#brain fog has been slowly drizzling down on me

[neighborhoodmoonchild]

I Could Use A Hug (Uni!Yoongi Oneshot)

1. “Can you please come and get me?”

4. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

20. “I could really just use a hug right now.”

Pairing(s): Yoongi x Reader

Genre: University!Au, fluff

Warnings: insomnia, allusions to depression, signs/symptoms of depression and/or anxiety (if you or someone you know is struggling, don’t be afraid to seek help)

Word Count: 2.3k words

The thrum of rain drops pelting every surface around you dulled your senses and fogged your aching mind. You could barely see two feet in front of you, the darkness surrounding you only broken by the sparse light of the street lamps that became farther and fewer the longer you walked.

You weren’t sure how long you had been walking, hell, you weren’t sure where your feet were taking you anymore. All you knew is that you couldn’t lie there and pretend like everything was alright; like your mind wasn’t tearing itself apart bit by bit for seemingly no reason, and no matter how much you wanted to believe that closing your eyes and forcing it all away would work, in the end, it never would.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept, really slept, and the nightmares in your head seemed to enjoy their slow torment of you from the inside out.

You’re friends would tell you you’re in your head too much; your parents that it’s stress and lack of a proper routine. None of them seemed to dig deeper, try and see that you’ve tried every solution you could think of to fix their idea of the problem, and that none of them worked.

Then again, why should you expect outsiders to know all the answers when you can’t even pinpoint the why yourself.

So instead of staring at your ceiling and letting your mind run rampant with negative thoughts that feed off your sleep-deprived brain, you decide that taking a walk in the pouring rain at 2 a.m. alone would distract you from everything going on in your consciousness.

Only now, sitting on a rickety bench on the side of some street you’ve never heard of, illuminated only by the blinking bulb of a street lamp 20 ft away, you realize that there is no way to outrun this. And, honestly, your exhausted from running this marathon alone.

Wiping away the rain streaming down your face, that may nor may not have been mostly tears that you hadn’t even known had started spilling, you take out your phone to stare at the screen.

3:45 a.m.

“I shouldn’t bother him.” You whisper to yourself, although you bring up your contacts and push the one your looking for anyways. As you hold the phone to your ear, the dial tone ringing through your mind, you curse yourself for being so thoughtless.

How dare you call him when he’s just trying to sleep, knowing he’s probably been up late working, and expect him to drop everything for you. He probably won’t even answer the pho-

“Hello?” A raspy voice cuts through your intrusive thoughts and it takes all you have not to breakdown right then and there. You knew he’d already be worried by the time and nature of the call, no need to add in your hysterical sobbing.

“Y/N? Hey... are you okay?” Yoongi asks, and you can tell he’s getting more worried by the second, and you need to hurry up and find something to say before he panics.

Clearing your throat and taking a deep breath, “Can you please come and get me?”

You hated the way your voice cracked and how needy you sounded, having half a mind to just tell him it was a joke or something and hang up.

You hear him shuffling around, no doubt getting dressed and grabbing his keys, already one foot out the door.

“Of course, where are you?” His voice is soft, calming, and despite the weight it lifts off of your shoulders, you can’t help the pang of guilt that rumbles through your chest for dragging him into your bullshit all the time (though he’d tell you it’s not bullshit and he’s happy to help).

Your eyes dart around your surroundings, trying to find an indicator to your location, spotting a street sign a few yards away, relaying the information to Yoongi.

After a few seconds of what you’re assuming is him getting in his car and trying to figure out exactly where you are, he clears his throat, “Alright, stay there, I’ll be there in, like, 15 minutes...20 minutes top,” And then hangs up the phone to begin the journey.

Slowly tucking your phone back into your pocket, you discover that the rain pelting down just a mere few minutes ago has died down to a light drizzle. It’s a cool evening, but not uncomfortably cold, though you felt so numb right now you doubt you’d have noticed otherwise.

Left alone to your thoughts once again, counting down the seconds till Yoongi would arrive to save you yet again from yourself, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to the first time you met him.

You hadn’t been quite the mess you were now, freshly out of high school, entering uni and the real world with a blind sense of optimism that would soon be crushed under the immense weight of classes and college life that you’d been naive enough not to wholly consider beforehand.

Yoongi had already, as he likes to say it, “cracked the code” of university life, handling the stresses of student life with ease. Knew exactly what classes to take and avoid, which professors he could swindle, what work he could get away with skipping, and avoided campus social life like the plague. As far as he was concerned, this shit was a breeze and he’d be out before he knew it, degree in hand and job secured through suckering some admin for sweet connections.

He’d never guess he’d get swept up in your steep downward spiral into oblivion when he bumped into you, a happy-go-lucky freshie, that night he decided to let Hoseok drag him to some random new student event in the music hall despite his aversion to such poorly planned social nightmares. In all honesty, he would’ve just ignored you if you hadn’t asked him, quite honestly, where you could get a shot of whatever made him so “incredibly apathetic and disinterested.”

No one had ever really approached Yoongi in the 2 years that he’d been there, except for Hoseok and a few other guys that frequented their shared dorm, let alone a girl. He’s not sure if it was your blind boldness or your Arcadian demeanor that drew him in, but he won’t lie that he’s glad it happened, because you ended up being the best friend he never knew he needed (and the same goes for you.)

Yoongi was there through finals, bad blind dates, terrible roommates; everything. That kind of friendship also came with a front row seat to watch as your mental health deteriorated, with no sure fire way to help you, and it killed him inside.

Soon life was filled with insomniatic episodes that could last for days, a bad caffeine addiction, and an impending sense of doom looming over your shoulder every second of every day, and Yoongi felt like the only thing he could do was watch it all unfold. He was scared of saying the wrong thing, pushing you further into the black hole you edged closer to, and he didn’t want to lose the closest friend he’d ever had.

He quickly learned that just being there and listening when you needed it was the one thing you needed, and he happened to be pretty freaking good at it.

You’ve been up for 13 hours straight working on the exact same assignment? Let’s take a break and watch your favorite movie.

You’re roommate kicked you out again because she can’t deal with you being up for 3 nights in a row? Crash at my place and we can cuddle (which ultimately puts you to sleep, even if just for a little while most nights).

You’re crying for the 5th time today and you have no idea why? I’ll put on some calming music and crush you in a bear hug until you have no more tears left to cry.

Yoongi didn’t need an explanation or any answers, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Admit it or not, he’d come to love every single piece, every inch, every molecule of you, and he hated to see the person he loved in pain.

So getting an S.O.S. call at 3 a.m., knowing that in your weakest moment you needed him and only him, sleep didn’t mean anything to him anymore, in fact nothing else did. You were his top priority and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And so there he was, in his pajamas and a sweatshirt, hair sticking out in all directions, on his way to a random street across town in the middle of the night with only one thing one his mind. You.

He could tell by your voice that you’d had a rough night, considering he’s been present every other time, and he know the signs when he hears them. The fact that you’d gone so far, alone, in the dark, scared him; you’d never done anything quite so reckless in the time he’s known you, and the the fact that you weren’t in the right state of mind had him picking up the pace, urgent to get to you as quickly (but still safely) as possible.

Yoongi learned early on that even though you had a calm and serene attitude, you took things to heart easily, and the more that piled on you, the harder time you had digging your way out. You were very good at hiding how negatively things affected you, and you always put others before yourself, even when the only person desperate for help was you.

He didn’t really understand how someone so in tune with others feeling and emotions, could be so blind to her own. Sometimes you’d even skip meals working yourself into a frenzy, but still manage to scold him for not eating the proper amount of meals per day.

Sometimes, he thought, it was as if you didn’t see yourself as a living, breathing, person that needed everything you were so willing to give to others. Whether you were selfless or stupid, that was a debate for another time.

Turning down the right street, he finally caught a glimpse of the girl he’d been looking for. Your hair was soaked, along with your clothes, and you stared off at the road with an empty look in your eyes. Parking and shutting his car off, Yoongi hopped out and approached you cautiously, shrugging off his sweatshirt as he went.

Your mind finally broke from it’s thoughts to see Yoongi handing you his sweatshirt. When you didn’t reach out to grab it, he quickly moved closer, pulling it over your head and helping your arms through. When you were situated in the warmth of it, the familiar smell of him flooding your senses, it was then that you finally woke up and looked him in the eyes.

You could tell he was tired by the slight discoloration under his puffy eyes, but the emotion that swirled through them was one you had seen him wear quite often when these things happened; sadness.

Without saying anything, he slowly reached out, taking your frail, chilled hand in his, rubbing it to bring back some warmth. You smiled slightly, though tears still spilled from your eyes.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” He asked, continuing his ministrations, searching through the storm that raged on in your eyes.

You shrugged, a long, exhausted sigh escaping your lips.

“Not that long.” You lied, and he saw right through it, not only because he could tell by just looking at you, but he knew it’d had to be significantly longer than usual for this sort of thing to occur.

When you looked back at him, he continued to burn through your facade with his gaze till you broke.

“Like... 6...6 days.”

There was a short silence between the two of you as everything sort of sank in. It wasn’t unlike you to survive on a few hours of sleep, or maybe go 2-3 days without it, but never this long. Why didn’t you tell him beforehand? Why didn’t he notice?

“You know,” he begins, bringing your attention back to his face, which softens as he takes in just how tired and sad you looked, “if you need help, any kind, I’ll be right there for you.”

You’re a bit surprised by his statement. You know you’ve been in a bad state for a while, and he knows it too, but the topic of getting help outside of the two of you hadn’t really been discussed. Not that you were opposed to it, it just never crossed your mind.

Your silence seemed to worry him, making him add, “if you want, whenever you’re ready, and if you’re not, well, then that’s okay too....because I’m here for you, not matter what, and-“

Your light giggle breaks him from his tangent, and his mouth turns up in a half smile when he sees you wipe your eyes and turn to him, the life seeming to slowly trickle back into your eyes again.

“Ok.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, slight worry etching back onto his face even though he tried his best to remain as composed as possible for your sake. You nodded, and he gripped your hand tighter.

“Ok, when do you want to-“

“We can figure that out later.” You interrupt, the fatigue cutting through the bit of energy you seemed to gather just being in the presence of the most important person in your life.

He senses you fading, and lifts his other hand to rub your back.

“You know what though?” You say, causing him to tilt his head in question, awaiting your response.

“I could really just use a hug right now.” And without any hesitation, you’re wrapped tightly in his arms, face buried in his chest as his lips place a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, you know that right?” You mumble into him, and you can feel his body shake a bit with his light chuckle.

“I love you too, now let’s go home.”

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This is my first attempt at a short prompt imagine type thingy, hope you all enjoy, and if you find any mistakes or have any questions, let me know! Feel free to message me for requests, I’ll try my best to answer if I can! I have lots of drabbles, imagines, and fics planned for this blog so stay tuned!

