#adult shes staying with cautiously steps in and she calms down to tell me “its not the verse... i think i miss my mom”

[redpiperfox]

But mainly, and really:

[writtenvisionary]

please don’t hurt me.

wrote for the prompt “start a story with ‘please don’t hurt me’” sent in by an anon to @mlwritersguild!

Summary: Tom says something that strikes Adrien the wrong way. Sabine goes into mama bear mode.

tw - mentions of abuse, small panic attack

Read on Ao3

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Sabine Cheng stares, mouth agape, at her daughter’s boyfriend. Her heart clenches at the tremble in his voice; the quiver of his bottom lip; the shakiness of his hands. The words he had just uttered came at an unexpected time and she’s now realizing that there’s something very wrong.

Adrien had been coming to the bakery for weeks now, both to see his girlfriend and to learn the skill of baking. He never explicitly said it, but he left hints that father had been controlling his meals. Already having a daughter with a fast metabolism, she knew that it was important for teenagers to eat well and often; it’s imperative for their health. This is why she encouraged him to join their family dinners almost every night, and Tom had invited him to learn how to bake.

Getting out of his father’s grip was hard, she was aware. He had to lie consistently, both to his bodyguard and his father’s assistant, in order to have dinner with his girlfriend and her parents.

She notices how jumpy and skittish he can be sometimes. This behavior only ever increases around Tom, and she wants to believe it’s because he’s a big, burley man with a drive to protect his only daughter, but she knows it has to do with his father.

(But to be honest, she forgets these things sometimes.)

Like tonight, they had been rolling the dough for a new batch of bread and joking around, when Tom said something that struck a nerve.

He had said, “Don’t disappoint me, son.”

Tom meant it jokingly, as their previous conversation had been about how Adrien might want to pursue a degree in culinary arts when he goes to university, and he fully supports this decision.

Both parents realized too late that Adrien isn’t used to hearing jokes from the adults around him. Words like that are only said in a negative connotation around him, so they really should have known better.

Adrien had gone pale, pausing his kneading of dough, and his eyes lowered to the ground. She watched in growing concern as he gulped and clenched his fists tightly for a short moment.

After sparing a glance to her husband, she took a tentative step over to Adrien. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he violently flinched away from her touch. Her heart dropped.

“Honey, he didn’t mean it like that…”

Her attempts at consoling him fell flat, because he didn’t seem to hear her. His glazing eyes stared past her at a blank spot on the wall. His breath became shallow, and he brought his arms up to wrap around his chest as a form of security.

“Adrien, I—“

Tom stops short as the young boy in front of him squeezes his eyes tight and takes a step backwards.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

It was a feeble request, his voice shaking with every word.

“Adrien, honey, no one is going to hurt you,” she says softly, holding one of her palms up to show that she has no intentions of putting it near him.

He still doesn’t open his eyes, instead his breath quickens even more. Tom bites his lip as he leans towards his wife, then whispers, “He’s having a panic attack. I’ll go get Marinette and some water for him.”

As a silent thanks, Sabine places a hand on his large forearm, and sends him a sad smile. He walks away, leaving her with a panicking Adrien.

She’s not sure what to do; Marinette had never told her that Adrien experienced bad anxiety. Her daughter is keeping a lot of secrets from her (which she is frustrated about, because she should know certain things as her mother; but also, she understands that Marinette is a teenager and she’s happy to respect her boundaries), but Sabine wishes that this was something she had told her. That way she might be able to help.

The sound of footsteps trampling down the stairs makes her whip her head around, seeing Marinette running hurriedly towards Adrien.

She slows, letting out a slow breath as she takes in the situation.

“Kitty, hey, hey, hey…” she says loudly, but not loud enough to where it startles him. “I’m here. You’re panicking. Kitty, can I touch you?”

Subconsciously, Sabine wonders where the nickname ‘kitty’ came from, but that’s not something to worry about right now.

Adrien, his breathing still unchanged, manages to crack open his eyes into slits. They dance around the room wearily, before landing on Marinette. Sabine swears she can see his fists uncurl slightly.

“Hi, kitten. Could I hold your hand?”

It takes a minute for him to acknowledge that she had asked a question, but then he just barely nods. Marinette takes this opportunity to move closer, cautiously, and slips her hand into his’. She meets his eyes.

“Okay. I want you to tell me five things you can see right now. Anything.”

His lip quivers and he lets out a small whimper, before blinking out a slew of tears.

“Uh. You.”

Sabine is astonished at how Marinette is able to stay calm in this situation. Her smile to him is forced, but comforting, and the mother can’t shake the evidence that she’s done this before.

“Amazing,” she hears Marinette say. “What else?”

Adrien sniffs, shifting his eyes to the wall behind the girl in front of him. “Th-that poster.”

“You’re doing great, kitty. Three more.”

Tom joins Sabine, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. She exhales at the contact, watching as Adrien rattles off item after item, feel after feel, sound after sound, smell after smell, and can’t help but wonder how often her daughter has helped bring him down from a panic attack.

Another question she has is, what prompted this? She knows that he’s not used to hearing jokes told in that manner, but that’s not enough to send someone into a spiral. It was his reaction to the specific words said to him.

There's one thing she can figure out right away; Mr. Agreste calls Adrien ‘son’; that may have reminded him of the man. Adrien is a people pleaser; just the mere thought of disappointing someone could cause him to spiral.

Although, even with this information, she still feels like there’s a part of the puzzle missing. She replays the scene in her head over and over again until she can’t take it anymore, and nothing.

Words cannot describe how dumb she feels when Marinette talks to them, once Adrien is asleep in her room.

“His father is, cut and dry, mentally and physically abusive.”

Marinette speaks with such vindictiveness that it takes Sabine aback for a moment.

“Abusive? I know he’s a bit overprotective, honey, but—“

“Mom.”

Marinette’s tone makes Sabine stop in her tracks.

“He gaslights him constantly, telling him that he needs to be perfect and that if not, he’s a disappointment. That’s why your words struck something in him, dad. And Gabriel locks him in his room, doesn’t let him see his friends for weeks, and when Adrien can finally hang out with us, it’s only for an hour. He doesn’t join him for dinner — Adrien has to set a damn appointment to get this luxury — and hugs from him are rare. He’s neglectful and says things that hurt, and….”

Sabine’s eyes are wide in shock hearing everything. She’s sure that’s it, but when her daughter trails off, her fear only grows.

“What, sweetie?”

“…He hit him the other day.”

“What?”

It wasn’t her that spoke, but Tom. She glanced over to see him fuming. His eyebrows are narrowed and jaw is clenched. She can feel anger surging in her chest, as well.

Marinette shifts on her feet, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, and nods.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I met him for pa— for a picnic in the park, and his shirt rode up. A huge bruise was on his abdomen.”

Sabine felt that she was telling a white lie there, but there are more important topics at hand.

“Has Gabriel ever hit him before?” She asks, worried for the boy she considers a son.

Marinette shrugs, “Adrien hasn’t admitted it, but I suspect that he has. Its not the first time I’ve seen him with bruises. They’re in different places all the time, though, so I just passed it off as clumsiness… but…”

“But you’re clumsier than him and come home with less bruises,” Tom breathes, finally pulling his hands away from his face and looking at his daughter, who nods.

“Gabriel doesn’t even talk to him unless he does something to disturb the appearance of his brand and reputation. But when he ‘acts out,’ Adrien gets more than enough attention from him; the wrong kind.”

Tom gulps.

“Right. And who really knows what goes on behind closed doors?”

The room falls into a tense silence.

“I understand that you were just messing around, dad. It’s just… when those words are something he hears almost every day, he’s going to take it seriously. Especially when he was raised to be perfect, and any little mistake will get him punished.

“It’s a reflex. He trusts you, dad, but years of trauma build up.”

Marinette’s explanation helps the older couple understand the situation a bit better. Tom suddenly feels extremely guilty. He holds his head in his hands, grumbling to himself. Sabine rubs his leg, keeping her attention on Marinette.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Marinette?”

“I wanted to, and I was getting there. Adrien just…” she sighs. “He was afraid that things would get worse if someone found out.”

“Well, things will get worse before they get better…”

She looks to the ground. “I know. And he’s already been suffering so much that I…”

Marinette trails off, feeling her eyes well up with tears. Instead of fighting them, she lets them fall.

Sabine frowns, taking everything that’s been said into consideration.

“Do you have any proof of the bruises?”

Tom perks up, “Yes! If we collect evidence against his father, there’s a better chance to get him out of there.”

“I snuck a few pictures here and there. I wish I had a video, though…”

Sabine raises an eyebrow, “The mansion’s security cameras?”

She watches her daughter’s eyes light up, then dim, and then light up again. There’s a flash of determination in them, as well, and she can’t help but wonder what she’s planning.

“You’re right,” is all she says, before her optimistic facade turns sour.

“But I don’t know how I’ll get to them without being caught.”

The room falls silent for a minute as they all think about the best course of action.

Tom coughs, catching his wife and daughter’s attention. He shrugs.

“Is there anyone at that house Adrien can trust?”

“Umm. The only person I can think of is his bodyguard, even though we’ve run from him plenty of times,” Marinette says. “He’s pretty quiet, though, so I don’t know if he agrees with Gabriel’s parenting or not. I’ll ask Adrien, though.”

“I’d say it’s worth a shot. Every encounter with that man has been lovely. I’d like to think he’s still working there just for Adrien,” Tom says.

Sabine nods, letting her mind wander. She can’t help but think of every time Adrien has faked a smile, rubbed his arms, rocked back and forth on his feet… Every time he’s had dark circles under his eyes and the ghost of tear streaks on his cheeks... She’s starting to realize that those were all tells, and she should’ve noticed sooner. She feels guiltier than ever.

“Mom?”

Marinette’s voice pulls her away from her thoughts. She blinks, feeling tears gather in her eyes.

When had I started to tear up?

“Sorry, sorry! Let’s, uh—“ she pauses, not knowing what to say, before choosing her next words. “Let’s have him sleep here for the night and see what we can do tomorrow?”

Tom nods beside her.

“Yeah. It might be too soon to worry about all of this right now. Adrien will want to know that we know, too.”

Marinette sighs, “You’re right. He’s not going to be that happy about it. I mean, it took a while for him to understand that the way his father treats him isn’t right, but he’s still working out that concept with you guys. Getting the police involved will just overwhelm him more.”

“True,” Sabine agrees, “but I will not let him stay at that house any longer if that’s what he’s dealing with. No kid should ever go through that.”

She’s serious. No matter what it takes, she will make sure that no one hurts Adrien ever again. Especially not Gabriel Agreste.

[reinerispretty]

rotations. bonus! azula returns

HI THIS ONE HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR A WHILE PLS ENJOY

(Y/N) was happy in her life. Being married to Zuko was better than she could have ever imagined. His stoic expression as Fire Lord faded away as soon as they were in private. She saw her friends as often as their schedules would allow, and enjoyed sitting at Zuko’s side in the throne room. But sometimes, she felt trapped within the palace walls. When she was young, she traveled the world. Now, the only time she traveled was for diplomatic affairs. She loved her life, but sometimes she longed for a new adventure. These were leftover feelings from her teenage life, it was obvious. She was an adult now, with adult responsibilities.

“Mommy?” A tiny voice called out. 

Responsibilities like the baby girl at the edge of her bed. It was early in the morning, around the time that she would normally wake up. (Y/N) slid out from underneath Zuko’s arms to look at her daughter. The three year old clutched a stuffed platybus bear that Iroh had given her for her last birthday. (Y/N) smiled at her little girl. “Hi, little blossom,” She whispered as she picked up Izumi and placed her in the bed between her and Zuko. She made herself comfortable in the plush sheets as she stared up at her mother. “How did you sleep?” 

“Good,” Izumi played with the bill of her platybus bear. “Daddy?” 

Zuko turned over and wrapped his arm around his child. She giggled as he peppered her face with kisses. “Good morning, Princess,” He said with a smile. His voice was husky from sleep, his eyes barely able to open in the morning light. (Y/N) leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“What’s your plan today?” Zuko asked as Izumi cuddled himself into his arms. (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I was thinking about maybe going on a picnic?” She looked at Zuko hopefully, but his sad expression made her pout. 

“I’ve got back to back meetings today. And tomorrow.” 

“And the day after that and for the rest of time,” (Y/N) said with a playful roll of her eyes. “I’d really like to get out of the palace for the day. Izumi, would you like to go on a picnic with Mommy?” 

“Icknick!” The little girl cheered, a bright smile on her features. 

“Where will you go?” Zuko asked. 

“I think I’ll take her to the hot springs behind the palace. It’s really beautiful this time of year.” 

Zuko exhaled. He grabbed (Y/N’s) hands and began playing with her fingers. “I wish I could go with you. Can I send some guards with you?” (Y/N) scoffed. 

“I’m pretty sure I can protect myself.” 

“Mommy firebend,” Izumi said to her father matter-of-factly. Zuko chuckled. 

“Mommy does it best,” Zuko agreed. (Y/N) smiled and took her daughter into her arms, sliding out of bed. 

“We’ll be back before dinner time,” She assured her husband as she kissed him. She left the room to get Izumi dressed. “Don’t go starting any wars,” She called to her husband from the hallway. 

“Very funny!” 

---

The hot springs were in a wooded area behind the palace, accessed only by a cobblestone path leading from the turtle duck pond. (Y/N) and Izumi walked together, both with a hand on the handle of the picnic basket. Izumi’s platybus bear toy dragged behind her on the ground. 

The hot spring steamed and bubbled in a stone pond. (Y/N) had grown up visiting it occasionally. She, Zuko, and Azula would take turns seeing who could last longest in the boiling water. Firebenders could withstand some of the highest heats, but Azula always won out in the end. 

(Y/N) shook her head to make the thought go away. It was hard, sometimes, to be in the palace. Memories popped back up without warning. And despite everything that had happened, sometimes she found herself missing her. She shoved it down as far as she could, but it still crawled up inside of her at the moments she least expected it. Like today. 

So she focused her attention on Izumi. She unfurled the picnic blanket and set the food the servants had prepared for them. Izumi ate sandwiches in the shapes of stars and moons. It was something the servants liked to do for her. She was the sweetest child the palace had seen in years. 

(Y/N) ate her sandwich and moved onto dessert: fruit tarts. She gave Izumi a tiny piece. “Did you know that these are how Daddy and I met?” 

Izumi took the piece between two fingers curiously. “Fuit dart,” She whispered to herself. (Y/N) smiled. 

“Yeah, fuit dart.” She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead. 

Once they had finished eating, (Y/N) let Izumi run around while she basked in the sunlight. Like most firebenders, it revitalized her. It made her feel new again. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up to feel its warmth. 

“Swim!” Her eyes opened again to see Izumi standing at the edge of the hot spring. (Y/N) shook her head. 

“No, Izumi, we aren’t swimming today.” 

“Swim!” Izumi said again, stamping her foot on the ground. 

“I said no, Izumi.” The little girl began to cry. (Y/N) stood immediately and took her daughter into her arms, shushing her to calm her. She bounced around on her feet to soothe her. 

“Poor girl. She’s a princess, she should do what she wants.” 

(Y/N) felt her blood run cold. She clutched Izumi tightly and it was as if the little girl sensed her mother’s fear, because her cries fell into small shakes of her body as she recovered. (Y/N) turned around and found the last person she wanted to see at that moment. 

“Azula.” She set her jaw. She felt anger swell inside of her. Azula stared at her smugly. They hadn’t seen each other since she and Zuko had left ot find their mother. Azula had escaped from him and spent years on the run. (Y/N) had heard rumors of Azula gathering subjects for her cause, but what that cause was, she had no idea. 

“I see you’re not without any guards. Very irresponsible of Zuzu, don’t you think?” 

“I can handle myself. Or did you forget about our Agni Kai?” 

She watched Azula’s eye twitch, ever so slightly. “A stroke of luck on your part. I’d be happy to go again. Or perhaps little Izumi would like to try her hand at firebending?” 

(Y/N) held her daughter closer to her. “I’m only teasing. I know she can’t firebend.” 

“What are you doing here, Azula?” 

“It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other, wouldn’t you agree?” 

(Y/N) had to admit that she was scared. She was here, alone, with her daughter and Azula. Even if she fought Azula, Izumi was too small to know that she should stay out of the way of the flames. (Y/N) thought she had been angry when Azula hurt Zuko, but if she hurt Izumi...

Azula sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m here because I wanted to see her. It hurts, not being invited to the wedding, but it hurt more not being told I had a niece.” 

(Y/N) furrowed her brows. “You wanted to see her?” 

“Yes, (Y/N), is that so hard to believe?”

“It is, Azula, considering our history.” Azula scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. 

“I’ve never lied to you.” 

“You’re lying right now!” 

Azula sighed, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out the crown worn by the crown princess of the Fire Nation. She extended her arm out to (Y/N) in offering. “I brought this for her.” 

Cautiously, (Y/N) crept forward to take the crown from Azula’s hand. She put it in the pocket of her robes. She wasn’t sure if Azula was above lacing things with poison. 

“Motherhood has made you overly cautious.” 

“No, I think it was my childhood friends trying to kill me.” 

“You forgave Zuko. Why can’t you forgive me?” 

(Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t. She found herself at a loss for words. How could she explain to Azula that the things she had done were unforgivable.

“You tried to kill me, Azula. You tried to kill the people I love.” 

“And why wasn’t I one of those people, hm?” Azula snapped. “Every single day you chose someone else over me. First it was Zuko. Then it was the Avatar and his friends.” 

“I never chose anyone over you, Azula. You chose the Fire Nation.” 

“And you betrayed me!” Azula’s eyes danced with anger. (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat. Izumi held on tightly to her mother’s robes. 

“I didn’t betray you, Azula. I never wanted to leave you. Your father forced my family to leave. And then I saw the horrible things our nation was doing to people. Everything we had ever believed was a lie.” 

Azula’s eyes brimmed with tears. She wasn’t sure how to feel. She had seen (Y/N) and Izumi alone and her first instinct was to talk to them. She hadn’t planned this far ahead. 

“I never wanted to leave you,” (Y/N) said again. “But you did some horrible things.” 

“You think I’m a monster, just like everyone else.” (Y/N) shook her head. 

“I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you were confused and had no one to be there for you. You are one of the people I love, Azula. You’re just lost.” 

“Don’t throw that word around like that?” (Y/N) stared at her in confusion. “Love. You don’t love me, (Y/N), I love you.” 

“Azula--” 

“I love you! I’ve loved you since we were children and you never saw it, you never realized. You were too focused on Zuko to even give me the time of day.” 

(Y/N) looked at the ground. “I never knew.” She said quietly. 

“I know. So believe me when I say that the only reason I am here is for Izumi. I just wanted to see her.” 

(Y/N) looked back up to see Azula’s face. She was an excellent liar, but (Y/N’s) heart told her that she was telling the truth. About everything. So she took a step forward until they were arm’s length away. 

“Izumi,” She said to her daughter. “This is Aunt Azula. Can you say Azula?” 

Izumi stared shyly at her aunt. “Zula,” She said quietly. (Y/N) watched as Azula broke into a genuine smile, her eyes watering. 

“Hello, little princess.” Hesitantly, she reached out to touch Izumi. Her small palm wrapped against Azula’s finger. 

“Zula,” Izumi said again, quite seriously. 

(Y/N) looked at the sky to see the sun was beginning to set. She turned back to Azula. “Zuko will be expecting us soon.” 

“Don’t tell him,” Azula stared into (Y/N’s) eyes. 

“I won’t. I promise.” 

---

(Y/N) and Izumi returned to the palace a little before dinner. They found Zuko in the throne room, his presence full of advisors. He dismissed them as soon as he saw his wife and daughter. 

Izumi giggled as she ran up to her father. She jumped into his arms and he lifted her high above her head. “How was your picnic?” 

“Very good,” (Y/N) said, the smile on her lips tight. Zuko stared at her for a moment, but decided to let it go. Perhaps Izumi had been difficult today. 

“Zula!” Izumi said happily. (Y/N’s) stomach dropped. “Zula! Zula!”

“What’s she saying?” 

[bored-storyteller]

Second part of the request for @amevinil239

25- Twisted Wonderland- Kalim, Azul, Leona, Riddle x Reader

Anger and home pt. 2

Kalim Al-Asim

-I'm not sure what can get Kalim into arguing, but I'm pretty sure if you're stressed out, his behavior can be irritating sometimes.

