#and I feel like I’m drowning in a whirlpool of anxiety

[ruler-of-turtle-kind]

Okay, that's enough Magnus Archives for today.

[tracle0]

Something was very, very wrong, and he was absolutely certain it had something to do with the fact that a heart was beating in his chest.

Loud, angry shouts echoed in the air, familiar voices clashing in fury. Someone stumbled on the ground, a few meters away, cursed and righted themselves, backing away from him. Beneath his fingers, the grass was cool and wet, painfully numbing his hands. Panic pounded at his ribcage, scraped at his throat, strained to free itself. It demanded an outlet for its energy, encouraged him to get up and run away, but refused to provide any reason for the fear.

With a throat too dry to scream with, he whimpered to himself instead, a tiny, pathetic noise. Amongst the shouting, it shouldn’t have been heard, and yet in a matter of seconds, someone approached him. “Keaton? Keaton, are you alright? Can you hear me? Keaton?”

Keaton. Vaguely, part of his head recognised that as his name, the word that he answered to, chosen after months of agonising and searching and responding to a name that was not his own. The rest of his head was pulling itself in a thousand directions, screaming, fearful, angry, confused, scared.

He peered up from his knees, where his head had been buried. Everything was white, smoky, a few dark shapes moving amongst the mist, jostling and shouting. Wincing away from the commotion, he lowered his stare to the floor, watching the white. It didn’t move like normal smoke – it coiled, crept, reaching out to him in a friendly, gentle way. After a moment of watching, he brushed a hand through it.

Touching it bought a new jolt of panic, confusion, fear, so overwhelming he was almost blinded by it. Jerking his hand away with a sharp hiss, he tried to slow his breathing to a normal level but found the smoke still snaking towards him, seeking him out, desperate to share its terror.

At first, he wanted to scramble away, but his head and body weren’t co-ordinating yet, and it was surrounding him from all angles. When it started to creep closer, enclosing him in a smaller and smaller patch, he instinctively twitched his hand, and the creeping tendrils were pushed away by an invisible force, leaving a small, round patch of grass clear for him to stay in. And stay he did, eye sockets pressed into his knees, heart pounding, thoughts moving far too quickly for him to keep up with.

Keaton. Him. His name. His body, stiff and awkward as it was. His hands, buzzing, burning, why weren’t they buzzing or burning? He could remember them buzzing and burning and something bad had happened.

What? What? What had happened? Where was he? Who was he? Keaton? The name tasted right, but unfamiliar at the same time. Why was he here? How was he here? He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be breathing. Was he breathing?

Someone. Next to him, the same voice as before, one he recognised but couldn’t place. Whoever it was, he knew he trusted them. Why? How? Doesn’t matter. They were saying something, had been saying something for a while, a low soothing mumble for his ears only, words that didn’t make sense yet, words that were trying to help him. The voice came attached with an image of someone tall, holding a long pole and grinning, as if having just delivered a terrible joke. Not helpful. Not useful. He ignored it.

How long had he been on the floor? How long had he been breathing, thinking, cowering? How long had his eyes been clamped shut for? It helped his breathing slow down. It helped his shoulders relax. He kept his eyes shut, hugging his knees, gripping his arms so tightly he could feel the outline of the bone.

Bone. Bone. His bones. Peeking through his skin, his skin coming undone, he had watched it unwind itself, oh god, oh god, what had happened to him?!

Around him, the shouting continued. Someone fearful, nearby, words translating into meaning in his head over the new wave of panic; “Get out! Go away! Leave him alone!”

Someone angry, further away; “You’ve fucked him! You’ve fucked him! This is your fault!”

Someone muttering, almost out of his range. “This isn’t right. This can’t be right.”

Someone speaking, right next to him; “It’s okay. You’re okay. Don’t worry. We’ll get you somewhere safe.”

A blink and the shouting was gone, the quiet murmur next to him gone, moved to a hushed conversation a few meters away from him.

“Is he alive?” The frightened voice, the person who had been shouting was asking, a much calmer, more feminine voice. He recognised it again, understood it was someone he trusted, didn’t know how or why. With a closer vocalisation, memories swarmed him; a dark and dreary seafront. Braided hair blowing in the wind as tired eyes frowned down at a folder. Ranting passionately together about something not very important. They were good things to recall, sweet moments in the confusion he was drowning in, even if they did raise more questions.

“He’s alive,” the first familiar voice said, a masculine voice. “I think he’s a bit scared.”

A bit scared. That was putting it lightly. Granted, the pounding panic had subdued into pressing anxiety, but he was still more than a bit scared.

“Didn’t expect this as an outcome,” the first voice continued, picking at his words. “Didn’t think he’d…”

“No, me neither,” replied the second. “It’s a miracle. Alhamdulillah.” A pause, a moment of quiet, a moment for his head to calm down a little, then again, “Is he… are you sure he’s alive? Definitely alive?”

“Ask him yourself.”

“I’m here,” Keaton said quietly, eyes still screwed shut, the words bitter and foreign on his tongue. The hum of sound in his throat made his pulse race, but he swallowed it all down. “I’m alive.”

Someone responded, but the panic was drowning out words again. There was peace in the blackness, calm in the quiet, even when it came from ignored speech and shut eyes. He took what he could get, kept his head lowered, kept his terror as low as it would go.

Blink. He was being guided to his feet, someone holding his arm, gently narrating what they were doing as he was walked somewhere. For a few steps, he let himself be pulled through the dark, but quickly found it was more dizzying to walk with his eyes shut than it was terrifying to look around. He could be guided into some of the white smoke, stumbling into a suffocating trap of unmanageable panic. He could trip and fall. It was safer.

Logic didn’t make it any less terrifying. Fear was not logical. Fear cowered at the tapping of tree branches at a dark window, and the shuddering settling of the house at night. Fear flinched away from the unfamiliar and unknown and hid behind a pounding heart. Fear coaxed and nurtured an irrational thought process that kept him hunched over, keeping himself as small as possible as he stared around.

The only relief was the white smoke was now gone, but that was barely a relief; now he could see everything clearly. Images sang at him, high-pitched and straining. Everything jabbed at him, demanding attention. Bush. Grass. Fence. Tree. Bench. Path. People. Stone. Stones, plural. Floating all around, every single pebble and rock that had been on the ground was held in the air, perfectly still, as if poised to fire.

Too much. He shut his eyes.

Blink. Opening them again as the panic started to die down, he glanced up quickly. Sure enough, the stones were still there, frozen in place. Watching. Waiting. The people with him – one tall and white, by his side, the other short and black, leading the way, both familiar, both unnameable – weren’t ignoring the rocks entirely, but also weren’t giving any indication that they were strange.

Maybe it was normal. Maybe he hadn’t properly loaded the world in his brain. Something was clearly wrong with him right now. His heart was still thumping in his chest. His head was still screaming in panic. So what if there were floating stones all around him? It was the least of his worries.

Their presence wouldn’t leave him alone. After a few steps, with his head lowered to the floor, he murmured, “Are the stones meant to be doing that?”

If there had been a conversation before he spoke, it died as soon as the first word left his mouth. “No,” the second voice told him, coming from the black woman. A name nagged at his head, out of reach, almost taunting him. “You’re holding them.” 

“Me?” His voice was barely louder than a breath. Eyes stuck to the closest stone, he flicked his wrist experimentally, dismissively, and sure enough, it fell to the floor. Every stone fell to the floor, in unison, leaving the air empty.

“There’s no other telekinetics around, Keaton,” she said kindly, casually, unaware of the explosion this new information caused in his head.

Telekinetic. Moving objects without touching them. Yes. Yes, that was what he could do. But to this extent? To this degree? To the point that every stone in the limited distance he could see had been held aloft, held still? That was surely too much. Past his limit. Past a limit. What limit? He had a limit? He had passed a limit. Passed a limit and watched his skin unravel to reveal the bones in his arms as a result.

Horror swept up his throat. The person at his side jumped as Keaton tore himself from their grasp, stumbled to one side and threw up, stomach acid burning his mouth and nose, eyes watering. He shut them again as if it would hide the fact he was sobbing.

Blink. He was in a vehicle, a van, being driven through the night. An endless whirlpool of panic frothed and spiralled in his head, unwilling, unable to stop. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t who he was. Who was he? A name, an ability, a wave of terror, that wasn’t what made up a person. There was more. He just couldn’t remember it.

Eyes open again, he was met with a wide array of small figures, mostly of rats, all perched on the dashboard of the van, watching him. For a moment, he stared back, then glanced to his right. Someone was driving him, someone was next to him. 

Stranger danger. A warning flashed in his head, delightfully normal and much quieter than the fear that pounded with his pulse, and it almost made him smile. These weren’t strangers, anyway. It was the pair from the park, unnamed but trusted, both engaged in a conversation that he chose to ignore.

Whilst they were distracted, he took the chance to study them, try and recognise them. Next to him, on the second passenger seat, was the woman. Her wide smile as she spoke was something he had many memories of, and the way she flicked a long braid behind her shoulder was comfortingly recognisable. She was dressed in a warm, fuzzy jumper, not unlike the material on the neck of his jacket, and looked tired. That didn’t seem unusual for her.

Next to her, on the driver’s seat, was the man, his eyes stuck to the road, listening. His long, blond hair was falling in his face. The sight of it pulled a memory, a moment Keaton had asked about it. Does that not get annoying? He’d gotten a tight smile in response, then almost deliberately, he’d shaken more hair over his eyes. Sweet memories. Confusing memories.

More notable than the hair was his choice of clothes. If a headache could be a person, it would look like him. Or, more specifically, it would dress like him; luring you into a false sense of security with a reasonable, if overly large sweater, then punching you twice in the face with trousers with such jarringly bright patterns they should be considered a hazard.

Lots to take in. Turning away from the pair before they noticed him staring, leaning his head against the window, a hand over his face, he peered through his fingers at the world passing by. His eyelashes blurred the streetlights into bright, spiking strands, dancing as he was pulled through the night. Did he know this place? This town, city, street? Its roads were flat, twisting around each other like snakes wrestling. It seemed quaint, familiar, out of his grasp like so many other things.

It was getting to be annoying that everything was staying away from him. After a moment, as the conversation died down, he dared to ask, “Where are we?”

“Oh, hey, you are awake,” the driver said, delighted. “Are you feeling alright?”

“No,” he said bluntly. The window was cold, numbing his knuckles, providing something to ground himself against the tide of panic. “Where are we?”

“We’re in Mika’s van,” the woman said, which didn’t help much. Although he had first heard her shouting, it seemed very unlike her to raise her voice much at all. Whatever had happened earlier, it must have been bad. “Heading back to the hotel.”

Mika. Not his name, the name of the driver. It slotted into place, filling at least one frustrating hole. There was barely time to relish in the relief before the next scrap of information clicked in his head.

The image of a hotel had very little attached to it – a few specific memories of this pair in a room, talking, laughing, arguing. Him, sitting at a desk, eavesdropping on them as he worked on something, the same sound replaying over and over and over. The two of them hunched over separate meals, leaning against each other as they ate. Friendly. Soft. Welcoming.

So why did the mere mention of a hotel fill him with so much dread, such an overwhelming feeling of wrongness? It drowned out even his panic, leaving him with just the sound of his thudding heart and the creeping sense he didn’t belong.

Blink. He didn’t notice the time pass, but the van was stopped, the engine still and silent. Someone was speaking to him, the still unnamed woman next to him. “When we’re in the room, we can get you some tea,” she was saying as if that would solve all his problems.

“We’re nearly there now,” she was saying.

“When we’re inside, it’ll be better,” she was saying.

“Can you get inside?” She was asking. It felt like a demand.

“Lynne,” came a gentle warning. He barely reacted to the name as it slotted into place. “Give him time.”

Keaton wanted to say yes. The part of his head that grasped at every fact he uncovered, holding onto them carefully and keeping them safe and secure wanted to nod, regardless of cold sweat that was making him shiver and the sense of foreboding that turned the air in his lungs into needles. Telling the truth would be making a fuss, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Or – no, that was the second to last thing he wanted, beaten only by the certainty that he would rather die than set foot in the hotel. Why? Why was this hotel so dreadful? What about it was making him hunch so small, so tight?

The van doors opened before Keaton could find an answer. Eyes snapping open, he stared at the building – all bright lights, walls of glass, white accents. Beyond that, out of his sight but he knew the details were there – a polished floor, the smell of industrial cleaning, cloying, clogging up the air. Vividly, hauntingly, the memory of a reception, a desk, a bell. Three images that made his hands buzz.  

“I can’t go in there,” he whispered into his fist. “Something’s wrong.”

Blink. “Wrong?” Came a confused echo. Mika, outside the van, holding the door open for Keaton. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” He kept his wide-eyed stare on the hotel in front of him, tried to keep his throat from ripping itself apart with the held-back screams. “But I can’t go in. I won’t.” A pause, and quietly, so quiet that he almost didn’t hear himself; “Please don’t make me.”

“We won’t,” came an almost instant response. Lynne’s voice was drowning in sincerity. “Of course not. What do you want to do instead?”

Blink. “I don’t know.” Seven of the rat figurines on the dashboard trembled, lifting a little, and Mika glanced at them, nervous. Forcefully, Keaton unclenched his fingers, settling them back down gently. “I don’t know,” he repeated, softer. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he was told, Lynne’s voice almost stern. “Take your time. Figure it out.”

Blink. He needed to be somewhere safe. Somewhere secure. Somewhere dark and quiet where he could curl up small and ignore the world. The answer brushed by his fingers, and he grasped it firmly. “Home,” he breathed. “Please, take me home.”

Blink. The van, rumbling away underneath him. He had no idea where home was, but he was being driven somewhere. Time had swept past him, leaving him in different moments with no idea how he had ended up there. He could only assume something had happened in the meantime. He could only hope this wouldn’t continue much longer.

Thinking into the future made his head hurt, but not as much as trying to dig into the past. The future was supposed to be confusing. The past was meant to hold facts, opinions, memories, not a murky haziness.

“What happened to me?” His mumble had to travel through his hands and compete with the rumble of the engine for attention. There was no chance anyone had heard it.

“You don’t remember?” He jumped hard at a response, fear flaring up in his chest. Lynne flinched next to him. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Moving his hands from his mouth to make it easier to be heard, he rested them on his knees instead, bouncing them up and down to expel some of the panicked energy. The trembling of the van under him provided a soft buzzing, nowhere near as insistent and urgent as he was expecting. His bones were stable under his skin and it felt wrong, but thinking about how they had peeked through his flesh, letting the meat crumble into dust as they grew more and more exposed – it made every disk in his spine shake.  “Don’t remember what?”

He was so distracted by the wrongness of his skin wrapping around him he almost missed Lynne’s careful words. “Four days ago,” she said softly. “You… You, uh…”

“What?”

“You died, Keaton,” Mika said bluntly. “You died.”

[oingo233]

Rapture is a Boy (8)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior?  And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader(neutral)

Warning: FLUFF, so much fluff you could drown in it, self-doubt (brief) 

Authors Note: This is the last part, which is crazy to me, I truly hope yall love it.  This series is dear to my heart because it has allowed me to meet and talk to you and so many other amazing people!  You all mean so much to me, and Remus is my lil baby too. I can’t even express how much I appreciate and love you all <3

Word Count: 5k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

                                                    Part Eight

                                      ****A Stag, a Rat and a Dog***

Remus POV

“That was-” Peter couldn’t even finish his sentence, he just laughed, he laughed so loud it was hard not to join in with him.  James pat his back and nodded, wiping some of the blue glitter off on his shirt.

“Right, mate.” he agreed.  Sirius was bouncing in his spot, none of our smiles breaking or dimming. “Another notch under the belt of our legacy of awesome,” he all but sang, all of our cheeks still flushed from this morning. He hit Sirius’s arm and they began to race up the stairs, Peter and I followed, jogging after them.  “Lily loved it too!” he added, smiling even bigger at just the thought of her, he was beating Sirius.  

We all stopped running and Sirius was scowling, he lost, we all stood at the portrait when Sirius turned to me.  “Worked well on (Y/N) too,” he stated, smirking at me and making a sexual motion with his hips, James laughed and I pushed him. “Ew, your palms are sweaty.”

“We’ll excuse me, ABBA sweats no doubt after giving the performance of a life time.” I say while James says the word and the painting opens for us. “Besides, it has worked for now.  But they are still oblivious to the truth.  I might lose them all over again, once they know.”

The mood seemed to darken at this realization.  Not everyone is as understanding about my condition as the boys. That’s the real reason I couldn’t stop sweating, and if the boys looked close enough they’d see I couldn’t stop shaking ever so slightly too.  I just got (Y/N) back, I’m not sure how well I’d be able to cope with losing them a second, and final time.  My heart broke just at the thought, and at the very realization that I might have to prepare myself for such an outcome.

“Mate, (Y/N) is one of the people in this world that loves you most.  Besides us of course,” James smiled softly, trying to lighten the mood whenever he could, “I doubt, that anything could make them think differently of you.  You’re not just your condition.  You’re Remus feckin Lupin!” The other boys cheered in agreement as we stepped into our dorms, Peter even went as far as rubbing my shoulders to build up my confidence, he saw a trainer do it to a wrestler on muggle TV once.

“And we’ve got a romantic feckin plan!” Peter cheers, still excited about what is yet to happen. I swallow thickly once more, this day could be one of the best in a while, or the absolute worst.  I guess we’ll know tonight.  

“Yes, and are you guys sure you are okay with this?” I ask, for the fifth time.  James rolls his eyes, and Sirius bangs his head on the dorm room wall.  

“Yes, Moony.  Yes. Yes. Yes.  We are okay with this for the millionth time.  (Y/N) is our friend too, and all we want is to see the lot of ya happy again, so will ya shut up about it.  We already agreed, mate,” Sirius says, looking up just barely lifting his head from the wall.

“And we don’t like lying to (Y/N) either,” James says, Peter nods with each word falling from their lips, as he tugs on pants and grabs a new, not bedazzled, robe.

We were still talking and going over plans for tonight when we left for first period.  The common room was quite expect for our meshed whispers and loud footfalls, it wasn’t until the painting door swung open that we heard another sound.  An all too familiar sound.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat before us.  Her hands folded in at her chest and her pointed eyes trained on us, unblinking.  We all swallowed thickly, our fear and respect for her almost overwhelmed our courage and friendliness towards her.  Almost.

“Did ya enjoy the concert, Minnie?  I was singing just for you.” Sirius said, smiling and trying not to laugh as her expression remained unmoving.  James joined in and I nearly rolled my eyes, but a smile found it’s way onto my lips nonetheless.

“Yeah, we saw ya a-tap-tap-tappy your toes!” He says, doing a little dance.  I was amazed by her ability to not even crack a smile at our enthusiasm, but then again, this was nothing new to her.  “ABBA gets to the best of us doesn’t it?”  As if on cue, Sirius was speaking again. I fought my smile and faked a sullen expression, fingers crossed behind my back, this was the part where one of us tried to weasel our way out of trouble.

“Exactly, our hearts were in it Professor, truly we had good reason and we weren’t hurting anyone.  Shame.  Just a shame Dumbledore gave us detention, any more severe punishment just wouldn’t make any sense.”  She raised a brow and in a last attempt I put in a word of my own.

“But you’re always so sensible Ms. McGonagall. I’m sure your punishment for us will be well-deserved.  Perhaps our outfits were too flashy?” Peter chuckles beside me, and shows her the inside of his robe.

“But this one isn’t at all. Ya see?” He shows her adamantly until she raises a hand and we are drowning in silence, she made us sweat in our palms and neck before speaking.

“Yes.  It appears your shenanigans are over.  But Lucy is still in the hospital wing scrubbing at her skin, the smell is pungent and unmoving.  It seems, Sirius,” She turns to face him, his adam apple bobs, “You did hurt someone.  The real shame is that you don’t seem bothered by that fact.  Follow me, boys.” She said, turning on us, her robes nearly swinging up and hitting our shins.  We follow wordlessly and with our heads down, her words bothered us a little, what really stung was the disappointment on her face and in her frown. (Though Sirius swears he heard her singing along).

She went to Peter’s class first, he went to follow her inside but she raised a hand and said “Oh, you won’t be going to class this morning, Mr.Pettigrew.” She excused Peter herself, whispering into the teachers ear.  My heart sank at the realization that I would not be seeing (Y/N) again this morning, James eyes me, my mood obviously changed.  I couldn’t even spend any time with them before tonight, our lunch would serve as detention as well. I might never get to see them again after tonight, couldn’t even enjoy this little time I have before the truth is out.  I won’t be able to be at peace until tonight or maybe even after, because who will love a monster?

For the rest of the morning we were locked in McGonagall’s empty classroom, writing out letters of apology to be given to Lucy in person later that day.  And attempting to come up with a charm or some potion that would reverse the long lasting affect of the Stink Bombs that we have created.  Wouldn’t be a marauders prank unless everything was well crafted, would it?  But now, our little spell seems to be our downfall.  Luckily, we found the right reversion potion, and it was taken to Madame Pom. immediately.  By the time we were allowed to leave, the bell for second period had just rang.

I sat through my classes with sweaty hands, and bouncing legs.  I agonized in the silence of detention about all that could go wrong, several times I re-debated whether I should really tell (Y/N) the truth, but it was clear that I needed too.  I have lied for too long, and it has cost me too much.  The truth will set me free...or at least I hope it will.  I sat through my very last classes feeling both sick, and determined.  Before we knew it, it was dinner time and James, Sirius, Peter and I snuck out of the castle for our final act of salvation.  Our last attempt to make things right.

Your POV

The ground was rocky and uneven below my feet, between the clumps of dirt and hidden rocks this trip to Hagrids hut felt more like a mountain climbing experience than anything else.  But my breathing was not ragged and exaggerated because of the walk, no, it was because ever since this morning my heart has been beating out of control.  I’ve been breathless and filled with both anxiety and warmth since Remus kissed my cheek and handed me this note.

Tonight will mark either the end or the fresh start of our relationship, of our friendship...of our love.  

My head is spinning as I stumble over a pumpkin root. What has he been hiding from me?  Is it something bad, or big, or maybe something he is just blowing way out of proportion?  What if the truth pulls us apart even more than the lies?

I shake my head in an attempt to free myself of this anxiety that swells in my stomach like a churning sea.  Whatever it is, I will face it with patience and love, but also self-respect.  I repeat this to myself until before I know it, I am at Hagrids hut.  The walls of his house seemed to mountain over me, it smelled strongly of firewhiskey, burning firewood,rich dirt and sweet pumpkins.  The smell did wonders in calming my mind, but I rather large frown makes its way onto my face as I look around.  There was absolutely no one in sight.

I cuss under my breath.  Maybe this is the wrong place.  Maybe Remus is late?  I chew at my bottom lip and take a few large steps around the hut, my eyes keep going back to analyze the trees of the forest.  The shadows of the forbidden forest seemed to reach for me.  It called for me.  As if it was a whirlpool sucking me in I stepped towards it, staring into the layers of dark, large trees.  

I held my breath as a bush by the very edge of the forest shook, rustling leaves and snapping twigs filled the brisk night air.  I shivered, whether it was from the cold or the sudden fear I was not sure, but I did not have time to debate my feelings because suddenly, a canopy of dark green vines, hanging from the trees shifted.  

Large, cream horns parted the vines and drooping tree leaves, a particular branch got stuck on the intricate swirling of the horns and snapped completely as the creature stepped further from the shadows, revealing itself to me. 

A beautiful Stag stood proud, it’s thick coat shone under the moonlight, it’s chest puffed out at me with pride.  The horns only added to it’s graceful height, but it’s eyes are what truly took my breath away.  Those round, warm eyes they were so human.  So familiar.  Before I could debate it any further, the Stag stamped it’s hoof in the dirt softly, it snorted and white air swirled around it’s soft face.  Only then did I notice the beautiful yellow rose, plucked from a bush and resting at it’s front legs.

I bring a shaky hand to my mouth, barely able to comprehended the wave of emotions that nearly knock me to my feet. This was of Remus’s doing.  But...how?  The Stag inclines it’s head curiously at me to the right, it’s large ears flicking with some sort of impatience, or unrest.  Only then did I fully seem to understand the familiarity of this creature.  