-Moonie🌙

#yoongi au #yoongi x you #yoongixreader #yoongixy/n #uni yoongi #uni au #bts fic #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #yoongi #suga au #bts suga #suga fluff #uni suga #btsxreader #bts #angst #yoongi angst #bts angst #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader

[johannstutt413]

(Our Third and Final Installment For Now)

Lunch unfortunately ended, as the passage of time demanded, and we went about our day once again. The second pass was about the same as the first, minus the need to stay for very long and with a few faces changed, but the energy remained concerned and confused by my insistence of keeping Blue by my side; by the third pass, the news had spread far enough that it was expected, and our fourth and final pass was like it would be with any other Operator as my assistant. Except, of course, other Operators delaying us to talk to Blue…

As I locked the door on the office, Blue went off ahead to the kitchen to make sure no one else needed it, leaving me by myself after a whole day with her. I don’t- obviously, I don’t have any memory of what I was like before the whole “forgetting everything about the world around me, including my place in it” thing, but I imagine that if I actually went to through the logs like Kal'tsit suggested for me, that me wouldn’t be so easily swayed to strong attachments. And yet here I was, turning the key and thinking to myself, “My hand really is cold now.” Two days ago I didn’t know her from Skullshatterer, and now I want her with me every moment of the day...this couldn’t be a toxin thing, could it?

Because if it was, I wanted some more, straight from the source.

I followed the signs to the kitchen - never visited it by myself before that day - and found Blue dumping flour into a mixing bowl. “Doctor, did you want to watch me bake?”

“I really just wanted to be in the same space as you,” I admitted, “but if you’re okay with it, I would like to watch.”

“Sure.” She seemed a little nervous about the added scrutiny, but with her permission, I took a seat at the bar which looked over the counter space.

It didn’t take long to see that Blue knew exactly what she was doing; not that I would have, mind you, but it was like watching a professional dancer in motion. Honestly, I wondered if she was showing off a bit for me - and hoped a little that she was - but the smile on her face as she hummed to herself and spun around the kitchen effortlessly was entrancing.

When the cake batter was in its pan and safely in the oven, Blue took a seat next to me, still smiling. “And now we wait.”

“And now we wait.” I smirked. “Hey, you got a little batter on your cheek.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.” Her eyes, those beautifully blue eyes, watched me intensely...was she waiting for something?

I unhooked my mask and set it on the bar, licked my thumb, slid it over the droplet on her cheek, and ran it against my upper lip to clean it off. Gummy hadn’t been kidding - if even the batter was this delicious, the final product was restaurant quality for sure...but that thought rolled through my head quick, fast, and in a hurry. “I can’t tell if it’s the batter or you that’s sweeter.”

“You’ll have to wait and see, Doctor.” She took my hand with both of hers and set it against her cheek, tilting her head and closing her eyes ever-so-slightly. “I’d hate to spoil your appetite.”

“As you wish.”

We sat there until the timer went off, at which point she hopped from her stool, slid a pair of oven mitts over her hands mid-step towards the oven, and set the cake pan on the counter to cool. While waiting for that, Blue grabbed a piping bag of chocolate frosting from the fridge and melted some chocolate in a glass bowl over boiling water; she’d taken my request for chocolate very seriously. Without checking, as if all the necessary timers were in her mind, she removed the cake from its pan, sawed it in half horizontally, glued them back together with melted chocolate, frosted the reconstructed cake, and drizzled the extra chocolate on top. It wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world - she sacrificed visual appeal a bit for speed - but I had enough eye candy right now. The cake had another purpose.

Once it was formed, Blue went about gathering the utensils and drinks to accompany her masterpiece. She poured two cups of milk, set everything on a tray, and carried it delicately to the bar, joining me once it was safely level. “Here we are: dessert for two.”

“We each get half of this?” I licked my lips. “I’m going to need to visit the training room once this settles to work off the calories.”

“I’ll join you if you go,” she grinned.

“To exercise?”

She shrugged. “Either that, or to watch. Whichever.”

I cut the cake roughly evenly and handed her a plate and fork, and for a few minutes, time dissolved into chocolatey goodness. Finding actual sweets aboard Rhodes Island’s flagship is usually pretty simple, but good chocolate can be difficult to find when enough of our Operators are seriously affected by it. Blue had managed to find the best of everything, or had turned imperfect ingredients into something nearing perfection, and frankly, it didn’t matter which, because the end result was a rich paradise of warm melt-in-my-mouth baked chocolate. It took two full cups of milk to properly wash it down.

“How did you like dessert, Doctor?” She smiled victoriously. “Enough chocolate, I hope?”

“You are an angel in the kitchen, Blue; I couldn’t survive eating this every day, but it’d be a worthwhile death nonetheless,” I swore.

She took the empty dishes on the tray to the dishwasher. “I’m flattered you think I would poison you so slowly.”

“Oh, I know you could make it faster,” I shrugged, “but what would the point in that be? We’d both rather live to enjoy the other’s company, right?”

“All too true.”

I stepped down from my stool as she returned and offered my hand. “If you don’t mind, before I repay you for your labor here, I want to show you something.”

“If you like.” Blue returned her hand to its rightful place, and as we walked through the often-labyrinthine airship we live in, curiosity overtook her. “Doctor, if you don’t mind, where are we-”

“You’ll see!” No ruining the surprise. I led her steadily upward, past the dorms, past the observation posts, past the network towers, all the way to the top of the ship, where I’d found, during one of my many self-guided tours, a large glass window with a pair of fluffy armchairs.

And we’d made it just in time to watch the sun fall gently beneath the layer of ash and fog we flew above. I sat her down in the more comfortable chair, slid over the other to hold her hand, and simply enjoyed the view. When some of the older Operators talk about the paradise we’d lost with the Calamities, the view from this balcony has to be part of what they think is gone from the world.

As the last rays of light fell beneath the sky’s floor, Blue slid out of her chair and onto the armrest-bridge between them; I barely moved my hand out of the way before she sat down and set her face against my shoulder and her arms around me. “That was wonderful, Doctor. Thank you.”

“Of course.” At this point, I knew where she was headed with this, but had no idea how to join in the journey. “Um...”

“You’re nervous, aren’t you? It’s okay; I am, too.”

I turned to face her, which puts my lips almost directly against her forehead. “If I’ve ever done this before, I’ve completely forgotten how.”

“No one has let me be this close to them before,” Blue admitted, “so we’ll be clueless together.”

“Sounds like a dream to me.”

I...I’ll admit, I don’t know what I was expecting, but the memory is both blurred beyond recognition and ingrained into my mind. She lifted her head and tilted it slightly as she closed her eyes, I tilted mine the opposite direction and followed suite, and at some point our lips connected and stayed like that for awhile, but by then? By then, my heart was beating at supersonic speeds, my body was operating on auto-pilot, my brain had shut down entirely. All that was left was raw experience, the reality that I was here, with her, in this moment, and I loved everything about it.

It was waking up from a coma I hadn’t realized I was still in, because suddenly, I knew something important - whoever I might have been with before I forgot myself, it had been nothing like this, and it no longer mattered in the slightest.

Eventually, we broke it off, gasping a little; I might have forgotten to breathe at some point. Blue, her face a bright red, managed to regain her voice first. “That was...wow.”

“Yeah.” Once the blood started flowing to my neurons again, which took more than a few seconds, I continued, “I can tell you with absolute certainty that was my first kiss.”

“So can- did you remember something?” Blue’s eyes lit up at the thought.

I smiled. “It’s more like if I’d felt anything that incredible, amnesia wouldn’t have been enough to repress it.”

“You mean it,” she almost mouthed - a thought escaping unintentionally. “Doctor, does that mean- no, I couldn’t ask, even if the past two days have been so-”

“Blue, you’ve enjoyed today, right?”

She laughed, but covered her mouth immediately after. “Sorry, I- yes, I enjoyed today.”

“If we did something similar tomorrow,” I continued, “you’d like that, right?”

“I would, but if the other Operators realize we’re dating-”

I rose from my chair, walked in front of hers, and reached down to her with both hands. “Let them; if it really bothers them, they can fight the battle with HR that’ll result and lose.”

“Doctor…” Her eyes teared up with a heady cocktail of emotions as she took my hands. “Doctor, if this is really okay...how could I say no?”

“Fantastic.” The last whisper escaped my throat as I pulled her to her feet and bent down enough to catch her lips again. It was like lightning striking the same place twice.

We carried on like this for a few days, although the “dates” each day changed because, like I said, eating Blue’s cakes every day would seriously increase my calorie intake; one of us would cook something for us to share, we’d watch the sunset, and I’d walk her back to her dorm. Four days after I asked her about the rumors, I kissed her in public, and the chaos was wonderful - Amiya fainted, Kal'tsit sighed and shook her head as she took her away, Doberman had to be held back by Hoshiguma, and a lot of the other Operators admitted to themselves that, while they’d seen the signs a mile away, seeing the evidence so plainly stated was a real shock.

Missions are a little awkward now - I’ve been practicing with a handgun so I could fight next to Blue as a “Sniper,” but the others are so nonplussed by that suggestion I simply have to wait until after the battle ends to have my time with her. Why even let me practice with weapons if I can’t use them, guys? However, they have conceded to let me put Blue in my personal guard unit for when I do have to be in the field, which means no issues finding her when I start missing her too much.

It’s been over a month now since that first day, and we’ve been enjoying taking things slow. I even managed to set things up so she doesn’t have to do assistant work to stay in the office, so while myself and my assistant-of-the-week are doing office work, she can continue her toxicology stuff without any (unwanted) interruptions with a smile on her face. Man, having power in an organization is great!

Alright, that’s enough journaling; Blue’s coming up to my room in an hour or so to celebrate my birthday, and I need to do some cleaning up before she gets here. Maybe I’ll surprise her with a gift myself...

#arknights #blue poison #part 3 of 3 #more waifu content to come #blue poison (arknights) #arknights fic

[gardenofdreams-fanwriter]

Your writing is amazing! Can I also request for a Shinobu x Male Reader drabble? I have been thinking of this prompt - the pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of dry weather. So mayble a homesick and reunion drabble? Or an aftermath of the night against Muzan. Thank you very much! You're amazing!

Thank you very much, I very much appreciate your words about my writing. This request required me to ignore some canons, for it to have a fantastical effect (and because I love living in lies, hahaha.)

✤✤✤ஐ

Homesick in rubble.

So much have happened, but so much is amiss without her on his side. How long has it been? He can't remember all the counting he used to keep up with. It began to be a reminder of his own bitter life, so now he just rely on the miracle of tomorrow. (y/n), awaits his love to fly back to him, in the morning, in the evening and at night. In an empty house, echoes of his footsteps are loud and Severe, so he is now used to walk the place like a ghost.