-Mostly, Kalim will be blind to your problems. It's not that he doesn't want to see them, but he simply can't.

-And he doesn't listen. Trying to tell him with good manners that you really would need his support and not having to satisfy his whims is difficult.

-Furthermore, Kalim is a good person, perhaps a little childish, but he is not stupid or submissive. If there is a misunderstanding and he feels he is right, he is stubborn on his arguments.

-In any case, he would never intend to hurt you, ever.

-After a fight he will be the most wounded in the soul of the two, and if you run away from him the world will collapse on him.

"That's enough!"

Your voice is so high that it burns your throat as if it were sandpaper.

You never thought you would reach this level of anger and desolation, not with Kalim.

He's angry too, you've never seen him angry. His expression is serious, almost adult.

By now you are tired of making him think. He has never experienced what the suffering of people like you means. It is not his fault.

Yet you can't forgive him, you can't stop being mad at him.

"I just want to go home! Where all this doesn't exist!"

It's not so true, and you know it. You miss home, so badly. But you could never pretend again that this world doesn't exist.

You don't want to look at him again, partly for your badness, partly for shame.

You turn around and run away, hoping he won't hear your sobs. You don't see how much those words hurt him, all the realization you suddenly threw in him.

Curled up in the most hidden corner of the garden, you know he will come to you. Because Kalim is a good person, really good, and he doesn't want to make people suffer.

He knows that because of him many can suffer, you, Jamil... and he hates himself for not knowing how to protect you from this, even if he could.

Sitting next to you he is silent for a while, letting himself be hurt by your sobs.

"I know ..." he murmurs sadly "But ... I'd miss you so much ..."

Those words increase your sobs, but they push you to untie yourself from your knot and push yourself towards him. By placing your head on his lap, you let yourself be caressed by his sweet hands. He is probably crying too, but both of you have finally come close. Because you know that if you are with him, you are a little bit at home anyway.

Azul Ashengrotto

-It is not difficult for Azul to hurt people, nor is he usually too sorry about it. He has suffered so many wounds that he can no longer empathize.

-If something about you doesn't suit him, he will tell you. Usually, however, he will maintain a gentlemanlike air that will soften his criticisms and make them look like advice.

-But there may be that time he says that extra thing without even looking at you, assuming you will listen to it.

-It will probably not even be a discussion, you will lose the desire to stay in his presence before he understands how seriously you are angry.

-If the Leach twins are there, they will be the first to understand how serious the situation is and they will exchange puzzled looks, hoping that Azul will look up from his documents and look at you before it is too late.

-When Azul also realizes it will be like a bucket of ice water on his head. He can't say how bad you looked to him, but it's too late to fix it.

-He won't lose its composure, but it won't let you go anyway.

"I want to go home away from all this!"

Azul can't stop you while you rush out the door.

He just looks at the door from where you're gone out with a surprised face. He hadn't noticed that you were crying.

Jade looks at him with the worried expression of someone who knows how serious the problem is now.

"Do you want me to bring them back?"

Azul shakes his head, and clearing his throat returns to do his job.

You, locked in your room, you don't know how irritable the Octavinelle leader remains for the rest of the day.

You feel alone and abandoned. An apology would have sufficed, but not even the threat of leaving seemed to scratch his heart.

If you can't count on Azul you know that a void will open inside you that will make you feel even more out of place in that world of magic.

You are about to give in to tiredness and sadness. Now all you want to do is disappear between your sheets, but before you can go to bed someone knocks on your door.

Slowly you go to open it. Azul is in front of you, his expression is serious and composed, but in his hand he holds a small paper bag. From the good scent that comes out you know it's your favorite dessert.

"Can I come in?"

His voice is calm and diplomatic, yet it is softer than usual.

You step aside even if you try to stay hard on him. You are still angry, and he realizes it.

He doesn't know how to behave, you know, you see him as he enters your room.

"I know you want to go home."

His voice resounds after a few minutes in silence.

"But until then, please stand by me, even if I'm just a good-for-nothing octopus."

You know how much those words cost him. You don't know if you'll ever hear them again, but you know they are worth more than a million apologies.

You approach him, and slowly taking the bag he brought and you open it.

"Do we eat it together?"

Leona Kingscholar

-Arguing is tiring, it must be serious for Leona to really engage in it.

-Leona listens to the complaints by puffing, he will answer every now and then but she will drop the whole discussion, yawning and maybe giving you reason.

-If it gets serious and he gets really angry, though, you'll see his animal side. If there is an incomprehension between you two that hurts him, he will struggle to restrain himself.

-He could really say things that can hurt you.

-Leona is used to people who are afraid of him. From an early age he was considered "frightening" because of his power. He never really felt appreciated despite his efforts. If you run away from him he will feel really bad.

You exploded at his last growl.

"You know what ?! I hate this place! I want to go back to my house!"

You threw up those words on him and ran away, giving birth to your tears that fell from your cheeks.

Those words hurt you too. You missed home, it is difficult to be divided between two worlds (which you perhaps love both).

You leave a broken Leona behind. His green eyes stare at the spot where you are gone. The prince's mind is good at digging under the surface more than he wants to believe. Did you just tell him you hate him? What do you want to run away from him?

He is not stupid, he knows that you miss your home, but the malice and pain with which you spoke to him displaced him. Maybe he really went overboard with you this time.

Leona doesn't often feel the urge to do something, yet now he wants to talk to you right away. But he doesn't follow you. You would probably chase him away and it would make him and you feel worse.

He only looks for you later hoping that you have calmed down, but he finds you curled up in the greenhouse, with your face hidden in your knees tight against your chest, crying.

Carefully sit next to you, not too close or too far. He knows you know he's there, and you're not sending him away. Good.

"Do you ... really want to get away from me?"

As if he had stung you with a pin you look at him. You are certain you have not said those words but Leona's surprisingly serious (and sad) gaze stops you for a second.

"I won't stop you if that's what you want ... but ... I ..."

Even if he doesn't want to, you feel the knot in his throat from the crack in his voice that prevents him from completing the sentence. You didn't want to hurt him like that, you didn't want to leave him.

Cautiously you approach him, and silently snuggle against his shoulder.

The prince lets you act, while his tail surrounds you widely and his cheek rests on your head.

"I know you miss home ... but I'm here."

Riddle Rosehearts

-Riddle is a demanding person, you know. He is a good boy, but he can easily throw your mood under your shoes.

-For him everything he says is important, so it is often dangerous to challenge him. When it happens it's because he really hits you.

-Yet he won't understand it. He will support his views in anger without realizing how deeply he is digging inside you.

- A stupid argument can get really heavy with him if you don't give in, and sometimes you know it's okay not to give in.

-Riddle knows he has to improve himself, but only realizes it when he's done the damage. And most of the time he doesn't know how to fix it.

Riddle feels a failure when he sees you running away.

He still hears your last words inside himself: "I want to go back to my house!"

He knows everything they mean. All your pain, and all the pain he causes you.

He sighs heavily, bringing a hand to his face and hiding it against his palm.

"I did it again, didn't I?"

Trey only looks at him sympathetically, without replying. All eyes are on the leader, but he doesn't care.

He swallows that wave of impotence that overwhelms him and straightens himself, parading among the students with a determined step, to look for you.

This is no time to be a capricious child, Riddle. It must find you and support you. This is what a leader must do.

You, sitting on a bench, clasp your arms around yourself, seeking comfort in yourself, as you try to silence the tears.

Again Riddle swallows his anguish and approaches you. He's afraid of your reaction, but still he gives you a tissue to wipe away the tears, because that's how a leader behaves, right? He wants you to trust him. He wants to be responsible for you.

"I know you miss home ... and how difficult it is for you to settle here ..."

He begins with a gentler voice. You are not pushing him away, so he dares to sit next to you. hoping to do the right thing.

"But until ... when you can return to your world let me help you."

He doesn't see you reacting, but he feels that your sobs have stopped, maybe he is on track.

"Can you forgive me?"

Finally your hands move, and with a slight thanks you grab what he gives you, cleaning your face.

Riddle feels relieved, it would have been difficult to lose you.

You look at him, and smiling shyly you nod, sure that you forgive him. How can you not forgive such a lovable boy?

[nobleclover]

Coraline: 25 Years Later

The rain started to come down just as the car drove into town. As Coraline focused her attention to the road, her daughter was fixated on the many pedestrians that all gathered for the annual Shakespeare festival, kneeling on her seat.

"Rachel! Sit down or you'll hurt yourself if the car comes to a stop!" Coraline warned. Her daughter slumped back down in her seat, wearing the biggest pout in the world.

As she waited for the lights to change green, Rachel piped up, "Mom, why are there so many people dressed up in weird clothes?"

With a soft chuckle, Coraline answered, "It's because the Shakespeare festival is on. Sometimes people like to take part and dress up in clothes from that era."

"Didn't you say that Shakespeare was boring in school?"

"Yeah, but hey I got good grades with my essays," her mother beamed. No response from her daughter who was still pouting at the window.

Coraline chuckled to herself as that reminded her of when her daughter was young.

Just then, the light changed and the car was on its way to the Pink Palace.

The car pulled up into the drive as Wyborn looked on. He opened the door to say hello to his daughter and asked, "Hey Beansprout! How was the car journey here?"

"Unexciting, apart from all the people wearing Shakespeare clothes," she bluntly answered.

"Hey don't forget about that fallen tree earlier on!" Coraline quipped.

"Yeah, but it's not as interesting as a festival that a bunch of theatre nerds put on," Rachel shrugged.

"Hey! Your mom and I were pretty good in the theatre," Wyborn interjected.

"Oh yeah, well at least I didn't forget my lines one time in Hamlet," his wife teased.

"Yes, and you almost didn't show up to star in King Lear because –" he was cut off by a sharp nudge to the forearm.

"Hey, it was my dad's fault for not buying petrol!" she replied, half laughing.

Already disinterested with this light – hearted quarrel, Rachel tugged on her mother's sleeve and asked, "Can I go out and explore the garden?"

"Yes, you can. Just don't go to far beyond the garden," Coraline said.

As Rachel set out for the garden, her dad called out, "Just remember to avoid the poison oak!"

Rachel rolled her eyes at this statement. She's been on more nature walks to count with her dad and already knows pretty much every poisonous plant there is to find. She's certainly not that stupid to just pick it up.

When she reached the garden gate, she pushed it open and gazed at all the flowers growing in the flowerbeds. She was told that before her mother moved here, it looked very barren and grey, but soon enough it managed to look beautiful again when her family and neighbours planted some tulips. Now all the flowerbeds had their own unique colour of flower, all of which were shades of red and orange. Why didn't they make it more interesting and add different coloured flowers to every bed? I don't see why all the flowers here are just autumn colours.

Suddenly, a small noise from the end of the garden caught her attention. Turning around, she scanned the back gate to see what it was. Was it the gate swinging in the wind? Her eyes caught a small shrub rustling excitedly, upon which a small black cat jumped out.

Rachel chuckled as the cat gave her the most petrified stare ever. She took a few steps forward and said, "Aww, were you scared of me?"

In response, the little cat darted up the hill. She wanted to go follow it but had to make sure her mother wasn't anywhere to be seen in the kitchen window. She squinted her eyes up at the house and focused on the kitchen window. Only her granddad was there, back facing the garden. She cautiously stepped out through the front gate and made her way around the garden wall to the hill. While walking, she swore to herself that she'd only be gone for a minute.

She quietly whispered to the trees, hoping the little cat would come out, "Come on, kitty! I won't hurt you. Come on, kitty!" She craned her neck around hoping for some sign but all she could see were shadows that were easily dark enough for the cat to blend in.

"Was the garden too small for you?"

Rachel abruptly turned around to find Coraline standing there, with a slightly disapproving look on her face.

"I – I was just…" she stammered.

Her mother's frown changed into a gentle smile as she walked over and tussled her hair, much to her annoyance. She looked down at the garden and said, "It's okay, kiddo. I'd easily get bored when I was your age."

Rachel looked down and noted, "You know, it would look better with some blue flowers. Like, around the edge of the garden."

"Why blue?" asked Coraline, vaguely remembering a different garden.

"Because blue is a calming colour, too much red and orange makes it look angry," her daughter replied.

Coraline mused on how insightful her daughter was as an artist. She most likely passed it down to her since she was pretty creative as well. Still, the thought of blue flowers jogged a forbidden memory in her head, one that reminded her of a world that was indeed too good to be true. A memory which also reminded her of that creature.

"Come on, Rachel," she said, "let's go in and set everything up for Nana's birthday."

Everything went well, people were having a nice time, the food was pretty tasty, as it always was whenever Great Aunt Sherry was behind the stove. Rachel was having fun, playing hide and seek with her second cousins, in which she was the seeker. Soon enough, one of her other cousins had to be the seeker so she needed to find a good place to hide. They were running out of good hiding spots so, some of them went to hide outside instead, sneaking around cars and such. One hid under the dining room table, while Rachel went off into the sitting room.

She remembered that there was a little door in the living room and scurried off there. Some adults, including her dad, were just talking and she quickly ran to the door and pulled on it.

Locked.

Desperately, she hid in the small crowd of adults that were all sitting or standing in front of the fireplace. To her fortune, her father placed his oversized brown jacket over her as a means of concealment. Thankfully, she wasn't found that easily, but still felt a little miffed that the door was locked. Soon enough, the excitement of the party gave way to tiredness, and all the guests went home.

Coraline and Wyborn drove with their sleeping daughter in the backseat of the car. She was propped up against the car window and wrapped in her father's jacket. She was dead to the world, she didn't even stir as.

As they drove further and further along, Wyborn said, "Well, I think that party went well, don't you?"

"Yeah," his wife uttered.

"It would be nice to go back there again, despite…you know…"

Soon enough, they came to a stop at the train crossing, where Coraline turned to her husband.

"It's not that I don't think that place isn't safe for her, I love taking her to see her grandparents," she began, "it's just…"

She sighed, propping her head slightly against her fingers.

"You don't need to explain," he said.

"No, Wybie. I just want to feel that I can trust her to take care of herself without having to worry about the possibility of EVERY bad thing happening to her," she explained.

Wyborn was a little stunned that she called him by his old nickname.

"Sometimes, I still have dreams that she's still alive or that her hand has escaped. That she's stealing different kids away through different doors. I know it sounds paranoid of me but…"

"Hey, don't worry too much about Rachel. She's pretty brave and smart for her age, kinda like you were back then. Also, I'm not trying to brush this off but I'm pretty sure that witch can't hurt anyone ever again."

Coraline half – smiled before replying, "It just…unnerves me to think what could've happened if I said yes. How my parents would've felt if I was missing."

"I can't even imagine how it must've been for Gramma when her sister disappeared," he added.

There was an awkward silence as the train quickly disappeared between bushels of trees, before the gates opened again for the car to pass through.

When they finally reached their house, Coraline tapped hard on the window her daughter was sleeping against. Rachel stirred and tiredly got out of the car, leaning slightly against her mother's arm, her head feeling slightly heavy after the long car journey.

As soon as she was in bed, her mother came in to say goodnight, to which she softly replied, "Mom…you know I'm too old for that."

"I know," Coraline chuckled, "I just want you to have a good night's sleep that's all."

She turned towards the door before: "Hey, mom?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Who were you talking about in the car?"

Coraline hesitated. Did she really hear all of that?! No, she was completely out cold, she must have been.

"No – one, sweetie. Now go to sleep," she whispered, planting a light kiss on her daughter's forehead.

Coraline soon got ready for bed, thinking over what she might want to tell her daughter. After mulling over it quite a bit, she decided to tell her daughter the story of some weird old woman who tried to steal her near the Pink Palace. Not really far off from the truth, but at least it will sound believable. Hopefully, she'll forget that conversation she and Wyborn had in the car that evening.

As she and her husband settled into bed, Coraline stayed up a little bit thinking about her visit to the other world. She thought of how everything seemed so colourful, fun, warm and safe; how more open and friendly the residents seemed and how close she was to wanting to stay there. She couldn't get the Other Mother out of her mind, her thin, ruby smile which slowly eroded to a crooked hollow grin, like a spider eyeing its prey.

She thought back on her last words, "I'll die without you!" Would she really have died after that encounter? Is that little door in her old living room the only access she has to the real world? Hopefully she is no longer a threat, hopefully.

She turned around and closed her eyes, praying that she wouldn't see the hag in her dreams that night.

[outer-bnks]

Two Burning Hearts Are Dared to Break (JJ x Original Character) Ch. 2

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

After a night of comforting JJ, Elle wakes to him gone with no explanation. The Pogues meetup to discuss what they’re going to say in their police interrogations. Elle hatches a plan to get them out of trouble.

Picks up after 1x10.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of child abuse/bruises from child abuse, grief, death of a loved one, talk of juvie/police interrogation

A/N: The Pogues don’t know that Rafe killed the Sheriff in this fic. Also does anyone know if the Pogues actually found out about Rafe killing her?? I don't remember seeing John B or Sarah tell them - only Topper. Anywhoo, this picks up directly after Chapter 1. 

A fight/angst scene between JJ and Elle coming in the next few chapters. 

Word count: 1,979

feedback/comments/likes/reblogs really appreciated

---- A dull, insistent buzzing woke Elle, rolling onto her side to grab her phone from her bedside table. Incoming call: Kie kie.

Still half asleep, Elle answered groggily, her head still resting on her pillow “Hello?”.

“Hey babe...uh.. how are you?”, Kie asked cautiously.

Elle sighed, the reality of their situation slapping in her in the face. The storm. John B. Sarah. JJ. Looking to her left, her bed was empty, the blonde haired boy missing.

“Alright as I can be I guess. How are you, did you manage to get any sleep?” Elle questioned, knowing that Kiara’s brain constantly working in overdrive wouldn’t have allowed her the rest she needed. The rest they all needed.

“Uhm, I got a few hours in. Oh, do you know where JJ is? Pope messaged me saying we should meet at the chateau before the questioning to sort out our stories, but he couldn’t grab a hold of JJ”. Elle sat up her, her head feeling as though it was throbbing. She looked around her room, searching for any sign that JJ was still around. Whether it was from the two hours sleep she’d gotten after she’d spent the night holding JJ, whispering words of affirmation whilst he attempted to calm down, or from the idea of having to face the police after the major shit show that had occurred over the past few days.

“Yeah J spent the night with me, but”, moving from her bed and down the stairs, she checked each room she passed to see whether he had snuck off during the night or had woken up and left her so not to disturb her, “It looks like he’s gone”. Now in the kitchen there was no sign of JJ. No plates or pans left over from a possible breakfast, no sound coming from the TV, Elle thinks if he was still here the TV would definitely be on. JJ had always preferred some kind of sound on to distract him when he’d been feeling any other than his usual self.

“Oh ok.” Kie paused, racking her brain to come up with their next steps. “I’ll check by all our usual places and meet at the Chateau in 20?”.

“Yeah, sounds good. See you then”, Elle didn’t waste any time, heading back to her room to get ready for the, probably disastrous, day ahead of her. 

------

The drive to the Chateau felt excruciatingly long. Jumbled thoughts ran round and round in Elle’s head, trying to conjure up a plan that would decriminalise John B and get Ward the retribution he needed. 

Pulling in, a wave of emotion rushed over her. Her heart sinking into her stomach, their place of sanctuary, that held every memory that the Pogues had together, was now empty of life and cold.

Pope enveloped Elle in a tight hug as soon as he saw her in the doorway. Placing his face in her shoulder and squeezing slightly before letting go. 

Wordlessly, they moved over to the couch on the porch, taking a seat. Elle broke the silence first “Is Kie here yet?”.

A flicker of pain crossed Pope’s features, looking towards the water, “Nah, she’s still looking for JJ”. Silence followed, guilt crawling its way into Elle’s thoughts. She had one job. To make sure JJ was okay. And she couldn’t even do that. “Right...” she answered, looking out to the water, bringing her bottom lip into her mouth out of habit.

“Where would he even take off too? I thought he stayed with you last night?” he questioned. Elle studied his face, trying to decipher if he was mad. But there was no accusation or underlying frustration in his tone. 

Elle nodded, “He came back to mine after the, uh.. the storm. Woke up to Kie’s phone call and he was gone”. Pope picked up on the sadness that was laced in her answer, wondering if there was more to the story than she led on.