“James?” I gasp.  The Stag seems to stand even taller at me, and...smiles.  With my mouth still hanging wide open I let out a boisterous laugh.  “James!” I almost yell, the Stag snorts again and leans it’s head down, using his nose to push the rose towards me.  The movement doesn’t help me get over my shock, but it stirs me into action.  I begin to cautiously walk forwards, and as I do the Stag er, James, picks up the rose between it’s teeth, when I am close enough he softly nuzzles it into my hand.  I grip it tightly, it has already been de-thorned.

Carefully, with my free hand, I reach it out just a few inches in front of me and James places his Stag head onto my palm.  I pet him softly, he stares up at me and it was as if I was staring at James himself.

“You clever bastard!” I exclaim, I knew how hard becoming Animigus is, but why would he do such a thing?  I was broken out of my trance when the Stag (James) begins to walk, slowly at first, he looks back at me and inclines his head first and it was as if I could just hear him saying, in his cheeky manner ‘Ladies first, of course,”

I swallow thickly and fight another bout of paralyzing shock, and instead smile, following James through the forest.  His hoofs sinking softly into the ground, the sound was methodic and helped with the strange over pour of emotions I’m feeling.

What happened next, is actually quite embarrassing.  It started with a little scamper by my feet.  Considering how far we’ve walked into the forest I was more than a bit concerned for my safety, but the large, strong Stag beside me cast most of my fears to the side.  Then, through a break of moonlight through the trees I saw it.  A large, fat rat!

I screamed so loud, dark ravens flew from their slumbers in the trees.  James beside me stomped his feet, and checked the perimeter with analyzing eyes, searching for the danger.  But they only found the rat.  I never thought a Stag could give such an amused, disappointed expression, yet here I stand.  Clinging to a deers ass for dear life, and he is looking back at me with said expression. My cheeks flush and I let go of his furry back, then the Rat very slowly inches towards me.  

It’s sharp nose lifting and dancing from side to side, it’s soft brown eyes sparkling up at me.  I’d say it even looked a little cute, friendly even.  But what unusual behavior, and what unusual eyes.  It’s tail glowing under the white light like a plump, pink worm...

“Wormtail!” I realize, laughter bubbling from my chest. The Rat lets out a gleeful squeak and James besides me snorts once again, seeming to laugh.  The Rat scurried off into the shadows, and I can’t help but berate myself.  Did I hurt his feelings?

But then he comes bounding back into sight, he stands on his back legs and his little Rat face seemed to glow with excitement as his pink hands unveiled a small little white wildflower.  The same kind Remus would pick for me on walks we took together. My smile only grows bigger as I do a sweet curtsey and pick up the flower mid-bow, lifting it up to my nose as I stand straight again.  

“My apologies, you know I don’t like rats.  But I suppose I’ll have to make an exception for you.” I smile down at him, and he reveals two yellow buck teeth, smiling up at me with as much of a smile any rat can muster.  I fail to hold in my laughter but extend my arm to him, he climbs up it and perches himself on my shoulder.  I hold the two flowers in one hand, and rest my other on James soft shoulder, so I can be led through the dark forest, I knew by know, they were leading me to Remus.

Peter climbs down my other arm and onto James back, then up his head.  I laugh as Peter holds on for deer(hehe I’m funny) life as James jokingly waves his head back and forth, Peter almost falls off but I help him back.  We all seem to laugh in our own ways, when suddenly a loud bark cuts through the sound of laughter and owls and even the rustling of the woods around us.  It was loud and impatient and yet humorous, it reminded me of someone I know well.  I smirk, raising a brow I turn to the equally amused Stag and Rat, James and Peter.

“Wormtail.  Prongs,” I say, motioning to the Stag who only inclines his head again, “And Padfoot.  Let me guess... Sirius is also some animal wandering these woods, finding us by chance?  A wolf, perhaps?  A dog?” They don’t say a thing, they only begin to walk again.  Turning us towards the sound of the echoing bark.

I was on the ground before I knew what was happening.  We’ve walked just a few more minutes and then a cloud of black overcame my sense and tackled me to the floor.  Black, Sirius Black, was a dog and on top of me.  He was barking right by my ear and cuddling me, it wasn’t until two little Rat hands attempted to push his leg that he got off.  

I was laughing uncontrollably, this was all too much.  Too crazy.  I knew they were geniuses, but this... becoming Animagus and though the reason was unclear I could feel it, something to do with Remus.  With Moony.  The nickname had a new meaning to me, and I wasn’t sure what yet, but I was sure I was about to find out.  

Sirius was racing around me in circles as I stood up.  His black tail wagging wildly, and his fur rustled and tossed under the wind.  I wanted to coo and awe, though his eyes were human and mischievous, the rest of him was adorable and strong.  A proud, handsome looking dog.  It was clear, by his behavior, that he was just as excited to reveal this big secret, as I was to know the truth.

“Sirius!  You dog,” I joke, a bad one on my part but he still barked with laughter and I shook my head, taking in the three of them.  This was, Merlin, I didn’t even know what this was other than beyond surprising and impressive.  Shocking.

Suddenly, Sirius makes one last dart behind me, he sends me in a spin and by the time I can control my footing he is back in front of me.  He is sitting on his back legs, front paws up in the air and bent in a cute trick, his ears flopped forward.  Just above his paws, drooping from the jaws of his mouth is a single daffodil.  Daffodils, like the one written about in this favorite poem of mine that Remus would read me on bad days, I Wandered Lonely as A Cloud by William Wordsworth.

I sigh, tilting my head to the left, a soft smile on my lips.  Everything about this was amazing and sweet.  It was amazing that the boys had this whole other life I never knew about, which I’m sure there will be a reasonable explanation for my ignorance because ouch.  But sweet, because this was obviously planned my Remus, but the boys were taking their own time to make it happen.  I bend down and pat Sirius’s head, the only time he lets me touch his hair, I think, almost laughing.  His tail wags as I pluck the flower from his mouth and he lets it fall easily into my hand.

I gather it with my other flowers, now forming a little bouquet and bring the whole lot of them up to my face and inhale. I close my eyes as I smell the sweet and powerful aromas, memories with Remus filled my head, and with it, a warmth filled my chest.  

“I hope this hasn’t been all too much for you.  I thought some truths would be better seen than told,” Remus says, walking up behind me.  I spin around, I didn’t even notice the sound of crunching leaves behind me. But I couldn’t find it in me to speak, the moonlight dancing across Remus’s face, highlighting his eyes, and the soft curves of his lips with the ragged lines of his scars, I was astounded by the boy before me.  Once again entranced.  All the anxiety, all the fear has left me, as I stared at him clad in fancy pants and a button up to match.  

He stops walking, unsure of where he stands with me.  I step towards him, finding some clearing in the haze I begin to speak.

“It’s wonderful.  They’re wonderful,” I say, turning with a thankful smile to the stag, the rat and the dog. They each in turn, show their teeth at me in an attempt of a smile.  I laugh and beside me, Remus does too.  With a nod of his head, they turn their backs on us and leave.  I no longer needed guidance or safety.  Remus stood before me and I felt something that has been missing for the past couple of days.  And even though I was in the middle of the dangerous, forbidden forest, I knew that I was also home.  

“I love the flowers. I must say, this night has already taken the most unexpected turn it could, but the nicknames definitely make more sense,” I attempt a bad joke, a habit of mine in a nerve wracking situation but Remus only seems to grimace slightly, before turning it into a smile, though it was a rather sad one.

“Well, you seem to be taking this well.  Have you figured out mine yet?” He asked, his sad tone surprising me. We were so close his voice dropped low just out of habit it seemed, and because the short distance between us put us in a trance.  I missed him.  I missed him so much my body now seemed to come back from the dead and reach for him, I was alive again with dancing butterflies and buzzing questions.  I glanced down to his lips, before taking a step back. 

“No.  But I can guess.  It makes sense, once every month you seem to leave me.  You change into someone who is distant, someone who doesn't seem to love me,” He steps forwards, looking pained by this realization, but as I speak it becomes clearer to me, but I can’t yet reach the conclusion.

“I will never become a person who doesn’t love you.  I will change and grow but you will be the one thing that remains.  You don’t have to guess anymore, but I want you to know that my love for you will always remain, even if after tonight, we do not,” he speaks with such reverence, like our love was something scared to him and deep down, I knew I felt the same way.  It is my first love, and if I can help it, than he will be my only lover until the day I die.  All I can do is nod as he steps forwards again, I can see a bead of sweat roll down the apple of his cheek, he was about to tell me.  I can feel the shaking of his hands as he places them in mine.

Suddenly, his unbreaking stare leaves me, and in place, find the bright moon.  Twinkling in the sky and illuminating us in its wake.  I understood in that moment, Moony.  A boy mapped with scars.  Moony.  A boy plagued by nightmares, and insecurities.  Moony.  A tough, but oh so scared boy who seemed to hate the very night itself.  Moony.  The boy who changes during the month, and is gone completely on the full moon.  Moony.  Moony, the Werewolf.

I pull on his hands and gather him into my embrace, pulling back only to kiss him sweetly.  The world becomes ours as our lips dance with one another to a song we’ve heard before.  It is the song of him making love to me.  It is the song of the poems he reads me and the flowers he picks.  It is the song of the moons very envy as she watches us together.  The song of lovers.  It moves us.  It moves my hands up his neck and through his hair.  It moves his lips across my cheek and jaw and then down my neck.  It moves the wind, and the trees around us.  It pulls the moans from our mouths and then the confessions.

“My beautiful love,” Remus kisses the words into my skin, up to my lips.  “My only love,” he mumbles into my lips, kissing me softly but his hands are bruising at my hips.  As if I would leave him if he did not hold me close enough and for forever.

“I love you, Remus ‘Moony’ Lupin.  I love all of you and all that you ever will be and all that you have been.” He pulls back from me, his eyes glazed with tears and a softness that makes my heart sing.  He nods, and than he laughs.  A tear falls from his eyes as his head leans back and he laughs, the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.  It was as if all his anxiety, and self-hatred has left him and in their place my words have nestled in.  I love him.  I love him.  I love him.

“I’m a werewolf ya know?” he says, still laughing, he knew I made the connection.  At this point it was pre-caution, I roll my eyes and kiss him again.  The world is forgotten as we kiss, as we rejoin as one and as lovers.  I pull back and softly wipe away his tears.

“I know,” I whisper into his lips, he smiles, giving me a soft kiss.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Remus?” I ask, pulling away from him.  He frowns now, his cheeks red with blush, and lips to match.

“I thought I’d lose you forever.  That you’d think I was some monster, or- or beast.  You always looked at me like I was the world, and I was terrified one day you’d see the real me, and just- well, stop loving me altogether.” While he speaks his eyes still glitter with the promise of tears, and my heart sinks at his words.

“I think I understand your anxiety about it.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be.  But I would never stop loving you for such a thing, merlin, I don’t think anything could stop me from loving you.  I never want you to feel the need to hide from me again, okay?” Remus nods into my hands, I still haven't moved them since I wiped away his tears, it seemed like more keeps falling each time.  

“The boys became Animigmus to help with my full moons.  It can get pretty bad… but ever since they have come along things really got better, really they did.” he adds when seeing my sad facial expression.  My heart felt broken all over again at just the thought of Remus being in pain, alone and suffering.  I swore in that moment, I’d do anything in this world to help make things better for him.  I nod my head.  He continues.

“And Lucy, her older sister is a werewolf.  She figured out that I was one pretty quickly, she said I could speak to her about it all, and that she could help somehow.  It was nothing more, she just let me complain and even write some letter to her sister.  I never even thought of Lucy like the way I think of you.  She was always just a friend, but that remains no more.  To hell with her,” he says.  He can’t stop smiling, a real, golden smile.  There was nothing holding him back, I could just tell he felt so much lighter.  I took his hand and wordlessly led him to sit on the grass with me.  We laid shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the stars together.  

He told me in depth about how he was bitten as a child, about how it changed his life.  Then when the boys told him they were becoming Animgus for him and all the little moments and adventures they’ve had since.  He didn’t sugar coat a thing, he didn’t lie.  He was bearing his soul before me for the first time, without any thin veil holding us back and I’ve never felt closer to him.  It was well past curfew by the time I felt satisfied with everything he’s told me, I felt both heavy with this knowledge and yet free.  I felt included and like I truly knew Remus, and I still did love him.  More than ever, I love him.

We laid in silence for some time, my head has moved to lay on his chest and I can hear the steady, warm beating of his heart.

“Can you hear it?” he asks, out of the blue.  I strain my ears to listen to the forest around us, I lift my head slightly and he laughs.  “No. My heart, can you hear it?” I lean back into him and let out a little laugh myself.

“Oh.  Yes,” I smile, “I can hear it.”

“Good.  It beats for you.”mhe says, I look up at him only to find that he has already been looking at me.  His eyes soft, and smile warm, his heart steady under the palm of my hand and loud within the stillness of the night.  It beats for you.  His words echoed in my head and I couldn’t help myself, I lean forward and press my lips against him.  I could kiss him forever.  I could be with him here like this forever, alone and in love, honest and unafraid. 

 I understood a lot of things that night, more than just about who Remus was and the secrets he has been hiding.  More than the truths that he bared and the love that we had. I understood how after all this time of separation and uncertainty.  After exhausting ourselves in a sea of sorrow and questions, we have finally found our peace.  I have found my happiness.  And I realized something rather important.  Rapture is a boy.  Rapture is love.

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[alpacaparkaseok]

7 Secrets <pt. 6>

GENRE: Soulmate!au BTS!

WARNINGS: maybe a bit of anxiety

WORD COUNT: 5446

I rewrote this part a few times, I wanted to get it just right. I hope you enjoy! Stuff is about to go down lol 

**Song rec for this chapter: “So Will I” by Ben Platt 

Thursday begins with a bang.

More specifically, it begins with the sound of Ichika falling off of her bed from the upper floor, and me waking up at the sound and wondering for half a moment what I’ve got going on today.

Ignorance is bliss.

The house is oddly quiet, and I lay there for a lot longer than I thought I would be able to. I eye my shopping bag at the foot of my bed, eager to get ready. Like Himari said last night: we’re going to look good today.

It isn’t until a light knock sounds at my door that I realize I’ve been dozing off again. Ichika peeks inside, her face lighting up in a grin when she sees my bedhead.

“Good morning,” she chimes before padding over and flinging herself onto my bed. We lay there for a long while, quietly chatting about the day and how we’re going to get ready and style our hair.

Next comes Aera, her bedhead even more impressive than mine. She doesn’t say a word, simply sliding in under the covers.

Minsuh and Seohyun appear later on. My bed isn’t nearly big enough to accommodate us all but I don’t mention it, opting to bask in the lazy morning that feels like the calm before the storm.

It’s nearly noon by the time Himari and Kyung-soon show up, the two of them cracking up at the scene.

“Wait, let me grab my phone!” Himari runs to get her phone and snaps a photo of the five of us buried on my bed.

“Alright,” Kyung-soon sighs, a light in her eyes that I haven’t seen there before. “Let’s eat. We can’t be hangry when we meet our soulmates.”

It’s like she said the magic word, because soon enough my room is empty with only Himari left behind.

“Wow, they only wanted me for my bed. How rude,” I joke, earning a light laugh. “Are you ready for today?”

Himari smirks at me. “You know, I’ve had three years to prepare but somehow this morning I woke up feeling just as unprepared and giddy as I did three years ago. Isn’t that strange?”

She slings her arm around me and we make our way downstairs to the chaotic kitchen. “No, I get what you mean. I feel really chill right now, but it’s like I can feel the storm coming.” A couple of the other girls hear my comment and are quick to agree.

Seohyun lets out a shaky breath, the girl showing the first signs of nervousness. She says something that surprises me a bit, seeing how she’s always been the most vocal about her soulmate. “Well, I guess that no matter what happens today, everything will be alright. At the end of the day, we’ll still have each other.” She smiles at us as she takes a bite of her toast. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“Aw, so sentimental, Seohyunie.” Aera coos.

“Yeah, you’re not allowed to get us all emotional this early in the day.” Ichika says.

“It’s literally already the afternoon,” Seohyun fires back, her cheeks red.

“Well, bicker all you want, but I’m going to go get ready!” Minsuh has already devoured her breakfast, the excitement prominent on her face. I’m glad to see that her worries from the other night have subsided.

“Minsuh!” Himari shouts after the fleeing girl.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll pay for your meals for a month if you wear your pajamas to meet Jungkook!”

“Not a chance!”

↔

5 pm has come all too soon.

I fidget in my room as I take one last look in the full-length mirror. My hair falls around me in long curls; the time it took to perfect them definitely paid off. There’s a bit of rain falling, so I don my new trenchcoat in preparation for the cooler weather.

I smile at my reflection, amazed at the power a beautiful (but cozy) outfit has on my mood. My reflection portrays a young woman who looks like she’s ready to take on the world.

I only hope that confidence doesn’t abandon me.

It’s currently 4:45, the van should be here in 15 minutes. I take the moment of peace to close the door to my room and settle down on my bed, hesitating before picking a song to listen to.

I pluck up the courage and click on the song. “Forever Rain” from Namjoon’s playlist “Mono” plays, the light pitter patter of the rain from outside creating a surreal atmosphere.

Closing my eyes, I allow the song to wrap around me. Namjoon’s soothing voice both calms me and makes my heart race as I wonder for the fiftieth time today what he’s doing right now.

As the song comes to a close, I open my eyes and take a deep breath.

“I can do this.”

With the final boost of courage, I double check that I have everything I’ll need (which is really just myself, purse, and phone) and head downstairs. Kyung-soon is already down there, standing by the window in the living room as she cranes her neck to see if the van is coming. She looks beautiful, the simple sweater and jeans only bringing more attention to her delicate features. Her long black hair is lightly curled, and her berry-colored lips turn up in a nervous smile when I enter the room.

“You look amazing,” she says. “Seriously.”

“You do too, Soon-ah. Absolutely stunning. I’m glad that I’m not the only one who went with a more casual outfit. We’ll have to stick together.” I wink at her, and she laughs before turning back around to look out at the street.

Himari enters the room, the queen of casual style that she somehow manages to pull off like she’s at the red carpet. She carries a jacket in hand, prepared for the rainfall.

“Hey,” she greets me. “Looking good.”

“Right back at ya.” Himari stands beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. She’s unusually touchy today, no doubt due to the nerves. I don’t mind the extra contact, it helps to soothe my own nerves.

“Are the vans here yet?” Seohyun lights up the room in her yellow skirt, another queen of casual style. “Wow, you were right Himari. We do look amazing today.”

“We do, don’t we? No, no vans. They should be here any minute. Do you have everything?”

“Yeah, ready to go. I’ll go check that the others are ready.”

Soon enough Seohyun returns with Minsuh, Aera, and Ichika. All three look amazing, Aera’s professional background in design and fashion showing through as she is definitely the most well-dressed out of all of us. Minsuh looks adorable, her jean skirt making her look more youthful than me. Ichika reminds me of Taehyung, her layered top bringing out the artsy vibe she always has.

“Oh, oh!” Kyung-soon looks like it’s Christmas morning. “I think that’s the van, coming down the street!”

We all rush over to the window, honing in on the large black van that makes its way down to the apartment. It comes to a stop outside, and a man in a black suit and earpiece steps out.

“Wow, I feel like we just became famous,” Minsuh whispers.

“Alright, does everybody have everything?” I pipe up. The last thing we need is to forget something important. Everybody double checks, and by some miracle we’re ready. Just in time. A knock sounds on our door.

“You get it, Beth.” Himari nudges me.

“How did I know you’d say that?” I open the door, the bodyguard waiting for me outside with his umbrella up and ready to shield us from the rain.

“Hello everybody, Bang PD sent me. Are you ready to go?” I nod, my stomach doing flips. “Alright. I’ll escort you to the car, go ahead and step under my umbrella.” With my head in the clouds I step out, remembering at the last second to tell the other girls to lock the door behind them. I double check my purse, making sure I have the house key.

Before I know it all seven of us are packed into the van, and we’re off. Ichika sits on my left, holding my hand so tightly I think I’ll lose feeling in it before long. On my right is Kyung-soon, her arm looped through mine.

Our chauffeur is kind enough to play some music so we don’t drown in the heavy silence. None of us say much, each too lost in their own world to focus on a conversation. With each passing block my heart pounds faster and faster, and I fight against the tears that are pricking my eyes. I don’t want to cry. I can’t cry yet, but my inner whirlpool of emotions threatens to take over.

It’s already been a long day. And now, we’re just getting started.

What only feels like five minutes turns out to be thirty, because we’re suddenly pulling up to the BigHit building.

I manage to croak something out before we come to a complete stop, speaking for the first time the entire drive. “I’ll hold your purse while you go run laps, Kyung-soon.”

We laugh a bit, easing the tension. “How kind of you.” We begin to pile out of the van, and we’re escorted to a side door by the kind bodyguard. In a blur of movement we’re inside the building and led to an elevator. It’s only when we’re passing the fourth floor that I even realize that Ichika is still holding my hand.

“You alright?” I whisper to her, even though everyone can hear me in the small space of the elevator.

She looks at me, her eyes wide with anticipation and the anxiety that comes with it. “What was the code word for if we think we’re going to pass out?”

Aera’s voice pipes us from behind us, I can hear the grin in her voice. “It’s ‘holy cow’, isn’t it Beth?”

I can’t help but laugh, the ridiculousness of the entire situation making everything funnier. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Ichika squeezes my hand again. “Well, holy cow Beth. Holy cow is pretty much the only thing I’m thinking right now.”

“Are you telling me that you’re not even thinking about Taehyung?” I raise my eyebrows at her, the teasing making me feel better. Less likely to throw up, at least.

“Oh, shut up.” Ichika rolls her eyes, but the nerves seem to lessen a bit at the banter.

The doors slide open and the bodyguard ushers us out. “Alright, right there is Mr. Bang’s office. He should be inside waiting for you.” He points out a door just down the hall.

I make my way to the door on shaking legs, unsure of what to expect. Surely the boys aren’t inside the office, right? No, it’s way too small to fit all of us in there at the same time. That would just be cruel.

A quick glance over my shoulder shows everybody else trailing behind me. Himari gives me a thumbs up, prompting me onward. I level with a look that says ‘why must I do everything’ before I knock on the door.

A few seconds pass and then the door is swinging inward and Mr. Bang’s smiling face greets me.

“Well hello! I’ve been waiting for you all!” His eyes sweep over us, doing a mental count. “I’m glad you could make it. Come inside.”

The inside of Mr. Bang’s office is filled with photos, awards, and a leather couch with a few chairs. I all but collapse into one of the chairs while everybody else chooses their seats. Nobody speaks, but I notice them looking to me, Mr. Bang included. Clearly he’s waiting for my usual sarcastic remark.

“Well, here we are.” I say, struggling to even think straight enough to come up with a decent comment. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

Mr. Bang leans back in his chair, observing us. “Let’s get right down to it. There’s a lot we need to go over today, some can be done now with just the seven of you, the rest will have to be done with the boys.” My heart skips a beat at the mention of our soulmates. For some reason I’m surprised that we are actually going to meet them today. Maybe part of me simply expected a meeting with Mr. Bang. At least I didn’t buy a new outfit for nothing, right?

“Ok,” I nod slowly as though to clear the fog in my head. Right now I’ve got tunnel vision and I know I won’t be able to retain much information. “That’s fine. What do we need to know?”

“First off, are you all doing alright? Breathe. I can tell you that the boys are just as nervous as you are, so just breathe and try to relax. Today is meant to be enjoyed, and I promise that my staff and I have tried to make this day as calm and normal as can be.”

I almost laugh, wondering what part of normal includes a bodyguard and meeting the most famous band on the planet. I guess we’re playing by Bang PD’s rules now, though.

“The boys are nervous?” Minsuh pipes up, sheepishly looking down at her shoes.

Mr. Bang chuckles, nodding his head. “Extremely. I nearly had to give Jungkook a paper bag earlier because he was so close to hyperventilating.”

This merits a laugh and a sigh of relief from everyone, especially Minsuh as she blushes thinking about her soulmate.

“Anyways, I’ll try to get through this so you can meet the boys.” He now has everyone’s full attention. “I first wanted to thank you all for being so patient over the past three years. I know this hasn’t been easy, and you’ve had to sacrifice a lot of things. You’ve handled yourselves with grace and dignity. Even without the soulmate tests confirming your bonds with the boys, I would have been sure that you are meant to be simply by observing you over the years. I cannot thank you enough.”

He smiles at us, an adoring look in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Kyung-soon mutters.