The unforgiving fate has been a burdening guest on this whole town, and on this man's fate too. Everything was dry, dry heart, dry soil, dry eyes, dry sky, dry news, dry wells. However, his faith was unwavering, strong and sincere, like a resilient mountain, his emotions were crystallized inside of him and from his shoulders he heave his heaviness.

Today seems slightly different, he looked up to the gray afternoon sky, it's unusual fog in the distance. He slightly smiles thinking it might be the rain coming finally, it might be a sign of good things happening. The rain became a sign of happiness to him because of her, It used to be her favourite. Like on that night, when he was sitting outside beneath the rooftop with her resting her head on him as she closed her eyes listening.

The trees were covered and the horizon is unsure. In the rubble of all the memories of that love, (y/n) found himself reminiscing in the middle. Every thought graps his attention, like he's re-experiencing them in his head. He remembers that soft smile everyday, but today he could hear her voice too. That tenderness she embodies, her hand inside his, and her caring about the tiniest matters and her love. Just her, is his undying wish.

Recalling way back, when she was talking about her inevitable future, the things she subconsciously thinks of that burns her alive. The nights she spends sobbing and somber, It's the only reason keeping them apart, and if it weren't unknown of demons where he came from, he would've trained on his sword long ago. Wishing be able to avenge every tear fell down her eyes.

He send his prayers to the skies. Longing for her safety and her coming back in one piece. For her to return and revert this place's liveliness back. Everything misses her, every plant in this house, every corner and surface, and especially (y/n).

This has been going long, forever, and it's expected to change anytime.

That's nature, the cycle of life has to turn over and over fluidly and in harmony. Even the weather is promising of a hopeful rain fall. Is it wrong to look for a bright future when you're living in the rubble? Is it possible for her to come back alive? He was hesitant to shift his psyche.

That's when he felt a drizzle oh his hand like drops of early morning dew floating in the backyard. He was in disbelief, is it raining? The whole place has that sense of rain, as if it was preparing on the low. This temperature and this smell, all his senses were triggered by nostalgia. The fresh chill breeze started to sway the trees.

He can suddenly feel, feel the pain in his heart, for butterflies were emerging from behind, is it her? It can't be, life isn't that perfect for it to synchronised the rain and her arrival. A waterfall of colourful butterflies were surging serenely, gradually flying too high. His overwhelm can't be expressed, after he turned his back to see a shadow inside the dim litted house. He walks slowly to that shadowy figure, it's quiet and his heart was making a rumble in his chest that makes him not able to concentrate.

"(Y/n)" he heard! Yes he did, it's not his brain fooling him once again. He walks and walks faster, just hugging her even if it was just a 'ghost'. He hangs tightly on her, is it her? (Y/n) shift his head to look straight in her face.

Is it her? Is that my love!?... it was Shinobu, standing like a nobody while he was crying. His hands lose their strong grips, he falls on his knees in front of her. She wipes his tears off his face, as she cries as well, that smile beaming happiness and pain. He sobs for long and her too, pulling her shoulders to him, her small frame was enveloped within his hug. (Y/n) kissed her face, both her cheeks, her temple, her forehead and her lips.

Shinobu holds his jaw high "It's done. The demon's leader, is gone. Muzan's time, has ended. " Her fingers wipe his eyes "I'm released off vengeance. No more tears, or pain. Look at me." She says with a warm voice, he opens his eyes and then she continues "No more being separated from you.".

✤✤✤ஐ

#Kocho Shinobu #kimetsu no yaiba drabble #drabble #kny #Shinobu #hope this is something you wanted to read

[sickybubbies]

hello! maybe jungkook being awfully constipated for days (like it's so bad that he can't eat bc he's too nauseous) and then just having an accident after taking something for it? love ur blog!!

I am absolutely awful at scat but here you are love! Sorry it took so long and I hope you like it! 💕

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TW: Scat.

Jungkook doesn’t remember when he went to the bathroom for other than peeing, it’s been 3 days? 4? It’s all a fog in his brain.

Yet, the singer is sat in the bathroom with his sweats down, for the third time that day. Jungkook groans miserably at the heaviness that lay in his stomach, pressing his stomach with both his palms as he carefully massages in hopes to relieve some pressure. It does result in airy farts, but his bowels still felt like they were full to the brim when he leans over and nothing happens.

He pants as sweat tickles his brow, wincing as a cramp runs through his mid section. Letting out a defeated sigh he stands up, pulling his sweats back up and agitatedly tying them up.

Jungkook keeps himself up with the help of the sink, his veins were popping and his head was throbbing at just how much effort he’d put in to relieve himself. He pouts as he washes his hands because he was so done with the sick games his stomach was playing with him before paddling off to the kitchen.

There’s indistinct chatter from the diner of course, so much that no one realises the Maknae slipped in.

Jungkook leans over Jin as he cooks while trying to reach to the medicine cupboard, shaking the pan with practice hands before turning the heat off.

“Jungkookie! Come eat with us, yeah?”

The older asks, his tone was light and pleading, with a tinge of concern (oddly enough Jin hasn’t seen Jungkook have dinner in a while, is why)

The latter bites his tongue as the smell of freshly cooked meat covert his senses, he wills himself not to gag as the nausea coats his throat. Jungkook shakes his head “m’not hungry hyung..maybe later”

He boredly replies and Jin eyes the ways he’s scrummaging through the medicine cabinet and sighs “You need medicine? What’s bothering you Kook-ah, be honest”

Jungkook pauses, he gnaws his bottom lip “my belly hyung, I haven’t been able to– you know..?” he admits and Jin nods in understanding. Placing a hand on the younger’s back he ushers him to the side and grabs just the trick. He pours a generous amount of juice for taste before adding the laxative, giving it a steady stir. “Drink this bunny, it should do you some good. If not then tell me okay?”

Jungkook nods obediently, gulping the juice down in a haste. Jin smiles softly and ruffles his hair.

Not nearly an hour later, Jungkook feels his stomach bubble up and he shifts uncomfortably for the umpteenth time, barely focused on this unanimous movie they were watching. Suddenly his cheeks burn ominously as he feels his rear feel hot and sickeningly wet. He bites his tongue as he buckles his hips so nothing else seeps through.

His head falls on the nearest object to bury his face in, Taehyung’s shoulder.

The older eyes him with confusion and a hint of amusement before wordlessly threading his fingers through his soft hair. He thinks nothing of it, till Jungkook whimpers painfully which sends alarm bells through him.

“Kookie, what’s wrong?” He whispers into his ear softly, careful not to grab the attention of the others. Jungkook whimpers again and sniffles while fisting his hyung’s shirt desperately.

“Hey..” Taehyung leans forward for a better look at the boy, with beads of sweat adorning his pale skin and immediately registers the situation. Jungkook feels his stomach sink in guilt and embarrassment as he watches his nose scrunch up from the pungent smell and he lets out a choked sob just as his stomach gurgles again. “Oh- just, hang in there for me Jungkook”

The older singer is quickly hoisting him up, standing behind him to seem as discreet as possible when he leads Jungkook into the bathroom.

Jungkook almost cries in relief, undoing his soiled trousers and kicking them off. Barely sitting down in time for the floodgates to open. He palms his stomach and whines as the vile liquid pours out from his rear, he feels the bubbles of air lurk around in his abdomen before being emitted into wet farts.

Taehyung, watching the grotesque scenes unfold silently as he stood by the door (not wanting to go in as the Maknae’s dignity was tarnished enough, and he didn’t want to add to that for the poorly boy)

Jungkook’s stomach was loud and prominent as it emptied itself, each torrent of the thick liquid was accompanied with a pained moan from the younger singer, that made him wince. His cries weren’t unknown to his ears either and it made his heart wrench nonetheless.

“It’s okay Jungkookie..let me just- I’ll get someone for you okay?” He peeks his head through the crack of the door with a soothing voice and the Maknae pitifully nods his head, it makes Taehyung wonders exactly how horrible he must’ve been feeling.

“Jungkook-ah?” Jungkook hears Jimin before he feels him, hooking his chin up with cupped hands Jimin generously wipes the Maknae’s tears as they drizzle down from how his torso was throbbing.

Jimin watches Taehyung slowly put the soiled trousers into a bucket and start to run the water. He continues to card his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, pressing a peck to his tear stained cheeks. “Poor thing, Your tummy troubling you isn’t it” he coos softly.

Jungkook nods, more tears falling as he sobs and steers his head down “I didn’t mean to- I don’t know how it happened and I just..i couldn’t go for days and, and I don’t know why I’m so sick”

Jimin gasps, quickly pulling him into his chest. Taehyung frowns too and rubs at the youngers back as he continues to cry “I’m so sorry hyungie, I made a mess”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart.” Jimin sweeps the hair out of his eyes “it’s not your fault that your tummy’s feeling gross baby and as for the mess, Tae’s already on it so shh” Jungkook would’ve snorted at the smitten actions of his hyungs, with energy of course.

Taehyung presses a kiss on the crown of his head, noticing that his stomach has eased into just airy farts he flushes. “Let’s get you cleaned up bunny”

Jimin nods “TaeTae, get some fresh clothes and the bed ready, Kook’s gonna be sleeping with us tonight”

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Sleeping At Last

or: 5 times Tony couldn´t sleep (and the one time he could)

My first 5+1! It´s based on an ask from lovely @trashofdoom, featuring a severely sleep-deprived Tony and various people (and AIs) looking after him. A million thanks to my amazing beta Bethany (@whumphoarder).

TW for vomiting, alcohol-overuse and somewhat unhealthy coping mechanisms. Enjoy!

Tony rubs his eyes exhaustedly. They’re dry and stinging, irritated from countless hours spent staring at a Starkpad and fiddling with code. He spots another error in the programme and corrects it with a sigh. The numbers, usually easier to understand for him than any human behaviour, just won’t come together today.

There’s a soft knock at the door. It is honestly beyond Tony why people still knock in an era where there are retinal scanners at each entry to keep out unwanted visitors and open doors for the wanted ones, but at least it reduces the number of possible intruders down to two, one of whom  - Captain Spangles - is ruled out because of his ridiculously regular sleep pattern.

“Hey Brucie,” Tony calls even before the other man has entered. “What brings you here at - “ God, how has it become 4:30 this quickly?

“I should ask you the same. This is the, what, fourth night in a row?”

“Just getting these updates done.” Tony rolls his chair back and gestures to a row of devices lined up on the table across from him.

“And that can’t wait until tomorrow?” Bruce asks critically.

“The glitch with the comms not adjusting frequencies automatically was a serious issue last time... Nat wouldn’t have gotten hit if we had been able to warn her. She barely made it through—you know that.”

Bruce looks at him, then sees through him. “It wasn’t your fault, Tony.”