As if on cue, Kie’s four wheel drive turned into the driveway. Elle’s eyes not leaving the car, waiting to see if she had found him. 

Begrudgingly, JJ exited the passenger side. Wearing a clean white t-shirt that clung to his toned body, his usual style of shorts and boots adorning the lower half of his body, his trusty red hat pulling his hair out of his face. He must’ve gone home and changed. Elle felt herself release a breath of relief at the sight of him, simultaneously cringing at the thought of him leaving her this morning to return to that house, instinctively searching his body for any visible signs of new marks or bruises.

Stepping up onto the porch, Kie and Elle embraced in a hug, a rare moment of affection between the girls. Usually they showed their love for eachother through words and actions, but at this moment Elle didn’t know if there were any words left.

JJ walked straight past the pair, nodding at Pope in acknowledgement and plopping himself down in the chair to the left of the couch. Taking a puff from his jule and blowing out while keeping his eyes on the backyard.

Kie took Elle’s seat next to Pope, Elle choosing to stand against the railing of the fence. Glancing at JJ, she studied him, waiting for him to turn and acknowledge her. She felt a strong pang of hurt when he made an obvious effort to keep his eyes on anything but her, his jaw clenching and releasing a breath of smoke.

The tension went unnoticed by the others as Pope spoke up “We need to get our story straight before we get dragged into questioning. They’re gonna want to know everything, and I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want to go to jail for being an accessory to crimes, for stealing, for trespassing or for any other illegal shit we did. I can’t.”

“Why can’t you, it’s not like you’re getting that stupid scholarship anyway”, JJ responded. An air of arrogance and disregard around him. 

Pope scoffed in disbelief, “Yo that scholarship was the only thing that was going to get me out of this fucking place! And I lost it, for the gold that we didn’t even get. I didn’t lose that scholarship for me, I lost that scholarship for us!” 

“Pope” Kie tried to mediate.

“No, Kie. Just because I lost the scholarship doesn’t mean I’m happy to spend the rest of my life rotting away in a cell.” Pope responded, looking between his friends.

Silence filled the group.

“You’re right Pope.” Elle interjected. 

Pope abruptly turned his head to her. “What?” 

“You’re right. You have so much potential. You actually can get out of this place. You’ve got too much to lose. You shouldn’t have to take the blame for this.” 

Pope and Kie shared a look of confusion, JJ still maintaining his avoidance of his friends looks.

Kie, tied her hair up, the North Carolina heat getting to her “What do you propose then E?”

Elle looked at each of her friends, organising her thoughts. Did she want to go through with this? Was this going to come back to bite her in the ass? Definitely. Was she willing to go through with this to save the only friends she had left? Of course. “I’ll take the blame”.

“What, are you serious?”

“No, you’re not doing that!”

JJ was the only one not to speak out. His gaze finally shifting from the horizon to look at her. She searched his face. For anything. Any kind of emotion, but found nothing.

“I’ll take all the blame. Look, if we admitted that we all had a part in this, then we’ll get in the shit. It’ll be put on record, and even though we’re minors, this county isn’t going to just forget it. We’ll probably get tried as adults, where they can really charge us for the things we’ve done”.

“E, stop.”

“No Kie, listen”

“If Pope admits to it, his future is gone. It’s hard enough to get into a college when you’re from the Cut, not to mention a criminal from the Cut.” Pope nodded, agreeing with her points, but his face held a look of slight concern.

“Same with JJ. And after already being arrested so recently, he’s sure to get thrown straight into juvie. And if not, he has to return home.” Elle’s tone showed that returning home might be just as bad as juvie, if not worse.

JJ rose from his seat, pointing a finger at her, “Don’t Elle. Don’t bring my Dad into this” maintaining eye contact. “We got ourselves into this shit, for someone who’s dead, why should we pay for it at all? They killed him and Sarah. Not us. I say we don’t speak at all. Pull that ‘5th amendment or I’m waiting for my lawyer shit’ that they do in movies”.

Everyone felt the blow of him speaking about John B and Sarah like that. But Elle considered his idea. It wasn’t horrible. If none of them spoke, what would they do? What could they do? But surely, knowing Shoupe and the way they relentlessly chased John B down, there was no way they were gonna let Peterkin’s murder fly under the radar. 

“That’s not going to work JJ. They’re going to keep pressing and pressing until one of us cracks. Why not beat them to it?” Elle responded.

“Wait, why can’t we just blame John B and Sarah?” JJ asked, oblivious to how inconsiderate a question like that was right now.

Kie shot back immediately, “For killing the Sheriff? Because they didn’t do it you asshole!”.

JJ rolled his eyes, his ignorance clear in his words, “No not for that, just for everything else, they’re already dead, what’s the har-” he asked with a shrug. It wasn’t what he was suggesting, it was how he was talking about them. 

Kie cut him off “Stop saying that they’re dead, you don’t know that JJ!”

JJ shook his head in disbelief, “I do know it. And so do all of you. You’re kidding yourselves if you think they could’ve survived that fucking storm. Don’t be so gullible, they’re never coming back!”.

Raising his voice, Pope shouted, “Enough!” cutting off the conversation.

A deeper sombre mood fell over the group. No one knowing what to say or what to address. The conversation had led to the truth that none of them wanted to acknowledge.

Ignoring the outburst, Elle continued, “Kie, if you admit it, you’re going to be in deep shit too. Except you have Kook privilege and will still probably be able to get into college, or go overseas to build homes and schools in third world countries. And that’s the same for me. My Dad’s probably already hired some fancy hot-shot lawyer and hopefully we’ll get off with a slap on the wrist. As long as they know we had nothing to do with Peterkin, and we tell the truth about Ward, we’ll be fine”.

“Yeah, sure, we’ll be fine” JJ sarcastically laughed, sitting back down on the chair. But instead he kept his eyes on Elle, making her shift with nerves.

Focusing on Pope and Kie, Elle quirked an eyebrow, silently questioning if they agreed with her idea. Looking at each other, a silent conversation was had. 

“Ok, I’m in. But my parents are going to ground me for life when they have to pick me up from juvie”, Kie stood, walking up to the railing beside her and taking a deep breath. 

Elle turned to the boys, waiting for their disapproval. JJ took another puff of his jule, blowing the smoke out and avoiding the group. Pope sighed, knowing that this was the best option they had right now. “Alright, talk us through the plan then, Mrs 007”.

----

let me know if you want to be on the Taglist, this is going to be a longgg fic haha

Taglist: @mybillyhardgrove

[alittlebitgoofy]

glass wings chapter 6 (lemonjuice)

took a lil bit but chapter 6 is here with 7 being mostly done, just needing more work and editing. i've been really excited for where this is going, i hope people enjoy :)

thanks to emerald for betaing they do be very entertaining

ao3 link

“You’ve gotten better! Try to relax more, though, let yourself feel the power before you use it.” Jan held back a laugh. Lemon had a lot of skill, but no patience to let it build up before doing something. She picked things up quickly, but the lack of attention after a short while was a little concerning.

“That sounds like a lot of effort,” Lemon whined, her eyes glued to her hands, still sparkling as she’d managed to teleport herself and Jan.

“You’re not good at that are you? Paying attention to people or focusing on things.”

“I’m also not good with people!” Lemon looked thoughtful before blurting out a response with a grin. She shrugged, it was something she’d always struggled with so why be negative about it? Though the positivity masked something darker, she wouldn’t let her self-doubt seep into this. It could bottle up and come out at a more reasonable time than when she was trying to pay attention to Jan’s teachings.

“I can tell, that’s not a thing to boast about.”

Jan shook her head, though they hadn’t known each other for that long, Lemon had become a little sister of sorts. They had a lot of similarities in their level of energy and excitement for small things nevertheless Jan could calm herself when needed. Maybe it was due to having a few years of life experience on the smaller girl.

“Maybe it is! Me and Juice have that in common.” It wasn’t surprising how she managed to bring up her best friend. Throughout their conversations, Lemon couldn’t help but bring Juice up every now and then. She had a big impact on the pixie although she wouldn’t admit it to her, knowing how smug Juice would get for succeeding in trying to calm the troublemaker.

“You and Juice have a lot in common, Lem. She’s a bit calmer than you though.” Jan lightly elbowed her in the arm, laughing at the overdramatic squeal she let out.

The noise alerted Rock, peering her head round the door before shrugging and going back inside. The pixies were both loud, dramatic people. It wasn't too shocking to see them play fighting. Something about the way Jan had taken Lemon under her wing was adorable though. She’d found her way into Rock’s life quite the same way. She was quick to warm up to people, endlessly loving to the point it was hard not to like her back.

The elf wondered if she would tire of this, her seclusion from people or the way she lived. Deep down she couldn’t help but hope Jan would stay with her, however unlikely that may be.

----

Crying. That was all Kiara could hear. It was faint, sounding as if the person didn’t want to be heard but couldn’t hold back their feelings. It hurt her to hear, and she fluttered over to the source of the sound cautiously. The sight of someone hunched over, head in their arms sobbing came into view. Then she realised who it was.

Juice couldn’t hold it back, her cold demeanor could only last for so long before she broke down. Though she thought she was alone, finally comfortable to let out her pent-up feelings, she heard someone fly around her, a concerned voice asking if she was okay.

Juice froze, looking up wide-eyed. Her stomach dropped as Kiara stared back at her, concern written all over her face. Though she didn’t move, the tears didn’t stop from rolling down her paralysed face. Everything was too much to deny, she’d been caught and had to say something to get Kiara off her back but the excuses weren’t there. She could do nothing but accept the hug her friend offered and cry more.

“Juice, hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you so upset,” Kiara spoke in a hushed tone, holding the shaking girl closer. Juice wasn’t one to show much vulnerability, even to a close friend, something must have happened to cause this.

Juice couldn’t verbalise a response, struggling over her words before crying more, half out of frustration for her lack of communication skills and the other regarding everything happening at that moment.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I’m here for you, yeah?” Kiara rubbed her friends back supportively, whispering supportive words to her as the tears showed little sign of stopping.

That was what Juice did, she bottled up her emotions until they spilled over. It wasn’t a smart strategy, but it kept her able to function most of the time. She was used to swallowing down everything until the last moment that releasing it felt foreign. It was terrifying to do in front of another, although the way Kiara supported her made it feel that little bit better.

---

“Juice? You alright there? You’re thinking a lot, that’s worrying.” Tynomi hovered over the smaller girl, confusion etched onto her features. Juice realised she’d been blankly staring, her mind distracted by a distant memory that decided to make itself known again. It brought up a sour taste of how she put too much into her training, leaving the one friendship she had from getting closer. Kiara was the closest she ever got to someone her age before Lemon.

It stung in hindsight, knowing that had been the only time she opened up to Kiara. The fear stopped her after, not wanting to ruin any perception of strength she had. They’d talked about it after, once Juice had become the leader of their clan and Kiara had settled into a medic role. But it wasn’t the same as adults with responsibilities. Juice couldn’t help but yearn for her adolescent ignorance but also resented that time with a passion. At least now she had people around her, even if the walls rarely came down.

“I’m allowed to think, you should try it sometime,” Juice laughed as Tynomi looked taken aback before returning with an amused smile.

“Oh? She’s suddenly gotten a lot happier. You were moping yesterday and today you’ve bounced right back? I’m happy to see it.”

Juice felt an arm snake its way around her shoulders. Though she didn’t move away, the action felt foreign. She got along quite well with Tynomi. She had to, since they ran the entire clan between the two of them. Tynomi was also good for picking up things Juice couldn’t do, namely talking to people. She handled the large speaking roles, Juice’s anxiety getting the better of her a lot of the time.

They’d never been like this, something easier. A friendship.

Oh. A friendship. She had those. Multiple.

Juice smiled, relaxing into the affection. Tynomi almost couldn't believe she was seeing the infamously serious fairy relax. She knew of Juice’s issues with people, even those she’d consider a friend. Maybe that pixie was a good influence.

“So, Lemon? Ever since she’s come around you’ve been a little different.” Tynomi saw something change in Juice at the mention of her friend. Something she never thought she’d see from the leader. “Little Juice, she’s fallen in love hasn’t she.”

Juice stared blankly, processing before her eyes widened, a heat of embarrassment lighting up her face.

“You are!” Tynomi erupted into laughter at the way Juice avoided her gaze. Her eyes fell to the floor, though the blush on her face was clear from the way it crept its way up to her ears.

“Tynomi!” Juice cursed herself for not having any other response, only a squeak of protest due to how flustered she was. Was it that obvious? She’d been acutely aware there was something different about her and Lemon’s relationship but to call it love was startling

But it felt right.

Lemon had been nothing but a good influence on her, letting her calm down when things got too overwhelming and always finding a way back to her side. She’d felt so much happier since they started to get close. It finally all made sense. Lemon was an escape from the repetitive stress of her duties and lack of close relationships. The pixie forced her way in and helped fix the issues without realising.

She loved Lemon. Now, she had to process everything that went with that.

----

Kyne felt her heart melt as Kiara played with their dragon. He was a rowdy little guy, always wanting to play or follow one of his mothers. He’d clambered around her lap for a little while before setting his sights on the most comfortable looking place, her hair. Kiara attempted to get him off but the little guy was persistent. He made his way up her arm, gleefully nestling his hair into the curly afro. Kyne knew Kiara was against it but couldn't stop the sight, it was too adorable to intervene.

“Ok boy, I know it’s comfortable but can you please come down?” Kiara spoke to the dragon softly, a hand moving to slowly stroke his scales. Her question received a growl of protest, Pythy waving his wings to get her hands off as she attempted to move the small reptile.

The pleading look Kiara sent her made Kyne begrudgingly step in, lifting the dragon off without much difficulty, though he looked utterly betrayed by the act. An indignant huff and flick of his tail was all the anger he had in him before going back to begging for pets in Kiara’s lap.

Their quiet downtime could only last so long, a sudden noise got the attention of the trio as something came crashing through the door.

“Kiki! Kyne!” Juice flew through, her words fast and panicked. Pythy leapt up with a growl, relaxing upon seeing the familiar face.

“Have you seen Lemon?” Juice’s eyes watered, her face contorted in a pained sorrow. Despite the melancholy of her appearance, she seemed fidgety. Anxiety bubbling under the surface of sadness she carried.

“No? Isn’t she normally with you?” Kyne questioned, her tone trying to be soft enough to not rile up the smaller girl.

“Well, she isn’t!” Juice snapped, a wave of intense anger took over her as she went flying off. Kiara roughly grabbed her wrist, stopping her from leaving but causing the fairy to struggle like she was being held captive. “Kiara! Let go of me!” Her voice was higher, louder than her friend had ever heard. Juice continued to struggle, though it came to bite her as Kiara took a grip on both of her wrists.

“Juice? What happened?” Though her grip tightened, Kiara struck the right tone to get through to the thrashing girl. She held no anger in her words or eyes, only genuine concern that made her friend finally break.

The pain in her tone broke their heart, Juice turned around, eyes unable to move from the floor. Her whole body trembled as she held back a sob. Her tone was broken, solemn words spoken by someone who had the one thing she loved ripped away in the blink of an eye.

“Lemon is missing.”

[groovycatcollector]

The Wonderfully Right, And The Horribly Wrong (Daryl Dixon Love story)

Summery: After losing her brother and his wife, one young woman is left on her own, caring for a new born and trying to survive. After being taken in to a community after years of mistrust, how will she adapt, and what effect will a certain archer have on her. Starts the last episode of season 5

Warnings: slow-burn, angst, eventual fluff, violence, strong language. ptsd, age gap

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x OFC

Chapter 8

“We look like a danm ‘Baby and Me’ group” I joked, sitting across from Carl in the kitchen. Both of us had put our kids on the floor with pillows around them, making it a sort of make-shift baby fort. I poured us both some water before grinning like a mad woman with my chin resting in my hands.

“Who is she?” I sang, knowing I was irritating him. He plonked his big cowboy hat onto the table “If you’re gonna be annoying I can ask someone else” Carl looked as if he was trying to be an adult, and I looked as if I was trying to be a kid, bit of an odd pair.

“Who are you gonna talk to? Eugene? Morgan?” I was poking the bear, suddenly I pretended to be horrified, sitting back in the seat. “Oh no” He looked puzzled “Oh sweet Jesus no” I exclaimed. “You” I jolted forward pointing an accusatory finger at him “You were gonna talk to Abraham weren’t you?”

He looked at me blankly, arms crossed “Nina” I sat back, my outburst over. “I’m just saying he’s shit with the ladies” I missed goofing around with people, Carl reminded me of Beau, the baby’s daddy; Serious, a bit shy but as sweet as sugar on the inside. “Seriously who is she” I said again, a bit more serious. “Or at least what kind of person she is”

He talked, talked a good bit, and even though it obviously was Enid he still wouldn’t confess. I’ve seen her walking around, she was pretty, also the only girl his age. “Well, what does she like?” I was spinning my web was master match making, I missed this. “Find something your both into, make it a thing. Know anything she likes?” He shrugged, oh Jesus save me,teenaged boys

“Okay, what do you like about her?”  Carl paused “Shes smart, and pretty” okay… not much to go on “Have you expressed any interest?” He was rubbing his knees and his face was getting redder by the minute. “Okay well complement her, for a start. Or maybe start off my showering, that’s always a good place to start. Then find something you’re both interested in and go from there”

Carls face lit up like he had an idea “I know what to do” I could barely blink before he had swept up his hate and Judith and nearly ran out the door. Letting out a sigh I sat back

“Okay then”

I needed to get ready anyways, I was going on a run with Spencer Daryl and

 **

“Seriously stop thanking us, we can use the practice” Glenn scolded taking the bag of formula as Maggie bounced the baby on her lap while I shrugged the kami jacked I found in storage over my shoulders. I smiled, grateful to the couple that they consider babysitting “practice” for their oncoming child, still, I needed to go on this run, wanting to find a gift for the two to them as a congratulations present, and a few other things.

Glenn set the bag down on the counter “So feed every two hours, if he cries we check the diaper, feed, and bounce”

I rolled my eyes, he had a look on his face like he was saying this more for me then him. I crossed my arms, knowing what he was doing “Yes, okay you got it” I admitted, throwing my hands up in defeat. He leaned agents the island “He’ll be fine, stop stressing” I looked down and back up at him, I know he will be; especially with Glenn and Maggie. Taking a deep breath I decide to ask them.

I twitched my nose. “Hey Mag, could you come over here?” Her head darted in my direction, before standing, keeping the baby close to her chest. I shuffled my feet, brushing my hair out of my face “So you know how he’s being baptized in a few days?” They looked calm, Sweet Jesus I hope they say yes. “W-W-Well” Oh no, I started stuttering again, I could never shake that habit off “I was wondering” Fuck sake, deep breath “Wouldyouliketobehisgodparents?”

They stared at me blankly, “What” Maggie asked, before a wash of understanding washes over her face, and her shoulders relax. “Just in case anything happens to me, I want to know he’ll be well looked after" I explained desperately, my hand moving way too much for it to look natural.

Glenn glanced at Maggie, who smiled back “Of course we will” Glenn said, reaching out and touching my Bicep. A wave of relief washed over me, relaxing my muscles. “Thank you” I said, genuinely grateful. “When is the christening?” Maggie asked, starting to bounce the Baby I have yet to name in her arms. The other name threw me off and I tried to remember

“In a few days, Gabriel said he needed to refresh his memory of Catholic baptisms” Maggie nodded “Just tell us the morning of and we’ll be there” She smiled, and I hoped that they understood what they were getting into.

  **

  I sat in between Daryl and Spencer in the pick-up truck waiting for the turn off into the small town, where hopefully we’d fine a few shops that still had a few products inside.  I could them some baby clothes, or some wood and make them a crib. Spencer attempted to make small talk over Daryl’s useless stick driving but to no avail; both Daryl and I were focused on other matters. My leg occasionally bumping agents Daryl’s or Spencer’s thighs, causing Daryl to tense his arms agents the wheel and Spencer to move closer to me.

After knocking on the window we strolled into the shop, all armed with only hand knives, Spencer staying close behind as I followed Daryl. The store was dark and silent, expect for a few bangs of a stuck Rotter. Scanning the shelves, seeing a few boxes of incense, I figured it must have been a bit of a Hippie shop. Shoving whatever labelled ‘Natural Remedy’ into my rucksack; only a few bottles of oils and dried herbs.