“Now we’ve finally made it. It’s been a long journey, and this may seem sudden, but I believe that the timing is right. Today there will be a couple of doctors on hand who specialize in soulmate bonding, as these first meetings can be draining on both your emotions and energy. Don’t be afraid to ask for a breather if all of this is too overwhelming. There is no shame in that.”

My stomach turns to rocks hearing that. I’m reminded of my conversation just a couple of days ago with Aera. If meeting my soul sisters, who I’m not directly bonded to was so intense, what will this be like? Namjoon is only one person, whereas I have six soul sisters.

I voice my thoughts aloud. “I understand that this will be more...intense than it was meeting the girls. Will it really be that bad?”

Bang PD smiles at my question. “That bad or that good?” A blush creeps up my cheeks. “It will definitely be much more intense than your first meeting with the girls. Direct bonds are powerful. There is also the fact that you will be indirectly bonded with the other boys, like you were with the girls. Not quite as intense as the soul sister bond, but similar to it since they are your soulmate’s soul brothers.”

I exchange looks with Himari. This is news to us. It makes sense, and I’m happy about the fact that I’ll be gaining a lot of new friends today.

“Due to the fact you’ll be going through various levels of bonding today, we have taken precautions. You each will first meet your soulmates privately, and given sufficient time to bond and recover.” My stomach grows more and more uncertain as Mr. Bang explains the process. “After that, each individual couple will meet a different couple one at a time until you’ve all finished meeting. Like I said, doctors will be there to support you and we encourage you to take a break if you’re too exhausted. However, I’ve been told by the specialists that your soulmate will be the best support to you. So don’t be afraid to rely on each other. Understood?”

Mr. Bang smiles as us like he’s suggesting a place to grab lunch, not explaining the details of soulmate bonding. I give him a weak smile in return, a couple of the others grunting in acknowledgement.

“Wonderful.” Mr. Bang stands up from his seat, the simple action making my heart begin to pound again as I know that can only mean one thing. “Let’s get to it. I hope you don’t mind, but I discussed this with the boys earlier and asked them what order they would like to go in. Surprise, surprise: they’re going in order of age. That means that Jin and his soulmate will go first.”

I turn to look at Kyung-soon, who looks deathly pale. I wonder if the first thing she’ll say to Jin is a string of curse words for making her go first. Better first than last. Poor Minsuh will have to wait a long time for her turn, only making the nerves worse.

“Well, shall we?” Kyung-soon has gotten a hold of herself again, rising from the couch and smoothing out her sweater. “I’ve got to give my soulmate a piece of my mind for making me go first.”

Bang PD bursts out into laughter, having never seen the feistier side of the normally docile Kyung-soon. “Oh, I have a feeling the two of you will get along great.”

↔

I feel like I’m at the waiting room in the doctor’s office. Kyung-soon just entered a room at the end of the hallway, waving at us as her eyes lit up with that same light I noticed earlier today. I can only pray that I’ll be just as good at masking my nerves.

Seohyun paces in front of where we sit, awaiting her turn. We were told that we would each be given about 5 minutes of initial bonding before they would clear the room for the next pair. Apparently after the first five minutes the intensity starts to wear off, and then each couple is escorted to a recovery room on the same floor somewhere.

My blood is humming in my veins and I can practically feel Namjoon, wherever he is. Probably just on the other side of this floor. I fidget in my seat, desperate to just get it over with but dreading it at the same time. In my head “Forever Rain” is echoing, and I can’t tell if that’s helping or not.

5 minutes pass. Seohyun is waved over by a friendly looking doctor who pokes her head out the door.

“You’re Min Yoongi’s soulmate?” The doctor asks, her smile unwavering as Seohyun prances down the hall.

“I am, yes.” She waves at us. “See you on the other side!” I can hear the shaking in her voice, but she looks excited. We wave back, calling out words of encouragement.

Himari stands up, stretching. “Do I look alright?” She’s up next. Just a few more minutes before she disappears through that door.

I nod. “You look perfect. How are you feeling?”

“Like I could run a mile in 3 minutes flat but also like I might throw up at any second. You?”

“Pretty much the same. Not sure I could do 3 minutes though, maybe 4.”

Himari laughs, fiddling with her shirt and making sure it’s tucked in correctly. I stand up, helping her in the back where she can’t see.

“Everything will be perfect,” I reassure her, hoping that my smile looks the part. She sighs, wrapping me up in a hug. I’ve received a lot of those since I landed in Seoul.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Suddenly it’s been five minutes, although I have a sneaking suspicion it’s been less. Leave it to Seohyun to bond quicker and more efficiently than anyone else.

“Gotta go,” Himari salutes us as she makes her way to the door where the same doctor awaits her. I hear her voice as she confirms that she’s Jung Hoseok’s soulmate, but it sounds distant and quiet as the din in my head turns up to full volume.

5 minutes.

I remain where I was before, staring at the wall as I sway from one side to another. It’s so loud in my head, “Forever Rain” is on repeat and I swear my heart is trying to break out of my chest.

“...ok?”

I blink, looking at Aera who has concern written all over her face.

“Did you say something to me?”

“I just asked if you were going to be ok.”

I swallow heavily. “Y-yeah,” I manage to get out. “I’ll be fine. Just freaking out a little bit.”

“Ok,” Aera doesn’t look convinced.

“Do I look alright?” I fidget with my necklace.

“Bethany,” Aera’s voice cuts through all the noise in my head. “You are absolutely gorgeous. You’re also the most courageous, capable person I know. You can do this.”

I can do this. I think of Namjoon, so close by. We can do this.

“Bethany?” The door at the end of the hallway opens up, the doctor peeking outside.

I look back at Aera, and she offers me a thumbs up. Minsuh and Ichika smile up at me, words of encouragement spilling from their lips.

“That’s me.”

“Kim Namjoon is your soulmate, correct?” The doctor’s kind eyes are assessing me as I walk over on surprisingly steady legs.

“Yes,” I nod. My eyes focus on the doctor’s name tag as she gently ushers me inside the room. It says her name is Dr. Kim, which must be a good sign, right?

“Ok, Bethany. How are you feeling?”

I nod, the nervousness must be written all over my face so I don’t try to hide it. “I’m fine, I think. Just a little nervous.

Dr. Kim smiles at me. “That’s completely normal. If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

I’m about to thank her when another voice interrupts my thoughts.

“Oh,” it comes out as a gasp, and my head feels like it’s swimming through concrete as I turn to look who it is. Even though I already know. I’ve heard that voice countless times.

Kim Namjoon is already looking at me by the time I drag my eyes to his face. I hardly register Dr. Kim’s nudge as I start moving forward, a male doctor on the other side of the room watching us intently.

Namjoon looks how I feel- struck by lightning. His eyes are alight with something akin to adoration and curiosity, and I can feel my heart skip a beat as I realize that look is for me.

He takes longer strides than me, but he stops just a step away from me. I take a moment to take in his appearance. The denim jeans he’s wearing nearly steal all of my attention before I manage to look up at his shirt, a simple white button down.

Perfect is the only word I can think of as I finally look back up at him. Once again, his eyes are already on mine and I jump at little at the sudden eye contact. His mouth opens, another little gasp leaving it.

His cheeks are flushed when he finally speaks.

“I-can I…” He stops, eyes drifting to his feet before looking back up at me again. “Can I just hug you?”

I nearly sob at his sweet question, and I silently step forward to press myself into my soulmate’s chest. He reacts immediately, his arms wrapping around me like a starving man. And it’s there, as my head nestles into his neck, that I feel the bond.

Namjoon holds me steady as what I imagine what lightning feels like courses through my body. With it comes a flurry of emotions, each one passing so quickly that I hardly have enough time to identify it before another comes. A pang of sadness hits me, and I can tell Namjoon feels it too because his already impossibly tight grip grows tighter. He rests his cheek on my head, and I nearly melt at the touch. With it the sadness fades, a calming balm coursing through us. Love, joy so tangible I nearly reach out to touch it, giddiness and trust wrap themselves around us.

By the time everything subsides, a single thread of the bond hangs invisible between us that I can almost tug it. I feel like I’m coming up for air after being submerged in water for too long.

We separate as a final shock hits us, both of us panting even as we wince at the loss of contact.

Dr. Kim and the male doctor make their way over to us, Dr. Kim attaching a blood pressure cuff to my arm before I even realize what’s going on. I notice the other doctor doing the same to Namjoon.

Namjoon sneaks a glance over at me, his cheeks still a deep red. My mind is still spinning and trying to understand what just happened. And the fact that I’m literally 5 feet away from my soulmate.

“Are you ok?” I flush as Namjoon asks me the question, Dr. Kim grinning up at me knowingly.

I nod. “Y-yeah. I think so. Are you?”

“Feeling great,” he responds even as he glares down at his blood pressure cuff. My eyes trail down to it too, before I decide against it as his bicep tends to make my giddiness grow. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.” He gives a sheepish grin, his dimple just showing up.

I return it, and his eyes drift down to my mouth. “I’m Bethany.” I chew on my lip for a second, my blush only growing stronger as I watch Namjoon force his eyes away from my mouth and red color his cheeks. Good to know I’m not the only one struggling. “You can call me Beth, though.”

Before we can continue our small talk, the cuffs are released. “Ok you two, feeling alright?” The male doctor asks us. We both nod. “Great. I know it’s intense and you might be feeling a little weak, but don’t be afraid to rely on each other. Namjoon, go ahead and hold Bethany’s hand while we take you to the recovery room. It will help to steady you both.”

Namjoon looks at me hesitantly, clearly embarrassed, but he slowly extends his hand out to me. So slowly that it looks like he’s trying to not scare away a skittish animal.

His hand engulfs my own, and the doctor was right. I feel much better already, more steady. Namjoon gives my hand a squeeze, looking down at me. I nearly swoon, a giggle escaping me at the situation.

“What are you laughing about?”

Hearing him speaking to me only makes me laugh again. “I just can’t believe how freaked out I was before.”

“Oh, me too.” My surprise must be evident at his confession. Was he really nervous too? “I don’t think I’ve slept for the past three days.”

We’re led out of the room to another room with a couch and some water and snacks. Just before the doctor leaves I remember to ask him something.

“Excuse me?” Namjoon grins at my politeness, not releasing my hand as he grabs water and offers it to me.

“Yes?”

“How long did we take?”

The doctor smiles. Everybody is smiling, me included. How could I not?

“Do you have a bet going on with the others or something? I hate to break it to you, but you guys are dead last. The bonding lasted six minutes.” My eyes widen. It certainly didn’t feel that long.

“How long did Seohyun take? She’s with Min Yoongi.”

“Oh, yeah, how long did they take? They were fast.” Namjoon mumbles by my side.

The doctor chuckles at us. “They only took 2 minutes and 42 seconds.” With that he leaves us alone in the room.

“Wow,” I whisper, sipping on my water. Namjoon still holds my hand, his fingers interlocked with mine. I try and fail to not let the small point of contact take over my senses. “I should have known Seohyun would be quick. She was by far the most prepared out of all of us.”

“And you were the least prepared.”

It isn’t a question, and I glare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Namjoon laughs as I yank my hand from his, feigning offense. I collapse on the couch and he follows after me.

“I watched the docufilm,” Namjoon explains, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. I groan, hiding behind my hands.

“Like, all of it? Everything over the past three years?”

He chuckles, growing more comfortable by the second. “Yep. Everything.” His dimple reappears and I admire him from behind my hands. “I’m just glad you didn’t go to Antarctica.”

I laugh, pointing at him accusingly. “So you were watching the Facetime a couple of nights ago!” Namjoon has the decency to look flustered. “How dare you?”

“We-I just-” he stutters, “Can you blame me?”

I assess him from where he sits a respectable distance away. I still hardly even know the man, but I already know I could never harbor a grudge. Not that he needs to know that right now. I get up, heading over to the snack table again before deciding on a bag of chips. Now I’m starving, after hardly being able to eat over the past couple of days. Namjoon sits in silence, awaiting my response. I almost laugh again at the whole situation, until I realize that we are very much alone in this room. I shake off the tension I feel, taking a deep breath to calm down.

“I was freaking out the entire call,” I admit, settling back down on the couch. “I kept thinking I could hear people in the background, but I thought that I must be going crazy. So I definitely blame you.” I open the bag, offering some to Namjoon. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of his smile. “Now tell me. What was your favorite part of the docufilm?”

Namjoon ponders for a second, the red coming back to his cheeks. I wonder what he’s thinking. He finally settles on something, his face going serious as he looks back at me. I find it hard to breathe beneath his gaze.

“My favorite episode,” I had no idea they broke the film up into episodes, “was when you got lost at the night market.”

He doesn’t crack his serious expression, and I get up and move as far away from him as possible, settling for a chair on the far side of the room. If he’s seen all the episodes, he must know how much the others make fun of me for that night. Evil man, I think even as I fight the grin on my face.

Nearly thirty minutes later Dr. Kim knocks on the door before entering, finding Namjoon mid-sentence about how I obviously tried to hide my face from the cameras most of the time and how the boys would make fun of him because of it.

We look up at her from the couch to see her looking pleased. (Namjoon dragged me back to sit by him about fifteen minutes ago when I was accusing him of making me wait for three years, the bold action making him obviously embarrassed. His excuse was that he felt like he had to yell at me from across the room, but I think there might have been more to it.)

“Looks like you two are doing well.” Dr. Kim observes, jotting something down on her clipboard. “Ready to meet the others?” I jump up from the couch, Namjoon observing me with an amused look in his eyes. It’s not everyday I get to meet all of BTS in one day.

“Let’s go!” It’s my turn to drag Namjoon, tugging him out the door. When we leave the room I go to remove my hand from his, the intensity of the bond having faded and my awkwardness has returned full-force. He doesn’t let me, though. Instead he intertwines his fingers through mine, refusing to look at me when I looked up at him with my eyebrows raised.

Following the sound of several voices from up ahead, my soulmate and I go to meet the rest of BTS.

Previous - Next

Get ready to meet the rest of the boys! It’ll be fun, I promise. Remember that the taglist is open for whoever wants to join, just let me know! Thanks guys!

@mae-musicbitch @taylorroe3​ @heartblackerthancoffee​

[stevenbasic]

”So, tell me how it went..!” Melissa asked, tucking her fit, bare legs underneath herself on the white leather couch in her new office, attentively turning to me as she sat up. She’d summoned me to her office to have our Friday coffee, and had made us each a cup. Dressed especially informal for our “casual Fridays” in a v-neck green tee and girlish black short-shorts, her figure was on particularly luscious display today and I’d already caught myself staring...twice. “I want to hear everything!”

She was, of course, talking about my long-overdue meeting with her friend Abby, a sales rep from Evolution, a local pharmaceutical company intent on getting my practice involved in a clinical trial of their new product. Melissa, since her start as our new Office Manager, had been unusually invested in setting up a meeting between the two of us; they’d been friends for years, I gathered, and this was a favor to Abby. Little did I know that this favor would quickly spiral into a whirlpool that would threaten to drag me under and drown not only me but...well, read on. 

I took a look into my “World’s Best Boss” mug - a gift from her. Far too much milk, I saw...but I think I was starting to like it that way. “Okay, uh,” I began, taking my first sip, “yesterday afternoon…”

...

…I had just escorted Mr. Kowalczyk to the desk, pushing him along in his wheelchair, helping him start to check out, when Aubrey had given me the message. 

“There’s a sales rep waiting for you in your office,” she told me, eyes sparkling. Aubrey - a slim, elegant brunette - had looked especially pretty yesterday, maybe done her hair differently. We were trying her out at her new position as front desk supervisor, and she already seemed to be taking to the job well. 

“The one from...uh...Melissa’s friend?” I asked, a bit confused, “Abby?” Mr Kowalczyk, hearing the name, asked about Melissa - as he had three times earlier. “She’s off today, she’s not here,” I reminded him, now for the fourth time today, as his wife appeared alongside us. Melissa had this Thursday off, apparently for some doctors’ appointments of her own. 

“Yes, Abby,” Aubrey answered, turning her attention, for the moment, to our patient’s wife, “Co-pay is ten dollars, Mrs Kawalski...”

“That’s Kowal-check,” the elderly woman corrected, narrowing her eyes and apparently none-too-pleased. 

“That wasn’t supposed to be until tomorrow,” I commented, immediately annoyed but feeling my pulse start to quicken, “I was going to sit down with her on Friday…”. I signed Mr. Kowalczyk’s prescription. 

“It got moved up,” Aubrey told me, taking a credit card from my patient’s wife, “she’s here now…”

Why was I so nervous?

“Thank you, Mrs. Kawasaki…”

...

“...yes, sorry, I should have told you myself,” Melissa apologized, biting her lower lip, after a sip of coffee, “but it was a last minute thing. And I was still at my appointment when I heard…”

“Well, yeah, it’s okay…” I replied, eyes dropping to her still-tan thighs as she brushed at them with well-manicured fingers, tips painted a mint green to match her top, “it was just a surprise, is al-“”

“Isn’t she so pretty..??” Melissa asked, and urged me to continue my story…

...

“Thank you sooooo much for meeting with me,” Abby had greeted, immediately standing up from the chair in front of my desk as I entered the room. She stepped to shake my hand, “I’m Abby, from Evolution Pharmaceuticals.”

“Sure, sure, no problem,” I replied, noticing the confidence in her grip and the dimples in her smile. I recognized her right away from a picture Melissa had sent, early on. Maybe in her early thirties, Abby was an attractive person; lots of sales reps are. My guard was up, as it always was in these sort of sales meetings, but something in the sparkle of her eyes struck me...and her figure was nothing to sneeze at, either. I found my attitude softening already. “Melissa’s friend, right?” She had medium-length, medium-brown hair, and a nice tan complexion. Nice hips.

I guess I could give her a few minutes.

“Yes!” she answered, as we both moved to take our seats. Abby was dressed smartly, in a grey pencil skirt and sharp white blouse. “She and I met at Evolution, at our clinic, earlier this year. She’s great, so fun...”

Wait what?

“I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you,” Abby continued, tucking her skirt beneath herself as she sat, pulling some slick promotional material from the fashionable leather bag beside her, “but I just want to introduce our product, go over some of the opportunities with you…”

What followed was both the typical sales presentation I’d seen a hundred times from different reps and at the same time one of the weirdest things I’d ever heard. From the emails and propaganda with which the company had flooded me over the past weeks, I’d read - or at least skimmed through - lots of it before. They claimed to have developed a novel general-health supplement for women; the science was still sort of hush-hush and what they could reveal was frankly a bit baffling. Normally I wouldn’t touch this sort of crap with a ten-foot pole, it all sounded so fishy at first. They were touting ambiguous improvements in mentation, endurance, strength, a whole host of other things. But I didn’t want to disappoint Melissa and, well, while I knew that the “Lean In” grants we were scheduled to receive - and frankly were going to be dependent on - were tied to us supporting female-led businesses, it soon became clear to me in talking with Abby that, um...we almost didn’t have a choice. I was starting to get the feeling that if we didn’t start working with Evolution, there’d be no money from Lean In. And so, becoming nervous, I was slowly forced to pay a bit more attention as we sat across my desk from one another, ten minutes or so into it. I was beginning to realize...we actually needed them.

But I still definitely had my doubts, my reservations, a whole load of concerns. How safe was this going to be?  “And these patients,” I asked, “for the trial...the subjects. They would come from…?” It was a reasonable question. My practice was geriatric, and this was a product for younger women.

“We’d take care of that, we’d bring them in, we have a whole list of gir-...of women ready,” Abby assured me, her disarming smile doing its job, “We wouldn’t need to involve your current patients at all.” She watched me nodding, knowing she had made more than a bit of an inroad with me. “In fact, you wouldn’t even have to do much,” she continued, proceeding confidently, “we’d supply you with the new staff you’d need, we’d bring in all the supplies and equipment. We’d hook you up with our trial coordinator from corporate, she’ll organize everything. You’d just end up doing some video chats with her once in awhile.” At that Abby smiled strangely.  “Her name's Brenda, you’ll like her.”

“It all sounds, uh, umm…”

Sitting there, at my desk, part of me couldn’t believe I was even considering this, still even talking to this woman. That part of me, though, wasn’t seeing what another small part of me was seeing - that the power dynamic in this conversation, between Abby and I, had gradually shifted. It was her, now, who held the upper hand. She represented the money, she was the big player. I was really the small fish here.  The only thing that kept me from feeling like a nobody was knowing that my practice was somehow important to them, that they wanted me for some reason.

Why exactly was that?

“We’re a small company, but it’s not just money from Lean In that we come to the table with,” Abby continued, eyes sparkling, “we’d been bought a few years ago by a big, international group, so now we’re just ripe with resources. We can help you through tough times like you’ve been having, business down, income fading-.”

“Well, now,” I interjected, my pride rankled, “I wouldn’t say that…” I mean, I wouldn’t say it, but it was totally true. But how did she know all this?? Had she and Melissa been talking abou-

“Oh, shh, you don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s okay,” she said, “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, we understand. We know your practice is shrinking, but your needs are growing. And that’s why we’re growing too, so we can help nurture you, provide for you.”

This was humiliating as fuck but...why was I getting hard? Yes, Abby was attractive, blouse just a little too tight, chest just a little bigger than necessary. She was pretty, yes. No, actually...now with all the power in the room centered on her, with the strength she represented, she was downright hot. And the scenario she was laying out for me, this relationship I’d have with her big, female corporation? It felt positively...maternal. And, it was beginning to feel like a foregone conclusion, that I would be taken under their skirts. But again - why was I getting hard?

“Evolution will take good care of you,” Abby assured me, her voice growing subtly more tender, as if reading my thoughts, “and as we get bigger, and grow, we’ll carry you along with us. We can tuck you in to our...corporate structure. You’ll be safe, there, close to us.”

If I hadn’t noticed the outline of her bra beneath her blouse before, I was noticing it now. 

“Would you like that?” she asked, probingly. 

“Uhh…”

“We’d make sure you don’t get left behind, as the world changes,” she continued, “because the world is changing, Dr. J, and we think our product is going to help women succeed in it. Don’t you want to be there with us?”

“Uhhhh…”

Seeing my anxiety starting to get the better of me, Abby smiled disarmingly. “You probably need to talk to Melissa about it, before deciding on the trial,” she began again, “right?”

Oh my god I couldn’t believe it, how demeaning that was, but I knew it was my out - for now. ”yeah I guess I probably should…” I said, weakly…

“Of course you do…” Abby smiled. 

…

“So…<nnngh>...” Melissa all but groaned, inching closer to me on the couch, “you wanted my approval, first?” 

As I had recounted my story, described the meeting to her, Melissa had slowly, gradually, become visibly more excited, completely engaged. She’d asked me to repeat details, recount conversation, all the while gazing intently into my face and moving intimately closer to me on the soft leather couch in her office. Her curves, her larger body had me slowly retreating, backing up as best I could. An arm rested on the back of the couch behind me.

“w-well I, uh…” I stammered, eyes dropping again for a furtive glance at her thighs, hips, her tiny waist. I was, at this point, already overtaken by the scent of her perfume. “it’s uh-“ 

“It’s like you’re recognizing you need my help, isn’t it?” she asked, a strange huskiness in her voice, “Isn’t it?? That you have an easier time when I make the decisions for you??”

I couldn’t say anything, looking at her. I was tongue-tied realizing, in that moment, how assertive women now framed the borders of my life, affected my daily choices. And they were, if anything, all pushing me into the clutches of other powerful women. If I took this money, allowed this clinical trial to set root in my office, it would mean becoming dependent on both Evolution and Lean In. Lean In, I was learning, was a well-connected, obviously well-funded female empowerment organization, one that seemed determined to get women into places of influence and strengthen them while they’re there. And Evolution Pharmaceuticals was not just the rinky-dink pill pop-up that I’d assumed it was, but rather a small piece of some larger player...and maybe I’m just being paranoid, but probably also controlled by women. If I took this money, I felt like it would be sucking from the big collective teat of the country’s - and perhaps the world’s - most powerful alpha females.

“I, uh…” I began, forgetting where I was, “yeah…”

“Omigod I am SO happy with you right now..!!” she suddenly, finally gushed, sitting up taller, jumping towards me and abruptly throwing her arms around me. Strong hands behind my head now pulled my face to her chest. “You are such a good boss!”

“mmmrf!”

Embracing me to her bosom, she squealed, and hugged me tighter. Soft breast squashed into my face, my head plastered to Melissa's big left boob. 