“I know it wasn’t my fault,” he says, a little too quickly. “But it’s my responsibility to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I just can’t figure out what caused it...” He rubs his forehead with furrowed brows. “It’s like my brain is filled with fog.”

Bruce frowns at that admission.

“Anyway,” Tony goes on, “now that you’re here, I’ve got something I wanna show you...”

He gets up from the chair, making for the 3D-hologram area at the other end of the room. But only a few steps in, his head rushes without warning.

“Woah,” he breathes, grabbing a table for support as darkness clouds his field of vision. “What the fuck was that?”

“That was your blood pressure screaming at you to finally get some rest,” Bruce assesses, stepping over to steady Tony as the man sinks dizzily to the floor. “And I agree with it.” Gently, he pushes Tony's head between his knees.

“That’s unfair,” the other man grumbles. “Back in college, I used to pull five all nighters in a row, and that involved a lot more partying.“

“You’re an old man now,” Bruce teases, but his voice is tinged with concern.

The engineer mumbles something into his knees that sounds a lot like “'Should see yourself.”

"Better?" Bruce asks after a minute, resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Hmm.” Tony nods without looking up.

“Stay put. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t drink strange herbs dissolved in water,” Tony says with a shudder. “You know I'm a full-blooded coffee addict.”

“Trust me with this one—it's not the normal kind. Just stay there until I'm back.”

Tony, of course, doesn't listen. When Bruce returns a few minutes later, he’s made it back to his desk on wobbly legs and is squinting at the tablet. Bruce wriggles it out of his fingers with an exasperated sigh and presses a cup of something hot and steaming into his hand.

“This... doesn't smell like tea,” Tony says warily.

“It's Chai. The real one, not the nonsense they sell at Starbucks.” He watches as Tony takes a tentative sip, then another, and a bit of colour returns to his cheeks.

“Where’d you learn that?” Tony nods at the cup.

“In Kolkata,” Bruce replies. His gaze goes a bit distant as he adds, “I miss it sometimes, you know? It's the weirdest kind of place, but it took me in.”

“Why did you come down here, actually?” Tony asks, now looking up at him intensely.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Bruce shrugs. “Guess I wasn't the only one.”

“Yeah.” Tony gives him an exhausted smile. “Tell me about it...”

Joining a mission after four straight days of staying awake was definitely not the best idea, but Tony isn't exactly known for making sensible choices.

Luckily, the battle finishes quickly, leaving him sitting on the edge of a curb, knowing full well that his slumped-over posture is looking anything but heroic to the camera crews filtering in from all sides. On the other hand, it would certainly be worse publicity if he took a swan dive in front of the assembled press, which, unfortunately, is a very likely scenario considering the way the world is currently wobbling around the edges.

He’s just trying to gather the strength to make it upright and join Nat in talking to the reporters when he spots a blurred figure approaching quickly from behind a corner, raised gun aimed right at the assassin.

Tony fires without thinking. He might have forgotten that the repulsors were still set to full power, because the next thing that follows is an ear-splitting bang and a cloud of smoke rising up from what used to be a bus stop.

“What the fuck, Stark?!”

He blinks when a very upset Nat is suddenly standing over him, and seriously, that's one of the moments when he understands why people are sometimes afraid of her.

“You can't complete a single mission without destroying New York?” she demands. “What was that for? Trying out your new tech? Impressing the tabloids?”

“Calm down,” Tony hisses, more than a little annoyed. “We didn't get all of them, there was someone sneaking up on us. I just saved your ass.”

“What?” Nat's angry expression morphs into confusion as she turns around and surveys the area. “There's nobody here, Tony.”

“No, no, that's not right.“ He gets to his feet shakily, steadying himself against a streetlamp until the familiar blackness fades from his vision. He uses the suit's sensors to zoom in at the heap of rubble, but true to Nat's word, there is no sign of an attacker.

“I thought I... never mind,” he mumbles.

“You know your little stunt was caught on camera, right?” Nat asks, still annoyed, but with a bit of concern now mixed into her tone. “And that I've got to report it to SHIELD if my team members have health issues that can negatively influence their ability to - “

“That's not  - I'm not having flashbacks, okay?” he interrupts her, anger flaring up. “I just - I thought I saw something. Someone. Won't happen again.”

“I wasn't  talking about PTSD, Stark. You are aware that sleep deprivation can lead to hallucinations?”

“I'm  - gosh.” Tony rubs his eyes wearily. He really, really doesn't have the energy for this argument right now. “That's none of your business.”

“It becomes my business as soon as it compromises the mission.” Nat gives him a glare, but her eyes have gone soft. “Go home, Tony. I'll handle SHIELD and the press. Do us all a favour and get some sleep.”

“If only it were that easy,” he mutters under his breath. But he fires up his thrusters all the same and takes off into the sky, decidedly not looking back at the disaster he’s caused.

Tony wakes up drenched in cold sweat, his breaths coming in short, painful gasps. The sheets next to him are empty.

“Jarvis?” he croaks.

“It is 3:52 a.m., Sir. You are in your quarters at Stark Tower. It is currently drizzling, with a high probability of heavy rains for the coming day. You have been asleep for one hour and 37 minutes. You started to exhibit signs of distress sixteen minutes ago.” The AI hesitates a moment. “You were also talking in your sleep. If I may, Sir, would you like to know the current status of Miss Potts?”

“Yeah,” Tony breathes.

“I can access a video feed of the security cameras in the Hong Kong hotel she is currently residing at, if you'd like to see it.”

Tony nods weakly into the darkness, trusting Jarvis' ultrasharp sensors to pick it up.

The screen above the bed lights up, displaying a slightly pixelated image of Pepper in business attire, taking notes on a Starkpad while nodding politely at an equally formally dressed man seated across from her.

A small field with name and designation appears next to the man's head, revealing his position as the head of one of Stark Asia's subsidiaries.

“Thanks, J,” Tony says hoarsely after a few minutes. “You can close it now.”

The AI doesn't reply, but the room illuminates with a warm light that leaves no shadows in the corners. Bless Jarvis for knowing what he needs when Tony himself doesn't.

He sits up slowly, his fingers gliding over the soft fabric of the blankets, then feeling for the bathrobe that's draped over a nearby chair. He lets his fingertips run over the slightly uneven wall while he makes his way to the bathroom. Then he rests his hand on the doorknob, feeling its solidness.

Real, he reminds himself, because sometimes the present is elusive, sometimes it’s so much harder than it should be to figure out what's there and what isn't.

He sits on the bathroom tiles for a while, enjoying the chill seeping into his bones, anchoring him. He thinks of Pepper somewhere in Hong Kong, far, far away. Safe.

He knows that sleep is not going to come to him now.

When he finally steps into the shower, Jarvis has already adjusted the temperature and his morning playlist is issuing softly from the speakers.

“Honestly, I don't get the sense of ‘brunching’,” Tony states while tossing down his third cup of coffee that morning. “Maria's a grown-up girl, she should host a party like normal adults do. Get drunk, let loose, bully Fury into singing Karaoke - you know what I mean.”

“Not everyone's like you, Tony,” Steve replies good-naturedly, but still with this slightly lecturing note in his voice that sometimes drives Tony crazy. “Some people like to celebrate their birthday without it ending in fistfights and drunken guests throwing up everywhere.”

“Hey, that was one time!” Tony retorts, “And it's not a fistfight if armour is involved.” He reaches over the extensive buffet to grab the coffee pot and refill his cup.

“Haven't you had enough of that already?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Can't you let a guy have his small vices?” Tony deflects. He tries to scoop sugar from a delicate porcelain bowl into his cup, but his hands are jittering so much that half of it ends up on the tablecloth.

With a small sigh, Steve takes the spoon from his hands, adding sugar and stirring calmly. “You sure you're alright?” he adds, handing the cup back to Tony.

“Yes, Spangles. Stop mother-henning me,” Tony replies. He suppresses a belch when the first sip of coffee doesn't quite settle well.

They stand in silence while he sips the beverage, until Steve spots Sam on the other side of the room and goes over to talk to him, and Tony is left squirming uncomfortably. He’s full of nervous energy just waiting to be transformed into new inventions in his workshop, but he still has to wait through another few hours of polite conversation and boring toasts before he will be able to disappear.

Ironically, today is the first morning in a while that he actually feels like he might be able to sleep if he tried hard enough. But the prospect of everyone's irritation if he misses Hill's birthday celebration kept him away from bed.

He's thus settled on caffeine to fight the tiredness and reduce the headache throbbing behind his temples. The coffee has so far accomplished its job of keeping him upright without getting dizzy, but it also makes his stomach burn and causes a vague feeling of nausea that only increases as time goes on.

“You haven't tried the cake,” a kind voice says from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Here, have a piece,” Laura Barton offers, holding it out. Then she seems to think better of it and sets it on the counter in front of Tony. “I made it, not Clint, so you don't have to worry about getting poisoned.”

Tony tries to come up with a way of politely declining, his stomach somersaulting at the thought of food, but Laura has an aura about her that makes it almost impossible to say no. It reminds him faintly of Pepper. He has no illusions about who calls the shots in the Barton household.

“Thanks,“ he says, taking a tentative bite. He has to swallow twice to get the piece down, and then he can feel it sitting heavily at the end of his throat. He stifles another belch that brings with it the sour taste of acid.

“It's great,” he lies while taking a deep breath, attempting to will the nausea away.

It doesn't work. Instead, he can feel bile creeping up his throat. The urge to gag is suddenly overwhelming.

“Are you okay?” Laura asks.

Tony just presses the plate back into her hand. “Sorry,” he chokes out before making a break for the bathroom.

He only makes it to the sink before hot and bitter liquid is forcing its way upwards and splashing into the basin. It still carries the smell of coffee, making him even more nauseous. He barely manages to catch a breath before he heaves again, bringing up another gush of vomit.

The throbbing behind his forehead intensifies and he closes his eyes against the pain. He’s  coughing and sputtering, steadying himself on the basin, when he hears the door to the bathroom open.

“Occupied,” he croaks. But there's already a hand on his back, patting him hesitantly.

“Tony, what's going on?” a voice asks, and yep, out of all people that could have come to pee at this very moment, it has to be Captain Fucking Righteous.

“Nothing,” Tony pants, “Go away - ugh.”

He retches again and brings up a mouthful of bile.

“Are you sick?” Steve's hand now moves towards his neck to feel his temperature, and no, this is not happening.

“It’s nothing.” Tony bats his hand away. “Just overdid it with the coffee today. You were right, be happy.”

“I wasn't - that's not what I'm thinking,” Steve says defensively.

“But you were also wrong,” Tony continues, spitting into the basin. “Apparently, brunching doesn't reduce the risk of people ending up barfing.”

Steve ignores his banter. “Can I get you anything?”