“I’m gonna check the back” I called out, heading towards that door that said ‘employees only’ where the nagging was coming from.

Daryl shot me a look “Nah, I’ll get the walkers in a sec,”. Rolling my eyes at his dismissal I opened the door to the back. The second my hand pulled the handle back I knew I fucked up. The walker over powering me, and knock me to the floor.

Shit. Shit. His teeth biting and snapping towards my neck getting out a grunt I tried to bring my knife up to his head, but I couldn’t reach.

The only thing blocking his jaws from my neck was my forearm. Shit, I tried to kick my legs, trying to knock him over, but that only made him get closer to my face. I pushed the rotter back a little, just about to get my knife through its temple, but a knife went through his eye, inches away from my chin away from my chin.

Throwing him off of me I gasped for air .My ‘savoir’ spoke “Fuck Nina I told you I’d get it” I looked to Daryl standing over me, with a red face and veins pulsating in his neck. I propped myself up on my elbows “I had him” I huffed in annoyance. “Shit was reckless and you know” Jesus I feel like I’m being scolded for sneaking out on a school night. Spencer had slipped behind me into the store room.

Pushing myself to my feet I stand only a few inches away from him “I said I had him” Daryl stepped back. “Really? It didn’t look like it. Actually it looked like you were about to get bit” My temper was getting the better of me, I would have apologized if he didn’t have his finger in my face. I slapped it away, the dark shop making him seem more threatening, but this only pissed me off more.

Jesus Christ what is wrong with him. “I said I had it Dixon” I spat, turning on my heel and walking into the back. Obviously Daryl didn’t feel like this conversation was over, he grabbed my arm and was about to open his mouth to scold me.

I quickly decided that I wasn’t listening to a lecture before blurting out an “I’m sorry”. He dropped my arm, his eyes were a stern blue trying to read me. I’m a good liar, I know that much, but see saw threw it. He squinted his eyes before walking past me into the back.

“Clothes, shitty CD’s and candles mostly” Spencer announced as we walking in. It was dark due to the lack of windows, turning on my torch so I could get a better look “Take the clothes, they can be used has bandages” I said.

I strained my eyes trying to read the labels on boxes threw the dust. I brushed the curls off my face finding a book. “Natural Births: A Doulas Guide”, perfect, now I’ve a little thank you present for the godparents

Stuffing clothes I thought could be bandages I looked down, and saw a purple scarf and smiled at the genital colour. Hesitating to pick it up, it felt so wrong to even consider something frivolous at the end of the world.

Actually, no it didn’t. Fuck it I want a pretty head head scarf. I put my rucksack down warped it around my head once, just enough to keep the hairs off my face.

I walked over to the boys hearing a few laughs and a few “fuck yeahs” after curiosity got the better of me. They were kneeling down over three or four boxes, and peering over I could just about see glass bottles.

Spencer turned, smiling while handing me one of the mixed matched bottles. “This has been a great day” He beamed before turning back to the boxes. I brought my torch up to the bottle, no label.

I cautiously unscrewed it, taking a whiff. Immediately regretting it as the smell burnt my nose hairs. Regret soon turned into pure joy after registering what I smelt

Moonshine.

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part Five Part six Part seven

 Part nine Part ten Part eleven

Tags: @buckysjuicyplums

[beatricethecat2]

if/then (2.0) - 24

My brain's been floundering lately as this lockdown has dragged on and on. I've been finding it hard to focus, as I'm sure many of us have. One way of pushing through has been shaping this chapter into something readable. The last few days, I finally fell into a groove (while ignoring other work, but whatever, do it while you can, right?). So thank you B&W for that! This chapter sees them finally hitting the downslope, where pieces start fitting together for realz. I'm fairly certain I've been able to do that while still making sense (let me know if that's not the case.) Stay safe and healthy out there! And as always, typos are all mine. (edited 8/16/20)

///////////////////////////

"Mom, wake up! Someone's in the driveway!"

The bed wobbles. Myka's eyes strain to open. It's too early for this. They just drifted off.

"Alright," Helena mumbles, turning away from Myka. "Hand me my robe. It's just over there."

As Helena's warmth recedes, so do the covers. Myka grabs a handful and yanks them up, shielding Christina from an eyeful of her unclothed form.

Helena parts the curtains and light spills across the room. She peers out into the yard as Christina hugs her waist and peeks from behind.

"I'll go down. You stay with Myka," Helena says to Christina.

"But Mom…"

"No buts." Helena crouches down and pulls Christina into a hug.

"You're going like that?" Myka scoots back, propping herself up with the headboard, holding fast to the covers.

"It will buy us some time. I very much doubt they'll want me as is." Helena gestures at her robed, disheveled appearance.

"No, but I do," Myka says, extending a hand.

“Oh, how I wish I could stay," Helena says, walking over. She tugs Myka towards her, causing Myka to fall slightly forward. She plants a kiss on Myka's sleepy lips, her fingers combing through Myka's increasingly wavy hair.

"Hurry back," Myka says as Helena slips out the door. She then shimmies under the covers toward Helena's side of the bed. Reaching down, she scoops up her pants from where she wiggled out them, sliding them on while scanning the room for her shirt. It landed somewhere, but where is a mystery, having been otherwise occupied when it was flung off.

She'd joined Helena after tucking Christina in, a ritual Christina said she'd grown out of, but asked Myka to perform anyway. She'd found Helena in her bedroom, busying herself folding laundry, dressed in only a robe after showering. As the door clicked closed, the robe fell to the floor as if the sound prompted its fluid removal. Myka's heart leaped as Helena rushed toward her, their lips crashing, limbs tangling together. Her shirt was liberated first, the rest in fits and starts until they hit the bed without a shred of clothing on between them.

"Mom!" Christina cries.

"What's happening?” Myka asks, cloaking herself in the blanket and rushing over.

"They opened the door, a-and I thought they were taking her!"

Out the window, Myka sees a man handing Helena a brown bag while a woman watches from the side. Helena peers into the bag and nods then makes her way back into the house.

Christina runs toward the door.

"Wait!" Myka yelps.

Christina freezes.

"Your mom said to stay here." Myka swipes a shirt off the laundry pile and turns away, slipping it over her head. Once it’s on, she lifts her arms, it's a little tight but better than the blanket.

"Sit with me," she says, walking toward the bed and patting the space next to her as she sits.

Christina moves toward her but then steps to the door as feet ascend the stairs.

"What's in the bag?" Myka asks the minute Helena walks in.

"My 'uniform,'" Helena snips, tossing it onto the bed. She plops down next to Myka and breathes out an exasperated sigh.

Christina rushes over and digs thought the bag.

"Hmmm," Helena hums, fingering a neck string attached to Myka's sweatshirt. "This is quite fetching." Her eyes trace the hoodie's neckline, down to the fabric straining to contain Myka's chest.

"I couldn't find my shirt," Myka says, grabbing Helena's hand to stop her fiddling. "How are you so calm?"

"Would you rather I not be?" Helena says, quietly, her eyes motioning towards Christina.

"Mom, look!"

All attention swings towards Christina.

Though the situation is grim, Myka can't help but chuckle. Oversize, black-rimmed glasses sit slightly askew, covering Christina's eyes, while a long, dark wig perches precariously on her child-sized head.

"That's what's in the bag?" Myka says.

"As I said, my' uniform.' Plus 'professional' clothes. You know the sort," Helena answers. She swipes her phone from the nightstand and snaps a picture of Christina, her serious "adult" pose clashing adorably with her cat-print pajamas.

"Can you stay for breakfast?" Christina asks.

"Doubtful," Helena answers. "Might you make me something to take away while I change? Something simple, marmite on toast, perhaps?"

"Blech." Myka sticks her tongue out.

"You two can make a feast together once I'm gone."

"But I wanted to have breakfast together like we used to," Christina whines.

"And we shall, my love, when I return." Helena plucks the wig and glasses from Christina’s head and drops them in the bag.

"When will that be?"

"Tomorrow at best. Let's aim for that."

A car horn blares. Everyone flinches.

"Let's be off," Helena says, shepherding Christina out the door while extending a hand toward Myka.

*

In her absence, Helena suggested Myka and Christina follow her and Christina's usual routine. This meant a large breakfast first, one which Christina insisted on cooking, excited to show off her skills. On the menu was Crempogs, "Welsh pancakes, like American ones, not English," plus eggs over-medium with locally-sourced bacon and thickly buttered toast. It was an excellent meal, and Myka was impressed with Christina's culinary skills, but she could feel her veins clogging.

Next was their Sunday shop, which meant traveling out of the village. Myka climbed into the Rover and palmed the gearshift, pressing pedals, refreshing her memory of manual transmissions. Christina chimed in, because, of course, Helena was already teaching her the motions. She even offered to drive to the end of the driveway, but Myka politely declined.

The car started up on the first try, though it was touch and go at first, clutch grinding, chassis shaking every time she changed gears. But traffic was light, and they weren't in a hurry, so she eased into learning the machine's quirks.

"Can we have a picnic?" Christina asks, a few hours later, as they unload their groceries into the kitchen. "We usually go when the sun's out."

"Go where?"

"Different places. We could go to Mom's favorite."

"How far is it?" Myka's hard won equilibrium with the Rover was tenuous at best.

"Not that far," Christina answers, but what Myka hears is it's much farther.

Myka looks out the window. It’s an absolutely gorgeous day, full of fluffy white clouds set in a sky of technicolor blue, transforming the landscape into an undulating sea of verdant green. But there's one caveat that could thwart their plan. If it's deep in the mountains, that could be a problem.

"We shouldn't go if it's out of cell range."

"Mom can find me anywhere. I have a special phone."

"Of course you do," Myka says with a sigh. She should have known Helena's prepared Christina for anything.

*

Christina chats non-stop the entire drive as she did on their shopping trip, though the conversation then centered around cooking and food festivals. This time, it's Helena's fortifications; their "getaway" car in the shed (some sort of sportscar that "goes really fast!"), their panic room in the basement ("the door's hidden..."), and plans they've made to run if they ever felt threatened ("Mom said we'd go to a safe house. Kinda cool, like in a movie). All details an average ten-year-old would have no reason to memorize. She's both proud of Christina and concerned for her safety.

Myka pulls over as they pass the sign for Carreg Cennen and parks on the road's shoulder. They unload their picnic gear then carry it up a steep hill. It's a hike to the grounds, but one well worth it, for the scene is unlike any Myka's experienced before.

"That's quite a view," Myka says, peering cautiously over the limestone cliff, a sheer drop down to the valley, butted up against a weathered, stone wall. The castle itself is a beauteous ruin, straight out of Arthurian legend. The drama of it speaks to Helena's tastes, the extremes of height and history fitting the bill.

"It's from the fourteen-hundreds," Christina says, matter-of-factly. "Owain Glyndŵr fought for Welsh independence here. Do you know who he is?"

"I don't."

“Mom’s really good at telling the story."

"I'll ask her when she's back," Myka says, smiling at the thought, thrilled to be able to say those words and mean them. She lays a blanket down on a patch of grass, far enough away from the grazing sheep so as not to disturb them.

"Sounds like someone's proud of being Welsh," Myka says.

"I wish I was more Welsh, like Mom." Christina sets the picnic basket on the blanket and sits cross-legged next to it.

"Your grandfather was English, right? That's close."

"English, yuck," Christina says, sticking out her tongue. "I'm probably only a quarter Welsh anyway because Mom doesn't know who my dad is."

A heaviness fills Myka's chest; she opened that door, albeit accidentally, and Christina walked right through. Helena really did tell her everything and the poor girl’s had no one to confide in.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Myka asks, scooting closer and lifting the basket lid.

"I got really mad at Mom when she told me. Really mad. Like, I didn't talk to her for weeks."

"You seem pretty close now," Myka says, emphasizing the positive. She hands Christina a paper plate and a sandwich.

"I'm still mad at her sometimes." Christina looks down, plucking at the sandwich's plastic wrapping half-heartedly.

"I'm sure she understands," Myka says, setting her sandwich aside and laying a hand on Christina's shoulder. "It seems like you worked through it."

"I guess. She got really depressed, and it scared me. Then she fell off the roof, fixing the chimney and broke her ankle. I had to take care of her."

"Oh, honey." Myka circles an arm around Christina pulls her close.

"S-She was on crutches and couldn't drive. She kept working on the house even though she wasn't supposed to. And she slept on the couch because she couldn't get up the stairs. She didn't eat much. Or sleep. It was really bad." Christina sinks into Myka's embrace, burying her nose into Myka's shoulder.

Myka holds Christina tight, imagining a miserable Helena would be with her wings clipped. "She's pretty healthy now, your mom," she says, shifting the focus. "Your cooking helped. I can tell."

"How?"

"She's less skinny than she used to be."

Myka was impressed by how not emaciated Helena was as they explored each other's bodies the other night. So much so that she even commented, to which Helena replied...

"You're saying I'm fat?"

"No! Still too thin, but at least there's a little meat on your bones. I like it. It's sexy."

Helena huffed an indignant breath as Myka continued trailing kisses towards her navel. Helena's abs weren't quite pillowy, but they were less taut than when she was working construction. This meant she was eating regularly and not running herself ragged, which boded well for the future.

"You helped, too," Christina says, knocking Myka into the present.

"Me? How?"

"We missed you so much; I said we should write you letters, even if we couldn't send them. Mom wrote pages and pages and pages. And I made drawings! We both did. But she hid them, so I don't know where they are."

How many times can Myka tear up on this trip? She hugs Christina closer and sways back and forth, blinking back moisture pooling at the corner of her lids. As soon as Helena gets back, she’s getting her hands on those letters. But for now, she'll settle for spending time with this incredible little girl, hearing her stories in real time.

*

"I don't want to go," Christina says.

"I don't want to take you," Myka admits.

"Can you call in and say I'm sick?"

"I'll try. What's the number?"

It's the next morning, and Helena's not back yet, so Myka and Christina go through the motions of preparing for school. The next step involves driving the Rover or asking someone else to pick Christina up, both of which Myka would rather avoid.

"It's here," Christina says, walking over to the fridge and pointing to a list.

Myka sees police, fire, school, Sondra, Owen, plus a few other names she doesn't recognize. She dials the school, and it rings a few times, then she immediately gets put on hold.

"Bore da," a woman greets a few moments later.

"Hi, um, hello?" Myka answers.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

"I'm, um, calling in sick for Charlotte, Charlotte..." Myka looks at Christina and mouths "help me." For the life of her, can't remember Christina's fake last name.

"Llewell—"

"Llewellyn." Myka nods in thanks.

"Harry's child?"

"Yes."

"And you are?"

"Myka Bering. Harry's out of town on work. I'm taking care of her."

"Hm. You're not listed as a guardian, so that's an unexcused absence for Charlotte. And Charlotte's running the risk of…oh, hang on..."

Muffled conversation flows in the background, but Myka can't make out what's being said.

"Not to worry. Sondra'll stop by the house and confirm. She's on her way."

“Um, thanks."

"Da boch!" the woman says and ends the call.

Myka sighs. It's way too early for Sondra. But maybe Christina can handle her. "I couldn't do it, but Sondra can apparently? She's stopping by. What should we tell her?"

Christina smiles. "It'll be ok. I'll say I want to spend time with you because you're leaving."

"She'll be ok with that?"

"Yeah."

"If you say so."

As they wait, Myka makes herself a second cup of coffee and helps Christina clean up from breakfast. She combs her fingers through her hair, contemplating putting it in a bun as it's not behaving well in its semi-curly state. But it's better today than yesterday as her night with Helena left it sticking up every which way. Last night was all about sleep, with Christina in tow, snuggling up for comfort just like the old days.

Christina runs to the window as a car approaches. When her shoulders slump, Myka's sure it's Sondra, not Helena.

Myka slips on her borrowed parka and boots then steps out the door. Christina trails behind.

"Alright?" Sondra greets, eyes darting between them.

"We're ok," Myka says, placing a hand on Christina's back as she huddles near.

"Harry's off then?"

"Yeah, something in Cardiff? She said you'd know."

"Damn collector, always fiddling with things last minute. Says the money's good, but why'd she go now, while you're here? You're off soon, aren't you?"

"I'm staying until she gets back."

"Well, alright then," Sonda mumbles, but her eyes say she's not quite buying their alibi.

"Oh, but, um…that thing you asked me to do?" Myka's lips lift into crooked half-smile. "Yeah, we, um, well…we did it." At least that's a factual detail she can give freely.

"Oh, thank heavens!" Sondra gushes. "It's about bloody time—"

All eyes swing towards the sound of tires crunching over gravel. Christina runs towards a massive black SUV as it pulls to a stop. She jumps up and down, hoping to catch a glimpse of who's inside, zooming past a lithe blonde who steps out, nearly hopping into the driver's seat fully.

"Where's Mom?" Christina asks, climbing down from the running board.

"She's not here," Morgana answers, looking directly at Myka. "There's been a complication."

" Where's Mom?" Christina presses, circling around to face Morgana.

Morgana holds Christina's steady, pleading gaze but doesn't offer an answer.

"Charlotte, come here," Sondra says, eyes darting between Morgana and Christina.

Christina doesn't move.

"Charlotte!"

Christina looks over her shoulder but stays put. Sondra waves her closer, face pinching, forming a stern mom-look. Christina's shoulders sag, and she drags her heels as she ever so slowly joins her.

"She's a friend of Harry's," Myka says to Sondra.

"A 'friend,' like you?"

"No. Yes. Sort of? But that's not..." Don't go there, stay vague. "Harry trusts her."

"Oh, does she now?"

"Yes."

"Do you?"

"I do." Myka looks at Morgana and twists her lips into a weak smile to show evidence of her truthfulness.

Morgana raises a sharp brow, conveying a "we don't have time for this" urgency.

"I'll get my things—"

"I'm coming too!" Christina angles towards Myka, but Sondra grabs her shoulder and holds her back.

"You're staying here, where you're safe," Sondra says, gathering Christina closer.

"She'll be safer with us," Morgana says.

"Says the Mistress of Doom," Sondra snips.

"No, she's right," Myka agrees.

"Why should I trust her? Trust you?" Sondra glares at Myka.

"You've seen us together, Harry and I. You know Harry trusts me," Myka says.

"I want to go with Myka. Can you take care of Mr. Bubbles?" Christina asks Sondra.

"We'll bring him with us, love," Sondra says, softening her tone. "You're staying here, with us, where you can play music with Bethan whenever you like."

"I want to go with Myka."

"Please, Sondra. She'll be safe with me, I promise. I'd never let anything happen to her." Myka puts on her most convincing smile, praying to whatever god might be listening that she can keep that promise. "And if she says Charlotte should come with us," Myka says, gesturing towards Morgana, "then she should. For everyone's safety."

"I advise you take this Mr. Bubbles creature with you," Morgana says to Sondra.

"You can't take the child out of school for days," Sondra says.

"She will be safer with us," Morgana repeats, but less deadpan.

"Now you're scaring me."

"We'll call to say we're ok. We are going call and say we're ok." Myka directs the last sentence to Morgana.

"Charlotte can call," Morgana says.

"Is that good enough?" Myka asks Sondra.

Sondra looks between Myka and Morgana, then down at Christina, who is giving her the biggest puppy-dog "please" eyes, ever. "Bugger me," she says, and releases her hold.

Christina shuffles next to Myka.

"If anything happens to her…"

"She won't leave my side. I promise." Myka lays a hand on Christina's back. "Let's go pack."

"I'm already packed," Christina says. "We should take Mom's bag, too."

"Good idea. I'll pack while you grab those," Myka says.

Sondra sighs. "Rabbit duty it is, then."

Sondra, Myka, and Christina walk towards the house together.

"Maybe take the perishables in the fridge," Myka adds.

Sonda stiffens.

"Trust me. The less you know, the better," Myka says, the irony of her saying the phase not lost on her. She's on the inside now, where cryptic sentences flow like mantras. She wishes it felt better than it does.

*

"Is Mom ok?" Christina asks, leaning forward over the console, inserting herself between Myka and Morgana.

"She's safe," Morgana answers, as bluntly as ever, turning onto the main road from the driveway.

"Safe where?" Myka asks.

"With the police."

"The police?" That's not an option Myka had considered. "Why take her and not you too?"

"She was already on her way back. Someone must have tipped them off."

"Who?"

"To be determined. But very few people could have known her whereabouts. It's for the previous charge, the one she ran from, not what we just did. They're taking her back to London."