Oh my god what is she doing?!? I panicked, arms flailing helplessly as I heard her start to laugh. Despite my struggles, she held me firm - if anything, holding me even tighter still. 

“M-m-m-Mulithhah!” I tried, voice muffled by the mushy mass mashed into my mouth. 

“Shhhhh…!” she giggled, “I can’t help myself, I need to hug you!” Pressing herself into me, she moaned in delight. “Hug hug hug! I need to show you what a good boy you are!!”

The warmth, the softness of her breast was overwhelming, and as she held me firm I - despite myself - started to calm, give myself up to her massive tit. “mmmmf…” I tried again, this time my complaint sounding more like a little sigh. 

She looked down at me, quietening down herself. When she spoke again, her voice had softened. 

“That okay, sweetie?” she purred, cupping my head from behind with one palm as the other moved into my hair, “Can you breathe down there?”

I groaned something, something in assent and - god help me - rubbed my nose into her.

She giggled.

“There you go…” she cooed,  now petting my head, “all good now, all good. Just breathe...” 

I sighed again, every breath I took full of her perfume, the scent of her skin. I heard, through her chest, her cooing little praises.

“Good boy...good boy…” she lauded, enveloping me with affection. She was peering down at me, I knew, though my eyes had closed already. I felt her ready herself, and winced in shame even before she asked me the question that I knew was coming:

”So, with the trial…” she asked, “what have we decided?”

=================================================

Thanks so much to the incomparably amazing Dani Doreen for the image. We're so proud to have her onboard as our resident "from the neck down" Melissa and can't wait to work with her some more. She's so awesome and I'd recommend everyone check out her GTS/SM content:

Dani Doreen’s OnlyFans

https://onlyfans.com/danidoreen

[lightsinthedistancee]

Violation: Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Summary: “He was drowning and flailing in the whirlpool of his memories. Barely staying above and being forced to surrender to something that he had once controlled.”

Reader comforts Poe through trauma developed during his time within the First Order.

Warnings: mentions of torture

A/N: Hey guys! I know this is super similar to the works I’ve been posting lately (ptsd/trauma and stuff) but I actually wrote this a while ago and have been trying to stop being a lazy bum and finally get all my stuff transferred over from AO3 (which I told myself I’d do a month ago and still haven’t oops).

It was cold. Too cold. Air was drafting in through the open window, running across her skin, caressing her arms in a chill that she yearned to shake. She reached for Poe on the other side of the bed, only finding empty, cold sheets.

“Poe?” she murmured groggily, opening her eyes. He was nowhere to be found, the door ajar, suggesting that he’d left.

She frowned, for she knew he only got up in the middle of the night when he was distracted, and that distractedness was generally the result of a devastating, all-encompassing emotion that he was experiencing.

She had theories of what it was about…well, only one.

Kylo Ren.

She knew that the First Order Commander had done something to Poe, something terrible, something that broke something in him. She’d spent countless nights up, pleading with Poe, begging him to trust her, to confide in her with his pain. Each time had ended in failure, leaving her only with a self-loathing for not being someone that he could trust.

She rolled out of bed, goosebumps dotting her arms as she wrapped a fleece blanket around her shoulders. The apartment was dead silent as she paced down the stairs, the only exception being the sound of the perpetual Coruscanti traffic filtering through the walls. City lights harshly illuminated the rooms, giving them a painfully bright shine. His presence was found in neither the kitchen or the living area, but she spotted him on the balcony, his form a black silhouette against the lights.

He clutched a warm mug of tea between his hands, and the moment she stepped out, she shivered at the breeze. “Poe?” she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes sad and empty, seeming to travel for miles into his skull.

She sat beside him, wrapping her blanket around his shoulders too. One of her hands found its way into his curls, running her fingers through them comfortingly.

“Why’re you up?”

“Had a dream,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“About?”

“You know,” he simply answered. And she did. It was always the same thing nearly every time.

He felt her presence radiating from her center, washing over him, wrapping him in warmth and familiarity.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she questioned tentatively, bracing herself for rejection like all the other times.

He wanted to tell her…he’d never wanted to tell anyone anything more than he wanted to tell her what had happened. But his pride and shame blocked him. It hadn’t been excruciating pain or torture that had broken him. It’d been something else, something seemingly far less sinister.

His thoughts were taunting him, telling him that he was supposed to be stronger than this. That what had happened should have barely fazed him. All of it made him feel overwhelmingly weak, like he was drowning and flailing in the whirlpool of his memories. Barely staying above and being forced to surrender to something that he had once controlled.

And for a reason he didn’t know, he didn’t want her seeing him like this.

“Please….” She was practically begging him, changing positions to sit on her knees, looking at him with acute worry, one stronger than he’d ever seen before. She was scared for him, about to burst into tears.

And that look broke something else inside him. He hated seeing her scared or in pain. It’d always made something in him contort in discomfort, in fear, in uncertainty, for she was the strongest person he knew. And he especially hated it when he knew that he was the very cause of it.

He wanted to embrace her, hug her and love her till her features melted into one of comfort. He wanted to murmur to her that she shouldn’t be worried about him because he wasn’t worth it. But with her sad eyes reflecting the city lights, he had only one option.

“He used a mind probe,” he simply said, taking a deep breath, averting his gaze once more. “He saw everything, Lexi. Every memory I’ve ever had, every experience, every emotion.”

Poe began to shake, his hands trembling to the point that she took the cup of tea away from him.

“He saw every private, intimate, secret thought I’ve had in my life. Every thought I’ve had regarding my mother, my father, my friends, myself, you…”

His eyelids fluttered in quick succession, holding back tears, desperately trying to keep his voice from cracking. She felt her fingers interlace with his, holding him steady in his moment of vulnerability.

“Every aspiration I’ve ever had, every desire, every regret. It was like he reached into my head without permission, and took everything out, examined it, scrutinized it, before shoving it all back in.

“And…and I don’t even know why it bothers me. It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be this weak.” His voice grew in urgency. His pent-up emotions spiraled out. “I mean…how many others has he done this to? I doubt he even remembers any of the stuff he saw, so…so why does it makes me feel so…violated?”

Poe often imagined people’s minds as walls filled with hundreds, thousands, millions of memories. It felt as if Ren had barged into his and then examined and ripped the memories off one at a time, throwing them to the ground like filth. 

The pilot stared at the ground, his breath coming quicker as he forced it to slow. Before he knew it, she was wrapping her arms around him, cradling his neck beneath her chin. And then he was sobbing, his whole body trembling.

She held him tighter as he shook, painful noises escaping his throat, murmuring things to him. He was physically releasing every anxiety and fear he’d had since his time on the Finalizer.

“You’re okay, baby,” she whispered. “I’m right here.”

He clung to her, breathing her in, feeling her. In his vulnerable state of mind, an overwhelming sense of gratefulness found him.

There were things that were always going to be eternal. War, violence, pain. Patience, honor, and affection. Space. Life. The stars.

And her love. She’d always been there; she always was. And he relished the thought that she would be far into the future. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

...::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

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Taglist: @synical-paradox​ @dark-academics-and-florals​ @paper-n-ashes​

“Violation” originally posted on AO3 on 11/23/20.

[onepdumpsterfire]

Maelstrom

Reader . Straw Hat crew

Word count: 6623

Trigger warning: Death. Gore, I suppose. (spoiler: the reader dies then comes back to life)

if there are any triggers that you need specifically tagged, please feel free to tell me.

Summary: Reader was betrayed by their past comrades and left in a cage for the rest of eternity. straw hats stumble upon them and  decide to help them.

Nami’s pov.

A harsh current pulled at The Sunny, dragging us closer and closer to the raging whirlpool behind us. 

We raced around on The Sunny, trying to get her to move away from it, but its claws took hold of us before we could even take control from the waters. Roughly pulling at The Sunny one last time, it sucked her into its glistening wrath.

“Not like this, Sunny,”  Franky yelled at his most prized creation, “You will not go down like this.” He pulled on the helm, hoping to salvage any form of power.

But the current was too strong, and before we knew it, the whirlpool took us from its lip down to its pit; swallowing our screams with its ear-splitting roar up to the very end.

-

We should be dead. The raging waters should have destroyed our ship and drowned us for trying to defy the sea’s fury; but it calmed at the apex of the whirlpool, making the Sunny swirl to a dizzying stop before it started moving in the same lazy path of the current at the whirlpool’s center. “. . .What . . . just happened?” I’m amazed at our continued death-defying luck, and it seems most of the crew did too. They either stood incredulous at the events or celebrated our, once again, unbelievable escape of danger.

As are many of the moments here, it didn’t last long before our captain decided to do something stupid.

“Hey! there’s an island!” Luffy pointed towards the very center of the whirlpool that caged us in. “Franky, turn The Sunny! We’re stopping at the island!” He shouted over his shoulder as he stretched out his arms on the railing. “Gomu gomu-no...”

I should have known that he would think very little about the situation we’ve gotten into. Walking over to him, I try to take hold of him before he can launch himself. “Oh, no you don’t. You are going to help-” Without a care in the world, our reckless captain slingshotted himself off The Sunny, yelling about finding a good restaurant on the island before I could finish my sentence. 

“That idiot captain.” A vein practically burst out of my forehead as I shook a menacing fist at the spot where he once stood. “When I get my hands on-” taking in a long breath, I calmed myself. There’s no point in getting mad at that idiot captain right now. Let’s just anchor the ship somewhere secluded so that I can RIP HIM A NEW ONE.

Soon after, my anger towards Luffy’s rash personality dissipated and began to get replaced with a crawling sense of dread. Even before we anchored the ship, I felt there was something wrong.

The island seemed so still. So… quiet, besides the constant cascading water surrounding us there weren’t any sounds of bugs or birds or ANY animals. It’s getting hard to believe that this island was inhabited by anything, let alone humans.

To add to the ominous feeling the island gave off, the beach ended as soon as it began. The small strip of sand that surrounded the island like a halo turned into stone more than a yard in, and the few plant life that was here miraculously thrived from between the cracks on the rocky floor. No grass, no trees, just bushes, weeds, and a tall rugged mountain that seemed to be too steep to even be called that. It appeared to be more of a tower that onlooked the rest of the island. Looming over everything like a guardian that promised safety only to backhand you with its cracked and coarse hand.

Few of the bushes seemed to have some food to eat, but all of it were poor excuses for berries. Too small to carry any nutrients and too little to sate any hunger. I’m sure that even if you collected all the berries in this place it wouldn’t even be enough to constitute as a meal.

Without even looking I knew that the water surrounding us would be the same. Devoid of all life, plant, and animal alike. Had we really survived? Or do we await a less abrupt ending? One where we prolong our inevitable doom by scrounging up any food we can find or starve.

Looking over to the thrashing water that surrounded us, tumbling over itself to create an impenetrable gate, it seemed to be harsher than what we’d crossed to get in here. Was it even possible to get back out? With the way things looked if we even tried we’d get ripped to shreds. I don’t think The Sunny can survive that.

My concerns were interrupted when Luffy came running back to us yelling that he hadn’t found a town or village on the small island. “Of course not! Do you not see how deserted the island looks?”

“That’s right, Luffy!” Usopp joins in my scolding, “we should worry about how we’re gonna get out! Or what we’re gonna eat! Our food won’t last forever!” At least there’s one person here that’s reliable. I can always count on Usopp to be grounded!

“We can just eat fish-” I quiet the thundering dumbass with a hit to the head, “obviously not! There are no fish here!” With a huff, I look over to our cook, “Sanji-kun, can you ration out the food?”

“Yes, Nami-swan!” Hearts practically bulge out of his eyes as he praises my genius. disregarding that one, I need to make sure the whining resident glutton of the ship gets the message.

Glaring, I grab the scruff of Luffy’s vest, “EVERYONE’S on a diet until we get out or miraculously find food on this godforsaken rock.”

“Bᵤₜ ₙaaaₘᵢᵢᵢᵢ”

“No buts.”

“Bᵤₜ ₙaa-” Giving him another hard knock to the head, I dish out the rest of the orders.

Zoro is gonna go scout the island more thoroughly, taking Chopper with him because he wanted to see if there were any herbs he could use for medicine in between all of the weeds. Robin went to go check out the stone tower mountain with Franky and Luffy, who would have gone anyway even if I had told him otherwise. Usopp and Brook took charge of seeing if the sea was really as barren as the rest of this place in the Mini Marry. Lastly, I’m gonna go explore the island, map it out, and try and find any clues that explain why this place is so lifeless.

-

After an hour of looking around, I've come to the conclusion that this place makes no sense! If an underwater volcano erupted and created the island not so long ago then maybe it would make sense but by the looks of the untamed, patchy shrubs this place has been here for much longer. Not to mention, after an eruption, the first life that forms is lichen that slowly breaks away at the rock that formed; but it’s as if a sheet of rock landed on top of this island, killing everything that couldn’t claw its way out through the cracks. More so, it looks like it’s sealing everything beneath it so that no other life passes. It’s purposefully trying to keep any vegetation from growing.

The longer I walk around the island the more off it becomes. I should get back and tell the others what I found. Hopefully, Robin was luckier and found better clues about this place in the tower.

-

As I approach The Sunny, I can see that all of them are back and… there’s someone with them.

So there was life here?

How is that even possible?

Either way, I have a piece of my mind to give to this person about the island.

“Look who we found in the tower.” Robin gestures towards the new person in the group, “this is Y/n.”

“Thank you, Robin. I can always count on you.”

“Luffy and I were there too, y’know!” Franky yells at me.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, Y/n-”

“Don’t ignore me!” 

“- how long have you been here? How did you manage to survive? Is there anything that’s edible here, other than the barries?” I give them a look like they’re our saving grace. Maybe, just maybe, there could be hope for us after all.

Reader’s pov.

They’d introduced themselves already; the black-haired woman that initially found me in my safe haven had done the courtesy, even going as far as telling me what each of the people on the crew did. That includes the redhead that approached us with a worried expression that soon turned to absolute bliss as she laid eyes on me. She must think I can get them out of here or find them some supplies, but she will soon be disappointed.

After a small one-sided exchange from the redhead and… Franky… she bombards me with questions.

“... no, sorry. There is no food here…” The life practically saps out of her eyes as she deflates into a feeble state of worry. “You all should leave if you can. This is no place to live.”

“Says you!” the long nose speaks up. Usopp, was it? “You live here don’t you? If you’d fallen in after us Brook and I would have seen you when we were searching around the island and we didn’t see any boats or wrecks!”

“Plus, you’re all alone here. What happened to your crew?” Chopper the tanuki braves his fear and speaks from behind Zoro. Well, not quite. He’s more hiding his face than his body.

“Maybe they ate their crew.” Usopp and Chopper scream in terror at Robin’s attempt at humor. “Don’t say that, Robin! They wouldn’t... R-r-right, Y/n-san.” Stuttering, Usopp tries to give me the benefit of the doubt so as to land a better standing with me. “W-we’re all friends here right, Y/n-san?”

“Maybe I did.” Usopp ashened at my words while Chopper yelled that I’d be restrained.

Such a lively crew. It's been a while since I’ve had such a nice interaction with… Well, anyone. Looking off to the side, I make note of the time of day. It’s nearly sunset, they should get out while there’s still light, if they even can. At the very least they should die trying. What this place is… What this place becomes after dark. They won’t survive for long if they stay here.

“All jokes aside,” admitting that I was only joking seemed to calm the scaredy cats, though what I’m about to say will raise their anxiety once more. Poor them, thrown one thing after another. “It’s getting dark. There are things on this island that come out during the night-”

“The caves dug into the floor Chopper and I saw, there was something inside,” Zoro steps forward, already knowing the answer to his upcoming question. “I felt something was in there, that’s what you’re talking about, right?”

“Yes, there are creatures here who burrowed down into the rock of this island,” turning behind me, I face the tower again, “they won’t go into the tower, so if you need it, you can stay there for tonight.”

“But take anything you want from your ship, those creatures will ravage everything on it.” I raise a hand to stop their upcoming complaints, “it would be best to leave right now so that the ship has a better chance to make it over the whirlpool, but there is no helping it if you have no idea how to cross it yet.”

Letting them finally say what’s on their minds they hurl a flurry of complaints at me.

Luffy: can that thing even hold up? When we went to go see it, it looked like it was about to fall over!

Franky: I’m not leaving my baby alone with whatever those things are!

Usopp: What are those things?!?!?!?! Do they only come out at night?! Am I the only one worried about them?!!

Zoro: I’ll cut them all down.

Sanji: Nami-swan, Robin-chwan! Your prince will protect you!

Nami: Thank you Sanji-kun

Chopper: I wasn’t aware there even was an entrance to the tower.

Robin: I hope we don’t get eaten…

Brook: Same here, I doubt I’m any good. I’m all bones yohohohoho

Taking a deep breath, I try to answer whatever questions or complaints they have. The tower will probably hold. No guarantee, though. It’s the safest bet to make it through the night.

The things leave when daylight hits.

They can’t just sail around the island until those things are gone in the morning because they are a type of magical creature that learns and evolves. (The creatures would struggle to swim at first but soon enough they would become exceptional at it and catch up.)

You can’t just cut them down because they’re immortal beings that re-generate.

“Well, not quite beings, considering that they were made from magic to mindlessly attack whatever is in the cage.” I corrected myself, gaining more inquiries. “Magic? Cage? Is that what the whirlpool is? What is it keeping inside, if not those creatures?” Robin seems to be one of the more inquisitive people on the ship, considering how gung-ho the others appear to be, I’m glad they have someone that they can count on. Such loyalty and trust from comrades is one thing that I miss most from the outside world.

“Hahaha those are good questions, maybe I’ll answer that some other time,” I turn on my heel, not really caring if they take my advice or not. “It’s a long story and it’s about to get dark. We should head inside.”

I’m not gonna stay out here to be live bait to those THINGS.

Suddenly a warm, cream-colored thing snakes around my abdomen before yanking me back, full force. Nearly making me spit out my heart, may I add. What the ABSOLUTE FUCK?

Flying past the ship’s railing, I land on the hard mast, knocking the wind right out of myself. “Ah, sorry. Sorry, shishishishi.” Luffy stands above me, laughing at my expense. That stupid face makes me want to throw him into the ocean. A devil fruit user huh? I hope he sinks, bastard! I prepare to scold him, but he cuts me off, “you’re coming with us, right?”

“I- wa- No! I can’t ‘come with you’!”

“Huh? But why not?”

“Because the cage won’t let me! Believe me, I’ve tried! It just drags me right back… I can’t… I can’t leave.” Pushing past Luffy, I try to jump ship but it seems they have other ideas. His arm now tightly secured to my waist he tells me they won’t let those things hurt me. That I can leave with them. To the outside world.

His words and the full confidence looks his crew gives us almost makes me fall to my knees. How can they believe so blindly in someone? Putting so much faith in someone can only lead to betrayal. They can’t be serious. This isn’t real.

I try to worm myself out of his grasp. Pulling and pushing at Luffy’s skin, kneading away at his arm but his hold only tightens. “We’ll get out, Y/n. Don’t worry.” He isn’t looking at me, rather choosing to stare as the last sliver of light vanishing and a tidal wave of misformed creatures rushing towards the departing ship.

They were all butched, they looked like the person who made them once intended them to look human only to change their mind at the last moment. Some of the creatures looked sickly, with stick-like bodies that clashed with bulbous limbs. Dried out, pale skin that cracked under their every jagged movement, spilling blood with every jerk of their body. Their faces so sunken and hollow you could barely tell there were eyes in the black sockets that reflected back the murky color of the dim moonlight.

Others had random limbs that were too long for them; elongated further than they should have to contradict the rest of their proportions. Their skin sagged on their forms and their orifices oozed a dark and coagulated purge liquid that slopped down with their every step.

They crawled at an alarming speed with their spidery appendages, falling over each other’s tangling limbs. They pulled on each other to get to us. Gnarled limbs clawing, biting, ripping each other open to get farther ahead.

Their dark gray blood painted the stone beneath them as they healed themselves then tried to get past again. Shoving, piercing, and sinking their teeth into one another turned to push each other underwater when they got to the sea.

They took no breaths between the waves that pulled them or the body pushed them under; they didn’t even look like they cared that they were drowning themselves.

They had one objective.

Destroy the occupants of the cage at any cost. 

“Oh, god! What are they doing?!” Usopp yelled from the stern, firing off a few rounds with his slingshot, kabuto. Zoro, Sanji, and Chopper stood beside him observing the horrific sight. “Stop firing at them! It’s useless, that won’t make them stop!” I yell back at him, finally managing to free myself from Luffy’s arm. Whether they heard me or not didn’t show, all four of them began to throw any attack they could at the creatures.

“Have a little faith, Y/n shishishi,” Luffy smiled at me, “we’re gonna get out of here.”

Rolling my eyes, I walk over to the railing. “If you guys wanna take your chances with the cage that’s fine, but leave me out of it.” I prepare to leap over the railing only to be pulled back again. “Are you crazy?! Those things will rip you to shreds if you go into the water!”

“No, crazy would be staying here, and at the very least it’ll give you some time to try and go through to the other side! Look!” I pointed back to the mass of bodies that dived down before springing out of the water, almost taking out Usopp when they collectively reached out for him. “I told you those things learn, it’s just a matter of time before they manage to get on board!” 

I pleaded with them to just let me buy them some time. I can’t leave but at the very least I can do that! I can do one nice thing to the only people that I’ve seen in centuries! To the people that tried to save me with their stupid blind faith.

But Luffy stubbornly refused to just let me go. No matter how many times I told them I’d be fine.

The waters sped up as we neared the edge of the whirlpool, leaving the creatures to get pulled under. “There isn’t much time before they resurface, or until the curse... I need to leave. I can buy you time! Please!” I am practically on my knees begging, but they won’t even listen to me.

“Luffy! We only have enough Cola reserves to make a small coup de burst,” Franky shouted over the white noise of the gushing water, “The wind that’s surrounding the whirlpool is being sucked in from the outside. If we don’t time it right we might end up being engulfed by the waters!”

“Alright, Franky! I’m counting on you!”

“Aye, captain! I’ll do it at the last possible moment to ensure we make it through!”

Panic sets in the pit of my stomach, “no, I can’t. I can’t!” I pull and punch at Luffy,  “I won’t make it! Let go of me so you won’t be left behind with me, Luffy!”

“No.”

“Luf- Lu.” I nearly choked on my own words when I got a glimpse of the wide horizon line.

I thought I’d never be able to see such a beautiful eternity again. I’ve never made it this far, the water would only get more aggressive no matter how hard I tried with whatever unlucky ship was dragged down here. It would always drag me down under or pull me back to the island.

 We’re getting closer and closer, the boys in the back are holding themselves against the creatures and Luffy isn’t letting go.

Can I… Can I actually leave this place?

Can I be free?

Tears distort my vision before falling freely down my face, “can I leave? I can be free?” I look up at Luffy for confirmation. Light seemed to radiate off of him. Could you be my savior? 

“Of course, Y/n! Shishishishi!” Luffy lets me go, now satisfied knowing that I won’t try to jump off. I look out into the ocean that I haven’t seen In lifetimes and I can’t help the hope that swells in my heart.

I can see the outside again. 

I’m gonna be free

I am gonna be FREE

All too suddenly the familiar weight on my neck constricts my airway.

No. I’m so close. no. No. NO! 

The chain that binds me to the island finally shows itself. Shortening the closer we get to freedom.

How cruel to have me believe I could actually be free. 

The chain pulled me back with such a crushing force that it immediately snapped my neck. 

Sanji’s pov.

We were so close. So close to leaving this hell hole and then a chain appeared around Y/n neck. It pulled them back into the water and dragged them all the way back to land. All of the creatures that pursued us stopped immediately, taking more interest in Y/n’s body that flopped in and out of the water with the dragging force of the chain. The creatures jumped on to them, injecting their claws into their soft skin to secure their hold on them.

“Stop! Turn around! Y/n fell off!” Luffy yelled up at Franky. 

I agree with Luffy, we may have just met Y/n but I heard about how they were willing to jump into the water to give us time to escape. There’s no way we can leave them behind after that!

“As the navigator, I’ll make sure to keep the ship safe, captain.” With an unshaken voice, Nami assured Luffy, “Go to the island and get Y/n back. We’ll keep The Sunny going around to keep her safe until you get back!”

“D-don’t worry c-captain. I’m a b-brave warrior of the sea! I’ll protect the ship!” Shakily Usopp raised a thumbs up to Luffy.