A bed, a new head, and truckload of aspirin are all high on his list, but Tony settles for the easiest.

“Glass of water and some mint would be marvellous,” he says, and Steve is gone within a second. The guy is so helpful that it's a plague.

To the best of his ability, he avoids looking at the brownish mess he’s made. His stomach is still more than queasy as he starts the water.

By the time Steve returns, the evidence is cleared and Tony's game face is reestablished.

The anniversary of his parents' death has always been a night without the remotest hope of catching sleep. It is also the one night a year during which Pepper doesn't say anything when Tony drinks himself senseless.

In earlier years, Rhodey used to always be around on that date—ever since the very first time in college when he'd found Tony passed out in a puddle of his own sick with a BAC of 0.3. Then Pepper moved in, and Tony would be moody and irritable all night, demanding her to leave him alone, secretly praying she'd stay. She always did.

But this time, Pepper is still in Hong Kong - the negotiations taking longer than expected - and after the first few glasses of scotch, he finds himself turning his phone over in his hands, contemplating calling a few of his old business contacts and inviting himself to one of those parties that have more recreational substances floating around than actual food.

But he doesn't. Instead, he pulls up the second number on his speed dial. It takes less than a full ring before Rhodey picks up.

“Hey man,” Tony greets jovially, “What're you up to?”

Then, after a second, he quietly adds, “It's bad tonight.”

The can you come over goes unsaid. It's only a few minutes before the War Machine armour makes a soft landing on the balcony. Rhodey steps out of the suit and into the warmth of the living room.

“Here.” Tony turns around from the bar, a bit unsteady on his feet, and presses a glass into Rhodey's hand. “To all those sweepers that keep the roads free of ice.”

Rhodey clinks his glass against Tony's, his eyes wide and sad. Tony doesn't pass out that night, but Rhodey almost wishes he did.

The annual Maria Stark Foundation Gala takes place a few days after the anniversary, all of which Tony spends on a single workshop binge, running on coffee, AC/DC, and the deliberate aversion of any thoughts not related to R&D.

Pepper, who finally returns after a successful conclusion of “the greatest bargaining endeavor in history” (in the words of her PA), hauls him out of the lab a few hours before the Gala, threatening to fly right back to Hong Kong if he doesn't shower and dress up.

Tony's head his swimming when he bends over the sink to wash his face. He feels weak, almost feverish. When he starts to shave, his hands are trembling so hard that his usually perfect goatee comes out looking more like a modern art caricature of symmetry than anything else.

Pepper eyes his crooked beard, his haggard face, and the black circles beneath his eyes with a frown when she hands him the cue cards for his speech. She’s ushered into the changing room by an assistant before she can comment.

Tony manages a speech that leaves the audience laughing themselves to tears, without actually comprehending a single word of what he says. All the time, he clings to the lectern, painfully aware only of the weakness in his limbs and his own heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears.

He staggers down from the stage just to see Pepper emerging from the changing room in a breathtaking sleeveless gown. He might have been swaying a bit, because her eyes go wide upon seeing him and she hurries in his direction.

“You look fantastic,” he manages to say before the static in his ears grows deafening and the ground rushes up to meet him.

He comes to with his head in Pepper's lap and a group of assistants encircling him, heatedly debating the best course of action.

“Hey,” she says, her expression serious. “You back with us?”

“Hmm,” he grunts, trying to focus on his surroundings through the dizziness and pulsing headache.

“Can you get up?” she asks.

“Yeah, of course,” he mumbles. But his legs are jelly when he tries to get them under him. “Or maybe I'll just stay here for a while. The view is great,” he says weakly.

Pepper doesn't even give an answer. Instead, she pushes an arm behind his back to sit him up. With the help of Happy, they get Tony to his feet and manage to get him to the couch in the backstage room.

Tony sinks heavily onto the cushions. Pepper sits down next to him, waving at Happy to close the door and wait outside.

“So. What's going on?” she asks calmly, but Tony knows her too well not to hear the panic barely contained in her voice. “And don't dare tell me that you're fine, because I’m not an idiot.”

“I'm okay, Pepper - quit giving me that look,” he starts.

“By what definition was that ‘okay’?” she interrupts in an icy tone.

“Okay, as in, I swear there’s nothing majorly wrong with me. Just had a bit of trouble sleeping over the past few weeks,” he concedes. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Except for you passing out in the middle of a public Gala.”

“Where would be the fun in life without the little surprises?” he jokes in a weak voice. He can feel fatigue washing over him in waves, making his body numb and heavy.

“Sleep deprivation, that's all it is?” Pepper probes. “ Can I trust you on this? I won't regret it if I don't haul you to a hospital right now?”

“You can trust me on everything, you know that.” A moment of pain washes over her face, so brief that he nearly misses it.

“Hey. That was two years ago. Look at me, Pep.” It takes a lot of energy to lift his arm and reach out to touch her face. He looks her straight into the eyes. “I'm not dying. I promise.”

“Okay,” she says after a moment. She doesn't look completely convinced, but it seems she decides to let it go for now. “You can't go back in like this. And we can't leave the Gala early without the press going wild.”

“Trust me, I don't wanna move,” Tony says. The world is turning fuzzy before his eyes now, greyness creeping in from the edges. “Nothing wrong with backstage couches - I'm speaking from experience. Let's just stay here for a bit.”

Pepper bites her lip to suppress a smile.

He lets his head fall down below her shoulder, nestling his face into the soft spot between her neck and collarbone. He is vaguely aware of her hands in his hair, a warm and steady presence holding him. And then, in an uncharacteristically nonchalant fashion, Tony Stark falls asleep.

#tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #laura barton #pepper potts #steve rogers #jarvis #sleep deprivation #tony!whump #whump #sickfic #vomiting #emeto #fainting #nightmares #avengers #fanfic #james rhodes #rhodey #how could I forget him? #and Happy´s also there for like 5 seconds #mentions of canonical deaths #5+1 things #5+1 fic

[keyboardclicks]

You’re It

(Photo by Kundan Ramisetti on Unsplash)

Uncle told me to stay inside because of my asthma. But we hardly ever saw fog! All the more reason to frolic in the ground clouds I thought.

“You’ll be coughing all night,” he warned. 

“You’re not my dad!” I shot back. I thought it was kinda funny because no one was. More than a good night’s sleep, I loved proving people wrong. Uncle’s mouth moved like a fish. Open and closed. Sucking on stale air. Jared and I left him to catch flies all by his lonesome.

We zipped up our jackets in the boot room. “They say this year’s the one,” Jared said. “Will it show up today, you think?” 

“Stop with that garbage story already.” I hoped it sounded tougher to his ears than it did to mine. 

Jared wiggled his fingers at me. “Somebody’s sc-a-a-r-e-d.”

“I’m not!” I said, louder than intended. “I know it’s made up. It’s a—what’s it called? An urbing legend.”

Jared looked like he was about to puke. Probably one of his practical jokes. I ignored it and continued.

“—You know. A story someone makes up to scare every kid in town from ever leaving their house. In other words, a big fat lie.”

“OK, so how do know this is a...urBING legend?” Jared asked.

“Because.”

“Because—”

I liked Jared, but man could he be a pest sometimes. “It hasn’t shown up yet. What would make today any different?”

“That’s not for us to answer.” Then after a pause, “Ika, what do you think it will do to us?”

Clearly I wasn’t going to win the debate, and this was the hill he was choosing to die on. So I decided to play his baloney game.

With a sigh, I said, “It trades places with one of us. And we become it for 100 years, until we catch some other poor kid and pass the curse onto them. You know that.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to hear you say it.”

I glared at Jared until the core of my eyeballs ached. Through those blurred curtains of anger, I saw our friends waving from the park. Even though we were almost there, and tag would soon start, my stubborn streak refused to stray from this argument. 

“It’s almost as if you want it to show up.” I said.

Jared pointed at his chest, mouthing “who me?” Then out loud said, “Hope you’re wearing good running shoes. In case it hunts you down. Steals your skin for shelter.”

My ears burst in flames. He always did this: argued with me in private until I flipped out in public. He thought it was so freakin' funny, but I found it infuriating. Slash-his-bike-tires infuriating.

We got to the park and joined our friends. Frustrated by Jared’s incessant teasing, I didn’t even try to pay attention to the group conversation and missed the “1-2-3 not it” call by a mile. 

So on that hazy day, I was the thing no one wants to be. I was it. 

Five of us played tag. There was Jared, my cousin and on-again, off-again best friend; Kathy, whose mom made cookies with more chocolate chips than dough; Micah, the kid who couldn’t stop licking his upper lip and Jermaine, the compulsive liar. Jermaine was never it. One of us would tag him, and he’d drop to the ground yelling about his elbow being dislocated or a tooth falling out. Jared was the fastest, so he was never it either, unless he volunteered as tribute at the start of a game. That left Kathy, Micah and myself to juggle feelings of inadequacy and despair almost every day of summer break. But at least I wasn’t alone.

I was gaining on Kathy, even with my lungs heavy with murky mist. Arms pumping like a rock-em-sock-em robot, chest heaving, shoes just skimming the ground. Kathy was five feet away, then three, then one. 

“Can’t catch me!” she taunted. “You...will...be...it for-evah!”

Oh hell no, I thought, but soon realized she might be right. 

Kathy pivoted to the side, and my feet didn’t keep up. So intent on proving her wrong and touching even a thread of her sweater that—smack!—my forehead slammed right into a century-old elm. 

What the heck was a tree doing in the middle of a park? That’s a question I asked later. On impact, I only thought about the searing pain in my skull. Tiny birds fluttered above my head. Their claws held a blue, white and blinding yellow curtain while they flew round and round. Such a pretty, swirling sky.

“You idiot!” someone yelled. Sounded like Jermaine. The rotten little scamp. I made a mental note to drizzle pancake syrup on his bike handlebars later that night. 

I blinked and cursed the tears that trailed into my ears. What was more wounded, my head or my pride? I couldn’t tell ya.

Blades of grass swished to make way for an approaching pair of feet. I’d know those scuffed Adidas anywhere. “You good?” Jared asked, not quite meeting my eye. 

Here was my chance. The opportunity to throw in the towel, rest these gams and start a fresh game tomorrow. 

Or…

Or I could prove that I was indestructible. Jenika Thompson. Fast and fearless. Definitely not a wuss.

“Does a bear poop in the woods?” I responded.

“She’s good!” he yelled to everyone in the game. “And she’s still it!”

Before I could say wait, maybe I’ve changed my mind because my head kinda hurts, before I could ask for help up, I was looking at the pebble-crusted sole of Jared’s shoes plodding away. 

And that’s when I heard it. 

Psssst. 

I sat up, and my head protested in pain.

Over here...