"To jail?" Christina blurts.

"No, custody. At the police station. Like last time."

"Oh." Christina's face pales. She withdraws into her seat.

"She'll be ok. We'll visit her," Myka says, shifting to face Christina.

"She can. You can't," Morgana says.

"Why?"

"Everything's been reset. We have to stick to our previous roles."

"Surely those have shifted. I was just at their house!"

"They don't know that. Nor do they need to know." Morgana glances briefly at Christina. Christina frowns and sinks further into her seat.

"It's going to be ok," Myka says, adding a small smile, one that downturns into a grimace as she turns to face front. Why does Morgana have to be such a…a...what did Sondra call her, a doomsayer? Something like that. That pretty much sums her up.

The car quiets as they drive out of the mountains and into the valleys. Myka checks on Christina from time to time, hoping to find her sprawled out asleep, but instead, her nose stays pressed to the window. Morgana's tone may be as irritating as ever, but she's thankful she's here, handling whatever this may become. But every time she glances at her, she groans internally, knowing her involvement has multiplied tenfold since she and Helena's night together.

They laid motionless, save for their chests rising and falling, breaths deep and calm, muscles so limp it was as if they'd melted together. Helena's arm draped over Myka's midriff as her head nestled into Myka's shoulder. Myka's chin rested on the crown of Helena's head, her fingers brushing lazy circles over Helena's back. After hours spent satisfying their starved libidos, their bodies were drained, but their minds remained restless due the uncertainties of what was to come.

"Tell me about Morgana," Myka asked, and at the question, Helena tensed. She was unsure why, out of everything, that question came out of her mouth. But Helena had said to ask her anything, so they might as well start there.

Helena lifted her head and placed a soft kiss on the side of Myka's breast. She then pushed away and rolled over, laying flat on her back. Myka turned and laid her head on Helena's shoulder, nuzzling her ear into the hollow beneath Helena's collarbone, getting comfortable as she awaited an answer.

“We did meet at Stanford. And we dated. Off and on. It ended badly."

"I guessed that," Myka said, the confimation sending a giddy jolt through her chest. "How did Claudia not know?"

"'Dating' may be overstating the situation. It was more a…torrid affair. Circumstances dictated it remain clandestine."

"Circumstances?"

"At the time, as an aspiring Naval officer, being romantically involved with anyone of the same gender was detrimental to her career."

"You got caught."

"Yes. And it ended immediately. Zero contact. I was devastated, though I knew it was inevitable. "

"You were in love." Myka rolled away, onto her back, her smugness fading, shifting to dismay.

"When you're young, you've no idea what love truly is." Helena turned to face Myka and laced their fingers together.

Myka's hand tightened, but not enough to elicit a reassuring press. Her jealously over a years-old affair was ridiculous, but at the moment, hard to shake. "Then you met her again, as Emily, when you started working for MacPherson?"

"No." Helena squeezes Myka's hand, then releases it, and lies flat on her back again. "She resurfaced a few years after university, requiring my computer skills and deductive reasoning. She wanted to 'wow' her new bosses at Interpol with her ability to source information. I worked for her for years, under the radar, retaining a facade as struggling single mother."

"But she broke your heart. Why would you help her?"

"Time heals some wounds. And at first, it wasn't much bother. Her choosing me flattered my ego more than anything. And raising my child remained my priority. The supplemental income was quite welcome."

"So you dug up dirt on Macpherson."

"Amongst other things—"

"Wait..." Myka turned to face Helena, propping her head up on her hand, elbow bent, excitement rushing through her veins. "You were my anonymous source for the sale!" Yet another puzzle piece fell into place.

"Yes," Helena said, shifting and mirroring Myka's pose. "You're not cross with me?"

"I'm not thrilled, but I like it was you helping me."

"Thank you," Helena said, skimming a hand up, over Myka's shoulder, threading her fingers into her hair. She brushed a thumb over Myka's ear, prompting Myka to turn and kiss her palm.

"Emily Lake, did Morgana set that up?" Myka continued, resisting Helena's attempt to sidetrack her.

"No. That was Mrs. Frederic." Helena withdrew her hand. "And I rue the day I met that woman."

"So do I," Myka said, scooting closer and gently pressing on Helena's bruised shoulder, guiding her to lie flat again. She then laid her head on Helena's upper arm and slid her hand across Helena's stomach. "How did you meet her?"

Helena circled her arm, the one Myka's head was resting on, around Myka's shoulders, and hugged her close. "Upon our move to New York, I wanted out, a fresh slate. Morgana understood and set the wheels in motion. So it was quite a shock when Mrs. Federic showed up at my doorstep, unannounced. I knew of the woman but had never met her in person."

"I've heard she does that."

"She'd been watching me, assessing my worth as it related to her needs. She made me an offer I couldn't refuse. That's when I assumed Emily's identity."

Though it was too dark to see clearly, Myka lifted her head to look Helena directly in the eye. "What could she possibly have offered that was worth what you went through?"

"She'd free my trust fund."

"You said that was impossible!"

"She was remarkably convincing. All I could think of was Christina's future."

"I bet that pissed Morgana off."

"Indeed. She warned me against it, strongly. But Mrs. Frederic, as you're well aware, does not take 'no' for an answer lightly. Once I was in, there was no turning back. The longer I worked for her, the more demanding she became. I tried leave while I was with Giselle, but then MacPherson began his appeal. Mrs. Frederic threatened to blackmail me if I didn't do her bidding to keep him locked away."

"And then you got deported," Myka said, pushing away until she was no longer touching Helena. Why did the puzzle pieces need to be so hurtful? "Everything I did, everything Claudia did, Giselle did to help you…all of it for show. You wanted to get deported."

"It was the only way out."

"Morgana should have helped you."

"She couldn't risk blowing her cover. And she's risking everything by helping us now."

"Why is she helping us?" Helena's sharp tone kicked Myka's frustration up a notch. If the stakes were that high, why would Morgana risk all now? Blowing her cover meant a disastrous end to her career, all those years of hard work voided in an instant.

"To kill two birds with one stone. Contain Mrs. Frederic, while keeping MacPherson in jail. It was irresistible."

"Are you sure it wasn't you that was irresistible?"

"Myka..."

"Were you ever together again at some point?"

Helena breathed a heavy sigh, one laden with years untold baggage. "When she first approached me, yes, I admit, there were moments. That's all. Just like previously, there could never be more. Nor would I wish there to be. Could you imagine her with Christina?"

"No." Myka laughed once, more out of nerves than absurdity. "But your show in the police station was really convincing."

"Drawing upon ancient history, my love." Helena cupped Myka's cheek and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. "You are my present, my future, my everything." Her next kiss lingered, then deepened, a wordless apology for the hard truths Myka just endured.

"Stop giving me that look," Morgana groans.

"What look?"

"Like I ran over your puppy or something. Whatever it is, just ask."

Myka grimaces then looks over her shoulder at Christina. "You ok back there?"

"Fine," Christina replies.

"Why don't you try to sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"Let us know if you need to make a pit stop. Because we will," Myka grumbles at Morgana.

"If we must," Morgana mumbles back.

"Let us know," Myka repeats to Christina.

"Ok." Christina returns to staring out the window.

"What's so special about this painting?" Myka asks, settling on that rather than dredging up Morgana and Helena's past. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

Morgana glances at Christina. "I don't think—"

"She already knows. Way more than me."

"I do," Christina chimes in, her voice sounding much older than all of her ten years.

Morgana frowns, though the downturn of her lips is only slightly deeper than her usual resting face. "Do you know what it is?" Morgana asks Myka.

"I don't. Just that damn reference number. And I know the version Helena got caught with was a fake."

"If the police ask, you don't know that. Neither of you do." Morgana glances in the rearview mirror at Christina.

"I know," Christina says, her annoyance ringing clear. It's probably been drummed into her repeatedly.

"As you're well aware, one of MacPherson's specialties is in trading art looted by the Nazis," Morgana starts. "You witnessed this firsthand with the sale of the Amber Room. And as more families come forward, listing pieces missing from their ancestral collections, MacPherson grabs what he can and sells it for maximum profit, profit from anyone. But the highest bidders are often those that revel in keeping other's collections incomplete for entirely unethical reasons."

"So legally the painting should go back to its rightful owner. Mrs. Frederic knew that, but sold it to MacPherson instead?"

"Apparently, she's been dangling it in front of him for years. If he's caught with it, it could easily bring his operation to a halt permanently. And potentially expose a larger ring of others involved. Mrs. Frederic was waiting for the opportune time once she had a plan in place to bring him down."

"And we messed that up. So she's following through now because..."

"She's still under investigation. She'd be ruined if it's proved she was involved with the painting. She's close friends with the rightful owner's heirs and has been 'searching' for the painting for years."

“But she is involved. I was working for her!"

"She claims she barely knew you. That you were freelance, Vanessa's hire. She was doing Vanessa a favor by using her name to get you into the sale."

"She dragged Vanessa into this?" Myka frowns, deeply.

"Vanessa didn't mention it?"

"I haven't heard from her in months."

"Not surprising."

"Why haven't the police questioned me more?"

"They think you're being duped. None of your correspondence can be traced back to Mrs. Frederic or anyone else at the moment."

"But the calls, the emails, my commission!"

"None of it leads to Mrs. Frederic directly. Like your anonymous source of information."

"Even Claudia couldn't trace that. They can't know it was Helena."

"Mrs. Frederic may have leaked that already."

Myka's stomach rolls. She swallows back a bout of nausea. How can Helena dig herself out of this hole? "Do the police know the painting's fake?"

"As far as I know, no."

"If they find out, will that help her?"

"Not necessarily. They're aiming to root out Helena's source. They know she couldn't orchestrate this on her own."

"Great," Myka mumbles. This could go on forever. "Why the fake at all?"

“That was McPherson's stipulation. You getting caught would occupy the authorities while I passed off the real one. Remember, Helena wasn't meant be involved at all."

Myka mulls this over as Morgana pulls onto an entrance ramp, then merges onto a larger motorway.

"Why arrest Helena now? Why not just grab you and her, pass off the real painting and move on? And why drag me into it again?"

Morgana weaves effortlessly between tiny cars, navigating a three-lane roundabout. Driving in a circle on what on feels like the wrong side of the road causes Myka's nausea to rise again.

"Our working theory is Mrs. Frederic engineered this to implicate you as a coconspirator. That they must have found enough evidence to weigh her down. She needs a hard reset to exonerate herself."

"That's…" Myka's chest tightens, her breath huffing out in shallow waves. This is meant to be winding down, not spinning up again. She's not ready to be put back in the ring. "No one would believe Vanessa was behind a deal that big. Plus, she barely works with antiquities in Europe."

"Not Vanessa."

"Then who?"

"Who might you have had dealings with that had status and interests on par with Mrs. Frederic?"

"I don't know," Myka answers, flippantly. That was a lifetime ago, one that she worked hard to put behind her because she was told to.

"Does Milan ring a bell?"

Myka's eyes go wide. Theodora Stanton. "Oh. Oh, no.”

-TBC-

[too-strange-for-earth]

Memories (3/?)

Parings: steve Harrington x reader, Jim hopper x daughter! reader, nancy wheeler x platonic! reader, Jonathon Byers x platonic! reader. (Future Billy Hargrove x reader)

Masterlist

Prompt list

(1)-(2)-(4)-(5)-(6)

(Y/n): your name

(Y/m/n): your middle name

(Y/e/c): your eye color

(Y/h/c): your hair color

tags: @bandsandanimefreak @fortheloveoflamp @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @daddyuwuss

warnings: language, bad writing, angst, fluff.

a/n: this was a bitch to type, I injured pinkie finger and it hurts to type. so, sorry if its a bit rushed and all over the place. I'm just trying to tie loose ends.

--

It was a normal morning some would say. Jim woke up in a cold sweat with a hangover that felt as if a boulder landed on him, Steve was passed out on the couch holding his deceased girlfriend's shirt while the family videos played and Eleven at Mikes still discussing their plan to find (y/n). 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHES ALIVE?! IF SHE WAS ALIVE I WOULD KNOW IT BY NOW! CAUSE STEVEN HARRINGTON CANT KEEP HIS DAMN MOUTH SHUT!” Dustin screamed throwing the board game on the floor, Max emidiatly hushed him. El was sitting around the table with her friends as the DnD board was on the floor, it was odd. Mike was trying to think about how it was possible, Will was trying to calm Dustin down from his outburst. 

“Will? Did you see her at all?” Lucas looked up finally removing his hands from his face. “N-No not at all. I didn't feel him near.” Will stammered. He felt guilty keeping this from his brother, what if she really was alive? 

--

Jim went to work angry, tired, and in need of a cigarette. There was no music on the drive there, and he just found out that he drank all the beer last night trying to figure out how this is possible.

“Wow, Jim. Who peed in your oatmeal this morning” one of the cops snickered as he sat down at his desk. He let out a long sigh, took off his hat, and started to go through any and all paperwork that dealt with Starcourt Mall and the Russians last year. 

He heard a knock on the door and saw Florence with a cup of water and an aspirin.  “thanks.” the cop mumbled as she set the two items down and sat across from him. “Jim, I haven't seen you this distraught since the Byers kid went missing. What's going on?” the woman asked with worry in her eyes. 

“It's about (Y/N) a few people around town are saying they saw her. I have to find out if it's true or some cruel joke. I swear if it’s some cruel joke I’m going to make those fuckers wish they didn’t come up with the idea.” Jim growled out, holding back tears as he glanced at the picture frame of his family. “If it helps any, you might want to talk to Joyce about this. The girl would do anything for you.” Florence smiled as she left the dark room, wishing for her friend to feel better.

Three hours later he finally found something. Three hours to find out there was a call about a lost girl. Three hours to go by some random strangers eyes from the town over. It wasn't a lot, and it probably wasn’t her, but if there was a chance that his daughter was alive he will try to find out.  “I'm taking the day off,” Hopper said leaving the building. 

--

Steve woke up crying, he thought that the events from yesterday were just a bad dream. He couldn't take it anymore he has to do something about this, he has to find her. He got into the car and drove to the Wheelers residence, it was a long shot trying to talk to Nancy, but if he knew El (and he practically knew everything at this point) she would be with MIke. 

Before he could even ring the doorbell Nancy opened the front door. “Steve?! What the hell are you doing here?!” she exclaimed. Ever since (Y/n) left the two didn't speak unless forced to; it wasn't that they hated each other. It was more like they couldn't look at each other without being reminded of her. “Is Mike here,” Steve said as Nancy moved out of the way to let him in.

“uhh yeah, he’s in the basement. Why?” She was more confused than ever. If Steve is here to talk to Mike then that meant two things, El was in trouble with Hopper or that the Demogorgon was back; and she was really hoping it wasn't the latter. “DnD business Nance.” Steve didn't technically lie, but it also wasn't the truth. “okay?” she didn't bother to ask about it any further. When steve became short with his answers she knew that there was no chance to get anything out of him. When she turned back to the door she saw the flash of (y/n)’s (y/e/c) eyes. “Shit”

--

He ran down the stairs, keys still in hand, to see the party including Robin sitting on the floor in deep thought. “So I'm guessing El told you.” Everyone jumped hearing his voice. “what the fuck man! You didn't bother to radio it in?!” Dustin ran over to the young adult. (Y/N) was like an older sister to the teenagers, always there to give advice, watch a movie, or even rant or cry on her shoulder. But she had an especially close bond with Dustin, Mike, Will, and El.

“And let whoever listen in? ‘Oh yeah, guess what guys! My dead girlfriend isn't dead after all! No, in fact, she's in Hawkins and I think I'm going crazy and her Dad is mad at me cause I probably pulled her into this fucking mess!’ NO! I'm not going to do that Dustin!” Steve all but calmy said running a hand through his already tousled hair. everyone stopped moving and started to look behind Steve. “What is it now,” Steve exclaimed turning around. 

Everything went silent, all breathing stopped. Steve couldn't believe it, he dropped his keys and walked cautiously towards the stairs. “(Y/N)?”

--

Hopper arrived at Joyce's house to see the door open. He put his hand over his gun and walked forward. “Joyce?” He asked as he stepped through the door, everything was still in place except for Wills drawings all over the table. “In here Jim!” a sigh of relief left his lips as he walked towards her room to see her on the phone. 

“yeah... okay thanks, Nancy.” Joyce hung up the phone and looked at Hopper, his eyes full of worry as she waled to him. “She's alive, and at Mikes.” Hopper let out a shaky laugh and pulled the woman into a hug. “I knew it, Joyce. I fucking knew it.” They stayed like that for a good five minutes until they decided to go to Mikes and Nancy's. 

Usually, it would take ten to fifteen minutes to the Wheelers, but Hopper wasn't going to waste another minute away from his daughter. One year too long.

--

Five minutes. That is how long it took for hugs to be passed around and for Hopper to bust down the door and run to the basement. “(Y/N) (Y/M/N) HOPPER! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! ONE YEAR (Y/N) (Y/M/N)! ONE LONG FUCKING YEAR!” It wasn’t a shock to hear Hopper yell, but the fact that he used her middle name made it otherwise.

He noticed a few new scars over her body, some cuts on her face, as well as some bruises here and there. She didn’t deserve any of this, she didn’t do anything wrong to be harmed.

“You’re telling me” she smiled softly, looking at her father. He opened his arms as she crashed into him. A hug well needed and well deserved. Everyone ignored the fact that if she were alive than something might be alive as well.

(Part 4)

[fountainpenguin]

Do you have any more information on the "Aspen incident" that's been mentioned in a few of your pixie fics? I'm kinda curious to find out what exactly happened but when I search the name Aspen on your blog nothing comes up

Ooh, Aspen’s fun. I worked it out and you technically have all the information you need to answer that question, but it’s all scattered across different pieces because you’re not supposed to know yet. We don’t get to Aspen’s plot for a long time.

I will not give the answer directly, but I will help you out by collecting some hints in this post. Aspen is someone who was associated with some pixies in an ambiguous pre-series time period. He is not alive yet in Origin or Knots, but we will see him towards the end (in both stories). Here are some things Sanderson mentioned about him in Prompt 14, “Minion”- 

1)

“I haven’t been forced from a gyne since the incident with Aspen.”

2)

“Our arrangement would only be temporary. But then again, so is my arrangement with the Head Pixie.”

As I stripped away my shirt, I tried to remember who had planted such treacherous thoughts in my head. Were they all mine, or were they what was left of Aspen’s influence, acting up now that I was here in the Pink Castle again, the very place where I had come to know him so well? It seemed like Aspen would have been in understandable favor of Longwood over any other figure…

Here is what Longwood had to say about him in Pink and Gray:

1)

“Dear dust,” he says, “I’m obsessed.”

“With yourself?”

“With children.”

Rosencrantz doesn’t know how to respond to this. Rosencrantz is pretty sure Longwood has confessed to something illegal.

“Not like that,” Longwood clarifies, always one step ahead of the younger pixie and gleaning his thoughts. With a thought and a twitch of the ballpoint pen he uses as a wand, he pings a small picture into his free hand. The frame is dented, the glass shattered long ago. It’s not even a real photograph–only a crayon drawing. A child’s crayon drawing. Longwood hunkers into the chair anyway, caressing the picture with his eyes while holding the shaking chocolate mug to his mouth. He says, “I’m obsessed with that–that shadowman you used to call a mentor.”

“Sanderson?” Rosencrantz presses him cautiously. […]

“I saved his life, Rosebud. You wouldn’t remember. It was long ago. Centuries before you were born, I traded the one I held most dear to save that snotlick’s life, and I pine after him even now. You didn’t know Aspen. But I did. I had the chance. I could have chosen to save what I wanted most. What does that make me feel?”

2)

At this, Longwood bends his head, his wings jolting every few beats. He sinks a little closer to the sidewalk. “H.P., I–You owe me for Aspen.”

“I owe you for what you chose to do to Aspen?”

Longwood looks away. It’s an insult. He shouldn’t have asked.

“Sir, it wasn’t a choice. I had to. It was his fate. If I'd–If I’d tried to protect Aspen, Sanderson would have died. And…”

This pause is tenser.

“And that’s your fault. Isn’t it, sir?”

[…]

Longwood’s fists grow tighter, not looser. He does not raise his head. “I let go of Aspen for you, H.P.”

“Pretend that Sanderson is Aspen, and start enjoying his company,” the Head Pixie says. Stepping off the sidewalk, he circles Longwood and continues on his way.