“Yes! Leave it to us, Captain!” Brook chimed in, soul solid at the ready.

“Oi, Captain. Don’t keep all the fun to yourself. We’re coming too.” Zoro and I stood resolute on our decision. 

“Shishishi alright! Let’s go! Gomu gomu-no!” Luffy stretched his arm over the railing, while the other wrapped itself around us. “No! Wait! Luffyyyyyyyy!!” Our idiot captain wants to kill us! Launching us straight into a rocky shore, this ASS!

“Stop throwing us everywhere, Luffy!” I raise my hand to give him a hard knock to the head, the moss head agrees with me by giving him one too. “Sorry, sorry.”

Sorry, my ass. Grumbling I take out the cigarette box before fishing in my pocket for a lighter. “Alright, Y/n was dragged off somewhere near the tower thing, so let’s head there to look for them first.”

“Yosh! Let’s go!” without a second thought, this reckless idiot rushes straight in, leaving us to catch up.

It didn’t even take long to reach the tower, the island was small. Which is why it surprised me how many of those things there were. How far had they burrowed under the island for there to be this many?

The mass practically moved as one when they noticed us. Descending on us with such ferocity that it would have left a weaker man feeling helpless.

“Sit back and watch, marimo! I’ll take them all out.”

“Big words for such a small man, curly.”

“You shitty- Watch me!” I ran in yelling the name of my starting attack ‘Joue Shoot’ hitting my mark right in the face and sending it, along with every creature behind it, flying.

We aren’t making any headway! Every time we push forward we are pushed back with the same strength. One after another, every enemy we took down bounced right back up, better and stronger than before.

The ones I was fighting got tougher, callused skin and became resistant to the fire from my ‘Hell Memories’ attack; and to make matters worse, those things have started learning my attacks, and a quick glance can confirm that the others are having the same luck. Luffy’s creatures are doubling their speed, increasing their bulging muscles so that they look like Luffy’s Kong Gun. Zoro’s opponents broke their arms, shanking their bones through their skin to make imitation swords.

These things are fucking monsters. They don’t seem to be able to feel any of the pain we’re inflicting. We can’t keep the same mindless pace they do! We take a hit and keep all damage from it!

“Luffy, this isn’t gonna work, we need to retreat for now!”

“Oi, shit-cook! You think these things are just gonna let us retreat!”

“Fuck off, pea-brain!” I kick one of the creatures over at Zoro, “Let’s make them chase us-” the stupid marimo threw on back in retaliation, “obviously they’re gonna chase us no matter what, ero-cook!”

“Just listen, dick head! We make them chase us around the tower; when they leave an opening we can just grab Y/n and run!” There’s no time to fight over this! I sky walk over to Luffy, “Let’s go! Now!”

“Come on, Zoro!” finally taking the hint, Luffy rushes off behind me. 

The monsters bolted with us to the right, but they were smarter than what I’d anticipated. While most of them did follow, there was still a large group guarding the entrance to the tower. They knew what we came for and won’t let us take Y/n so easily. We circled around the tower. Once. Twice. Three times, and still those things didn’t give us an opening. I can’t stand this! We’re just chasing our own tails here!

Impatience at away at us, but the first one to act on it was Luffy.

“They’ll never leave the tower alone! So if they won’t give us an opening we’ll make one!” Luffy threw his arms at me, a silent command that I understood all too well. “Armée de L’Air,” I positioned myself to throw Luffy, “Gomu Shot!” Launching Luffy off with a kick, he rocketed himself straight to the center of the tower.

The tower collapsed almost entirely on itself. Luffy would have just gone straight through it if he hadn’t reached back to hold on to the base and sent himself back in a rebound, effectively clearing the rest of the tower.

Rubble and ash covered the creatures as they all rushed back to the tower. “C’mon!” The moss-head shouted over to me, having seen the opening just as well as me.

. . .There’s something wrong.

The creatures surrounded the tower but weren’t fighting back when we attacked them to get past. They weren’t even moving. Just staring straight ahead to where Luffy should be. As odd as it is, I won’t slow down just because those freaks stopped. I need to get to-

I wasn’t prepared for this. It’s not…. It can’t.

No.

Luffy had a dark shadow casted over his face as he kneeled next to a bloody and gored out Y/n. Their neck was broken by the chain that pulled them away. Skin shredded off and placed in piles around the both of them. Their bones were broken. Protruding. Piercing through in white splayed out spikes from the pink muscles, slathered in blood. Their abdomen slashed open and organs ripped out.

Had the monsters been eating them?

Their arm missed its hand. The leg was torn off. A stray foot laid across from them, mangled. Bitten. 

If those things wanted to eat them they had done it already. They had plenty of time!

But they didn’t.

Looking into the horde of creatures. They all stood still, watching us. Grotesque faces with gnarled teeth bared at us…. Smiling. They're smiling at us.

"Damn it all! Those things were just toying with us."

The creatures went wild at my words. Screeching and shoving each other, but never passing the remaining debris of the pillar that still circled around us. They’re waiting for us to get out of here.

“We can’t stay here,” Zoro pointed at the back of the throng, “some of them have already left. Probably towards The Sunny.”

“Luffy, we can’t bring Y/n with us. They’ll be safe if we leave them inside the circle. In the morning we can bury them but for now, we need to head back the ship.”

-

No words were exchanged on the trip back. All three of us fought as much as we could against the wave of creatures that pursued us, eventually making it back to the ship by sunrise.

 The creatures hissed and hollered in pain when the soft rays of the sun became too much for them to handle. Their gray skin almost seemed transparent in the growing light.

Those thing’s bodies looked like luminescent meat bags carrying distorted skeletons inside. Too warped and bent to look anything like the humans they were initially mirrored after. The things clawed at their eyes, blinding themselves as they rushed back to hide in their caves.

After the last of the nocturnal creatures retreated, we docked the ship again.

Then the dreaded question came.

Nami asked if we’d managed to retrieve Y/n but she was only met with grim looks that turned the exhilaration of having won another breath of life sour. 

“It’s not fair! Y/n just wanted to be free… they just wanted...” Luffy trailed off, glancing back to where their body should be laid. “We should take them with us and bury them out of here.”

“It won’t be that easy, Luffy.” Zoro tried to reason with him.

“We can’t just leave them in this cage!”

“We don’t even have a coffin! Are we supposed to just stuff them in a box and keep them in the freezer until we can find the next island?!”

As much as I’d like to take them with us, Zoro does have a point. We can’t just carry around a brutalized body with us. “Luffy, we don’t know when we’ll reach the next island. It could be weeks! We can’t-”

“Yo,” A voice greets us from beside me.

“Hey,” I give them a quick glance before getting back to what I was saying. “Anyways, we can’t t-”

Was that?

.  .  .

“You’re supposed to be dead!” 

“Oh, shit. Am I?” Y/n’s tone was light, as if they hadn’t just been mauled to death by beasts. “The hell do you mean ‘am I’!?” 

Reader’s pov.

After being magically resurrected, one would think that people would be surprised, confused, or maybe astonished? But curly over here seemed pissed.

“Thanks for the warm welcome, bud.” Putting on the saddest looking face I turned around, “guess I’ll just crawl into a cave and die again...” 

“N-no, that’s not what I-” Sanji reached his hand out to stop me.

“Ahahaha I know, I know. Don’t worry about it….. Though I suppose I do owe you guys an explanation for this.” 

It’s been so long since I had to explain to someone what happened that day… 

No. 

It wasn't just that day. Things were off since before that, but I didn’t pay attention to the signs. God, why didn't I? 

I keep asking myself that.

Why didn't I back out when I had the chance? Why couldn't I just let sleeping dogs lie? 

Either way, on that day, everything went wrong.

-

Long ago, when the world was in a time of mystic and wonder, the practice of magic was common throughout the four blues. Most things that could be done with magic were done with magic. Magic was so common that even the most secluded tribes used some form of it. And so, as with any type of power, people began to abuse it. People began to use dark magic to rule and terrorize. 

Don’t get me wrong, magic isn’t inherently evil, but neither is it good. Magic is a form of science. It follows its principles and has its limits. People’s intentions, though, can be either-or.

Order had to be put in place. A council of the noblest, wisest, and strongest magic users was made. They became the authority; their rule was final. And in an act of democracy, they input a system that would not let them become all-powerful.

That’s where the seven covens come in.

The seven covens (separately) ruled over the four seas, the new world, the grand line, and the calm belts. The members of the covens were chosen by the people and, unfortunately, that’s where it started.

After magic regulation rules and laws came into place, people were angry that they couldn’t use it freely and unchecked as they did before. When the ones who were strong stood on top of those who lacked it. They couldn’t rule over people as tyrants or terrorize others for their amusement and gain; but it also meant magic couldn’t be used to ease everyday life either. Magic was monitored, you had to seek permission from a coven to use stronger types of magic for your work and some forms of magic were even banned.

Curious people that tried to see how far they could push the boundaries of magic were furious when their research was trashed. With magic now limited, underground organizations began to arise. I was part of one.

Since magic is a natural part of the world like waterfalls or clouds, that’s why I wanted to explore all of its nooks and crannies! It’s the same as when man first evolved enough to wonder what was beyond the island we were born into. 

We wanted to explore the whole world back then! And this should have been the same as that. It’s normal to want to know our extent of power and knowledge. I just wanted to explore magic’s limits and push past them. It should be like training to sword fight or lifting weights. It should have been the same.

We could have used our findings for so many wonderful things!

But I was naive.

Banning together with a group of people whom I thought shared the same passion for the unexplored and unknown….

In the shadows, we did our research and found so many new ways to use magic! So many new types! We were doing so good.

We wanted to find a way to bring what we’d found to the world.

We wanted this.

We…

I wanted this. 

As much as I want to believe otherwise, the signs were there from the beginning. But they were my colleagues. . . my friends. I gave them the benefit of the doubt at first.

We came up with a plan to get ourselves elected for the coven. We wormed our way in like maggots then ate our way up. 

We were going to instill new rules. Be more lenient towards magic usage for businesses. Introduce a research team for magic that would take us out of the underground. Slowly release our findings.

That was as far as I would go. They left me in charge of the research team while they went behind my back and found new dangerous and unstable magic. They used it to hurt people and to gain authority. 

They’d cart away lost civilians, people who were so forgotten from society that if they were to disappear no one would notice.

They breed them to keep their human supply going. Then they’d used them as guinea pigs.

Eventually, I did find out what they were doing, but by then it was too late. The plan had gone too well and now they were inside all of the covens except for the ones in east and west blue.

I tried warning the council, but my old comrades found out before I could.

They branded me a traitor and punished me with never-ending torment. Sealing me away in a whirlpool that would cancel my powers, where as long as I was inside I would never age. I would never die.

They put me on this island that would never bear enough fruit but would always have enough to have me desperate for scraps. Lastly, they added those things so that I’d fear their wrath and power for the rest of eternity.

Between slowly dying of hunger or dehydration over and over again and being mauled to death, the thing that hurt most was them branding ME as the traitor. They betrayed ME.

They USED me.

The people I thought of as friends.

-

Taking a deep breath, I finished off my story. 

“...Y/n… that was a really sad story and all, but what do you mean magic?” Out of all the questions, I didn’t expect Usopp to ask that one. 

“... what do YOU mean?” I shared a look with all the members of the crew. How could they not know about magic? It’s everywhere??? “Y’know magic. Like what brought me back to life and is keeping me from leaving this place.”

“Like witches, with wands and brooms?” As much as it worries me that they don’t know about magic, I have an even bigger question, “what the fuck do brooms have to do with this?” 

“Ah, well witches fly around... on them…” With every passing word, Usopp’s face got redder and redder, a telltale sign of his growing embarrassment under my judgmental gaze. “Of all things someone could make fly, why a broom?”

“I uh… I don’t know…”

  The conversation carried on until finally, they told me about the outside world. Apparently, the most magical thing that there was out there were the devil fruits that granted their users powers, like Luffy’s rubber body. 

In a way, I was kind of glad that almost all traces of magic were gone. That meant that my comrades from back then failed.

My guess is that after their reckless abuse of power, magic was banned; or at the very least only used by those of the highest standing.

In time, magic must have dwindled, little by little until it just disappeared. 

With so much time passed and with how things turned out, it’s hard to believe that any of my former friends survived.

That must mean that they tethered my cell to an object. If whatever the object is gets destroyed... I could have a chance of leaving this place.

“... Luffy… do you… do you still want to help me escape?”

Luffy’s voice didn't waver.

He said it as if it was the most obvious thing.

No hesitation. No doubt.

At that moment, I swear, the sun shone brighter than it ever had in this cage full of torment. His bright gaze made it feel like every horrid year I had spent trapped had somehow vanished. It gave me something that I hadn’t had in a long time.

He gave me such a knee-bending sense of hope that I could have cried. He had such conviction that it made me believe that I would soon see the outside once more.

In the evening, after I gave them some information that could help them find the object that kept this cage alive, the straw hats tempted the ferocious waters again and this time I wasn't on the ship.

Before they left they made me a promise.

One day, they will be back.

They will set me free and we’ll explore this new world together.

I’ll keep waiting.

No matter how long it takes, until that day.

[hothian-snow]

Sparagmos: First Draft

To celebrate me reaching 32K with my WIP, here’s a bunch of drabbles which inspired the initial first draft. I might reuse one or two scenes, but not the stuff with Darth Zhorrid. Both Yen and her master has changed a lot through my second revision of the fic too, and so has my writing style. Enjoy!

Darth Kharopos knew damn well that he was intimidating. He must be, lest all the other Darths devour him whole. He was also acutely aware of the effect he had on Yennevyr. It was almost amusing, the sudden change in her posture, her back snapping straight the moment he stepped into the room. Her deference towards him, the soft words and lowered eyes. Was she eager to please, or eager to survive?

From her quick feet and mind, he thought it was the latter. Self-preservation was a necessary trait among the cutthroat Sith, but for his apprentices - his legacy - he wanted more. He thought with her keen eyes and her outsider’s perspective, she’d be able to see the Empire for what it was. To see beyond the rabble, beyond the rat’s race and see what truly mattered. Instead, her eyes were puffy and pink, the next morning they met during saber practice.

Pathetic.

And it wasn’t a one off occasion too. Every time she’d come back from a particularly grueling mission, her mind was elsewhere, her blows lacking the conviction he’d expect from an acolyte worthy of being called his apprentice.

Drawing his attention back to the current practice, he swung a saber at her, the saber deflected mid-swing by a well-placed parry. He stepped aside, and noted how her feet were firmly planted into the ground, readying the body to absorb the weight of a heavy thrust or jab. A defensive stance- again. Must he truly hurt her for her to finally switch to the offense?

The tip of her saber was shaking, her stamina running low.

With the ease of swatting a fly, Darth Kharopos knocked the saber out of her hands. Scowling, he walked away, not pausing to glance back..

*******

Something was different. Clearly, something had changed.

Yet, it was less of a change or a growth and more of a pot bubbling over, the pressure and the heat exploding, the fragile cage of a badly crafted glass teapot cracking, its jagged shards flying into the wall before smashing into sharp little pieces.

Something flared in her eyes and her single red blade came to life, slashing in his direction.

He stepped right and striked left. She jumped back, moving like a spooked jungle-cat, before bouncing back forward with an unexpected speed and thrusted her saber towards his form. He blocked her, catching her blade with the end of his own. Her stance buckled under his strength, and so she slid her saber away but not before suddenly twisting her grips - shifting form, right in the heat of combat, inches away from her enemy - and plunging the blade into where he stood. Darth Kharopos spun his double-bladed saber, creating a quick shield that deflected away Yennevyr’s weapon.

The weapon flew out of her hand.

He felt her clearly. Frustration. Loathing. Wrath.

Their force bond was never this strong, but now he could feel her closer than ever. The way her heart raced, the blood thumping in her ears, her ragged breath and barely held back sobs- it was a dam broken loose, her force presence like a whirlpool throwing the cold serenity of his mind into chaos. Decades of careful restraint and calculating control kept him from drowning in the waves of her emotions.

Yennevyr, with her lithe form and dancer physique, sent a butterfly kick towards his head. Darth Kharopos reeled back. He could’ve blocked her again, that he was more than capable of- but his senses were screaming, alarm bells ringing.

With that distraction - that uncharacteristic distraction, that daring, was so different from the cautious acrobat who used to dance in and out of his range - she summoned her saber back, the hilt smacking into her palm with a loud slap. Fluid like water, she leaped and swung the saber like a guillotine axe above his head. Eyes wide, Darth Kharopos raised his saber up to form a cover, digging his feet into the sand below as the impact hit him. Yennevyr was not relenting.

Her eyes were scarlet. Those amber orbs now glowed red, the color looking like freshly spilt blood against her snow-pale skin. It reminded him of the first time he saw a total lunar eclipse: the moon bled red, as if someone had stabbed its white soil and the wound began gushing glistening ruby.

He let her hit him.

*******

Despair was an emotion Darth Kharopos never experienced, not truly and certainly not personally. Whether that was an indication of mental strength or privilege, he didn’t know.

Lord Atala’s death hit them all hard; the empty space where his mother once stood still felt like a void. Darth Kratais second marriage with Darth Labrys could never fill that gnawing, missing hole, but the woman’s hands were tender and her gaze was warm and when she whispered words of comfort to him, it felt like he had a mother again. Her presence had gentled his father’s severe disposition, and when she brought about his half-sister - Tatyan - into the world, the younger Sith Pureblood felt like a tiny bird fluttering in his palms. She truly was worth protecting.

When his father passed, it felt like a bad dream had come again.

Except this time, mother was grieving and Tatyan was bawling and they all cried together.

“Never show weakness in front of outsiders”, Darth Labrys said. “But here, we’re family.”

Because of family, he’d never known despair.

He was used to inflicting it upon others, though.

Hearing prisoners beg for death, attempting to gouge their eyes out as if the act could wipe away the vision of seeing their loved ones writhing as lightning tore through them, was something he’d grown accustomed to. He saw it coming like a holofilm in slow-motion: the moment where a war veteran’s mind was about to break, their will and determination ready to be shattered into dust at just a single jab. He always made sure their descent into madness was quick- no need to prolong the suffering. Genuine torture was only reserved for the worst of his enemies. It was satisfying, forcing some arrogant Republic general to their knees and making them scream, or exposing some tough Jedi for the weakling they were, like ripping open a bandage to reveal the ugly pus beneath.

How then, had he become so numb to the agony of others, that he missed seeing the same signs in his apprentice?

She was in despair, so upset she wished she’d died.

The circular burns on her arms looked like the ones he was used to inflicting upon Republic foes. It was an easy interrogation technique: stamping a recently deactivated lightsaber onto bare skin, the still-hot metal like a sizzling brand. And when he gazed into her eyes (oh sweet Yennevyr, when was the last time he truly looked at her?), they were dead. Empty glass orbs that had given up on life, if only her heart would just stop beating and give up on her too.

“Do I disappoint you, my lord?”

There was no mockery, no snippy retort in her voice, only pain.

*******

“I’ve always wondered how the law would work out in the long run,” Darth Labrys said, her voice lilting through the holocall. She was referring to the law to bolster Imperial ranks with worthy slaves and aliens, the law which also applied to the Sith. “You can’t expect a slave or a foreigner with no background, no exposure to Sith culture or history to integrate smoothly into Sith society without intervention, much less demand top performances from them.”

Not to mention the consequence of overwhelming power suddenly awakening within someone never taught to wield it, Darth Kharopos thought. The dark side was intoxicating, and one could lose themselves to everything from bloodlust to misery.

“I’m not advising you to go easy on her… but do be understanding, Tyrkos.”

His mother warned that even with the best medicine or therapy available, it would take time, and heavens knew that the Sith journey was already difficult enough, requiring one to fall apart and be reborn from the ashes, to kill who you were for what you could become.

Trust between Sith, especially master and apprentices, was rare. Now, he doubted she’d ever place her faith in him beyond hoping to one day take his place.

*******

Is this how I die? Darth Kharopos thought.

Every breath felt like hot knives stabbing his lungs. The rebreather was dying on him, for he could taste soot in his mouth. Collapsed against the cool floor of his hideout, back leaning against a bloodied wall, his apprentice loomed over him. How embarrassing, for his apprentice to see him so helpless.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she cried out. “Master!”

He thought he’d take that secret to the grave, to ensure that the fallout was minimal. Sith Pureblood, heir to the Rosokor family, involved in a light-side conspiracy. Should he be exposed, the Dark Council would have his mother’s and sister’s heads.

He pleaded for her to understand.

And if she didn’t, he wouldn’t blame her.

Her left hand clutched his holocommunicator where the damning evidence of his treachery laid, and in her right hand was the scarlet lightsaber, poised for execution. In the months under his tutelage, she’d grown into a stunningly beautiful Sith assassin indeed.

He closed his eyes.

“Tell me how to help.”

In shock, his eyes snapped open.

Her eyebrows were scrunched up but whether in anxiety or concern, he could not tell. There was a flush in her cheeks, and wildness in her eyes. Against his every expectation, Yennevyr chose mercy. She chose a chance at the Light. She chose him.

Master, did you not choose me, on Korriban? You saw something in me. I see something in you, too.

*******

Yennevyr hated mopping up blood. She had watched her late father’s maids do it all the time, his underlings scrubbing a crime scene clean. She later played the role of the domestic servant, doing the same back when she was enslaved under the Hutts, whether it be with spilled drinks or bloodstains from a brawl. She wasn’t afraid of blood- the coppery stench just smelled revolting.

Her master bled liters, the liquid forming sticky pools beneath his broken body. Sealing the wound wasn’t too difficult once she found the medkit, although her clumsy handiwork would definitely leave a scar. What was even more concerning was her master’s breathing, the fact that it sounded agonizingly labored and worryingly irregular.

With effort, they managed to haul their way to the hideout’s medical wing before he slipped into unconsciousness.

When his armor was stripped away and it was only his form in plain robes on the simple bed, her master looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him. Heavy fatigue was written all over his sleeping face. It reminded her of those times she woke up especially early to see the Kaasian sunrise, the soft orange peaking through grey, stormy clouds. Some days, she deduced how master had been running some secret errands the night before, and she’d spot him limping home, his feet dragging, with an uncharacteristic slouch burdening his usually proud posture. Logically, she knew her master was no more or less a person than her, but to glimpse him tired and worn out had shocked her.

She spent the night by his side, the implications of her actions becoming clearer with each passing moment.

To reform the Sith society from inside out, she thought. A lofty dream. When did I become such a cynic?

With curious eyes, she glanced at her master’s resting form, the sound of his still ragged breathing filling the room. She wouldn’t even need a lightsaber; all she had to do was wrap her hands around his neck, and squeeze. She wondered if suffocation felt like sleep.

Oh, will I ever see you this vulnerable again?

Instead, she gingerly placed a palm on top of his limp hand, entangling her fingers with his. His hand was warm.

*******

After the suspicious death of Darth Jadus, Darth Zhorrid - in her sick ways - sought to consolidate her position as a Dark Lord of the Sith.

As if the Council would stand her, Yen scoffed. After they’ve sucked her dry of whatever knowledge Jadus may have passed down to his daughter, she’s dead.

It was no secret that her master disagreed with many of the actions taken by Darth Jadus, but he’d always respected the chain of command, bowing whenever the Dark Councillor requested his presence, amicable before his superiors. This time, however, Darth Zhorrid asked for her master and would not expect anything less than absolute submission.

“Wait outside, Yennevyr. Do not interfere no matter what happens.”

Many may claim force cloaking to be an act of defense, like the Jedi Shadows who’d rather sneak past their foes than needlessly spill blood. Perhaps she truly was like that, in the past. Eager to run, to dart in and out unseen. Conflict-avoidant.

But a cloak was also a tool, like a viper’s green scales that blended into the grass, obscuring fangs and venom. To take it a step further: force cloaking was manipulation. It was to force upon someone a false visage, to bend the mind of onlookers to the point of them rejecting the evidence of their own eyes, denying the existence of a sword pointed at their head. On Korriban, Yen had figured out how to twist her force cloak, inverting it so that her opponents’ visions were plunged into darkness and the world became invisible to them.

It only took hearing her master scream for the first time for her cloak to become a dress.

The scent of ozone reeked through the semi-closed office door. By god, no matter how many times in the past she’d angrily fumed - fantasizing of sweet it would be to give her master a taste of his own medicine - actually hearing her master who had just barely recovered from his previous ordeal now screaming under the powers of some bratty Darth who probably did not even deserve that title...