Curling chin into chest, I found myself staring at a sea of grass, the Radcliffe Road apartments and, much closer than that, an ancient tree wrapped in a dense robe of fog. The ancient tree. The one that had delivered a knockout punch to my noodle moments before.

Yessssss, right there. You want a rest? Tag me in.

I glared suspiciously at its stupid, thick trunk. “Trees don’t talk.”

And yet, stranger things have happened on this star. 

Slowly and shakily, I got up, keeping an eye on its stock-still bark the whole time. 

“You must be...are you different from a regular tree?” I asked. 

Come closer. You’ll see. 

I took a couple steps forward. 

“Where’s your mouth? How are you even talking?” I continued to interrogate the plant.

A bit closer, ch-iii-ld. 

“How will you play tag though? You’re stuck there.” I squinted, trying to tell whether there was a flicker of movement, or if my brain was playing funny tricks on me. “You’ll be there until you get struck by lightning, or hacked with a chainsaw. My uncle has a chainsaw you know.” 

Far across the field, Jared yelled, “Jenika, watch out!” and the tree grew a body out the back. I mean, something hobbled out from behind the tree. 

Gotcha! it said. 

Even though it hadn’t really got me—not yet— my blood turned boiling hot, then freezing cold. What hunched in front of me was much worse than a talking tree. Draped in a tattered and dusty robe, the creature looked like it was from a land dead and long forgotten. Its skin was gray and cracked all over. Its lips had been gnawed almost completely off. The remaining flesh was white and flaking. Jagged teeth bared behind its puckered orifice. But the worst part was its eyes. Or where its eyes were supposed to be. The lids were sewn shut with a thin, dark line of bloodied stitches.

I tried to swallow, but a desert had claimed the landscape in my mouth. 

The thing smiled. If you could call it that. 

Something clicked into place.

Run.

I didn’t know who said it or who was wailing into the afternoon air. Months later, Kathy insisted those sounds escaped from my own throat. 

The thing clambered behind. 

One blurry glance showed me that Micah and Kathy had almost cleared the field. They were well on their way across the street and back home. I hoped they would get help in time from parents, a nanny, a construction worker. Anyone who had escaped the nightmare of childhood long ago. Jermaine was frozen in place, about halfway between me and them. When I saw the wet spot on the front of his pants, I reneged on my plan to vandalize his bike. His sobs could just be heard over the ker-chunk of my heart. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jared. He was doing something strange. The psychopath was sprinting toward us with teeth clenched and a fist raised like a gladiator in battle. Fierce and somewhat constipated. 

“Don’t!” I called to him, to my pursuer, to everyone, really. “Game’s over. Time out.” Trembling, I made the universal tip-of-fingers-meeting-other-palm-sign. “I just want to go home.”

The thing laughed. It was a disgusting sound, a loud cracking and swallowing, over and over again. 

“Go! Jenika, get out of here!” Jared yelled.

The treble in his voice kicked me into high gear, dissipating my headache into just a pinch of pain. I sprinted faster than when I had been chasing Kathy, faster than all the times Jared and I had raced to the slurpee store. The wind in my hair was rushing by so quick it whistled. That’s what it sounded like to fly. 

Then my right foot hit a divot in the ground, and I really flew. Ass over tea kettle, tumbling through the air.

“Nooooooooooo!” The injustice of it all. I was up front. I was getting away. That thing should have been eating my dust. 

I waited, breathing like Darth and stifling an asthmatic cough. Soon it would catch up, stand overtop my twisted limbs and block the sun. Everything would go dark when it stretched its mouth open to inhale my body. It’d skin me with its jagged teeth first though. I resigned myself to fate: eventual death by cannibalism. 

I turned my head to the side to see it dragging itself through the grass. For a moment, I wondered why it had such low energy but decided I would too if I’d been living on a curse for 100 years. My legs jittered, and as trivial as it sounds, I hoped my body wouldn’t succumb to the same fate as Jermaine’s. Though perhaps it wouldn’t matter by the time this thing was finished with me. 

The cracks in its skin widened into big, bloody holes. 

Now you’ll be it, it rasped, reaching out an impossibly long arm. I have bared this burden for far too long.

Its curled yellow fingernails inched closer to my body. 

I’m sorry, it whispered. Such a lonely life is this.

When its pointer finger was millimetres from scraping my ribcage, Jared flew into view and tackled our unwanted playmate to the ground. They hit the grass with an oof, and I scrambled to my feet, ninja warrior style, finally ready to put this bozo to bed. 

But that gusto was short-lived.

“Jared?” My voice cracked. “You good?” 

There was no one to hear me. My cousin and it were gone. Vanished. 

Turning in circles, I looked around the park wildly. No sign of anyone. They had all gone home. Woozy and stumbling, I did the same. 

***

“I’m not sure if that’s really how your cousin disappeared. You need to tell us the truth. You were closest to whatever happened.” 

I focus on a bookshelf, searching for a recognizable title. No Gone With the Wind or The Outsiders. I’m scanning for Lord of the Flies when Dr. Kellen interrupts me. 

“Jenika, what do you think about reconnecting with your friends? Your uncle says they miss you.”

“I don’t play games anymore.” 

Dr. Kellen leans forward in his purple leather chair. “Do you remember after hitting your head…...you got sick…and walked home alone?”

His question hangs, thick and complicated, like a tapestry between our solidarity.

“I should’ve been it. It came for me.” The voice that speaks is deeper than my old one, calloused by months of sorrow.

“Many people feel that way. It’s what we call survivor’s guilt. Completely normal.”

I whisper the new term to myself. It tastes like tin foil.

“I think deep down, you know that’s not what happened.” Dr. Kellen reasons. “Did you see a stranger in that park? Someone who approached you and your friends?”

I keep quiet. 

Dr. Kellen’s jaw tightens and then he takes a new tactic.

“This has been tremendously hard on your uncle. He’s lost a son, and he’s hurting just like you.” He stares until I lose the contest and need to blink.

Disappointment settles in when he sees the clock. “Next Wednesday let’s pick up where we left off. We’re out of time for today’s session unfortunately. I hope you know this is a safe place to share. You can trust me.” He pulls his mouth into a smile that deepens the wrinkles on his face. 

I give him the nod he wants and the question he doesn’t. “But do you trust me?”

When leaving, I poke Dr. Kellen in the shoulder. “You’re it, Doctor.” A shiver crawls up his spine and exits through his bald head.

#amwriting #writeblr #creativewriting #shortstory

[lifeisafunnyplace]

Birds singing

Water trickling

A soft glow of pink sky when he looked up.

Dark green ground drizzled with stars when he looked down, as far as his eyes could see. And there was this weird humming coming from the trees.

It was a loud quiet. All sounds and colours pushed at him from everywhere, made him want to close his eyes and hopefully drift off to sleep. Maybe then he would wake up to find all of this a faded memory of a wicked dream. None of this had never happened, not Astrid, not Baekhyun or diving into the pond. Most important, he certainly wasn’t left alone on the banks of a crystal clear river in the middle of the weirdest forest.

As he tried to smack one of the bugs buzzing around him, he startled realized they were not bugs but tiny fairies. All kind of colours, like beautiful butterflies, just that they were not butterflies at all. Chanyeol could tell they were surrounding him. Not close enough for him to grab, moving too fast for him to have a proper look. Like hummingbirds, only, they were not birds either.

More than once he snapped his body around, feeling he had someone’s eyes on him. If it wasn’t for how that was beyond crazy, he would have said he heard high-pitched laughter in the grass every time he threw his body around to try have a look.

In the river a shoal of silver- and gold patterned fish were passing by. That was when he noticed how he was not anywhere close to a pond. How could you dive into muddy water and end up here?

Chanyeol felt his head starting to spin, on the verge of passing out. To prevent it, he curled his long body together in the sand, rested his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes. Focused on breathing, he repeatedly told himself “it’s just a dream, it’s just a dream”.

“Hush! Off you go. Leave him alone”

A bright and familiar voice pulled Chanyeol out of his slumber. The previously painfully noisy forest turned completely silent around him.

“Chanyeol! You are here for real”

Baekhyun sat down on his heels and curled his arms around Chanyeol’s upper body from behind, pushed his chest onto his back and buried his nose in his hair.

Chanyeol grabbed those hands circling him, pulled them tighter, as if his life was depending on them. Finally he felt his body relax and he could breathe normally, his brain cells rocking back and forth to a soft melody in his heart. Baekhyun was here, they were good. Everything would be fine eventually.

“I was so scared” Baekhyun spoke against his neck. “I mean, it was my only chance, and I never thought you would follow. But now you are here and it’s amazing.”

A wave of powerful coughs ran through Chanyeol’s body as he tried to open his mouth to speak. He had swallowed a lot of water and it still burned. The smaller boy quickly pushed him around so that he could face him, never letting go of the touch on his skin.

“You’re in pain. Please let me help you” Baekhyun gently held Chanyeol’s chin in his hand and lifted it enough for their gaze to meet. Chanyeol had no idea of how his friend was going to help him. He had no strength to ask but closed his eyes and nodded faintly.

With his eyes still closed, he let the other arrange his body the way he wanted. His legs pushed down so he sat with them crossed in front of him rather than bent up against his chest, arms detangled and dropped down by his sides.

Slowly a pair of warm hands started to slide over his skin, starting from his neck and down both his arms. It felt a bit like a massage, a very weird one. His skin tickled under the touch and muscles felt warm and soft. The treatment continued down his sides and over his thighs, and the same way back up.

At his waist he felt them search for the hem of his shirt. All of him felt warm as those hands slid over his stomach and landed on his chest.

“Look at me”

Blinking a couple of times, to get used to the golden light around them, Chanyeol lifted his head and did as told. A pair of ice blue eyes were looking at him, soft but insistent.

“How do you feel?”

Chanyeol didn’t know how he felt, he had never before felt anything like this. He felt dizzy, but it was a pleasant fog. He felt heavy, but rested, warm and bubbly. Lost in the blue, all he could do was smile. A bright, toothy grin.

“Happy, I think I feel happy.” His voice bright and crisp, not showing traces of mud or fighting for air.

Tentatively he stretched his body, inhaled deeply, making the golden boy laugh.

“You look like a cat that just wake up, stretching like that” his voice light and smile wide.

“How? When? I mean... How did you do that?” His words tripped over each other on the way out. He had so many questions.

“It’s something my grandma thought me, to master my powers. Light is a powerful one, given by the sun and stars, and it’s healing. That’s what I did to you”

Chanyeol stared at the boy in front of him, trying to understand stuff that was not meant for humans to understand. When his words were stuck, Baekhyun helped him out. A slight tickle on his upper arms made Chanyeol drop his gaze to where fingers touched and forgotten was everything about healing powers.