“Sir,” he says, whisking after his boss, “please.”

“What’s the issue? Sanderson and Aspen have a lot in common. They both enjoy cheese and crackers. They both play with their food.”

Now it’s insulting. “Sir–”

“They favor gingertie wands. They do enjoy their music.”

“Please–”

“And this one’s a gimme, but you know how fond they both are of water.”

“Stop it!”

Longwood isn’t aware that his own ipewood wand is out of its sheath until it’s pointed at the back of his boss’s head. H.P. slows. He turns, the metal star on the dangling tail of his hat ringing out in the silent night like a bell on a bobtail. He’s amused, not upset. When his eyes glint, they seem to cast a sheen across his glasses as a whole. Longwood suddenly realizes his mistake, and jerks his hand down.

“Sir, I–I didn’t mean to–” He grabs for his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Ní larki… Please don’t make jokes about water at Aspen’s expense, sir. He gets night terrors. Calming him down is embarrassing. And if Sanderson ever knew Aspen was still…”

3)

“I liked your singing,” Betty told him. “You sing very well.”

Longwood glanced over at her, pulling Kenny’s blankets up to his shoulder. “Thank you for your response. I wasn’t sure I would. It’s been centuries since I’ve sung to a child.” He picked a large plush shark up from the nightstand and tucked it under Kenny’s arm. Kenny snuggled up to it and instantly went right back to sleep.

“Do you have kids?” She hoped he’d say yes. She hadn’t seen any pixie kids yet. True, Sanderson said she and Gary couldn’t live in Pixie World forever or else they’d run out of air to breathe, but Betty hoped they’d visit enough that she could make friends with some pixie kids. Did her Earth friends think she was dead? H.P. had made it sound like they did, or would soon enough. She couldn’t go back to Kansas. No more friends. No more family. No more horses. No more softball. No more school. Betty was trying not to think about that.

“I… had a kid, yes,” Longwood said. “He’s gone.”

“Where does he live now?”

Longwood looked at her more seriously. “I mean, he’s gone. He isn’t ever coming back.”

“Oh. That kind of gone.” Betty looked again at the shark he’d given Kenny. “So is that a dead person’s toy?”

“Aspen’s not dead,” Longwood snapped, and Betty jumped at the shoulders. He inhaled through his teeth. “My apologies for startling you, but I always have to express my disagreement when people state that. Aspen isn’t entirely dead. He’s still in there. I can recognize tells of it sometimes. He’s just… not as alive as he could be.” He scratched his wrist, long nails scraping his skin. “I’m sorry. Aspen was my baby. I know it was highly unprofessional of me, but I grew attached to him.”

Kenny stirred in the bed, but didn’t get up. “I’d be so sad if anything happened to Kenny,” Betty murmured. “I’m sorry. Did someone kidnap Aspen? Or did he run away?”

“No. No, he didn’t run!” Longwood’s throat briefly strangled his voice. “He was so trusting. Sanderson cornered him, and he didn’t even–think–when I saw–No.” He shook his head. “No. You would need a full lesson in Fairykind anatomy to understand exactly what happened, Ms. Betty. It’s black magic stuff. I’m sorry. Anything involving Aspen is very difficult for me to discuss, and I would prefer not to breach the subject with a child I just met, you realize.”

(Note - Black magic is performed by doctors. It’s surgery magic.)

That’s all you “officially” know right now, but you’re about to get some really juicy stuff in Origin.

Solve For Aspen

More hints about Aspen’s identity and what’s coming in Origin of the Pixies:

- Technically you’ve already met “Aspen,” but he does not use this name in public. You’ve seen him in a lot of Prompts and some other stories, but not yet in Origin or Knots.

- The life-giving organ in Fae is called the core. It is left behind when a Fae dies (Think about Anti-Cosmo finding Fairy cores on the road in “Tangled Threads”). A firstborn’s core is different from the core of a second-born (It has extra layers of magic around it). Pixies are infected with the bacteria Wolbachia pipientis, meaning they are genetically identical; Sanderson, being H.P.’s firstborn, has a firstborn core.

- Cores take on shapes specific to the individual (For instance, H.P.’s is a laser cannon, Wanda’s is a radar, and Sanderson’s is a pencil sharpener).

- Longwood was born in the Year of Leaves on the Fae zodiac. Aspen was not. So why is Aspen named after a tree?

- Think about what Finley has around his neck. We see him wearing it as an adult in “All I Ever Wanted” but not as a kid in “Evolution Hopeful” or “This Is a Box.” What could it be and why would he start wearing this thing at that age? Why Finley? What’s different about his life compared to all the other pixies?

- Sanderson and Longwood got in an argument during the “Grooming” Prompt. What exact words does Sanderson use in this scene? Why do they affect Longwood so strongly and why does Sanderson feel guilty?

- Where was Sanderson in “Minion” when he started thinking about Aspen? What unique qualities do we know this location has?

- Think about some settings we’ve visited in Origin of the Pixies that explicitly have special qualities. I foreshadowed a location in Chapter 3 (“Love Struck Out”). It comes up again later. Why did H.P. go out of his way to visit in that later chapter and what did he want to do? Why did I think it was important enough to foreshadow?

HINT: It’s near the beginning because it’s also near the end

- Try to remember if there’s a Prompt that struck you as really, really odd… Something that described special location qualities.

- In that Prompt, there were four people who could sense something. One of them showed up late and did not volunteer the same information as the other three. Who was it and what can we not confirm because they stayed silent? What could be happening off-screen during that odd Prompt?

- Sanderson flinched when the Fairy Elder went to touch him in “Minion.” Look at that encounter and focus on what he’s saying. What does he look at and what do you know about that thing?

HINT: Cross-reference with what Anti-Cosmo says about the Fairy Elder in the Frayed Knots chapter “If She Hollers.” Take his words literally.

- Knowing what you know about Pixies and the Fairy Elder, what would you guess triggered the plot in the “really, really odd” Prompt mentioned above?

HINT: Sanderson uses a certain phrase in “Grooming” that also appears in the odd Prompt. What does he describe with that phrase?

- Just before H.P. and Sanderson meet the Fairy Elder in “Minion,” H.P. names a specific location. What is this location and why would I want you, the reader, to know that it’s there?

HINT: Who can get to it?

HINT 2: Don’t overthink it. What is this place literally called?

HINT 3: In several ‘fics, we see special magic keys. Where do you think such keys go and what is the significance of having keys made of different materials?

HINT 4: Why do Fairies not have “perfect memories?” Why do Anti-Fairies supposedly have perfect memories? Why would Fairies not want Anti-Fairies to know about and use these keys?

HINT 5: We will see keys in the 130 Prompt “Repeat.” What material are these keys and where do they come from?

- We now have a person, two places, and some items (and technically a time). How might this information change the way you read Origin?

- Longwood says only one thing in the Origin chapter “Snowflake.” What does he say? Why was Longwood mentioned in the previous chapter (“How to Yoo-Doo”)? Why do these details conflict? What conclusions can be drawn?

- In Origin’s Act 2 finale, “Fruitful Fruition,” H.P. and Sanderson have a conversation where H.P. makes verbatim reference to a quote in a Season 4 episode. What is the context of his talk with Sanderson? What can I do in a backstory ‘fic that sets us up for that episode?

HINT: It’s not a Pixie episode

HINT 2: The quote is VERY specific to that episode and the episode specifically draws attention to it

HINT 3: There is a detail about Sanderson that is easy to forget, so I brought it up earlier in this post. I specifically designed this part of Sanderson in reference to that episode

HINT 4: What was the context of the original quote in the episode? Above all else, the full quote and the context behind it is what Origin of the Pixies is about.

- Four books were recently stolen from the Pink Castle library. Judging by their titles, what information would you guess is in them? (The titles were named in “The Facts of Life” and “What Karma Is”)

- Why could no one solve the crime?

- Take your new information and read “Grooming” again. What does Longwood do at night? Does this remind you of another thing that happens at night? 

HINT: Something referenced in this post

If you can answer all of the above, you should know who took the books, why they took them, what Longwood’s relationship to Aspen is, why Aspen is gone, and why Longwood believes Aspen is alive. Review the quoted text in the first half of this post and maybe you’ll realize why Longwood’s relationship with Sanderson is so complex.

That’s Aspen.

You can send asks here on Tumblr or PM me on FFN/AO3 if you want to share your thoughts, which I’m happy to talk to you about… or you can quietly watch it unfold. Up to you!

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Twenty-Three - Quigley goes on the Lam

They planned out their route as soon as Quigley had stopped crying. When he calmed down, Inky returned and led Beatrice to Monty’s chocolate stash, which she quickly gave to Quigley when they went down to the eerily empty Reptile Room. Beatrice spread out the map Quigley had previously marked on the table, placing a few lamps on either end to keep it open, and then she traced multiple possible paths to Prufrock. She had a very distinct frown when she was concentrating, one that Klaus and Sunny also shared. Bertrand watched her carefully, occasionally glancing at the chair Quigley had curled up in, though the boy also peered over, watching Beatrice mess with the map with a sort of fascination. 

“I think our quickest route, assuming the children are at Prufrock- it should only take them a day or two by bus to get there from Paltryville, where we assume they were last, and it took us about a week to get here, so they should be at the school already. Considering how much gas is left in the car, we should have about two days straight before it gives out, so Quigley can stay in the backseat and we can switch who’s driving. We’ll abandon the car instead of filling up on gas- people will notice the stolen car. After that it’s a week’s walk to the school, but we can cut that time in half if we use public transportation to hit this city, this city, and this one. It may take longer depending on if we can find a place to sleep or if we have to walk all night, and if Olaf catches up to us, we’ll take two days to divert him by traveling in this direction. It’s not a short trip by any means, but it’s the fastest way to our children.” 

“Sounds good.” Bertrand nodded. 

“Wow.” Quigley said. “You know the city layout that well? Public transportation isn’t even marked on this one.” 

“Well, you learn a thing or two after being raised in a cult and then stuck on the run for fifteen years.” Beatrice smirked. “Quigley, pack as much food as you can so we don’t have to stop for it on our drive. Bertrand, let’s find new bags to store supplies in, there should be some around here somewhere. Then we head out.” 

Quigley met them outside, tilting his head curiously as the adults did their best to hug a snake. Inky gave them cuddles with its head, then hissed and slithered away. 

“What’s that about?” he asked, moving over. 

Beatrice smiled sadly. “Inky has somewhere it wants to be, so it’s going to catch up to us later.” 

“It’ll find us. That is a smart baby eldritch horror.” Bertrand said. 

“Well, I got the snac- sorry, baby what?” 

“You got the food?” Beatrice asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Quigley shrugged and slid open his bag, rifling through it. “Almond bags, granola bars, whatever was still nonperishable in the house basically. And then I shoved all the water bottles that could fit.” 

“Good thinking.” Beatrice said. 

“I got some books, too!” Quigley added, showing them a stack he had under his arm. “For the ride. I can read them out loud if you guys want, to keep us entertained. I used to do that on roadtrips with my siblings.” 

“Thank you, Quigley, but that’ll just tire you out.” Bertrand smiled, taking some books from him so he could swing his bag back over his shoulder. “We can explain some things to you on the drive. VFD, the Snickets-” 

“Our kids.” Beatrice added. “And you can tell us about your family.” 

“Yeah.” Quigley paused, and then smiled. “I’m seeing my siblings again!” 

“Hell yeah you are!” Beatrice said, holding up a hand for a high-five, an opportunity Quigley quickly took. “Let’s get in the car.” 

Quigley smiled and ran to the backdoor, jumping in and dropping his bag on the ground beside him. He hesitated, though, as Beatrice and Bertrand got in the front seat, his hand hovering over the door handle. 

“You guys are safe, right? You’re not gonna kidnap me?” 

Beatrice and Bertrand shared an incredulous look, and Bertrand said, “You only thought to ask this now?” 

“Father used to say I have the opposite of trust issues. I trust a lot.” 

“Ah.” Bertrand sighed, then turned back. “No, we won’t kidnap you. In fact, soon as we find your siblings, we are finding you a safe, permanent place to live away from all this bullshit.” 

“Promise?” 

As Beatrice started the car, Bertrand leaned his hand back and took Quigley’s, shaking it slightly. “Promise, kid.” 

“Good.” Quigley shut the door, and then said, “I suspected you were trustworthy, anyway. You’re very well-read.” 

“Oh, God.” 

The first day of driving, Quigley was mostly quiet. He pulled out a purple commonplace book to take notes in, only now and again asking a question while they talked. Every so often he’d throw in a trick question to try and figure out if they were lying, but thankfully they were pretty honest with him, so he relaxed quite a bit. He ended up passing out a few hours into the drive, apparently not having done much sleeping the last few days. Beatrice and Bertrand parked every few hours to swap who was driving and who was sleeping, and once Quigley fell asleep, they kinda stopped chatting. Not much to talk about. Not anything that wouldn’t make them feel worse. 

When Quigley awoke, they pulled over at a gym to freshen up, and then took off again. Quigley started talking, then. About his siblings. It sounded like Klaus would be good friends with Duncan, you said he was into research? Duncan’s an aspiring journalist, he’s amazing. He’d love Isadora, too, she’s really into poetry. They could talk about that together. 

When he talked about his parents, his voice fell, and he curled up a little, muttering about how they used to travel a lot- now he understood it was VFD, and now he wasn’t sure if he liked that- but when they were home they spent all their time with their children. 

“They were… great.” Quigley muttered, trying not to cry. 

After a pause, Beatrice, who wasn’t driving, turned and put her hand over Quigley’s. “You must miss them very much.” 

“Yeah.” Quigley nodded, and he shook slightly. Jacques hadn’t said that to him, hadn’t mentioned his parents after saying he knew them. “Did you… know them well?” 

“Only a little, I’ll admit.” Beatrice said. “We saw each other in class. Went on a couple missions. But… I know they were good people, Quigley. Wonderful people. And…” she patted his hand again. “We’re honored to help their children any way we can.” 

Quigley smiled. “What… what did you guys do?” 

“Once we went to Paltryville, we were in a large group.” she said. “We nearly burnt the town down but we stopped the fire so technically we were the heroes in that situation.” 

“I got hypnotized.” Bertrand said. 

“Hypnosis?” Quigley bounced slightly, leaning forwards. “You didn’t tell me that! What’s it like?” 

Beatrice shot Bertrand a concerned glance, and he sighed as he turned a bend in the road. “Wish I could tell you. But you’re kinda… amnesiac during it.” 

“Wow.” Quigley said, fascinated.  

Beatrice smiled, bit her lip, and said, “Your Mother trained crows, right?” 

“Carrier birds. She loved them.” Quigley smiled. “We all kinda absorbed the basics just by listening to her.” 

“Did we tell you I trained bats?” 

“No!” Quigley bounced again, pulling out his commonplace book and flipping to a new page. “How different is it from birds?” 

“Well, they sleep in the day, usually.” Beatrice said. “They’re nocturnal.” 

“So were you when you were younger.” Bertrand said. 

Beatrice laughed and punched him on the shoulder. 

When they ran out of gas on the second day, night was already starting to fall. They managed to ditch the car at the edge of a town, and Beatrice helped Quigley shoulder his bag before they made their way through, passing building after building. Finally they found a hotel, and Bertrand went in while Beatrice and Quigley waited outside. When he came out, Quigley said, “Did you get a room?” 

“No, of course not, we don’t have cash.” Bertrand said. “But I managed to scope out which rooms are empty. We’re gonna break into one of those, come on.” 

Quigley jumped, and then stuttered, “Um- okay?” 

“Higher floor is less likely to get sold late at night.” Beatrice said. “We can climb in through a window.” 

“Um-” Quigley began. 

“Room 315.” Bertrand said. “Quigley, get in there and make it to the stairwell, wait outside 315 until we open the door. Don’t go with anyone else.” 

Quigley nodded. “What if you get caught?” 

Beatrice and Bertrand shared a sad look, and then she said, “We won’t. Go on in.” 

Quigley nodded, quickly scampering into the building. He kept his head low, trying to remain unnoticed by the other people milling about the lobby. He found the stairs quick and raced up, playing with his hair to calm his nerves- it had gotten a bit longer than he normally kept it, but he was fine with that. He actually kinda liked it. Now he could see why Isadora was so excited to have longer hair instead of matching her brothers. It was fun. 

He made it to the third floor and pushed the stairwell door open, cautiously creeping down the hall, jumping when he heard noises from other rooms. His mind drifted to the idea of them getting caught, of people grabbing and shouting at them that they shouldn’t be here, getting handed over to the police… 

He stopped outside of Room 315 and started playing with his hair again. That would distract him, at least. The soothing, swishing feeling… it was so nice. God, he needed to grow it out a bit more. Maybe to the shoulders. That’d be nice without getting distracting. If it was too long it’d fall in his face and he wasn’t sure how he’d keep it out. 

He jumped as the door in front of him started to rattle, and stepped back as it swung open. Bertrand smiled down at him, put a finger to his mouth, and then gestured for him to come in. Quigley beamed and skipped in, watching as Beatrice shut the window, tossing her hair back like it was no big deal. 

“Can you show me how to do that?” Quigley asked, as soon as Bertrand shut the door. 

“When we have the time, yeah.” Beatrice nodded. “We’ll sleep here and set out in the morning. We’ve got a long walk but if we can get to the bus station by tomorrow night we can sleep as it drives.” 

“I’m good at walking. We’ll be fine.” Quigley said. He moved to a bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress. 

“Will you be alright?” Bertrand asked. He dimmed the lights some more, as Beatrice sat by the window to start their first watch. 

“Sure.” Quigley said. He hesitated, and then said, “Just wake me up in an hour or so, I can keep watch.” 

“Oh, honey, no.” Beatrice shook her head, smiling. “We’re used to this. You get your sleep, okay?” 

“But I’m on the run with you now.” 

“No,” Bertrand said quickly, “We’re just getting you to your siblings. You go to sleep, okay? Get some rest.” 

“I want to help.” 

“You can help by getting rest. We’ve got a long walk.” Bertrand reminded him, sitting on the other bed and smiling at him. “Goodnight, kid.” 

“...okay.” 

Quigley ended up crawling into bed, but after several minutes of laying there, he found he wasn’t able to calm down enough to rest. His head felt a bit bleary- that feeling when you’re tired but still can’t sleep. That was normal, right? 

So he rolled over and said, “I can’t sleep. Can’t I just… stay up with you guys?” 

Bertrand and Beatrice sighed, and Bertrand moved over to Quigley, sitting beside his bed. “What do you normally do to fall asleep?” 

Quigley shrugged. “Nothing, really. I don’t sleep a lot.” 

“Insomnia?” 

“I think so, yeah.” 

Bertrand smiled and glanced over at Beatrice, who nodded at him, before turning back. “When my kids were younger, I’d just recite poetry when they were too nervous to go to sleep.” 

Quigley frowned at him. “Yeah but I’m thirteen, I’m not a baby.” 

“It might help. Sometimes it’s easier to fall asleep with something in the background- music, recitation, calming noises, that stuff.”

“We don’t have music,” Beatrice said, hugging her knees and smiling, “But we do have my husband and his wonderful extensive knowledge of John Godfrey Saxe.” 

Quigley hesitated. “Sometimes Isadora would read poetry til we passed out. I guess it might work. If you’re okay with it.” 

“Sure.” Bertrand laughed. “My kids think it’s embarrassing so I usually just do it with Sunny. What do you know about John Godfrey Saxe?” 

“A bit, from Isadora.” Quigley said, before grabbing a pillow and hugging it. “She’s a poet like you, I think I mentioned?” 

“Yeah.” Bertrand nodded. “I can’t wait to meet her. We’ll talk your ears off.” 

“I can’t wait.” 

Bertrand smiled, and then sat against the dresser, resting his arm on his knee. “Well, The Blind Men and the Elephant. And you try to sleep, okay?” 

“I’ll do my best.” 

Bertrand looked over to Beatrice, who just beamed at him and waited. 

“It was six men of Indoostan, To learning much inclined, Who went to see the Elephant (Though all of them were blind), That each by observation Might satisfy his mind.” 

Despite his insomnia, Quigley was asleep by the final verse, exhaustion pulling him again. Bertrand stood up, making sure to tuck the boy in and ensure he was actually sleeping and not just pretending. He smiled and said, “That always worked on Klaus.” 