Yen’s hands curled into a fist, and she was surprised by the anxious lump that formed in her throat. She took in a sharp inhale and when she breathed out, the Force coiled around her like serpentine tendrils, slick and cool. Shadows rested around her shoulder blades like a fashionista’s scarf.

Or for her enemies, a noose.

When her master stumbled out of Darth Zhorrid’s office, a hand clutching at his side, she took the opportunity to peer into the slit of the half-opened office door and caught the Dark Councillor’s sadistic gaze. Yen gave a smile.

*******

Yen had always been good at force cloaking. But this time, instead of projecting the lie of invisibility, she’d chosen an illusion- a glamour, a mirage. To project something false into the world required unwavering will and mastery over that image.

Her mask was fueled by hatred.

Never had she thought she’d one day hate anyone more that she hated the Hutts or herself, until she met Darth Zhorrid. That pathetic mix of insecurity and sadism was infuriating. She had read up on Darth Jadus’ treatment of his daughter. It took everything for her not to barge into that office and wring that sick woman by the neck and ask her if she thought she was the only one who had ever faced abuse. Everyone faced pain at some point in their life. Suffering was the story of all beings, especially so if you were Sith. Yet, when she hated herself, Yen only hurt herself. Unlike Zhorrid, she’d never tortured others as a way to lessen her own pain, to hide her weakness.

And for that, Yen wished Zhorrid was dead.

But not before providing use for her and her master, of course.

Wearing the Force - the fabric of the universe - as if it was a garment, was an act of complete domination. With a smile, she had sparked a flame of interest within Zhorrid. With a light touch of her fingers, she’d quicken or calm the Dark Lord’s pulse, the woman’s heartbeat hers to command at her pleasure. In a blink of an eye, Zhorrid would forgive her master for any misdeeds he’d supposedly done, and most importantly, Zhorrid would leave him alone.

Why pay attention to some grumpy old Sith when the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen was standing there in front of her eyes?

A drugged cupcake ready to be eaten.

Darth Kharopos felt his stomach sinking when he received the holocall requesting that Yennevyr go meet Darth Zhorrid in her chambers. His muscles tightened, as if readying for battle. He wasn’t scared of that snooty brat; anything she threw his way he could take. But Yen, his student, his ward, his protege, his apprentice-

She was smiling.

The Force swirled around her, draped all over her form like a dress blowing in the wind. It was as if she wore a robe of woven flesh, of slithering serpents and tendrils that wrap and cling and coil. There was a gleam in Yen’s eyes, her russet eyes mirthful, radiating confidence. The last time he remembered seeing his apprentice so self-assured was when he was bleeding on the cool tiled floors, her red lightsaber hanging over his head like a bloody guillotine.

“My lord, I am every bit your apprentice. Trust that you’ve taught me well.”

When Darth Kharopos was later summoned to Darth Zhorrid’s office, Yennevyr sat on Zhorrid’s lap like an overpriced poodle. What Zhorrid did not see was the undulating threads latching onto her, their ends sinking into Zhorrid’s skin like a snake’s fangs, or parasites whose teeth pierced her bloodstream, draining her dry.

“Ah, you’re here, Darth Kharopos,” Zhorrid said with a grin. “Very good, you look very nice indeed, perfect for the job.”

Darth Kharopos only nodded, his eyes glued to Zhorrid’s pale hand which stroked Yen’s hair as if she was some exotic pet.

“I need you to look into two places: Belsavis, and the Arcanum.”

Belsavis was a tightly guarded secret he was privy to knowing, but his heart skipped a beat when he heard the name ‘Arcanum’. The Emperor’s property. Jedis have died to get a glimpse of the space station, and there were words of a rogue Dread Master recently robbing the place. Was it even under Intelligence’s jurisdiction?

A squeal snapped him from his thoughts.

“So you do know about the Arcanum!”

Her voice went from a slimy purr to an abrupt shriek. He felt a hard shove and invisible cold fists pinning him to the wall. His legs hung in the air, and he glared at that wretched woman.

“My lord,” Yennevyr murmured, her doe-like eyes widening at Darth Zhorrid. “My master’s a Darth of Imperial Intelligence. Is it not his role to know all that is going on?”

The pressure released and soon he was free. Zhorrid made a noise of agreement, muttering ‘Yes, yes… you’re right, of course.”

Zhorrid began ranting, a semi-coherent monologue punctuated with giggles and sudden screeches on the unfairness of her fate and the need to prove her worth to the Dark Council. Before her anger boiled over, a force tendril planted soft kisses on Zhorrid’s lips, quieting the woman’s anxiety in one swift move.

When the Dark Councillor appeared distracted, Darth Kharopos broke eye contact and glanced at his apprentice. He suppressed a shudder, seeing the predatory glint in Yennevyr’s eyes. Everyday, they grew more scarlet.

You will drink my words, or I will pour them down your throat.

*******

Belsavis he took care of alone, but as per Darth Zhorrid’s orders, he allowed Yennevyr to accompany him on the mission to the Arcanum. It was perfect: with every eye glued to the young rising-star commander, a Sith not-yet-a-lord with the bewitching presence of a black hole, nobody noticed him slipping away, leaking whatever information he could find on the Emperor to Republic SIS. His heart thundered the whole way, but every time he looked at Yennevyr - black hair tied up in a bun, a saber and light armor ready for combat - he felt like he could breathe easy again.

The mission was a success. They tracked the thief, Lord Tagriss, down to Ilum. His dualsaber stabbed a hole in the Sith Lord’s chest, and he felt his apprentice’s pride flared through their bond the moment Lord Tagriss’ dead husk fell into the snow.

When they returned home, she was ready to be a Lord.

“From this day onwards, you are known as Lord Soteira,” he declared, his apprentice kneeling before him. “It means savior.”

His apprentice stood up. When she looked at him, something swirled in his chest.

You honed my blade and sharpened my edges until they are lethal. You scrubbed away the rust, and revealed the blood-soaked truth. Master, don’t feel guilty thinking you turned me into something I already wasn’t. I’ll try to reach for the Light as you want me to, my lord, but don’t pity me if I fail.

[terato-onlyfangs]

It hurts me so

Warnings: blood, angst but fluff

Words: 736

----

You weren't expecting this after work, pinned to the wall by your lover. The day was long, so uninspired. Yet this would have been exciting if he didn't have such cruel darkness swirling with just as dark thoughts in his already black eyes.

"Regis?", Panic rose in your frame. Not even sure if you should be scared of him or for him. But the harsh whirlpool and its vapors where smothering your already weak lungs.

" Love... Why do you come back to me? I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing. A monster bathed in blood."

The frown that crossed your face wasn't intentional. But you knew the thoughts that hurt him so. Nodding, the anxiety almost leaving you completely and having to be more concerned for your vampire lover. "Regis, I love you. You've changed so much that becoming your past will be harder than you think."

"I hope for anything that hears my prayers that you're right, I'm weak and in pain darling.", Regis sighed then growled softly. Perhaps he was trying to scare you or he was just fearing himself. You didn't know, but you felt pity, understanding the pain, but you didn't know how it fully felt. However, it must be terrifying. Regis wouldn't want the pity, no he would avoid it if he can. That you knew would still fit in this situation.

"It's fine, I understand you're going through a rough time.", softly placing a kiss to his chin, then littering down to his neck. A purr came out of Regis, though feeling awful from his thoughts and recent actions. He didn't deserve it. But you sure as hell did. "You're too good to me.", leaving you speechless as he kissed you sweetly and picking you up bridal style. You forget that his appearance is deceiving as he was scrawny and an average built, but stronger than any human man. But now do you realize that he wasn't wearing a shirt, showing off his decorated torso. Until he sat down in a chair, covering both of you up. All snuggled up in his arms. Happy but still rather concerned.

"Tell me, how did your work go today?"

"Hmm, exhausting. Cleaned some throw-up, but I got to pet a cat. So it wasn't that bad." Regis laughs at your sight sarcasm. "I thought cleaning puke was the highlight of your day.", Regis joked, differently feeling better now. " Nothing slips by you, huh?", you joked instead of being sarcastic. Both of you laughed. Soon Regis buried his head in your nape, drowning in your scent and your stories check out.

The snarl left, confusing you once more. You did notice he did look livelier, which was odd. Regis was frustrated, most likely at himself.

"Darling, you have changed since your youth."

Regis sighed, "But have I?"

"Yes, you have Regis."

"You haven't seen my younger self.. Ah, and I have abused blood once again."

"Regis, what do you mean? Did you-"

"Pigs blood. Not human.", Still he answered, though he looked rather miserable. But you took the chance to cup his face, feeling his mutton chops. Softly you kissed the top of his nose, then up the bridge to his forehead.

"Drinking blood does not make you a monster."

Your lover gave a short nod, closing his eyes. He started to cry, this kindness, this acceptance hurt in a way, yet relieving all at once. He took your head. Putting it on his shoulder as he pressed his cheek to your head. Letting his tears run out, but to still comfort him you rubbed his back, kissing his shoulder as well. You loved him so much, but damn seeing him in pain hurts you the most. Yet you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I do not deserve you"

"Yes, you do, I'm glad that we meet. That I'm here with you."

Regis hiccuped through his tears, hugging you tightly and moving his head into your shoulders. Which were now painfully wet. But you took his head, rubbing his head as he heaved his woes away. For a while, you two of you stayed like this. Holding him, until he sobered up.

"I love you dearly."

"I love you dearly too"

Regis removed his head from you, softly smiling at you, showing his fangs. His once dark eyes are a lot softer now. His pupils dilated, definitely in a much better mood.

----

For the full story go on my ao3 :)

[saixy]

fears

Post-KH3. A parallel between past and present. Isa looks back on his old worries as a child, and how this fear shifted over time.

- - - - -

“What’s your biggest fear?”

It was a question prompted by a game they often liked to play while stargazing: truth or dare. The former was typically easiest for him, since the very prospect of Lea’s outlandish dares sparked anxiety. “Death,” Isa eventually answered, albeit reluctantly. “Or rather, the thought of nonexistence.” He had never really spoken on the matter before. There had been no need, as their conversations were predominantly lighthearted in nature. Isa preferred to keep things like this to himself, for the most part. Lea wore his heart on his sleeve, but Isa prided himself on being difficult to read. Lea was seemingly exempt from this rule. Annoying as it could be, Isa was glad for someone who could understand him to such an extent. “Why? We’re immortal, remember?” It was a ridiculous notion, one that Lea seemed rather fond of. Immortality had been a joke between them for a long while now, prompted by Lea’s miraculous ability to escape stupidly risky situations with little more than a scratch. Isa snorted with thinly veiled amusement. “What are you talking about? Everyone dies, Lea.” “Hey, don’t say that.” Lea shifted to a sitting position, leaning over Isa with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Isa craned his neck to the side, as Lea’s face was now blocking his view of the sky. “Right, sorry. You can live forever in memories, stuff like that.” Lea had always been rather adamant on that subject, more so than anything else they had debated. Isa suspected it played into his own fears, but had never sought confirmation. Lea moved his head again, leaning in closer to place himself at the forefront of Isa’s vision. “Memories are everything, but that’s not what I’m saying here.” He still wore that odd, almost somber expression. “I meant that we’re immortal.”

“That’s not an explanation and you know it.” Isa was impatient and somewhat flustered at the sudden invasion of personal space, but he willed himself to keep his cool. “Us. You and me. Ya know. Like—“ Lea gestured helplessly, waving an arm at the sky overhead. “Like soulmates.” There was a pause, where Isa was rendered temporarily mute from the boldness of the suggestion. “We’ve been dating for less than a week,” he finally said in an incredulous tone. “Shut up! Not just in that way—“ Isa noted the ‘just’ as a sign he had meant it at least partially in a romantic sense. “I mean..I can’t really explain it, but. I feel like no matter what happens, we’ll always be together.” There was a fierce glint in Lea’s eyes, and it was clear his words were sincere. Isa responded in turn, lifting a hand to idly twirl a bit of Lea’s hair that had fallen loose near his face. “If it’s death we’re dealing with, I can’t deny that’s a possibility.” Personally Isa never had expectations for any sort of afterlife, but he was open-minded. “But what about the other thing? Ceasing to exist completely. Losing your identity--your very sense of self-- and never knowing because you wouldn’t be around to comprehend it.” Isa wouldn’t admit it, but this was the aspect of passing on that unsettled him the most. The thought that he could just blink out one day with no warning. Or even worse, without realizing it. Carrying on as a mindless puppet blissfully unaware he had already met his end. That was the plot of the only horror movie that had ever truly frightened him, and it had been lingering in his mind ever since. Isa closed his eyes, shutting out the sun for a moment as he struggled against the whirlpool of mounting panic threatening to drag him down. There was a reason why he never talked about things like this. “Hey,” Lea ghosted fingers across his cheek, searching for tears that Isa absolutely refused to allow. He wasn’t even choked up at all, but it seemed like Lea could sense this was a difficult topic for him. “Forever means forever. Got it memorized?” “You’re being stubborn.” “I am. So what?” “You’re always like this. Especially with the topic at hand, I’ve noticed.” “And you love me for it.” A rather blunt statement for such a new concept to them. Although it wasn’t new at all, not really. They’d always cared deeply for each other, and this was just a previously untouched way of expressing it. “That I do.” Isa hesitated, realizing the boy hovering above him had dodged the point yet again, no doubt purposefully. He wondered if he should push the matter, but decided against it. Instead he leaned forwards slightly, closing the gap between them. It wasn’t their first kiss, and it wouldn’t be their last. But it still had a sense of finality to it, one that Isa could sense even back then. It was as if in that moment, their fate had been sealed. Two things Lea had said that night would stick in Isa’s head over the next decade, becoming a mantra of sorts. Forever is forever, and memories are everything.

- - - - -

It was mostly brief, instinctive flashes of thought and feeling. Rather than concrete memories, they were similar to the lingering remnants of a dream. The more Isa tried to chase them, the more they drifted out of reach. Sometimes he would stare a little too long at the hazy amber reflection of streetlights on rainy pavement, or freeze at the passing sound of a stranger’s laugh. Isa didn’t need to put it into words, and he was grateful for that. Lea seemed to instinctively understand. He had always been good at empathizing with others, a skill Isa had lacked. And so whenever he was struck with one of these odd moments, Lea would wait for him. Always patient, an unwavering beacon of support. Lea helped drag him back down to earth, tying him to the life he had now rather than painful echoes of the past.

And it was a good life, a better one than he’d ever realistically expected. He was home again, finally free from suffocating white walls and the cloying stench of darkness. Reconstruction of the city still had a long way to go, but the Restoration Committee had already made considerable progress in the few years since Radiant Garden was reclaimed. Isa had even managed to snag a spot on their management team, allocating resources where they were needed most and deciding which parts of the city’s old layout to keep and what could be improved upon. He quite enjoyed the work, more so than what he’d initially anticipated going into it. The labor was slow, but ultimately productive. And something that held a lot of meaning to him. It was no dream astronomy job, but he was happy.

The highlight of his day would always be returning to his house, a cozy little abode near the fountain district. The site of their former homes lay further away from the city center, in a segment of the city that had been all but razed to the ground. The higher ups had deemed it a low priority area, which Isa was determined to change. But for now, this location was perfect. Moving in with Lea had been an easy decision, and when Ansem had offered them the house as reparation for the horrors they’d been subjected to as children, he could hardly refuse. Roxas and Xion had an apartment where they attended school in Twilight Town, which was also funded by the castle’s reserves. On breaks and weekends they frequented Radiant Garden, and Isa often flew to Twilight Town after work to hang out or assist them with projects. At first he only visited alongside Lea, but as the awkwardness faded and they settled into more of a family dynamic, Isa would fly over of his own accord. Being split between two cities like this wasn’t ideal, but Isa’s heart and responsibilities lay in Radiant Garden and he couldn't ask those kids to give up the place that had always felt like home to them. They deserved what had been stolen from Lea and himself so long ago: the chance to grow up at their own pace in a safe town surrounded by those who care about them.

It was hard not to think back when he was constantly surrounded with so many reminders of his past. This was a caveat of choosing to live where he’d both grown up and lost his heart. There were memories tied to everything around him. A street where they found a stray dog once, a storm drain that had claimed Lea’s favorite frisbee and led to an impromptu journey through the sewers. These flashes were mostly pleasant, if bittersweet, snapshots into their former life. The painful memories were there too, mainly tied to the castle itself. Working there was stressful at first, but he managed. Isa avoided the labs, and everyone respected this. From the start, it had become obvious that honesty would be a necessity with this arrangement. It was still a struggle to be open even with himself after spending so long shutting people out, but Isa made an effort to try. So he voiced what made him uncomfortable, and confided in his friends whenever he was struggling. He would often reminisce with Lea when they were together. But sometimes he still preferred to ponder things alone. This was one of those nights, as he sat on a fountain’s edge gazing down at the rippling reflection of the moon. During his childhood he had always been somewhat reserved. He was the model student, in the eyes of many. Never afraid to state his opinion when asked, but often choosing to hang back in favor of watching his classmates. Isa felt as if he learned more by analyzing the classroom than from the teachers themselves. He could easily spot the holes in the other student’s arguments and use them to amend and strengthen his own. The process was simple, and one he knew all too well. Observe, pinpoint a weakness, execute. Again, one of those things that stirred up almost-memories. It was bitter ash on his tongue and a glint of steel in the moonlight. A wolf stalking its prey for days on end until it finally determined the optimal moment to lunge for the killing blow and drown the world in gold. Muffled sobs torn out by a blade as ruthless as its owner. It had been easier when he wasn’t in control. Terrifying at first, but he eventually found comfort in the moments where his mind buzzed to static. It was painfully ironic how quickly he had come to accept this fear of losing himself. He was always somewhat present, but his body was on autopilot. ‘Plausible deniability’ was one of the phrases that had been thrown around after the war was won. Many on the side of the keyblade wielders were sympathetic to his position, but there were also those who voted against the pardoning of himself and the others that had been tied up in Xehanort’s plans. In their eyes he was simply a byproduct of darkness, broken beyond repair. Xehanort was dead, so they wanted a scapegoat. It was only natural. The need for blame was understandable, so Isa paid no mind to the glares he sometimes received walking through the city streets. Radiant Garden had suffered greatly, more so than the other worlds claimed by darkness. The Fall happened so swiftly not all were able to relocate in time. And with Ansem and the castle guard opting for a seige approach, the citizens were left to fend for themselves. Many were reborn in a similar fashion to Isa and the rest, but not all. This great loss of life was what drove him forwards in his work to help others, despite the scorn he often received. Once he’d have been outraged to take the blame for a calamity beyond his control, but now Isa carried that weight with a weary acceptance. Of course they all struggled with their own demons, some worse than others. It was their burden to bear, and Isa was fine with it. He was lucky, all things considered. After everything he had still managed to regain his heart, body, and mind. He had a family now, and he loved them more than anything. The sun, the moon, and their two stars shining through the twilight mist. It was a picturesque ending, one fit for a storybook. It was more than he could have ever hoped for. It was entirely unfair. He still felt this lingering sense of dread, as if he shouldn’t be here. Similar to when Lea had dragged him into various schemes of dubious legality in days gone by. Sometimes he entered his own house and for an instant he was holding his breath behind a hedge on the castle grounds. Arguing the technicalities of blame was a fruitless endeavor, as it would do little to ease the crushing weight of guilt that had settled deep within his chest. His memories were fragmented, but he was still very much aware of his own actions within the Organization. He knew the series of events and how everything had played out, but had difficulty recalling anything beyond an impersonal recap. His own thoughts and ghosts of emotions he may have felt at the time were still a mystery for the most part. It seemed Lea had no issues with this, and as such Isa suspected the lack of memories regarding individuality was a result of Xehanort’s prolonged influence over his mind. As far as he knew Terra was the only one who described a similar experience, which only strengthened this theory. He supposed the automatic distance was nice, in a way. It helped build a concrete separation between Saix of the past and himself in the present. Still, at times the cold numbness made him sick. He was working from the facts here, and could only guess at the reasoning behind some of his past actions. Back then he’d convinced himself that miserable state of existence had split him into a being of pure logic. After all, there were no longer any emotions to interfere with his decisions. Nothing to sway him from what must be done. Oh how wrong he was. In retrospect he felt like a fool, denying what had been in plain sight for so long.

Roxas and Xion had made Axel truly feel something again. Tangible, undeniable emotion that defied all reason. And now Isa realized they were to thank for his own shift in demeanor, near the end. Axel’s first taste of emotion had been love for his newfound family. The need to protect what was in front of him had outweighed the tired notion of striving for a seemingly unreachable goal. Years of hard work had granted very little progress in regaining their hearts or finding the girl once held in captivity. And tired of chasing ghosts, Lea had latched onto the present moment and found a cause that could light the spark he’d been seeking for so long. Isa wasn’t so lucky. This pathetic shadow of a heart had manifested itself as jealousy, sharp and bitter. And only then could he feel the underlying anger that had been driving him forward for so long. It was rage beyond reason, a swift undercurrent threatening to overwhelm his senses at any moment. And when he did allow it to take control, it was different from before. Berserking had once sent his consciousness into a state of almost peaceful dissociation. Now it was like wading through a river of dissonance, icy tar filling his lungs as a whirlpool of screams sucked him down into the murky depths. And this Styx became his own personal hell, something he dreaded. Because it made no sense why he’d be struggling with this now, after years of brutal training had hardened his edges and honed him to flawless lethality. The fighting style he’d mastered was hinged on relinquishing control, but he’d never actually felt unsafe while doing so. What had he worked so hard for all these years if his own mind would prove to be his downfall? During those few moments of lucidity in the final battle, he could do little more than hold his head and cry out in agony as daggers pierced his skull and keyblades rained down from above. A call for help, manifesting itself in the only way he knew how. And it had worked, in the end. Despite everything Lea was once again hovering over him, blocking out the sky with his own blinding light. That tearful smile sweetened the taste of death, and the following kiss moments before he faded finally left him with a reason to pray to whatever tyrant god responsible for these endless years of pain for another chance at life. Maybe immortality wasn’t so far from the truth after all.

“You’re upset.”

The sudden voice echoing through the courtyard startled Isa from his thoughts, but he quickly relaxed at the familiar tone. He gave a noncommittal hum, watching Lea approach the fountain where he sat. “I haven’t said a word.”

“Don’t need to.” Lea took a seat beside him, wincing at the shock from the fountain’s spray. Isa was wearing a jacket that slicked off the stray droplets, but Lea’s sweater would no doubt end up soaked. “It’s the way you’re sitting. Like you’re trying to make yourself as small as possible.”

Crossed arms held close to his chest, one leg propped over the other. Isa hadn’t even realized he was so tense until he had been called out on it. “I trust you’re not just here to analyze my body language?”

“Nah.” Before Isa could ask, Lea offered the reasoning behind his deduction. “You never sat like that before. Only during the later years of the Organization.”

Right, one of Saix’s mannerisms. Or rather, Xehanort’s. He hurriedly uncrossed his arms, instead choosing to grip the edge of the fountain. The stone was cold and damp against his bare skin, and he welcomed the sensation. It was the little things like this that unsettled him the most. How easily one could fall back into learned behavior. “Why do you have to be so damn perceptive?”

“It’s part of the charm.” Lea wasn’t wrong there. And honestly, Isa wouldn’t have it any other way. Flashing a warm smile, Lea rested a hand on his shoulder. The gentle weight was reassuring. Isa closed his eyes in return, leaning into the touch.

“You know I’m here if talking would help.”

He’d been trying to open up more, for the sake of both of them. The hardest part was figuring out where to begin unravelling the tangled knot wound deep within his heart. But Isa was quieter now, overall. Or so he had been told. He hadn’t noticed a difference until Lea had pointed it out recently. Now that he was aware of the change, he could definitely see it for himself. Where he once would have chimed in with a quick jab or retort there was only silence. Isa found that during these moments, he was simply unsure of what to say and when to say it. He was more hesitant now, afraid of speaking out of turn and accidentally causing harm. The banter between himself and Lea had always felt so effortless, but now it was halting and unsure. They had moved past walking on eggshells long ago, but now Isa was treading on a self-imposed path of fine china. He knew they’d move beyond this too, eventually. When more time had passed and old wounds had the chance to heal over. Recovery was an ongoing process, and they were both very aware of this. He’d learned that honesty was an important step in building back those bridges, so this time Isa decided to share what was on his mind. Talking things over with Lea almost always made him feel better. Rather than take him up on the offer directly, he went for a different approach.