His skin was drizzled with tiny stars. Wherever Baekhyun’s fingers had touched his skin, there were traces of cristals. Chanyeol jumped up from the ground, twisted his body, waved his arms, tried to get a look of all parts at once. His skin was gorgeous, reminded him of that Jongin- boy that saved him.

When done examining his own body, he bewildered turned to a patiently waiting Baekhyun. “I take it back” his friend chuckled.

Chanyeol pouted slightly and narrowed his brows a bit confused. “Take what back?”

“You’re not a cat, you’re a happy puppy chasing your tail”

Chanyeol was pulled into a tight hug while Baekhyun spoke, the smaller boy wrapping him in by arms and tail. Then he looked up and those eyes sparkled of silver again. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

He felt dizzy again, his heart spinning in his chest. He had no words, didn’t understand anything of what had been going on. Nevertheless, this was right, them being together was how it should be. Therefore, he did what he had wanted to do for too long, what his heart had been waiting for. He gently cupped the pretty face in front of him and leaned down to kiss Baekhyun. They were no longer friends, they were a lot more.

Something tickled like crazy and he had to end the kiss too early, his body twisting to avoid what caused it. His eyes followed a bundle of hair resting on his neck, just under his air, down to where it was attached to the other. How had he never seen that one before?

“I’m sorry” Baekhyun quickly pulled back his tail. “I felt a bit excited and well, a happy tail has a life of his own it seems”

The beautiful boy looked down shyly, a blush colouring the tip of his ears. Chanyeol stretched out a hand to touch it. Strong and soft, hard underneath, like silk on the surface. It was nothing like a cow’s tail.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered. “Beautiful like you”

Before wrapping Baekhyun in his arms and demanding another kiss, he added “I’m sure I will get used to it” It was a smiling kiss, giving away how he felt on the inside. So very happy.

Walking hand in hand under majestic trees felt like home. Baekhyun was his bubbly self, chatted away about everything in sight. He pointed out where everyone lived, told stories about unlucky trolls turned to stone when they had been too slow to hide for the sun. On cloudy days, they dared go hunting in daylight. As someone bored, that also held the powers of the light, Baekhyun was a threat to the stupid long-nosed creatures. Chanyeol was not even surprised.

The more Baekhyun showed him, the more questions popped up in his head. This was such an amazing place. Books would have to be rewritten. He wanted to take photos, or starting painting. This place was beyond beautiful and the prettiest part of it was walking close to him, holding his hand, leading the way, over a bridge, under a waterfall, a tail of colourful fairies following them.

Anyone they met greeted him warmly. No one asked any questions, they just knew. Like he belonged here, had done for a long time. Aware of the stars drizzled all over his skin, he felt like he did too.

#exo #chanbaek #exo fanfiction #chanbaek fic #supernatural #supernatural creatures #baekyeol fic

[pen-masta]

Let’s Play Pretend Part 7

Prologue  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8

The first time he wakes up it’s because of the sun shining against his window blind bringing a warm glow into his room. He squints his eyes and slowly moves his arm around to check his watch—seven thirty in the morning. This is the normal time he’d be getting up to get ready for class. But today is Sunday, not only is it a Sunday, but the Sunday before a week off for Thanksgiving. He nuzzles back into his pillow relaxing more, smiling into the face of Joy as she sleeps.

Perhaps it’s weird but he always loved to watch her sleep. When they were teenagers he used to pretend to be asleep and wait for her to actually fall asleep, just so he could look at her. She was so beautiful even in this moment with her curls a slight mess and snoring lightly. Her eyes drifted shut, the crease in her forehead relaxed, and her lips parted just slightly allowing her breath to beat against his chin causing the hairs there to move in the wake. She even has the tiniest of relaxed smiles as she lies against him.

He blinks and realizes how close she is and suddenly how wrong this feels. He grits his teeth and decides he needs to change positions. Gingerly he leans back into the wall, carefully separating their legs which had gotten tangled together in the night, and ever so slowly he turns to face the wall. As much as he loves her and hopes she loves him to, he just doesn’t know how she’d feel if she woke up that close to him…although it was her idea to sleep like this in the first place so she knew how small the bed would be and how they’d practically be on top of each other…

His rational panicked side wins out and decides it’s best to lay like this for now, until he’s sure that his feelings resonate with her. As Rational and Irrational Castel battle in his head Castel yawns and slowly drifts back to sleep—seeing that the few hours of slumber he’s had were not enough to satisfy his body.

When he wakes up the second time he almost jumps when he sees the wall, forgetting where he is. The initial shock wears off as his sleepy brain kicks awake and he sighs checking his watch again—nine o’clock. He yawns and scratches at his scalp and looks over his shoulder to see a mass of brown, blue, and purple curls. He blinks and realizes Joy had turned away from him in her sleep. He ignores the pain that stabs his heart that she had turned away from him—after all it was in her sleep and not really a conscious decision…and didn’t he turn away from her first? He’s such a hypocrite.

He stretches his arms above his head and rolls back to face Joy. He sits up cracking his back trying to decide if he should get up or not. He glances at Joy and sees she’s laying on the very edge of the bed. If she rolled even in the slightest she’d fall off the bed. He frowns and wraps his arm around her waist and gently pulls her back away from the edge.

Just as he starts to move her, her eyes scrunch up before she whines in her sleep. He freezes as she huffs in protest of being moved. She wiggles and squirms on the bed next to him before stretching her arms out in front of her the way a cat would. He smirks and even chuckles a little at that, but before he can stop her she wraps her arm around his hooking it up to her chin and locking it in place with her other arm. He withholds a yelp as he’s pulled back down to a laying position. He blinks watching as she nuzzles his arm and smiles a little before she decides she’s comfortable again and goes still.

He lays there staring at his now trapped arm, if he moves it at all he’ll wake her. He’s stuck. He lays like this for a moment or two before sighing and snuggling into the mattress--after all he doesn’t have much of a choice. He yawns feeling the cushions of the old bed pulling him back into a comfortable bliss. His eyes are almost shut when he hears it. A very faint noise, that catches his sleepy attention. It’s an airy giggle. No, it’s an airy giggle of his name.

He blinks again and cranes his neck to look at her profile.

“Joy?” He whispers, “Joy are you awake?”

She says nothing. No response, no body movement, she is out cold. But she had giggled his name...in her sleep! He waits another moment to see if this is some kind of prank she’s pulling on him--Joy is known to tease him in such a way. But the slow speed of her breathing let’s him know she is still very much asleep. So he smiles.

He smiles and decides to truly accept his new position, and pulls her closer to him. He nuzzles his head into her neck smiling at the fact that even in her sleep he’s making her giggle. Ten percent.

He smiles and cuddles closer to her, resting his head next to hers on the pillow. His smile grows as he inhale the sweet smell of strawberries her hair is still emanating. The scent reminds him of strawberry shortcakes and strawberry Danishes drizzled with vanilla sugar frosting. Both treats are so warm and sweet, very similar to the girl who lays next to him in the bed.

A small hum of contentment rolls out of him as he snuggle close to her; his legs wrapping around hers, her back pressed against his chest, little brown curls just brushing against his nose. Another hum hits the air only it’s not from him, it’s from Joy. He grins more and as he drifts back into slumber he thinks to myself, Fifteen percent.

The next time he wakes up it’s because of Joy. She’s wiggling and squirming around so much it jostles him out of his sleep.

“Joy,” he whines tightening his grip on her, ceasing her movemnet. “Stop moving. I’m trying to sleep.” He groans squeezing his eyes tight. 

Joy sighs smiling, “Yeah ok sure, but I gotta pee.” She giggles and looks at him over her shoulder, “So can the prisoner be released, Warden?”

He growls and mumbles incoherently into her back. He tries to move his arm, he really does but he’s so tired the nerves in his arm are just not getting the memo. He must be taking too long because she starts to wiggle again causing him to whine loudly which in turn makes her laugh.

“Jooooooy,” he whines like a small child.

“Casssssie,” she whines back mocking him.

He growls and decides that if she wants to continue to wiggle and squirm around, he’ll give her a reason too. With eyes still shut, he smiles evilly as he begin to gently tickle her stomach where his hand rests. Joy stops moving for a moment before she wriggles violently.

“That’s not releasing! That’s not releasing!” She laughs out and tries to pry his arm away.

He chuckles holding her tighter to him to remove all hope of escape.  She laughs and tries to get away, when she realizes she can’t pry his arm away she changes tactics. Being very close to each other in this moment gives her a bit of an advantage. She quickly shoots her hand back to poke his side. 

It all happens so fast. He yelps and reels back from her only to slam his head into the cement wall. He cries out and his legs curl up, kneeing her in her back causing her to squeak before tumbling to the floor. The room is silent. The only noise is his minor moaning, and Joy breathy panting.

He whimpers and rubs the spot on his head.

“Serves you right jerk,” Joy giggles breathlessly from the floor.

He whines again and she sits up. Her eyes just peeking over the edge of the mattress.

“You ok Casper?” She asks concerned still panting. 

He moans again and nods, “Yeah I’m alright.” He huffs and holds his head.

Joy smiles a little and stands up leaning over his curled form. She gently removes his hand from his scalp before placing a little kiss on the slowly swelling sore spot. He blinks and looks up to see her smiling.

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” she says.

He shrugs and shakes his head, “No need to be.”

She nods and cracks her neck, “Well I don’t mean to leave you in your wounded state, but I wasn’t kidding about having to pee.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, “Go on go. Wound me and then leave me.”

“You wounded yourself,” she snickers before hurrying out of the room.

He stretches out on his back staring up at the ceiling. He debates on whether or not he should count that little kiss as anything. Should he count it as three percent or two percent? Or any percent at all? Would she have done that whether she loved him or not? Well she used to do that all the time when they were kids and he got hurt, come to think of it he used to do that to her as well. So is it a love thing or a friend thing or any kind of thing?

He’s so lost in his fog of swirling questions he doesn’t see her standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He registers a sigh and his eyes dart to her direction. She’s standing in the door frame looking at her reflection in his mirror. She’s twirling a curl around fingers with an odd look on her face. It looks as though she’s going to cry and yet she’s in deep thought.

He sits up and clears his throat, “Jojo? You ok?”

“Do you like my hair?” She asks a little too loudly

He blinks, that’s an odd question.

“Yeah I like it, I said that yesterday.”

“No you said it was different,” she corrects still not looking at him.

“A good different.”

“Does that mean you like it?” She says her eyes glancing at him for the first time. And suddenly they’re locked with the floor, “I mean I like it. I like the colors. I like the length. Though it’s never been this short before, but it’s nice to not have all the weight. And it’s light and it’s so much more easy to mange now and...” she rambles on for another minute or two barely stopping to take a breath.

He stares at her as she continues on her voice becoming white noise as he assesses the situation. Something happened. Something happened from the giggling to the bathroom and back. He’s not sure what’s triggered this, but there’s an undertone in her voice that he very rarely hears from her. Insecurity.