“And my singing worked on Violet.” Beatrice sighed. “We’ll try that with him next, I guess.” 

Bertrand sat on the other bed, glancing cautiously at his wife. “Should we have even taken him with us?” 

Beatrice didn’t meet his eye. “If we didn’t, he’d either be abandoned in that house or taken to VFD. Either way, he’d be fucked.” 

“If Olaf catches up to us-” 

“He won’t.” 

Bertrand sighed and moved to sit beside his wife on the windowsill. He reached over and took her hand, and played with her fingers for a bit. She smiled and relaxed against the wall, leaning her head on her shoulder. 

“If he does,” Bertrand said seriously, “We’ll have him run. Pretend he doesn’t know us.” 

“Pretend we don’t know him. So Olaf has no interest.” 

“That way at least he won’t be…” 

They were silent again. Then Bertrand hesitantly pulled his wife’s sleeve back and ran his hand over a dark bruise. Beatrice didn’t move, but she did shiver slightly. 

“I never thought he-” 

“There’s a lot we never thought he could do.” Beatrice whispered. “A lot we never thought we could do.” 

Bertrand moved his hand back to hers, and squeezed it. “Bea… it still doesn’t give him the right to-” 

“I know.” 

Bertrand shut his eyes. “The things he did-” 

“I know.” 

“The things he said-” He clenched her palm again, and she leaned forwards, using her free hand to cup his face. 

“We won’t let any of it happen.” she said, but Bertrand could feel her trembling. “Not to our babies. Not to anyone.” 

“Beatrice…” he slid his hand to her arm again, and then said, his voice breaking, “If- if he goes near Violet-” 

“He won’t.” Beatrice said certainly, that fire lighting behind her eyes again. “We’ll kill him.” 

“That’s what scares me, Bea. I- I never thought he could- he would even think-” 

Beatrice sighed. “Time flies by, and carries away our tender caresses for ever. Time flies far from this happy oasis and does not return.” 

“We are not sure of sorrow, and joy was never sure.” Bertrand replied. “Today will die tomorrow, time stoops to no man’s lure.”

“Farewell past, happy dreams of days gone by. The roses in my cheeks already are faded.” 

“Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf.” 

They looked at each other, and then Beatrice leaned further, giving her husband a soft, comforting kiss. 

[aaliyahcrosses]

The Art of Letting Go

Most of the time, a good story is a straightforward one. On rare occasions, it comes in loops. This one - well, it isn’t exactly good, but it’s one that goes backwards.

Or: Calendar girl who is lost to the world / Stay(s) alive

notes: 

made for coai week 2019

may incredibly be confusing at times

barring the prologue and epilogue, the chronological timeline of this fic actually starts from the last one, going up. (If you feel confused, you can give the fic a read on its chronological order. It might make better sense for you.)

-

PROLOGUE

“No, no, no.” A man groans as soon as he was pushed out of the blue doors. He tries to open them, even with keys, but to no avail. “You can’t do that to me! You can’t lock me out!”

There was no reply.

Nearby, there was a huge building, where he most definitely can hear gunshots.

He huffed.

“Fine. But it’s just this one time. One time.”

-

SEVEN

Time

"Happy ever after doesn’t mean forever. It just means time. A little time.”

“Come on,” the girl says, “Come with me.”

Stupefied by the shock, all Conan can really do is take her offered hand and let himself be led. She leads him in through the Aquarium.

Ai's safe , she didn’t die. She’s okay . But he has so many questions, all of them at the tip of his tongue. He just doesn’t know where to start.

The take down of the Organization happened two days ago, and Haibara had been missing since then. He remembered it. Everything was going wrong. The full force of the authorities wasn’t cutting it, and he was desperate to save Ran to even do a thing about their enemies when Haibara volunteered on “bringing them down to their knees.” He really didn’t know what it meant. He hadn’t even said anything in reply when she ran off.

A few minutes later and there was a huge explosion, with Haibara Ai nowhere to be found. He’d expected the worst.

Earlier today he received a text from her phone, and he scrambled to go. Only to find her unharmed.

“How did you survive?” was the first question that left his mouth.

She laughs - a real, real laugh - and he doesn’t know how to deal with that. “Why?” she replies coyly. “Didn’t want me to?”

“Haibara,” he practically growls the name in warning.

He asks her more questions - where she was, what happened - all of them she evaded easily.

And then she lets go of his hand and stops walking, only to stare at the huge display of jellyfish.

“Do you know,” she said after a while, “why I called you here?”

He shakes his head - he really has no idea. For the past few days everyone had believed her to be dead, the only one who can find the cure to the drug. He was thinking about coming clean to Ran.

She turns to him. The lights from the jellyfish aquarium illuminate her face. She was smiling, in a sort of bittersweet way.

“Because I wanted to say I love you.”

Everything after that felt like a blur. The next thing he knows, he’s standing in his room - Kudo Shinichi’s room - all alone, with the gateway back to his former life, the cure to the apotoxin, on his hand.

On his cheek, a kiss mark leftover by a lipstick.

-

SIX

Wish/Dream

“You don’t run out of the people you care about. Wish I was more like that.”

When Haibara Ai… no, when Miyano Shiho was young, so young, she had a cot - a crib, and a mobile over it filled with stars. Maybe it was a memory, or maybe it’s just her imagination, but she remembers it. She remembers a sister, looking at her with a smile, remembers a father, patting her fondly, and remembers a mother humming a song until she falls asleep. She remembers, and sometimes she dreams of these memories.

But there are days she remembers something else . She remembers a father, leaving the house much more frequently, until he rarely ever does come back. She remembers a mother doing the exact same. Little Miyanos, left by their parents to fend for their own. And so Miyano Shiho began to devote herself to studying.

It was the wrong choice. Because everything her parents had been preventing to happen she managed to do within just months. She’s sent to America, to do what she’s good at.

Miyano Shiho was merely seven when she realized the mistake she had made. She was ten when her parents were killed. And thirteen when she decided to keep her sister only partially informed on what she does in the Organization. Pushed Akemi away, bit by bit, and only realized it too late when they told her about the death of her sister.

When she heard about her sister’s death, she’d decided to run away die. She was set on it. But she didn’t die. Fate was cruel like that, she supposed. And so she does the one thing she knows: she runs.

But then. But then she’s met him. An impossible boy.

Don’t run away from your fate.

“Are you sure about this?” The man asks her worriedly, wringing his hands. He's at the door, hesitant.

With her were things she’s collected from their travels, and the cure for APTX4869.

She smiles. “You told me, didn’t you? And he did too, I suppose. But you showed me. Rule number seven.”

He grins in remembrance. “Never run when you’re scared.”

She nods, and echoes, “Never run when you’re scared.”

"See you around, Ai Haibara."

She stays there until he's fully out of sight.

-

FIVE

Blood/Weapon

“The man who abhors violence, never carrying a gun. But this is the truth [...] You take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons.”

For a long, long time, this is what she’d believed: that in order to protect the people she cared for, she should pull away from them, before they get hurt. That’s what her parents had done, and that’s the only thing she knows how to do.

But today she was given a chance. Today, she’s standing in front of Karasuma .

She might have looked small and tiny and very young, but Haibara Ai is also Miyano Shiho, who is not someone small and tiny and very young.

Truth be told, all she wanted to do was leave him there. Let him die underneath the rubble when the place explodes.

But killing him would make him succeed. Make it seem like he’s controlled her, much more than she originally thought.

She speaks. Measured and calm and clear. She doesn’t shout. She asks about her parents, about why they had to die.

She hears the police sirens outside.

She stares at him. One. Two. Three. Four -

“Haibara,” she remembers what that man said when he took her back here. This was something not to be done. Dangers of the universe imploding and all that. But she’d begged and pleaded and here she is now, in front of the Boss, explosion coming, and the chance to bump into a younger version of herself increasing, all within a few minutes.  “Whatever you do, I won’t think any less of you. I won’t blame you. You’re forgiven. Always and completely.”

And in that instant. She knows what she’ll do.

“I’ll show you mercy,” she whispers to this cruel man - the cause of the deaths of her family, the cause of the deaths of a million other people. “I’ll show you mercy, because that’s the one thing you’ll never understand.”

Haibara Ai makes sure Karasuma Renya lives .

-

FOUR

Song/Dance

“Always… When you need it the most… There is a song.”

She'd woken up to find no one around, and had run to the doors in a worry. Finding the door open, she peeked out, and found, to her surprise, a party.

She walks out, cautiously, at first - for all she sees are adults everywhere, and Ai looks like a child. She tries to blend in.

It wasn’t long before she found herself arguing with someone.

“Of course someday, we’ll have the answers. That’s why science's there,” she points out, “to answer the unanswerable. That’s how it works.”

The person she was arguing with - a tall man with a tousled mop of silver-grey hair and an aging thin-laced face - shakes his head. He leans down, and whispers, “Why? Is gravity really the reason you fall in love?”

She pauses. In the same exact moment, she sees him across the crowd.

He was dancing with a woman. The woman might not see him, for she had her head on his shoulder as they swayed, but Ai can. And she sees his eyes. All sorts of feelings on his eyes.

A lovely couple. A picture perfect one. He wore a formal tailcoat with a white bow tie, while the woman wore a long black dress. They make quite the pair.

Beside her, she noticed the old man look on at the two fondly. “She’s the wife,” he whispers almost conspiratorially to her, as if telling her a secret.

“What, her ?” She gestures to the female half of the dancing couple they’d been watching.

He nods with a smile. “And here’s a gift from me.” He hands her a box. “More from the missus, really, but -”

“But I don’t know you.”

His eyes twinkle. “Oh, but you do.” He laughs. “Goodbye, Ai Haibara.”

She watches him leave, and was surprised to see herself , well, at least someone who looked an awful lot like her older self - like Shiho ,  but with longer hair - falling into step with him.

She figures she was just imagining things, and carefully opens her gift. It was a lipstick, with a note on it. It’s hallucinogenic , it reads, Do take care when you use it, sweetie.

She looks at the leaving duo again - but they were already gone.

And then all of a sudden, she was being engulfed in a hug.

“Ai. Ai Haibara!” He’d just been kissed on the lips, if the stains were any indication. Not to mention his bow tie is missing. He laughs - the one where you seem to giddy to even feel anything else. “Never trust wives. Never, ever! Went and drugged me, she did! And just after I caught her from falling off a ship too!”

Later on, after she’d managed to get the drugged man out of the party and asleep on a bed, she thinks of the argument she had with the old man. She thinks, gravity might not have been the exact reason one falls, but it still causes a pull. You gravitate towards the one you love, after all. Although that isn’t really the important thing, is it?

Why one falls usually isn’t the relevant question, when it comes to such things. The important question would be: would someone catch you if you do?

-

THREE

Choice

“The name you choose, is like… it’s like a promise you make.”

"You." He looks at her closely, and she glares, because when will he learn personal space? Does he just not have a concept of one? He's impossible. And infuriating. She managed to save the day, hadn't she? "You were about to let yourself just die. Ai Haibara. The little girl who's not a little girl. Why? Why'd you do that?" "Because it was safer," she says. "No!" He snaps. He moves away from her, begins walking back and forth. "No it wasn't! You could have waited for me. Could have listened, maybe. I had a plan. One that didn't involve anyone getting hurt." "No you didn't!" "I had! But you went and had to ruin it. You could have waited, or you could have asked me for help..." he paused. And then he's back at looking closely at her again. She hates that. "You did that too, before. When I met you. You were doing that too, weren't you? You were just sitting there, waiting for the explosion..." "So what if I was?" She challenges. He stops, sighs. And then sits on a chair. "Your name. What does it mean?" "What?" "Me, I chose my name. A promise of sorts. Never cruel, never cowardly. Never giving up or giving in. A promise," he repeats. "Your name. Ai. Sadness. Why?" "I chose it," she replied simply. "The person who gave me the name - the professor - he'd wanted to make it to mean love. But I don't think..." She huffs, looks down, mulling on what to say. And then: "I'm a criminal." She looks at him, gauging his reaction. "I've helped in the killing of so many people. Been the cause of their deaths." He smiles wryly. "What?" "Oh, Ai Haibara. Haibara Ai. You've yet to realize lots of things," he says in reply instead. And his eyes were so full of emotions that she had to look away.

-

TWO

Stars/Space

“You and me, time and space.”

He's a madman and a genius, which means - and she knows this by experience through another boy - that he's also a huge idiot. She realizes this fully ten minutes later, after he spoke in technobabble that she could barely comprehend, and then walks out of the door with only a screwdriver in hand. This is their first adventure. It's full of running and solving and speeches against enemies, and at the end of it all, Ai feels exhilarated. She feels the adrenaline. They end up back inside his ship with their back at its doors. She finds herself laughing. "You... you should know... I'm not really... I'm not really a little girl." The man smiles at her. "So what do you say, not-so-little girl?" He wears a bow tie and loves the color blue. Wears glasses too (he tells her earlier he doesn't need them, not really). Loves puzzles, loves mysteries, and takes her along to solve them. "Travel with me?" He asks. "Where?" Of course Ai sees the similarities - "We're in a time travelling spaceship!" He runs around the console like a child, pressing buttons and flipping switches. He stops back in front of her. "Where and when do you think?" - it's just there's a lot of differences too for her to ignore them. "Okay." She nods. "Okay."

-

ONE

Crossover/AU

“Think about that. Impressionable young girl, and then suddenly this man drops out of the sky.”

She meets him - a ridiculous man who's both brilliant and mad and has a penchant for bowties - the day they’d stormed the Organization headquarters. A good explosion would let her die, save her newly acquired friends - family too, sort of - and everything the Organization held dear. But instead of death, there is a grip on her wrist, and a man. "Hello, little girl. No time to explain," he said, "but run." And run they did. He leads her to a blue... phone booth? - she briefly reads the word 'police' atop it (So, a police box, huh?) while he struggles with the key; and then she's dragged inside. Inside, was big. Very big. Impossibly so. Police boxes as big as telephone booths shouldn't be this big inside, right? There are lights and sounds and it's all very odd. The man, who has already let go of her was at the center of the room, pressing knobs and pulling this and that. He stopped to turn and grin at her. "Go on then," the man wearing a bowtie said, "say it." She grinned back. "It's an alternate dimension. A pocket one." The man gaped, and then frowned. "You weren't supposed to say it that way!" he protested. "You were supposed to go," he continued in a higher voice, 'it's bigger on the inside!'" She only laughed in reply. He tells her his name is the Doctor. She tells him her name is Ai Haibara. They look at each other and know they both kinda lied.

-

EPILOGUE

She travelled, for awhile. Germany and Belarus and Egypt and Thailand and Netherlands and Canada and much, much more. She sends postcards to the professor, every once in a while.

She likes the uncertainty of moving. (Or maybe she’d missed the travel, or maybe she just missed him.)

One day, however, while she sat alone at a park in London, the sound of wheezing and groaning, and she knows.

She runs, and finds herself staring at the face of the old man she’d argued with about science and the pull of love at the party she’d accidentally attended. He was standing just outside his TARDIS.

“It’s you,” she said breathlessly. “You’re him.” She laughs in wonder. “You’ve changed.”

He smiles. “Guess I did. But so did you, Ai Haibara - or should I say, Shiho Miyano?”

She smiles.

Once upon a time, she hurts when she hears that name. She feels scared, because one mention of that name might bring destruction to the people she’d held dear. This time, she just feels incredibly thankful. This was her family’s first gift to her: her name. And she’s so glad that finally, she can use it again with nothing burdening her.

“Yes,” she says in reply, “I think Shiho Miyano will do, Doctor.”

-

The pages keep turning, I'll mark off each day with a cross And I'll laugh about all that we've lost Calendar Girl who is lost to the world Stay alive

-

[mrs-pissoff]

Your eyes (part 2)

Part 1 here

Pairing: Reader (she/her) x Thane Krios

Disclaimer: I don’t own Mass Effect or its characters.

A/N: This will be a long one. I’m just verbose and love a slower burn. I have no idea how long this story will end up being, but hopefully I can finish it before my muse dies. I can tell she’s getting tired already.

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She retreated to her room hastily after the encounter, and if she wasn't feeling sleepless before, now she was definitely sure she wasn't going to get even a minute of restful sleep. It was all so surreal and his words rang in her mind endlessly.

You intrigue me.

Sitting down onto her bed a heavy sight escaped her lips. She wanted to understand why Thane of all people would say something like this, and to her. Someone who was less than kind to him. He didn’t seem to be the kind of man who’d say such things easily. The thought of him messing with her did cross her mind, but he surely has much better things to do than to get back at her in such a juvenile manner.

The need to remember and analyze her interactions with the drell overwhelmed her. She must have missed something that led to this moment. Surely she has.

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The last time they spoke was a few weeks ago, when he got word of what his son was about to do. The mission only required Shepard and Thane in the end, plus the cooperation of Captain Bailey and C-Sec, but she was still around while they gathered information on Kolyat's target and the person who ordered the hit. She was patiently listening from the sidelines, waiting for the pair to finish talking to Mouse.

She knew very little of Thane and his life. She never bothered to ask. ‘Assassins are not very complicated’, she thought. Meet contact, acquire target, fulfill contract by murder. Easy enough for someone who has the stomach to kill just about anyone regardless of their moral standing. Apparently, Thane was one such man and somehow that didn't make him appear in a more favorable light at all. Of course she was missing many of the pieces here. For example she never knew he had a son until yesterday. Someone was forgiving enough to love a man who kills without distinction if he's told to do so. The world was truly strange.

In hindsight her words seem awfully skewed now. Shepard had told her a few things about him since then, not that she cared to know any of it previously. It may have been better not to learn those things, but it was probably an attempt at trying to diffuse the situation by making her understand Thane's point of view a bit more. Not that it needed diffusing in the first place, it would never deteriorate further. She was done with that conversation, and with him. He was part of the team, and as such had to be tolerated, but that was the extent to what she could do for him. Nevertheless, Shepard, ever the peacekeeper, was relentless and in the end she learned certain things about him. Like how he was raised by the hanar and trained as an assassin from a young age, and how this was pretty much all he knew of the world around him. Seemed like an awfully meaningless life to her, having others make all the decisions for you as if you lacked free will, and being used as a tool. According to Shepard, Thane even referred to himself as such. It's hard to believe that anyone would think of living such a life as great honor. Senseless, all of it. Willingly giving away children to be trained as assassins, stripping them of the opportunity of a healthy and happy childhood. A fate like that can lead to no fully functional adult and Thane is a prime example of that. Life scars us all in different ways.

She knows these things now, but back then, at that moment when she first snapped at him, she didn't. These major differences in their culture flew right by her head and she never bothered to look deeper into why exactly Thane would do the things he had done. Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Just because she knows, doesn't mean she has to accept it as well. It's just easier to understand now. But that day? That day when he admitted to abandoning his own son, who was now about to ruin his own life, Thane just looked like a dying coward with a filthy conscience, ready to save face. A man hopelessly scrambling to lighten his soul before the end. She thought his reasons were selfish and wanted to let him know how much of a hypocrite he was, how he failed to calculate the consequences of his negligence which culminated in this unfortunate situation. For the first time since joining the Normandy crew, she abandoned her cautious and reserved manner and let her words flow freely without filter. Words that were meant to tear at him. And she didn’t even understand why.

Shepard had just told him it was not his fault, and like a saint, he said he had to hold himself accountable. That was the last push, she couldn't stay silent any longer.

"How hypocritical of you. Leaving your son behind only to return now. Must have been one long journey finding that backbone." Her voice was low but bitter. She didn't want passersby to notice the conversation, but she wanted him to hear every word. Of course she wouldn't support his son's decision, but it was clear to her now where it was coming from. They never mentioned the possible motive during the debriefing on the shuttle, for good reason it seems.

"He faces a dark path." That much was evident, she wasn't debating it.

"If only he had a good example to follow, huh?" She felt her mood sink further as she faced him, and her tone mirrored that clearly. It was dripping with venom. And Shepard of all people told him just a few seconds ago how it wasn't his fault. There was no one left who was more at fault than Thane. No one.

"I left to protect him. To make sure that he would never be pursued by the people who killed his mother." A sound argument at first glance, but severely flawed at the second. At least he seemed to think it was the right choice, as his answer held a hint of resistance.