“Hey Lea. Truth or dare?”

“Wait, what? Where’s this coming from?” Lea raised an eyebrow, obviously confused at the question. At Isa’s glare, understanding seemed to dawn upon him. “Oh. Well, I’m feeling like this is a truth sort of night.” In their childhood Lea had always favored dares, much to Isa’s chagrin. Thankfully he caught the drift here.

“Do you still believe it? What you used to say when we were young. Memories are everything.” He called back to the old quote so casually, as if he hadn’t been repeating it over and over when memories were all he had to remind him why life was something worth fighting for.

Lea spent a few moments in silence, gathering his thoughts. Isa took the opportunity to lay flat against the stone wall, head resting in Lea’s lap as he faced the sky. Since his return to Radiant Garden, stargazing had quickly reclaimed its place as one of his favorite pastimes. The familiar view brought with it a certain sense of stability and comfort.

When Lea finally spoke, he lowered a hand to settle lightly in Isa’s hair. “Memories are important, but they can’t define us completely. It’s a double-edged blade. The effect you leave behind on people-- it can be a gift, but just as easily cause harm. And sometimes you misjudge.”

“It wasn’t all an oversight.” And that was the sickening part, what fueled the guilt that often kept him awake at night. There was a time where he’d knowingly hurt those who were now closest to him. And so many others he’d never see again. Innocent bystanders caught in the carnage of a struggle that was not their own. There was no way to tell for sure how much blood was on his hands, and Isa wasn’t sure he’d want to know even if it were possible.

“Of course not. Conflict is...it’s cruel, Isa.” There was a slight tug as the hand moved to stroke downwards, gently combing through his hair. This was a new method of comfort, one that Lea had quickly picked up on when they’d been reunited after the war. “The important thing is to cherish the good moments and learn from the bad.”

It was true that Isa had learned a lot throughout this whole ordeal. About himself, the world as a whole, and his relationships with others. He was still struggling for self-acceptance, but at least he had a better understanding of things than before. He was able to identify exactly what had led him to the eventual downfall that had nearly severed his bond with Lea. Now that he’d strayed onto the wrong path he could move forwards along a better one, making amends wherever possible. They had made an oath then, when Isa had first regained consciousness. Joint sobs echoing through laboratory halls as they swore to never allow anything or anybody to tear them apart again.

“My turn now. Truth or dare?”

At least he’d answered directly this time. Isa was satisfied, so he supposed a question in return was fair. “Is there a point in asking?”

“Well, yeah. Otherwise it’s not a game.” As if they were doing this for fun in the first place. Lea mulled over his options, still stroking through Isa’s hair. “When you wake during the night, you look so...terrified. What is it that you’re scared of?”

This question did catch him a bit off guard. Isa had never confided in him or anyone else about the nightmares. And Lea didn’t push him to say anything, always helping him through it without question. Speaking about it in the moment would only make the experience more painful, but Lea deserved to know. Maybe not the full details yet, but the recurring themes that caused him to panic.

From the direction these questions were taking Isa was sure Lea was also thinking back on that night so many years ago. It was one of the last they had spent together, perched on a rooftop in their favorite spot overlooking the castle gardens. He had known infiltrating the castle was a risky move, but neither of them could have ever guessed that only a few days later they would wind up as the next victims of the horrific experiments that had already claimed hundreds of innocent lives. So Isa looked back fondly on that last week or so, where the mounting pressure of continuing their investigation without being caught was briefly drowned out by the innocent joy of newfound love. He settled for a simple response, falling into Lea’s old habit of avoiding the real question at hand. “You asked this before.”

“And the answer?”

Isa should have known it would be pointless to try such tactics against the king of deflection himself. “...Dying is overrated.”

This earned a chuckle from Lea. Oh how he’d missed that sound. “You were able to face your fears, at least.”

“As for you?” This time Isa’s curiosity got the best of him. He might as well ask.

“Hey, it’s my turn to ask the questions here.” Lea paused from doting on Isa’s hair to leave a reprimanding tap on his nose. “...You’re right though, it’s the same for me. When we were kids, I...I really didn’t like the idea that I could ever lose you.” He smiled down at Isa, a bit sadly. “Guess that never changed.”

No matter how much Lea tried to hide it, Isa could still hear that lingering pain in his voice. Even during the quieter moments like this, emotions still ran high. It was so much better than not feeling at all, but almost a full year later and he still found himself adjusting. So when he spoke to open up in return, it was a struggle not to get choked up. “I wasn’t afraid of death as a concept, but more so the threat of losing myself. Now that I’ve lived out that reality...I’ve come to accept it.” It was still there, a distant possibility but present nonetheless. The lingering fear he would once again be dragged down by the mind of another. It would never truly disappear, but at least it was no longer a driving factor in his life. Isa refused to give that fear the opportunity to control him. “That’s not what haunts me now. Not exactly.” Now that he’d started, speaking like this was a lot easier. “I’m not frightened of myself, or the possibility of Xehanort’s shadow still lurking in my mind. I’m afraid that I’ll lose everything we’ve worked to rebuild. Our home, our family. Us.” There was no hiding the tremor in his voice, and this time when Lea shifted a hand to Isa’s cheek he was met with tears. Once he might have blamed it on the fountain spray, but now he valued such displays of emotion. It was a sign of life, a reminder that they could allow themselves to simply feel without shame or denial.

“Isa...I won’t let that happen.” Those words were spoken with so much conviction Isa could almost believe it.

“I know--I know. And yet...” His throat was tight again, and so he took a shuddering breath rather than try to finish the thought.

“That’s the thing about fear.” Lea was blotting out the stars again, a curtain of crimson to shield Isa from the world. “It can be irrational, but that doesn’t lessen the pain.”

Isa’s words were little more than a whisper. “For so long I’d assumed I was too far gone. I only feared that you would be taken away from me as well. That’s why it broke me, when...” he trailed off, as there was no need to further explain. They’d already discussed this and made amends, but speaking of past mistakes never got any easier.

“I’ll do anything to ensure you never have to feel that way again.” Lea’s voice took on a slightly grim edge, reminiscent of days gone by. Isa hadn’t heard that in a while, but here it was welcome.

Isa laughed breathlessly. “I’m the only one responsible this time around. And that’s the one thing you would never do. Hurt me.” After all, it was Isa’s own mind supplying the nightmares and the anxiety that followed him through the day.

“Inflicting pain isn’t the only solution.” Internal warfare like this wasn’t the type of combat they were accustomed to. Lashing out was all they’d been taught, and Isa still had to remind himself of this, even when the foes he faced were no longer a physical threat.

“Then what is?”

Lea’s silence spoke volumes here. Neither of them had all the answers, even if it was easier to pretend otherwise. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as Isa closed his eyes. The sun often had a blinding effect and now was one of the times where he had to look away for fear of making the pain worse.

“Love.”

Isa wasn’t expecting an answer, so his eyes flew open at that. Such a deceptively simple word for how drastically it had shaped his life. “I know you love me, but that won’t stop the nightmares.”

Lea moved his head closer to press lips against Isa’s forehead. “s’ not an instant fix.”

“Nothing ever is.” His breathing was steadier now, soothed by Lea’s touch.

“That’s not always a bad thing.” And it was true. If life’s problems were so easy to solve then he’d never have realized the how much of a difference embracing his emotions could make.

“Guess I’m a long-term project.” Isa dipped into that sense of dry humor as the darkness clutching at his heart began to retreat, warded off by the flame that had always lit up his life.

“You’d better be,” From the smile against his skin, Isa knew Lea was glad that the encouragement had finally managed to get through.

“I am. Because we’re immortal, right?” He managed to surprise Lea with that, and Isa savored the brief expression of wonder before it was drowned out by a proper kiss. And he suddenly understood what Lea had meant all those years ago.

[lesbianmonsterlover]

Waterfalls and Whirlpools (3)

Erin is pretty sure she’s going nuts, but at least the old school librarian is a peach who will take her mind off of it.

---

Erin’s sleep is fitful and filled with dreams of death and smoke, she isn’t sure from where.  She supposes her nightmares are another manifestation of her anxiety, and she’s concerned about whether she’s managed somehow to alienate the stranger on the other side of that book (or her second personality, but she’s not going to dwell on that possibility any longer than is absolutely necessary).  She’s never been great with social interaction, although somehow she feels as though she’s gotten worse and not better as the years have passed.  

Monday mornings have never been her favorite, even when she isn’t required to get up and head into work on that particular day it’s important to keep some semblance of a schedule.  So rolling out of bed at noon, as would be her preferred way to start the day, was out of the question.  No, instead she’s for whatever reason awake at eight in the morning without any real plans for the day other than “avoid the sun” after getting badly sunburned yesterday being so absorbed in the ‘conversation’ in the journal.

Pointedly ignoring the journal for now though Erin pads barefoot to the kitchen and starts on breakfast.  Still stinging a little from being abandoned mid-conversation, a feeling she’s a little too used to from the normal types of social interaction, she begins on some pancake batter.  Her figure and her therapist would tell you her relationship with food was not necessarily the healthiest.  Growing up, food had always been a source of comfort where there was otherwise a lack of support.  No friends?  Don’t worry, there’s still cake!  That habit persisted into adulthood, where we find her now making pancakes instead of confronting the uncomfortable reality of her most recent meaningful social interaction.  Let’s also ignore that talking through a book was her most recent meaningful social interaction, shall we?

As the griddle starts to heat up and the butter on it foams she pours the batter on in neat circles, humming to herself.  Pancakes used to be a family ritual, and it sends a bittersweet pang through her heart.  It’s warm and comforting to be sure, but she misses her father now more than ever.  A tall and imposing looking man, with a thick beard and heavy brow, but whose blue eyes would sparkle with joy and laughter whenever looking at her or her mother.  With a sigh Erin forces her attention back to the pancakes, finally ready to flip, and finds them perfectly golden brown on the first side.  “Thanks, daddy.”  She mumbles into the air, a soft sad smile on her face. 

It takes a few minutes to produce a tidy stack of pancakes and arrange them, appropriately buttered and stacked, onto a plate.  She takes the plate and silverware, along with a bottle of maple syrup, and sits cross legged in front of her coffee table on the soft carpet of the living room.  The TV is switched on and browsing through her choices she settles on some cartoon reruns and tunes out.  The pancakes are drowned in syrup, and the first perfectly fluffy bite makes her sigh in satisfaction.  By the time they’re gone she feels a little more awake and a little better.  She places the dishes into the sink to wash later, and as she moves to check the journal now that she feels a bit better she’s interrupted by her ringing phone.  The screen lights up with a local contact number and a name that seems familiar to some back portion of her brain.  “Hello?”

“Ah, hello dear!  It’s Catherine Forrester, I was hoping you could join me at the school today so we can begin going over the transition.  Summer school is in session so I thought it would be a good opportunity to get you used to the building before you start going it alone in the fall.”  Erin is pacing back and forth in front of the large window that overlooks the backyard.  

“Of course, Mrs. Forrester.  That sounds great, what time would you like me there?”  Chewing on the side of her thumb she listens to the older woman prattle on about the summer school session for a few minutes until she finally gets to the information Erin needed.

“So if you could come by around noon, while the kids are busy with lunch, that would be easiest I think.”  Erin hums in agreement before answering.

“Yes, of course, that makes total sense.  I’ll be there, I’m very excited to get started.”  Mrs. Forrester chirps back that she’s excited to meet Erin and to drive safely.  The journal is almost completely forgotten as Erin checks the clock only to see that it’s nearly eleven already.  With a groan of annoyance “why couldn’t she have called me just a little earlier…” Erin heads to the bathroom to shower, thankful that the water heater is full.  It only takes a minute for the water to get to a blessedly warm temperature, the bathroom beginning to fill with a light misting of steam, the mirrors slowly fogging up from the bottom.  

Erin showers as quickly as she can, although with the thick red curls on her head it still always takes longer than she’d like.  Once out she runs a towel through her hair and then a comb before pinning it up and out of the way, it’s quicker than trying to dry it.  Pawing through her closet she curses at herself for not doing laundry yet, as that green shirt dress would have been perfect.  Instead she settles for a slightly more structured dress in a pale blue cotton with little white flowers.  She smudges on enough makeup to look professional and put together, while hating that she has to do so in the first place, and by the time she’s out the door with her shoes on she’s left with ten minutes to make the drive. 

The school is situated on a plot of land just outside of the main town, a huge expanse of dedicated sports fields behind the quaint one-floor complex makes up a large portion of the footprint.  The school itself is small, but encompasses k-12.  Considering how small the town itself is the class sizes are tiny, even considering the surrounding small towns bus their kids here.  The parking lot has a smattering of cars in it, and Erin finds a shady patch to pull her car into before easing into park and pulling down the vanity mirror.  

A deep breath, in and out, repeated a few times, helps her feel ready.  “Alright, you know what you’re doing, you’re ready for this.”  Nodding to herself she flips the mirror up and grabs her bag before exiting the car and making the long walk to the front doors of the school.  The library is easy to find with the verbal directions Mrs. Forrester had given, and it’s 11:58 when Erin walks through the library doors. 

“Ah, Ms. Curett, thank you for joining me on such short notice!  Oh you look lovely.”  Erin is greeted with an enthusiastic embrace and a kiss on each cheek from the shorter older woman.  Catherine Forrester is a spry woman of nearly ninety.  At eighty seven you’d have thought she would be at home being doted on by her family, but she loved working too much to give it up.  Now though, she’s feeling her age a little too much.  It was getting harder and harder to chase after the children and keep order, especially when it came to the troublemakers of the school: ie those who would be forced to come back for summer school.  She’s short and slight, with a mane of long white hair she’s left loose hanging down her back.  Her face is wrinkled with laugh lines, the sign of a happy and full life, and her knobby hands are covered in silver rings and bracelets.  She’s dressed in long flowing skirts and blouses and looks like she spent her twenties and thirties as a hippie, and just never gave it up.  

Erin is mesmerized momentarily by the way her bracelets jingle when she walks, and the way the light catches her ice white hair.  Mrs. Forrester is beautiful in a very human way, and the energy she exudes says she wants everyone to feel the same.  It’s comforting for Erin, so she follows the older woman without question and listens to her chatter on happily about the library, the children, the town, her family.  Erin was happy to be a friendly ear, and by the time they’re getting ready to go home she’s learned very little about her duties but everything about her newest friend.  “School starts at nine tomorrow, sweetheart, so why don’t you meet me here at half past eight and we’ll share coffee and some secrets.”  The older woman pats Erin’s arm and gives her a wink, making Erin giggle and rub her slim shoulder. 

“That sounds great, it’s a date.  I’ll bring donuts if you bring that coffee you were telling me about roasting.”  The drive home is happy, and Erin makes a detour to the grocery store in town to pick up ingredients to make her own donuts.  If Mrs. Forrester is going to be roasting and grinding her own coffee, then Erin can make her own donuts.  “I’ve got my starter at home, and if I get up early I can fry them in the morning so they’re fresh…”  The plan is set, sourdough donuts.  Maybe with some cinnamon sugar.  

The dough is fairly quick to come together in the mixer with the dough hook, way too lazy to hand knead a sticky mess like this.  It goes in the fridge and the kitchen gets cleaned and readied ahead of tomorrow.  Dinner is easy leftovers, and it’s nearly nine by the time Erin even considers the journal again, sitting heavily in her desk chair staring down at it.  “I mean, I guess I could take a peek, if there’s nothing there, I’ll put it on my bookshelf and forget about it.”  Nodding to herself she sits before the book again and hesitantly opens it.  

She isn’t sure what she’s expecting.  Part of her is very much hoping that when she opens the journal this will have all been some strange fever dream, and the journal will show nothing but her entries until she maybe dozed off outside.  Considering she hasn’t looked at the book since she put it back into her pack yesterday it’s a real possibility.  She isn’t that lucky though, and when she opens the book to the last used page she’s confronted with a new message that she knows she didn’t write.

Erin doesn’t even notice she’s hyperventilating until she pushes back and tries to stand, going lightheaded and dizzy so quickly she’s forced to sit again.  “Focus on your breath, focus on your breath…”  She’s repeating directions from her therapist, counting in and out to five.  She grounds her feet to the floor, feeling her connection to the house, she focuses on her weight in the chair, the feeling of the fabric, in one two three four five, out one two three four five.  It takes a few minutes, but she opens her eyes and feels a little better.  

“This doesn’t make any sense.”  Erin is singing to herself tunelessly, a habit she picked up from her mother as a child.  “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual actual fuck.”  She pulls her hair down from its updo to run her fingers through her curls, a comforting nervous habit.  She reads and re-reads the conversation from yesterday.  “Okay, logically, either I’m going nuts which isn’t a conclusion I’m willing to reach at the moment, or...or this is some kind of...kind of...new...technology?”  She peters off at the end, voice high pitched and strained.  “Or magic is real, which I think ties back into the whole I’m nuts thing…”  She rests her head heavily against the edge of her desk, sighing gustily into her lap.  “Okay, so, going nuts it is I guess.  I already talk to myself I mean what’s one more thing.”

Erin sits up and rubs at her forehead, looking down at the open page that’s teasing her with possibilities.  “If magic is real, then maybe I’m actually talking to someone from some weird fucking fantasy country?  Should I just...run with this?”  She considers the options, but something inside her tells her not to just shelve the book.  “I guess I’m really going to run with this…”  She knew even as she was having her inner tantrum what the answer was going to be, there’s no way she could ignore this.  Growing up reading fantasy novels allows you to bring some sense of childlike hope and wonder at the world into your adult life. 

“If this is actually happening, then there’s no way I can let this pass me by.”  She nods in resolve and carefully re-reads the conversation on the page with a suspension of disbelief that has allowed her to enjoy many a piece of media.  The soft smile that overcomes her face as she reads the last message is at the mental image of whoever was on the other side falling asleep over the page, an action Erin herself has taken many times when she’s been too engrossed in whatever she was doing to properly go to bed.  

Ash, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you, I was called into work on short notice this morning.  If you’d like to talk and learn about my world I would love to teach you, because I would also love to learn about your world.  Your world sounds nothing like mine, bandits especially aren’t a problem where I am.  If you’re willing to teach me about Auren I would love to tell you what I can about the US and the world.  I hope your emergency is easily handled, or at least safely handled.  Good luck, and stay safe. 

She waits a few minutes, staring at the page, but no message appears in return.  “Of course not, even if this is real, which I’m not saying it is but I’m not saying it’s not, but even if it is real there’s so reason whoever’s on the other side is sitting staring at the page waiting for my message.  They have their own things to do.”  She nods to herself and leaves the book open on her desk.  “I’ll come check back before I go to sleep.”  

Erin has every intention of doing just that, but when she falls asleep to an old Disney movie on her worn couch she doesn’t have the chance.  Waking heavily around five in the morning she groans, the imprint of the couch cushions on her cheek stinging as she lifts her head and blearily eyes the bright light of her television.  She paws for the controller to switch it off, and rolls herself off the couch to wander into her bedroom, passing by her desk with the journal on it.  She’s suddenly awake though as her eyes glance over the page to show another message beneath the one she scrawled last night. 

[vincent-frankenstein]

When it Rains

Summary: Logan's facade is slipping — and all it takes is an argument with Roman to make it break entirely.

Pairings: none 

Warnings: angst w no happy ending, crying, fighting, yelling, lots of Ouch Oof My Heart feelings :')

i lost my gen taglist :'(((( if youd like to b added or removed please let me know! i gotta rebuild it shdkfh

@aliferous-ly (the only person i remember being on the list shdfksh)

thanks to @nonbinarylogan who messaged me late last night to deliver some Sweet Sweet logangst and inspired this mess ur an iconic logan stan and ily

They were arguing again.

Really, Logan wasn’t even sure what had started it this time. An offhand remark, a subtle jab about schedules; anything and everything seemed able to get them at each other’s throats. One tiny problem and they were off, yelling and snapping and hating until they couldn’t even remember what they’d been fighting about in the first place.

Roman was yelling. He did that a lot these days, even more than usual; and in place of his typical overdramatic tone, fury rolled darkly beneath his voice. Logan felt fury blaze to life in his chest to match Roman’s anger and he pushed it away, away, away, gritting his teeth as he schooled his expression.

“As I’ve said countless times, this is getting us nowhere. Thomas has far too many obligations to spend any longer on recreational projects. You’re being ridiculous, Roman.”

“‘Ridiculous?’” Roman repeated, his eyes flaring with anger. “Wow, talk about throwing stones in glass houses!”

“I would never do that, that’s incredibly dangerous,” Logan said, shaking his head. Roman let out a loud, furious scoff, dragging a hand through his hair.

“I know Thomas has work to do, Logan! With how often you remind me, I doubt I could ever forget! But he cannot just give up on other pursuits because of it!” Logan felt a million retorts jump up his throat and die on his tongue as Roman growled. “I can’t work like that!”

“That is not my problem,” Logan said, and cleared his throat to erase the hint of frustration leaking into his voice, “and it should not be Thomas’, either. I will reiterate: we have too much to do to keep taking so many breaks.”

“It is your problem!” Roman yelled, loud, and Logan winced despite himself, his chest tightening. He readjusted his tie and cleared his throat, shoving away the feeling before it could take hold. “Without me, there’s no work to get done in the first place! Why don’t you stop being such an idiot and realize that not everybody can be a robot like you?”

Logan’s chest seized. Why wouldn’t his voice come? Why weren’t his lungs functioning? He cleared his throat. “I-I am not —” He cut himself off and shook his head. “While you are… necessary… for Thomas’ productivity, your incessant need to take on more than we are capable of handling, even ‘recreational projects’ for ‘self-care,’ is only hindering Thomas. You’re hurting him —”

“Shut up!”

Roman had slammed his fist against the wall and the noise echoed around Logan’s mind far longer than it should have. He took a step back despite himself, hot fear trickling through his lungs.

“Stop acting like I’m not important!” Roman continued, his voice loud and pitchy and practically dripping with fury. “Stop pretending I’m not needed! I only want him to be happy! What do you want, Logic, beyond turning him into a heartless robot like you?”

Why wouldn’t his voice work? It didn’t make sense — it didn’t make logical sense. Dust was beginning to fill his lungs and creep up his throat — push it away, push it away.

“Not everything is about work! There’s more to life than that!” Roman’s face was flushed an angry scarlet to match his sash, and frustrated rage darted through his bright fire’s-ember eyes. “I’m sorry I cannot match up to your infinitesimally high standards — oh, wait, that’s wrong, isn’t it? You would know, wouldn’t you?”

His voice was cruel, mocking; the words seemed to tumble from his mouth like an uncontrollable waterfall and Logan was drowning in their echo, his mind filling with words and swirling, unbidden, a whirlpool of illogical feelings. Push it away — he grit his teeth and curled his hands into fists, willing his face to stay blank, stay blank, push it away —

“You talk about me hurting Thomas? Ha! Keep saying that while you take away his self-care! Keep saying that while you push away the rest of his personality, and for what? To prove you’re above emotions? To prove you don’t love us?” Roman let out a loud bark of humorless laughter. “We got that message loud and clear!”

Logan’s protests got caught in his throat and tried to choke him. He pushed them down — push it all down, he reminded himself — and cleared his throat. “I am above emotions,” he said, as evenly as he could, and he ignored the way Roman’s words echoed around his head. You don’t love us you don’t love us you don’t love us.

“Well guess what? The rest of us aren’t!” Roman growled. “Stop pushing us aside and stop pushing Thomas down a path that will only make him unhappy! Be as cold and robotic and empty as you want, I don’t care, but stop —”

He cut off. Logan opened his mouth to retort but all that escaped was a strange, choked sound that seemed to wrap around his lungs and squeeze tight. The room felt completely, utterly silent in the absence of Roman’s yelling, and Logan felt cold inside and out but burning hot at the same time. You don’t love us.

“‘Above emotions,’ huh?” Roman said with a sneer. Logan’s eyebrows furrowed as warmth slipped down his cheeks, and his fingers came away wet when he touched them to his face.

“Wh-what is this?” Why was his voice cracking? Why did his chest hurt so badly? You don’t love us, his mind repeated over and over, a broken record to match the broken glass in his lungs. “Is it… is it raining?”

But that didn’t make sense, it wouldn’t rain indoors. Roman was shaking his head, his expression growing cold as his anger cooled. “You’re crying,” he said, as if it made the most sense in the world, even though it didn’t make sense, not at all.

