pinpoint a creature’s location after reading invisible clues?

You crawled with him across the forest floor.

He copied your stealth before stopping behind some leaves. Just a few feet ahead were a wolf and her cubs in the middle of playtime.

“Aw.” Alfred cooed. But his fondness changed into disdain when he recognized the species. “Wait. Those were the things that nearly killed me.”

Alfred (V.O)

|

She’s always going on about the flow of energy, the spirits of animals. How all life is sacred. And how it would’ve been better if those cubs ate me because there were more of them and only one of me.

|

“This isn’t just about eye-hand coordination, you know?” Grace added by her microscope. Alfred looked away from his camera to spare her a glance. “You need to listen to what she says. Try to see the forest through her eyes.”

“Excuse me.” He looked at her again, this time, pointing his thumb at the camera. “This is my video log here.”

You jumped off a branch with your arms apart.

Alfred stopped at the edge and gawked.

That had to be at least a thirty-foot drop.

Catching yourself onto the huge leaves below, you slid off one after the other to stop your fall. Once you finally reached the ground, you looked up for him to do the same.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” He laughed nervously. While adrenaline coursed through his veins, he jogged back a few steps, moved his bow back, and charged forward. Then, he made a big leap and let God decide the rest. “Ahh!”

Alfred (V.O)

|

With (F/N), it’s learn fast or die.

|

He crashed through the leaves with no control over his movements. While gravity did its thing, he tangled with some vines and snapped them on the way down. His bow made it first, landing by your feet in a hollow clatter. He came second, falling onto a huge mushroom before rolling off of it.

“Oof—”

Once his body stopped rolling, he gasped and tensed up from the pain. Then, he stood up, but not without staggering to the side.

“Phew. So, was that good or what?”

You shook your head and bit back a smile.

Alfred was improving, but he still had much to learn.

Alfred (V.O)

|

I talked Mo’at into letting Grace into the village. It’s the first time since her school closed down.

|

A group of Na’Vi children raced to her when she arrived. They never hesitated to touch her hair beads while she spoke to them warmly.

“Look how big you all are.” She mused. They giggled and bombarded her with questions. Grace could only nod along and smile.

|

When it was after hours, the shack was dark with a faint glow of blue from the holographic screens inside. Arthur and Trudy snored away on their bunks. Alfred just finished a video log, and would’ve made it to his own if it weren’t for Grace grabbing onto his wheelchair.

“Oh, no you don’t.” She grinned, moving him back to the dining table. He laughed breathily and looked down at the instant burrito she slapped in front of him. “Bon appétit.”

Alfred was spending so much time in his Avatar body, he was beginning to neglect his human one.

His arms were noticeably thinner, and his stubble was turning into a full-blown beard. But he escaped these consequences by linking up with his Avatar.

In his artificial body, he had the strength to do anything. His zest for life would return with vengeance—he became excitable, self-assured, and eager to try new things. You were with him every step of the way, supporting him and helping him grow.

And if you weren’t teaching him something, you were playing with him—watching geckos with big, curious eyes, or swimming in bioluminescent pools of water. His awe seemed to infect you, turning common experiences into first-timers.

Being with Alfred became less of a chore.

Instead, it transpired into something warm.

|

Alfred drew back his arrow and looked ahead.

You neared his chest and fixed his arm gently.

In your bout of concentration, you never gave much thought about how close you were standing.

But Alfred did.

He broke his focus and gazed at you.

His smile was so subtle, you nearly missed it. When you did catch it, you pulled away and clicked your tongue for him to focus.

Alfred (V.O)

|

I’m trying to understand this deep connection the people have with the forest.

She talks about a network of energy that flows through all living things.

She says all energy is only borrowed, and one day, you have to give it back. |

You never let him kill anything until he was ready. Once he reached that stage, he became a master at the bow and could hold fluent conversations with you in Na’vi. And today was when he’d showcase some of his learned abilities—you would watch him track and hunt his first animal.

Alfred kept an unwavering gaze on the Pandoran deer in front of him.

You watched with nail-biting anticipation as he drew his arrow back. Then, he let it fly.

When it pierced into its stomach with a “thunk”, your tail lashed in excitement. Ever since he found the creature, you’d been nervous about his success. But now that he managed the bulk of the task, all you could do was hope for an impeccable execution.

Alfred jumped up and unsheathed his dagger. You trailed behind as he crouched beside it.

“I see you, brother, and thank you.” He spoke breathily, readying his blade. Shoving it into its neck, he killed it instantly, silencing its pained whimpers. “Your spirit goes with Eywa. Your body stays behind... To become a part of the people.”

While he leaned forward to pull out the arrow, you watched him with approval.

“A clean kill.” You uttered.

He turned to you and slowed his movements.

“You are ready.”

Next chapter: Who am I?