"You leaving isn't the biggest and only problem. It's the fact you never returned until now." Her jaw was clenched now and her eyes fixed on the male. His gaze was distant, almost as if a thick mist was obscuring his view. Perhaps she caught him off guard but his silence only angered her more and not waiting for a reply, she continued.

"Has it ever occurred to you that your son would have a different idea of why you left? Have you even stopped to think how it must have felt to him to lose not only a mother, but a father as well? Have you put so little faith in him that you've never considered returning to explain everything to him? You were fine leaving him in the dark all these years, but now that he's doing the only thing he can to understand you better, you decide to return!" Her voice was louder by the end than she would've liked, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. There was no need to draw too much attention to themselves. She wasn't even sure why she felt so affected, both Thane and his son were strangers to her. She couldn't even attach a face to the latter, as she's never met him. But here she was, getting worked up over something that wasn't even her concern.

She took one more breath and glanced at Shepard, half-expecting the Commander to step in and say something in Thane's favor like before. Instead she met Shepard's surprised eyes as they darted cautiously between Thane and her. There would be no fighting, no, Shepard didn't need to worry about that, but she would still bury Thane with her words. "It's almost as if the only reason you're here now is to clear your conscience."

"I wanted him to choose a different future, away from all the suffering I've caused. For him to live a better life than what I could have given him." His voice was almost too quiet to hear, his tone somber and remorseful. Her eyes met his once more.

"And so you decided to cause more suffering by leaving and never returning? So he could only guess why you left? Maybe even feel unwanted or responsible for it? You never gave him the chance to understand your reasons, you never asked him what he wanted and what would have made him happy. You weren't even there when he needed you the most! You hid like a gutless coward instead and would have died knowing that you were unworthy of being called a father!" There was little keeping her volume in check now as she hissed the last words, running out of breath as she finished.

The few concerned glances of the people around them made her snap out of her frenzy. Suddenly she felt more self-conscious than before. She glanced around uneasily before turning back to Thane one last time, careful not to be too loud this time.

"It may not be obvious to you, but it's certainly not rocket science either. Your son may have accidentally found the only way to successfully draw your attention to himself. Just think about how sad this is. Had he not decided to go through with this, you'd have never come here at all. It may not be his end goal to meet you, but I'm sure he hopes to gain an understanding of you at least. For his sake, I hope you can intervene in time and provide him solace. He deserved better."

There was nothing else she could or wanted to say. She felt drained of nearly all emotion, save for a drop of guilt. She didn't even know what she felt guilty for, it was certainly not for Thane. No. You reap what you sow, right? Right. She felt somewhat sorry for Shepard for having to witness this conversation, sure, but that wasn't it either. Perhaps it was the fact that she'd never shown so much of herself so publicly. A selfish reason, but who wants to make a fool of themselves in front of a crowd? Especially knowing how this whole issue had nothing to do with her. If only she managed to take her own advice and mind her business and stew about it alone, when no one was looking. She needed to leave. And right now. She looked up at Shepard, almost begging the Commander with her eyes to break the deafening silence and thankfully, Shepard delivered.

"Come on, we're wasting time. Let's go back to Bailey."

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She spent the rest of the time sitting on a bench not too far from Bailey's office where Shepard and Thane conducted their impromptu interrogation. The waiting was killing her, sitting alone and overthinking her previous outburst wasn't proving very productive. She needed to sleep, or cry, or both. Anything to purge her system.

The pained expression of Thane also haunted her more than she'd like to admit. The man made many mistakes, and paid for most of them. Now it was a possibility that he'd lose the only thing left that he may have held dear to his heart. It really wasn't her place to lash out at him. Of course Shepard's coddling of him also rubbed her the wrong way, for more reasons than one. So, so selfish. The thought of ruining an innocent child's hopes and future still sent her fuming though. Why are children always the ones who have to suffer the most? It was never fair, never. They'd have to carry the burden, be molded by it and grow up with it. If they were lucky, they'd become healthy adults who'll know better than to inflict the same on their own children. If not, then regardless of the reason, they could be tempted to follow a bad example, like Kolyat.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she saw Shepard return, Thane and another drell, his son, being escorted behind her by Bailey and his men. She didn't even realize they moved on from the interrogation. Just how much time has passed?

Thane and Kolyat were led into a separate room, while Shepard and Bailey discussed whatever happened and may come next. She breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes met Shepard's. They were all alive and seemingly well at the very least.

Bailey and the Commander continued talking for what seemed like an agonizingly long time before Shepard joined her. She spoke before the Commander could.

"Reunited at last. Did it go well?"

"Better than expected. We arrived before Kolyat could fulfill the contract. Bailey offered to provide a room for the two of them to catch up and... sort things out. They've been in there for a while now, we'll leave once they're done."

She listened but was somehow still distracted by how easily Shepard could solve problems. Attempted assassination, finding a ship that was lost a decade ago and saving its surviving crew, infiltrating a known criminal's home to steal something, and the list goes on and on. It never ceased to amaze her how Shepard managed to succeed at nearly everything. No wonder people put so much hope into them. But the Hero of the Citadel was still just one soldier and no matter how solid someone is under fire, the pressure of defeating yet another great threat, possibly relating to the reapers, could break anyone regardless of strength, training or experience. It's hard to believe she was a skeptic first.

Time sure proved her wrong.

Realizing that she's been staring blankly out of her head without acknowledging what was said, she nodded. "That's good, they probably have a lot to talk about. And Thane must have a lot of explaining to do." She regretted saying that immediately, fearing that Shepard may misunderstand it. She didn't mean any harm with this statement, not this time at least.

Luckily, before any more could be said, Bailey waved the two of them over, signaling that the family reunion has just ended. They could get ready to leave now. At last.

A silent shuttle ride later they arrived back to the Normandy and departed the Citadel.

The day finally ended, and not a moment too soon.

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I contemplated posting this, I’m not very happy with it, but I don’t know how to rewrite it. Oh well :/

Also, I’m very passionate about parents fucking up their own children (my personal experience is probably coloring my perception on this topic) and it bothered me how we can’t really call Thane out on his shit. I wish we could.

[loki-fanfic-whore]

Consumed ch.7

Warnings: adult situations, blood, horrifying imagery, bad grammar

@onceuponagleepottermindlock @jessiejunebug @iloveyouthreethousand-o6 @imagine-that-100 @drakesfiance

Chapter 7 Oblivion

Thor was covered in thick furs and still shivered from the freezing temperatures. He climbed up treacherous mountains until finally he came to the large ornate palace of gold and gems. The Jotun were known for their lavish taste.

He ascended the stairs and pushed the front door open to ascertain Lokis whereabouts. His brother, and the ruler of Jotunheim, Helbindi would know. The scene before him caused even the God of thunder to gasp.

Loki stood trembling covered in blood. He was panting and angrily glared at the pile of bodies beneath his feet.

"Bow or I will gut you and eat your entrails." He roared at the remaining giants. His hands glowing a deep green. The remaining guards and diplomats fell to their knees and bowed till their foreheads touched the ground.

"Loki-" thor called cautiously.

Loki turned and stared at his brother.

"Helbindi is dead. I snapped his neck and ripped his spine out. This realm and everyone within it...is mine!" He was putting on theatrics. Thor knew him all to well.

"Loki you have to come with me." Thor called as he stepped towards the angry god.

Býleister ran towards him with a blade pulled. Loki stepped back and flung the giant against a stone wall pushing him through it. Loki winced as a dagger flew into his ribs. Hissing he pulled the dagger out and let it clatter on the ground. Thor moved beside Loki and quickly deflected another dagger.

"Loki you have no claim to this realm. Just because you were Laufeys bastard means nothing to our people!" Býleister appeared from the crater in the wall. Loki tackled him and slit his throat, blood splattering his face.

"And yet, this realm is mine now." He whispered into the gurgling and sputtering giants ear. He was visibly shaking now.

Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki sighed and whispered under his breath.

"I'd kill everyone in all the realms if it made her happy."

"Loki- lady embers needs you...urgently brother." Thor stressed the urgently part. Loki barked orders at the guards to clean everything up and get ready for his return. He appointed a diplomat to act in his stead and then turned to follow Thor.

"Brother your wound is angry..." thor reached out to touch Loki's chest. Loki caught his hand.

"Let me hurt. I need to feel something." Loki snarled the warning.

"Go to her Loki...she needs you...they need you."

Loki stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel glaring at Thor.

"...they?" Was all he said before Thor called upon the bifrost.

Your eyes flitted backwards in their sockets as you felt yourself falling...wait that wasnt right..you weren't falling...you were...floating? Groaning you tried to open your eyes only to feel them sting. The light too bright for you see.

"Try not to move. I know it's hard, and probably painful, but we needed to act quickly. You are suspended in a viscous liquid that is aiding your body in healing. Think of it like cryogenics, you are lucid but you aren't really aging...it was the only way to keep you alive right now." You could tell it was Bruce's voice, soft and sweet as he tried to keep you from panicking.

You raised a shaky hand and felt your belly, distended and round under your hand you let a sob escape.

"We managed to save the child. Your wall was badly torn. It's why you were placed into the tank. It helps keep the weight off of your womb. I need you to try to respond. You have a mask apparatus on your face, less like the mouth guard used last time, more like a divers mask. Can you open your eyes and try to describe what you see?" Bruce spoke in a soft gentle voice trying hard not to scare you. If your heart rate spiked even the slightest it could terminate the pregnancy and possibly even your own life.

You groaned gently as your eyes opened a sliver.

"It's bright." You spoke hoarsely. Your throat felt like a sandbox and your tongue was sandpaper.

"Oh shit, sorry, let me dim the lights." You could hear a whirring noise as everything became dark around you.

You opened your eyes more and could see you were in the lab. True to his words you were suspended in a tank of dark blue liquid. It felt much thicker than water though and made it hard for you to move.

"I'm- I'm inside your lab. The water is dark blue...and I'm-" you looked down to see your skin was ebony with bright red cracks across it. Your belly was covered in a beautiful design of these cracks, small slivers of light seeping through as if you illuminated from within.

"I'm in my muspel form right now." You finished.

Bruce approached the tank and smiled.

"Good. I'm glad your vision wasn't affected. Can you hear alright? Touch? What about taste?" He was asking for all of your senses to make sure everything was okay.

"Well to be honest my mouth is a desert Bruce, and I can hear as well as before. I can feel my belly. I can feel the baby." Your voice cracked gently as you felt the shifting within your belly. Tears pricked your eyes.

"Do you remember what happened? Just before waking up?" He asked, your mind was blank, you tried hard to think, but nothing came.

"The reason for all of the questions is because-"

"Bruce we need you in the landing bay immediately. They have returned." The voice was Tony's and it made your heart rate rise. Who was they? Where had they gone? Bruce sighed and smiled at you.

"Hold that thought... please let me know if you have any questions while I'm away."

You were alone in the tank and felt your brain begin to wander.

Who was back? Perhaps the avengers had returned from a mission. That answer didn't seem to fit well enough for your liking. You felt utterly confused, you were missing something. Forgetting something, but you couldn't think of what it was. Your heartrate was rising due to the stress of pushing yourself to remember.

"Take a deep breath sweetheart. It'll all be okay." Natasha's sweet voice filled your ears.

"Nat..." you spoke breathlessly.

"I'm forgetting something." You fidgeted within your tank.

"You need to stay calm. Your baby needs you to stay calm. Please just talk to me. Maybe we can work through it together." Natasha pulled a chair up to the tank and sat infront of you. She smiled and pantomimed deep breathing.

You breathed in and out...a memory flashing into your mind...

'Just breathe...in...and out...' it was so fuzzy and hazy, but it definitely was a man.

"Sweetheart?" Natasha cooed gently putting a hand to the tank.

"I-I saw a man...telling me to breathe." You mumbled as you closed your eyes willing the memory to unfog. Natasha frowned,

"What exactly do you remember before waking up in the tank?"

"I-I remember blood...and thinking I had lost my baby..."

"Do you remember who the father is?" Natasha was cautious with her phrasing.

You squinted and thought hard, a fuzzy image appearing, but you honestly couldn't make out any features.

"No...I cant remember..." you whispered feeling your belly shift.

"Its okay. That's perfectly okay...he isn't in the picture anymore anyway. Please, excuse me, I need to find Bruce. It's time for your medicine." She quickly hurried out of the lab to tell Bruce before Loki could get to you.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Sixty-One: Swimming ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, drowning ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

The memory has always been foggy.

Even now, ten years after that fateful day, Sasuke recalls very little of what happened. One minute he had been swimming in the shallow edge of the ocean with his brother, enthused and excited to finally have a family vacation. His parents were always so busy, but at last, they had a few days to just...be together. Have some fun. Even Fugaku had been smiling.

And then...he went under.

Water. Flashes of blue and white, short gasps of air, flailing limbs, not knowing what way was up or down. It seemed to go on forever, struggling to breathe just enough to stay alive before being pulled back down.

It was like the current had him by the ankles, determined to pull him to a watery grave.

...but then...it stopped. He surfaced. Swam a few desperate, amateur strokes in his youth until his feet touched a sandy floor.

Where…?

He was in a strange formation of stone. Almost like an egg from the inside, with a hole at the top, bright blue with sky. Around one edge was a belt of the fine earthen granules, golden and soft. A few plants grew along the edges. And there, to the other side, was a dipping abyss.

It looked like it went...under the stone? A tunnel out, maybe?

But he’d been far too frightened to try to swim back under - to make his way back out to his family. Instead, he cried for help. Cried until his voice went hoarse. And then finally, blessedly, someone looked in through the top at him. Lowered a rope with a slat of wood to sit on, like his swing back home. Clinging to it and shivering, Sasuke had been pulled up through the gap and back into the panicked arms of his family.

Itachi blamed himself. Said he’d let Sasuke wander too far. The younger brother had tried to explain that pulling feeling, but...no one would listen. Told him it was a current, not anything conscious or seeking.

...but still, the conviction remained: something had pulled him down there. And then...something had saved him. Put him safely into the strange cove beyond the ocean’s reach.

One would think such an experience would drive a primal fear into him...but instead, he did the opposite. A drive to conquer the water rose in him. And so, Sasuke joined his junior swim team in school. And progressed with it through middle school, and into his final four years of primary education. Now no longer a high schooler, he steps into his final summer before college begins.

And he’s back at the beach.

In his family’s eyes, it’s no longer a welcoming place. He has to wait until his agemates choose it as their last class-wide getaway before he can return. It takes many assurances that he’s going to be fine, he’s no longer a child, before his parents agree to let him go.

It’s...changed since he was a boy.

There’s now a fancy hotel, the beaches far more crowded and trafficked than before. Where they once vacationed with little interruption, there’s hardly a place to sit in the sand.

But in truth, the beach isn’t exactly what Sasuke’s looking for.

He wants to find the cove.

It would be easy enough to climb to the top, but...getting down would be dangerous. No...if he wants in, he’ll have to swim back through the gap under the stone.

Why?

...he has to know. What dragged him down? Was he really just imagining things? Or is there something lurking in these waters?

Managing to ditch his classmates, he makes his way down the beach to the strange cove. From here, it just looks like a rock outcropping. But in truth, it’s perfectly hollow: like a bowl resting on its edge. Wading out to his knees, Sasuke has only a pair of goggles to let him see through the murky water.

From here, he can’t begin to see what he’s looking for. He’ll have to search, first.

Taking a deep breath, he goes a ways further before leaving his feet and swimming. Smooth, clean strokes take him easily out into deeper waters, sticking close to the outcropping before starting to dive in search of the opening.

After fifteen minutes of diving with no luck, he surfaces and treads water, thinking. He can’t really remember what side of the cove he came up through...once he was taken out, his father had scooped him up and taken him back to the car, and his orientation had been lost. He could be searching on the wrong side, but...this was where he was first pulled under.

...maybe there’s no way back unless he’s taken.

It’s risky, but...maybe worth a try.

Doing his best to relax, Sasuke takes several preparatory breaths...before letting himself sink beneath the waves.

For a long moment, there’s a calm weightlessness as he just...floats between the ocean floor and the surface.

But then an ankle tugs, and he can’t help a partial exhale of surprise - precious air lost as he watches the light of the sky above him quickly darken.

Struggling to look down and regain his mobility, he can’t quite see if something really has him...or if it’s just an undertow. Seaweed soon brushes past him, tickling at his skin and obscuring his vision. Slowly his lungs begin to burn as his oxygen depletes.

Then...the pull suddenly stops.

Hovering in a forest of kelp, he slowly strokes with his limbs. This...is unnerving. He can’t see anything, but - there! Something just swam past! It...it’s not a shark, is it…?

Dark eyes flickering, he cautiously starts making his way to the surface, only to jerk as something grabs his wrist! Rather than up, he’s pulled forward, and the water turns pitch black.

Is...is he…?

No...there! Light! A surface! Freed from whatever grasped him, he strokes in desperation to breach, gasping as he hits air. Struggling forward, he eventually finds sand, crawling up before collapsing on his back.

Silence, save for the muffled calls of gulls, and the gentle hiss of the ocean.

“...it’s you again.”

Stilling and feeling his heart stop, Sasuke stares straight up. Who...who said…?

“That was...a very foolish thing to do. I almost lost you.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sasuke pulls himself upright, sitting along the sand and looking to the water.

There, leaning on her elbows in the shallows, is a girl. At first glance, there’s nothing abnormal, but...her legs aren’t legs. It’s...it’s a tail. Like a dolphin’s. And her eyes are a strange, solid plane of white. No pupils. Webbed skin clings between her fingers, the shells of her ears long and frilled, like fins.

It had been only a dream. A figment of his imagination. Something seen so briefly, even a child barely dared to believe it, dashed quickly by the stern words of adults.

There’s no such thing as mermaids.

But he remembers, now. She’d pulled him in. Disappeared in a flash...but he saw her on  his way up, clinging to that rope and board.

...she saved him.

And now she’s done it twice.

Her head tilts, wet curtain of amethyst hair slithering over her back. “...why did you come back?”

“I...I had to know.”

“...know?”

“That you were real. That I wasn’t crazy…!”

“They won’t believe you.”

“I don’t care! It’s not about them...it’s about me.” Struggling to stand, he starts to pace. “I told them...I told them something pulled me! Saved me! But no one believed...so neither did I. But now...now I know.”

Staring at him, the mermaid then asks, “...now what will you do?”

“...I dunno. Go back, I guess.”

“You won’t try to tell anyone?”

“No. You’re right - no one would believe me. I just had to prove it to myself.” Taking his turn to look at her, he adds, “...thank you for saving me. Twice.”

Her lips lift in a smile. “...you’re welcome. You like my little hideaway…?”

Gaze moving around the strange formation, he nods. “Never seen anything else like it. Or like you.”

“...Hinata.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Hinata.”

He brightens. “Sasuke. Nice to...officially meet you, Hinata.”

“Likewise.” Again her head tilts. “...will you ever come back again?”

“I dunno...maybe.”

“I would...like that.”

“Yeah? ...me too.”

“But...you are not alone now, are you? They will come looking.”

“...yeah, probably.”

“I should take you back.”

But he just got here, just met her…! Just finally proved to himself he’s not insane! “...all right.”

“Keep hold of my tail - I’ll show you the way.”

Obliging, Sasuke watches as she carefully makes her way out, quickly heading for the surface. As he’d suspected, they’re far farther from shore than he’d initially thought.

“See this stone, here? It marks the way. For when you return. Stay close to the side, the current won’t find you.”

“Is that really what dragged me down?”

...she doesn’t reply.

Treading water, he hesitates. “...well...guess this is goodbye for now.” This all feels so surreal, just...talking to her. Like she’s any other person.

“Yes...for now. Take care, Sasuke. The ocean gives and takes as she pleases. Don’t tempt her again.”

“...I’ll try not to.” Taking her advice, he makes his way around toward shore. It’s gotten late, the crowds thinning a bit.

“Hey, there he is!”

“Sasuke! Where you been?”

Making his way up the beach, the Uchiha pauses. “Just...doing a little diving.”

“C’mon man, we’re going out for dinner! Fresh seafood!”

“...be right there.”

                                                             .oOo.

     Not much to say about this one besides...mermaids! Mermaid Hinata, specifically. And almost-drowned Sasuke, lol      Not as fleshed out as I'd like, but it's late and I'm tired, as usual - someday I'll do these when not exhausted =w=;;;      Anyway, my eyeballs are screaming - time for bed! Thanks for reading~