“But —” His hands were shaking, his chest was aching; why wouldn’t his brain shut up? He couldn’t force words past the lump in his throat. Push it away, his mind yelled, but the thought was silenced by a wave of emotions.

He tried to readjust his tie but ended up just clutching at it, his fingers curling around the fabric and holding it like a lifeline. He took a step back, hunching in on himself as his vision blurred and swirled. Robot, his mind yelled. Robot, robot, robot.

“Roman, I —” Another sob wrenched its way out of his throat and he choked. Why couldn’t he stop? Why couldn’t he breathe?

“What’s wrong?” Roman asked, eyes narrowed. “I thought you were above emotions.”

And he sank out.

And Logan was alone.

Silence pounded against his ears — or maybe that was his heart, pounding resolutely through the broken-glass sobs and deafening him. His hands tightened into fists around the fabric of his shirt as the tears kept flooding, flooding, flooding, they wouldn’t stop and he couldn’t push them away no matter how hard he tried, and he couldn’t breathe.

This was illogical. Roman’s words shouldn’t affect him this badly. He needed to stop. He curled into himself, bunching the fabric tightly between his fingers to keep his hands from shaking and biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. He wasn’t emotional. He was never emotional.

“I am a robot,” he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse and trembling and broken. He had to convince himself of that fact. He was never emotional.

He’d been so proud when he beat Roman in that rap battle, and so excited to show off his poetry skills, especially against one as poetically gifted as Roman. His chest still swelled when he thought of it.

“I am a robot,” he whispered again. He was never emotional.

Trapped in Anxiety’s room and trapped in his own mind, he’d never been so scared. Thorny vines had wrapped around his lungs and squeezed tight. But he’d breathe through it, he had to — to show Anxiety how needed he was, how much he cared about him, and to save his fellow sides.

“I am a robot,” he tried again, and grit his teeth as falsehood rang out through his mind.

Creation wasn’t his forte, that was more Roman’s thing, but still, he sat and worked away at it until he felt completely satisfied with his work. Patton deserved no less. Guilt ate away at his stomach as he shifted the hoodie to just the right shade of gray.

“I am a robot.” He squeezed his eyes shut, tighter and tighter until colors exploded in front of his vision. He. Was. Never. Emotional.

Astronomy courses? It was more than he could have ever hoped for. Excitement and anticipation exploded in his chest and possibilities raced to the forefront of his mind. The cosmos fascinated him! He couldn’t wait to learn all about them.

“I am —” He choked. The tears weren’t slowing and that awful heat in his chest hadn’t left, and his brain wouldn’t stop, refused to stop. He shoved his glasses up his forehead and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.

He was proud and excited and guilty and curious. He was fond and frustrated and angry and sad. He was wonder; he was intelligence. He was Logan.

He was not a robot.

And he’d never hurt worse.

[sassyshoulderangel319]

Daring Rescue - Part 2

Part 1 here! I wasn’t planning on a part 2 for this story but one just... came to me XD There’s probs gonna be a part 3 but that’s where I’ll end it...

Virgil swam around the migrating pod in a panic. “Has anybody seen Logan?” he asked frantically. In response he only received shaking heads and apologies. Some suggested Logan was guarding a position somewhere else, but after Virgil circled the pod twice, Logan was decidedly nowhere to be found. Virgil couldn’t drown, but the water around him turned stifling and Virgil felt like he was suffocating. He stopped swimming to catch his breath, floating in place while his violet hair drifted around his head.

A green-tailed octopus-type merman swam up next to him. “Aw! What’s got the purp-mer so bluuue?”

Virgil glared. “Logan is missing, Remus. I’m worried about him.”

Remus bounced an eyebrow and smiled deviously. “Well, we both knew that shark is a seeker of knowledge. And we both know the best source of forbidden knowledge in this trench.”

Virgil’s stomach dropped into his fluke and his heart lurched into his throat. His gills flapped closed. “Oh no...” he breathed.

But Remus’ smile only widened. “Oh yes,” he preened.

A dark whirlpool of anxiety settled over Virgil’s head. He turned tail and shot through the trench, trident clenched tightly in his hand. The pod quickly turned to specks behind him. The water steadily grew colder---before the temperature absolutely plummeted. The hairs on the back of Virgil’s neck stood up.

He’d arrived.

The mouth of the cave yawned open before him, a dull yellow light glowing within. Its beams danced in the dark water. Virgil tightened his grip on his trident. He’d never wanted to come back to this cave ever again. But Logan was his best friend; and Virgil would do anything for his best friend.

Steeling his courage, Virgil swam into the cave.

As he delved deeper, a deep, malicious laughter echoed down the cave.

“I thought you sssaid you’d never come back, old friend,” Deceit sneered. His scaly face loomed out of the darkness, inches from Virgil’s.

Virgil’s knuckles turned white on his trident. “I’m here for Logan,” he growled.

“Your shark-type friend,” Deceit observed, twisting and swimming away from Virgil. “I’m sssure I haven’t ssseen him.”

“Bullshark,” Virgil spat.

Deceit whirled. “This is the sssecond time you’ve come to me sssearching for a lossst mer. I’m ssstarting to think you want to come sssee me,” he hissed angrily.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I never wanted to come back at all. But I know Logan must have come to you searching for knowledge.”

“Deep water mers don’t come to me. You sssaid that yourself to that sssurmer.”

Virgil backed up and twisted his trident so the prongs were facing Deceit. “You’ve been scrying?”

Deceit’s tongue flicked out, tasting the water. “Alwaysss.”

Virgil’s jaw clenched and he glared. He wrangled his temper into submission. “Logan. Give him up. Let him go.”

Deceit’s finger trailed over a spot on his neck where a scab was healing---the place where Virgil’s trident had cut the skin when he came to rescue Roman. “Nothing comes without a price, old friend.” His last two words were full of mocking. Virgil took a deep breath, gills flaring. “And who says I even have your friend?”

“There’s nowhere else he would go if he’s not with the pod,” Virgil said. “But he’s a seeker of knowledge. He would come to you.”

Deceit snickered. “Sssuch a clever boy. I missssssed you.”

“Don’t bother playing sentimental. Give me Logan. Now.”

“Or what? You’ll impale me? I think you’ll find this time you’ll have a harder time catching me.”

Virgil lashed out with his trident. Deceit slid through the water and narrowly avoided getting slashed by the prongs. Virgil swung again. He missed. Deceit’s tail wrapped around Virgil’s black, silver-studded trident shaft and pulled. The weapon was yanked out of Virgil’s hand.

“Enough,” Deceit growled. “You won’t win. I know you better than you think I do, Virgil. I know your tricksss.” With a wave of Deceit’s hand, kelp bound Virgil’s arms to his sides and wrapped his fluke against his waist. Another piece of kelp leapt from the darkness and dragged Virgil to the cave floor.

“You’re a monster!” Virgil snapped.

“Sssea glass grottosss, Virgil,” Deceit hissed with a purr in his tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They can be seen right through. And I see through you.” Deceit swam extremely close to Virgil’s face and peered into his eyes. “Now. Let’s discuss priccce.” He smirked, eel tail trailing back-and-forth through the water

Virgil clenched his jaw, the muscle in it working. “What do you want?” he ground out.

Deceit’s low chuckle made the water vibrate around Virgil’s head. Virgil couldn’t suppress the shudder that passed down his tail. “Why, Virgil, you knew me best in the old pod. Perhaps you should take a... shot in the dark at my price for letting your friend go.” Deceit’s tongue flicked out to taste the water again, its tip barely missing Virgil’s face.

Virgil’s gills flared on his sides. “Let me guess, some form of bodily fluid? You want a couple shells full of my blood?”

Deceit just laughed. “That’s too... sssimple. I’m disappointed. You should know me better than that.”

Virgil sighed, bubbles drifting out of his mouth and heading for the roof of the cave. “Freedom for freedom,” he muttered reluctantly, shoulders slouching. “You want me to trade Logan’s freedom for mine. You want me to stay here.”

Deceit beamed, pointy teeth leering in the dull yellow light of the cave. His scale-covered left hand poked Virgil in one of his old scars. “You are a sssmart boy, Virgil. So... do you accept?” Deceit didn’t back off. Virgil definitely wished he would. His fluke twitched in his discomfort but it was still strapped to the back of the top of his tail.

Virgil thought about it. On the one hand, he’d never wanted to come back to this cave. He’d never wanted to see Deceit again. But on the other hand, he couldn’t just leave Logan as Deceit’s prisoner to the end of his days. That would be horrible.

Virgil squirmed in the kelp tying him up. “Let me see Logan,” he said.

Deceit cocked an eyebrow. “Oh very well,” he said. With a wave of his hand, the light in the cave brightened and two figured emerged from the shadows. The one in the front was Logan, no doubt about that, but the one that was holding Logan’s kelp binding was---

“Remus?!” Virgil demanded. “What are you---?!”

Remus started cackling. “Oh Virgil! You’re so easy to trick! So desperate for family and acceptance that you saw past your trust issues to not even believe that our friend here wouldn’t have friends watching over you besides himself!”

Virgil thrashed against the kelp wrapped around him. “You traitorous squid!” he shouted.

“Virgil! Take a deep breath!” Logan shouted over Virgil’s thrashing. “What’s going on?”

Virgil calmed down long enough to meet Logan’s black eyes. “Why did you come here?”

“I heard a rumor going around the pod that this eel could see the future. I thought it would be prudent to come and investigate for myself,” Logan said. “However not long after I found myself in a similar position to your current one.”

“The pod’s migrating to the winter waters,” Virgil said. “You wanna go catch up with them?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t want to stay here, do you?”

“No. Of course not. But neither of us are in a position to leave---”

“Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo! No you’re not! You’re our playthings now!” Remus exclaimed.

Upon hearing Logan say he had no desire to stay, Virgil looked at Deceit. “It’s a deal. Let him go,” he said lowly.

“Wait---what?” Logan asked. “Virgil, what are you talking about?”

“Very well,” Deceit said, ignoring Logan’s question. He waved his hand and the kelp fell off. “And because I’m feeling generous, I’ll even let you say your goodbyes. Remus!” Deceit beckoned Remus with a hand and the two of them swam a short distance away. The kelp fell off of Virgil’s tail and arms too, leaving him free to move. He gathered Logan into a hug.

“Virgil, explain what’s going on!” Logan said urgently. “What does he mean, goodbyes?”

“You have to go, Logan,” Virgil said. “Catch up to the pod. Forget about me.”

Logan went slack in Virgil’s embrace. “No. Oh no. You did not trade your freedom for mine, did you?”

“I didn’t have a choice. And even if I did---I’m a protector. You know that. And if protecting you means giving up my freedom, that’s a sacrifice I’d make a hundred times over. Now go. Catch up with the pod. Tell the queen I returned to where I came from. She’ll know what that means.”

Logan pulled out of Virgil’s hug completely. “Where you came from?” Logan quoted. “You mean---you knew this trickster?”

Virgil sighed out his nose, bubbles shooting upward. “A long time ago. I was part of his pod. Both of us were outcasts. We were... the closest thing the other had to friends.” Virgil refused to meet Logan’s eyes. “Now---just go. Please.”

“No! I can’t leave you behind with these---”

“You have to!” Virgil exclaimed, making Logan flinch. Virgil rarely lost his temper with Logan. “Get out! Go! Now!” Feeling his heart tear itself apart, Virgil shoved Logan away from him. “Leave!”

Logan’s eyes went soft---and then rock-hard. He gave Virgil a final glance and then zipped off for the entrance. Once he was gone, the cave entrance clamped closed like a mouth. Virgil sagged on the floor of the cave, his dark violet scales scraping over the rock.

Remus swam over to him, tentacles drifting lazily through the water. He ran the back of a fingerscale up Virgil’s row of shell piercings in his ear. “What are these for?”

Virgil glared. “Aesthetic.”

“Ohhh! They go with that weapon of yours!”

“Sure. Whatever.” Virgil did what he often did to protect himself, retreat into his own mind.

But he noticed that Deceit hadn’t tied him up again. He decided not to point it out, hopefully prolonging the time he had full command of his limbs. He subtly rubbed at his arms where the kelp dug into his skin.

Deceit surprised him by swimming over with Virgil’s trident and offering it to him.

“What are you doing?” Virgil snapped.

Deceit shrugged. “You can’t defeat me even with your weapon, and you’re ours again now, so I feel no apprehension whatsssoever in giving this back.”

Virgil cautiously accepted his trident. “Why the generosity today?”

“Well, it’s like I said, I missssssed you,” Deceit hissed.

*****

Logan caught up with the pod quickly. The queen was swimming in the middle, surrounded by a few other guards and the rest of the pod. “Queen Vivian!” he exclaimed.

“Logan! You’re alright!” Vivian replied, surprised. “Virgil was in a right state when you weren’t here---”

“With respect, Your Majesty, Virgil...” Logan cleared his throat. “Told me to tell you he’s gone back to where he came from. He said you’d understand.” He searched the queen’s face for signs of understanding.

She sighed. “He said he was never going to return willingly. I assume he traded himself for you?”

Logan managed a nod, getting choked up and fighting desperately to hide it.

Vivian nodded in turn. “Yes... he always was fiercely protective. It was one of the many reasons he made such a good warrior. I always figured he’d do something reckless for the sake of someone he cared about.”

“Your Majesty, isn’t there something we can do?”

“if he’s gone back to that eel, I’m afraid there isn’t.”

“But---”

“Our pod maintains an extremely tenuous truce with that trickster. We don’t attack him, he doesn’t hunt our pod. If a pod member goes to him willingly, that’s another story. But we stay out of each other’s scales. Believe me when I say I wish we could rescue Virgil too. But we can’t.” She set her hand on Logan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Logan. I know how much the two of you mean to each other. But there is truly nothing I can do.”

Logan nodded slowly. “I understand, Queen Vivian, thank you.”

Vivian gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

Logan stopped swimming to keep up with the migration for a moment---before a thought struck him. “Your Majesty!” he cried, rushing forward.

“Yes, Logan?”

“Remus was working with Deceit. Spying on Virgil.”

The queen’s gills flared on her sides. “I always thought that two-faced tentacle-type was up to no good. I should never have accepted him into the pod. But Virgil was such a welcome addition that I thought maybe there was a chance---”

“You mustn’t blame yourself, Your Majesty. You didn’t know,” Logan put in quickly.

“Thank you for telling me, Logan. I’ll see to is that Remus is never allowed in our pod ever again,” the queen said. The determination in her eyes reminded Logan of the last look Virgil gave him. Virgil greatly admired Vivian, Logan had noticed, so it was no surprise that he’d picked up some of her behaviors.

Logan nodded and stopped keeping up again, letting other podmates swim past him. He blew bubbles out his mouth in a sigh and watched them wiggle up toward the surface.

Surface...

A thought struck him.

Twisting into a better position, he went swimming upward. He’d never been to the shallow, coastal areas before.

But there was a first time for everything and he was always eager to learn.

*****

“For the last time, Roman, I am not going to be your wingfinman in winning over---Logan?” Patton was saying before getting distracted.

Roman whirled to see a vaguely-familiar shark-type merman swimming toward them rapidly. Patton reached up and touched the mostly-faded scar of where he’d scraped his arm on the wall of the trench when Roman had dragged him down to the depths for an adventure.

“What’s going on?” Patton asked curiously.

Logan, being a shark-type, had a harder time staying still, so he swam around Patton and Roman. He also appeared to simply be restless.

The expression on his face was one of absolute panic. “Patton! Roman! It’s Virgil!”

Patton and Roman exchanged a look. “What about Virgil?” Patton asked, cautious but curious.

Logan sighed, gills flaring. “I did something stupid and... and Virgil ended up... in Deceit’s clutches.”

Patton gasped and Roman’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh no!” Patton exclaimed.

“And that’s not the worst of it,” Logan continued. “I knew Virgil came to my pod from another, but the worst part is---”

“---That his original pod was Deceit’s,” Roman interrupted. Patton and Logan both stared at him in alarm.

“How... how did you know about that?” Logan asked.

Roman shrugged. “When he saved me from that two-face’s lair, Deceit referred to Virgil as his old friend and when I asked if they knew each other, Virgil ordered me not to mention it to anyone. He was too intimidating to refuse even for me; but that reaction alone was enough to confirm it. However indirectly.”

Logan stared at Roman. “... Oh.”

Patton’s expression hardened.. “Well. We gotta save him.”

Roman nodded resolutely. “Yeah.”

[nothing-is-real-xoxo]

I Just Want Him Gone

Virgil sighed.  He was at it again.  The angry shouting resonated in his head, rattled around in his brain.  He turned up the volume in his headphones, in hopes that perhaps some screaming music could drown out the noise outside.  It wasn’t easy not actually existing, because everything that happened inside of Thomas’ head happened to Virgil too.  So if Depression was screaming at Thomas again, telling him to die and all of the things wrong with him, Virgil was forced to listen to it too.  He sunk even lower against the wall of his bedroom, tears beginning to gather in his eyes.  The yelling increased, and he couldn’t simply ignore it.  Yanking off his headphones angrily, he crossed his room and flung himself onto his bed, and began to cry heaving sobs into his pillow.

“You’ll never be good enough...”

“No one actually cares about you...”

“All your friends keep you around out of moral obligation...”

“PLEASE FUCKING DIE”

“SHUT UP!!!”  Virgil finally screamed, running towards his door and throwing it open.  In the center of the Mind Palace stood Depression, smirking evilly at him as he towered over Thomas.  Eyeliner running down his face, Virgil ran up to him and began to punch as hard as he could, not caring where he was hitting.  

“VIRGIL STOP!” A voice cried somewhere in the distance.

Blinded by rage, Virgil kept going.  He was so sick of having to listen to all the awful thoughts, so sick of inadvertently being reminded that he was no good, that everything would just be easier if he died, and that there was no hope for him.  Fists flying, he threw his everything into beating up the monster before him, the foul beast that had festered in Thomas’ mind for so long now, and blatantly ignored the other voice yelling for his stopping.

Suddenly, Virgil felt himself being overcome by a total sense of fear and hopelessness.  He fought against whatever was holding him, but it only held on tighter.  The world around him slowly began to dissolve as Depression got up from the ground and shoved him off of him.  He grabbed a trembling, terrified Virgil by the throat and lifted him into the air, breathing horrible breath on his face.  Virgil only heard one thing in a raspy, menacing voice before he promptly blacked out:

“YoU cOUld nEVeR kILL mE”

“AAAHHHH!!!”  Virgil woke up in a cold sweat, shaking violently and grabbing desperately onto something that he couldn’t see yet through his watery eyes. 

“Shhhh, hey it’s okay honey.  It’s okay,”  he heard a voice whisper to him soothingly.

“N-no, i-it’s not, he’s going to get me.”  Virgil whispered back to the voice, tears running steadily down his face.  “I’m going to d-die...” he held on even tighter to whatever it was.

“Shhhh...”  Virgil looked up slowly to see the most beautiful face he’d ever seen, and began crying even harder.  He was lying on the couch in Roman’s arms, holding on to his sleeve for dear life.  Roman was rubbing his back and sadly looked into his eyes, cradling him in the most loving of embraces.

“I’ve got you... I’ve got you...” He promised, refusing to let Virgil go.  “It was all just a bad dream, just another bad dream..”  

Virgil drew in a shaky breath and buried his face in Roman’s shoulder.  This was the sixth time something like this had happened this week, and he was starting to get sick of it.  Yes, Thomas’ Depression was a very real part of him, but Virgil wished he would leave him alone, at least while he was sleeping.  He didn’t want to bother Roman anymore, and hated feeling so helpless at the hands of something so controlling.  The others could only help him so much, the majority of this battle was one he had to fight entirely on his own.  Roman helped to keep him sane in the daytime, but this was getting out of hand.

Roman carefully stood up, angling himself so that Virgil remained lying down.  He went over to the coffee table and picked up the cup of hot tea sitting there, and then went back over and gave it to Virgil.  

Virgil shakily took the cup in his hands and began to take small sips, careful not to burn his mouth, which tasted like bile and fear.  It didn’t even make that much sense really, how Thomas could suffer from a mental illness and it could affect Virgil too, but not the other sides half as much.  All of them struggled with insecurities and mental health issues every once in a while, but why did this have to be the thing that plagued him day in and day out?  Why couldn’t it be easier?  Why, why, wHY?  

“What are you thinking about?”  Roman’s soothing tone snapped him out of the whirlpool of his thoughts.

Virgil blinked, and spoke the only coherent thing he had been capable of thinking for such a painstakingly long time in a broken tone.

“I just want him gone.”  

A few tags: @anxiety-has-anxiety @virgilanxiety @theonlyjelly-iwillput-inmybelly @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @highfivegirl404

[bangthekobrakid]

Vent

Ghost

Ghost 

That's all I am

A living memory of past experiences

Ghost

Ghost

Can you see?

The figures that cry out for eternity

I've constantly drowned in my own expections

A fact set it stone since my graduation

To a new world full of situations

That require mental breakdowns to pass 

In a nation

Of children who don't know how to reach out

Of children too afraid to open their mouths

To tell a soul of the feelings within 

That corrupt and consume them till they can't win

Too afraid to admit to themselves

How much they've changed since before the hell

That terrorised their mind and soul

That leaves them weeping in the cold

In the dark

All alone 

No one to reach out to and hold

That's bullshit 

And you know it

You have countless people to go to

To help you

Support you 

Comfort and protect you

Some understand better than others 

But in the end they can't really do shit

Cause you're the one that has to deal with it 

The mood swings that go up and down

Like your breathing as you try to block the sound

Of the tears that flow in the dark

Every night as you wonder why...

Is it the loneliness that consumes you?

Or the pain of never seeing her face again?

The knowledge that you are a different person?

Trying to survive a whirlpool of emotions

You're drowning

You can feel it

Try to stay above it 

But you know you can't escape it

How long does it last?

Is it much more?

Doubt of your sanity

Creeps in behind you

What to do

What to say

How can everything be okay?

"Smile!" they say

"Smile!" they say 

"Put a smile on your face 

it'll all be okay!"

"Just smile"

"Just a little" 

"You've always been so happy"

"You've always been so strong"

"You've always been resilient, persistent"

"You've always gotten along"

"You've always been so happy"

"You've always been so strong"

"You've always been resilient, persistent"

"You've always gotten along"

Do you not see how much I've been pushing?

To try to stay afloat ?

As my mind is battling

Against the icy hands of anxiety?

I struggle with anxiety

Depression might be chasing me

No way of knowing 

Unless I turn back

To face the anguish and pain

That's seeped inside of my brain 

I feel so numb almost all the time

I'm the happy one

I'm the strong one

I'm the one who never gives up 

I push through it 

That's how I do it

Never known another way

I'm the happy one

I'm the strong one

I'm the happy one

I'm the strong one

I'm the happy one

I'm the strong one

I'm not the happy one

I'm not the strong one

I'm tired of being me 

How much longer?

How much longer?

I'm tired of being me

I needed to vent 

Someone to go to

Don’t expect a reply

Another night

With a tearstained pillow 

Why did she have to die

[anuninspiredwriter]

Poem #2

This was originally really depressing but I turned it around so it has a kind of positive ending so.. here you go? It’s still absolute crap, and I probably shouldn’t have even bothered posting it, but, I did? I guess? Sorry.

TW’s: Anxiety, descriptive anxiety, dark themes (I put that in bold cause it’s important to know) Let me know if there’s anything else!

-

My fingers haven't stopped tapping in minutes, Eyes haven't left this screen for hours, Heart hasn't rested in days, Shoulders haven't slumped for a week, Body has been too heavy for months, Brain hasn't shut up for years, everything syllable being said back to my mind, their personification sitting on my chest and suffocating me as it speaks.

I fold under this anxiety; submit to it's wishes like a child taking candy. Too easy to give, I am prone to drowning. Too heavy to float but too inexperienced to swim, what am I to do but sink?

Floating down as pressure crowds me. Trapped by the fire feeling in my lungs, until a lifeguard pulls me out of the water. Until someone pulls me out of my spiral.

It’s then that I am reminded that I can be okay again. Reminded that just because there is too much water doesn’t mean I have to sink. That just because I’m too enraptured in thoughts doesn’t mean I can’t think, and just because I’m surrounded by too much fresh air doesn’t mean I can’t breathe.

I may get caught in a whirlpool, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get out of it.

-

Taglist: @nerdychef-jean