The words she saying, the endless list she has, it’s not that she’s trying to convince him she looks good with this new dew. But rather she’s trying to convince herself. He looks her over for a moment. Standing in the doorway of his bedroom, in his oversized flannel shirt, little elephant tattoo on her ankle, wildly colored curls...she sure doesn’t look like his childhood best friend. She looks more like his lover.

He shakes his head still hearing her fuzzy voice in the background. This has to stop. Getting up he crosses over to stand in front of her. She’s still bumbling through sentence after sentence about all the positives in having short hair. He puts one hand on her should and the other on her cheek. This shocks her out of her endless stream of words, and her eyes shoot to his.

He smiles sweetly, “I think you look beautiful Joy.” He moves his one hand from her shoulder into her hair pulling lightly at the curls. “It is very different I’m not gonna lie.” He can see the short breath she takes in and some flashes in her eyes that’s never normally there. Fear. But he continues smiling gently, “But it looks good on you. I like it Jojo. I like it a lot.” He says and he means that genuinely. Yes it’s different and it’s kind of a bit more wild than Joy has ever been, but he really does like it.

He notes how she breathes out the breath she was holding and he can feel her body slumping back into relaxation. He’s not sure why his opinion mattered so much to her right then but at least it calmed her down--he’s afraid she would have started hyperventilating soon if she didn’t take a breath.  

“Are you hungry?” He asks changing the subject

She blinks before smirking, “You know I’m always hungry.”

He chuckles, “Well you know I have no food here so let’s get dressed and go out and eat.”

“Sounds like a plan, stan.” She smiles and salutes him before grabbing her duffel bag from the floor and racing back to the bathroom. “Dibs on bathroom!” She calls before she slams the door shut.

He laughs and shakes his head before taking a seat on his bed. He analyzes what just happened. Why was she so worked up about her hair? Why did his opinion matter so deeply to her? Joy has never been one to care about what others think of her, so why now? Why him?

He sits on his bed in his own head trying to figure out what’s going on with her when a bag is thrown at him. He yelps as the bag knocks into his chest before falling into his lap.

“Dude I called your name like three times,” Joy snickers as she tosses his flannel onto the bed next to him.

He looks up to see she’s fully dressed--wow how long was he in his own head? He blinks and sees she’s now wearing a pink shin high frilly skirt, her pink Converse, rainbow suspenders that are covered in pins and bows she’s glued on--which hang at her hips, a t-shirt with a hammer on it that reads “this is not a drill!”, and cherry earrings. A little red heart fake tattoo sits on her cheek now, a daisy flower headband mixed in her hair, and of course his--her letterman.

She smiles at him as he stares at her, “You just gonna sit there and stare or are you gonna get a move on? I’m starving dude.”

He shakes his head and smiles, “I wasn’t staring and you’re not starving you’re just hungry.”

“Don’t tell me what I am,” she sticks her tongue out at him.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes before standing up.

“You know the difference between starving and hungry?” He asks as he scours the floor for some jeans.

“Nope but I bet you’re gonna tell me,” she sighs dramatically.

“Starving is when you’re literally dying of hunger and hungry is just simply the lack of food in your system, but not enough to kill you.” He smiles and picks up a pair of jeans that look moderately clean. He pulls off his t-shirt and throws it to the floor listening to her sigh.

“Thank you for the lesson professor,” Joy teases.

He chuckles and it sounds like she’s going to continue on, but she doesn’t for some reason. That reason being while she was winding up to tease him, Castel had in one movement husked his night pants off and kicked them off to the side. He now stands in his boxers in front of her--something that through all the years of knowing each other is not something new. He steps into his jeans before looking up at her.

Her eyes have widened slightly and a blush is clear on her face. She looks kind of shocked really which puzzles him. After this isn’t the first time she’s seen him like that.Countless times has she walked in on him getting dressed, or they had to share a small changing space, really this is no different than his swimming trucks. But this time is different, this time she’s blushing, this time she’s been caught off guard. She quickly looks away and twirls the curl by her ear around her finger.

“You know you really should do laundry before we go home,” she says quickly.

He blinks and stares at her, the way she’s standing, how quickly she’s speaking, the twirling of her curl--she’s nervous! He made her nervous! And what other reason would she be nervous than because she saw him in his boxers, which is nothing new but maybe this time she feels different! And that’s why it made her nervous and made her blush!

He smiles, twenty-five percent.

“Yeah yeah I’ll do the laundry when we get back,” he says and opens his dresser drawer. He pulls out a t-shirt that is sure to be clean seeing that he never wears anything from his drawer. He pulls it on and slaps his UW cap on his head beaming at her. “Ready?”

She blinks, gives her head a quick shake and smiles, “Ready when you are.” She smiles and turns to walk out into the living room.  

He goes to follow before glancing at the flannel on the bed. Well...it was kind of chilly outside. Without a second thought he pulls the shirt on and smiles happily as her sweet scent surrounds him...maybe he’ll wash everything but this shirt.

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

As they ride the elevator down Joy babbles on about their plans for the up coming week off, stuff they could do, stuff they should do, and so on. She’s only interrupted when her phone screams out “Shot through the heart! And you’re to blame! Baby you give love a bad name!”

She squeaks and pulls her phone from her pocket to silence the call. As fast as it happened, it was enough time for him to see who was calling. He’s not the one to be nosy and up in someone’s business, but really the picture caught his attention. It’s a picture of a brown haired guy with green eyes and a brown beard with a bunny sitting on his head. The name that flashed on the screen was Jesse Darlin’.

He doesn’t recognize the attractive young man, nor the name, but what cuts him deeply is the contact title. Darlin’. His brain immediately starts into overdrive, how could she have feelings for him if she has a guy in her phone with the contact name Darlin’. What was his contact in her phone? Cassierole? Dork-a-doo? He can’t remember she’s constantly changing it with all the nicknames she has for him, but none of them express her affection like Darlin’ does. He grits his teeth as his twenty-five percent rapidly dwindles to ten percent.

“Sorry about that,” Joy says and stuffs the phone in her pocket. “Just a friend from school.” She smiles up at him and hooks her arm through his, “Where were we?”

“You were talking about the amusement park off of route--”

“Oh yes!” She exclaims and jumps right back in.

He glances at the pocket that holds her phone. That’s the same ringtone that rang last night at the yogurt shop. Joy had taken the guy’s call then, but if he recalls she had rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to answer, and right now she’s still ignoring his call. She’s ignoring his call to spend time with Castel. Her Castel. He smiles a little, well it’s gotta mean something if she’d rather spend time with me than talk to this guy on the phone. So we’ll say twenty percent.

When they get to the street her arm is still linked with his as they stroll down the sidewalk. He smiles more when her grip tightens on his arm pulling herself closer to him as she talks. He counts that as five percent.

“So where do you wanna eat?” He asks cutting Joy off of her daydreaming out loud Thanksgiving break plans.

“How much money do you got?” She asks with a smirk.

He laughs, “Can’t you bring your own money?”

She sighs dramatically and puts her hand on her forehead as if she were going to faint.

“Ho hum, I’m a damsel in distress! I am starving and I have no money to purchase food! Won’t some knight in shinning armor with a wallet come save me!”

He snorts and laughs which makes her giggle, “Alright alright I’ll buy breakfast.” He smiles.

“Wouldn’t it be more like lunch now?” She inquires and he pokes her side.

“Whatever meal of the day it is you’re still a mooch,” he teases and she sticks her tongue out at him.

He returns the gesture and takes out his wallet opening it to find a twenty dollar bill. “Well it’s not restaurant worthy.”

“But it’s the best kind of worthy,” she grins her eyes sparkling,  “Fast food worthy!”

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

He brings their tray of greasy, cheesy, tacos over to where she sits.

“Alright two hard tacos, one grilled chicken taco, and two sweet teas.” He says setting the tray down. “Extra Blazing sauce per request.”

Joy pouts, “Cassie I didn’t want a sweet tea.”

“I know I know,” he sighs and slides into the seat across from her. “They aren’t making any freezies right now something’s up with the machine. So I got you your second favorite drink.” He smiles.

Joy’s lips quirk into a grin as well, “Oh alright all is forgiven not your fault my knight.”

He chuckles and picks up his grilled chicken taco.

“You know I’ve been thinking about it and I think I might have something to give you to cover my meal,” Joy says.

“Heck of a time to think of that now that my money is gone,” he teases.

She waves her hand dismissively as she then starts to dig through the pockets of her jacket, taking out various items in search of her money. On the table she lays down her room key, a stack of fake tattoos, a little slip of paper with stickers on it, three tubes of lip gloss, red, blue, and green scented markers, a few sticks of bubble gum, a purple sticky hand toy, some cough drops, a container of Silly Putty, a crumbled up pink sticky note, a gold class ring with a blue gem and it that looks a little too big for her, her cell phone, a tube of chap stick, and finally a rainbow splatter painted duck taped wallet.

He blinks and chuckles, “You know Joy I’ve heard of this new amazing product, it’s groundbreaking but hear me out...It’s called a purse.” 

She narrows her eyes at him and huffs, “I don’t like purses, ok you don’t know what it’s like to be a woman.” She jabs her finger at him, “No ovaries no opinion!” 

He laughs as she opens the wallet and blushes, “On second thought I am just gonna have to pay you back C-bear.”

He smiles and unwraps his taco, “Don’t worry about it Jojo. I don’t mind buying food for my mooch.”

“I’m not a mooch,” she laughs and opens her taco taking a Blazing sauce pouch into her hand. She reads the outer message on the pouch as she opens her taco and giggles, “Hey dork-a-doo, what do you call an acid with an attitude?”

He smiles, “I don’t know what Jojo?”

She snickers trying to contain herself, “A-mean-o-acid!” She laughs and he joins in her mirth--more so at how much she’s laughing over the corny joke.

He smiles as she rips open the pouch with her teeth before dumping the contents onto her taco. She carefully distributes the sauce over her taco. She sticks her tongue out a little, biting it as she concentrates on her task. He smiles when she starts to hum a tune that sounds a little like Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe. It isn’t until she looks up at him again that he realizes he’s been staring at her…grinning like a dope.        

“What’s up?” She asks

He shakes his head, “Nothing nothing,” he chuckles and bites into his taco.

She smiles cutely and kicks off her sneakers before pressing her bare feet against his knees. He doesn’t mind her feet against him, but it’s kind of gross that she’s in a public place with nothing on her feet. He wants to lecture her about the germs and how unwise this choice is and how she doesn’t know what’s on the floor, but he doesn’t open his mouth.

Instead his mouth is stretched into loving grin watching as she continues to focus on her spicy sauce distribution, her humming, her feet against him, her toes wiggling to the beat she humming, her tongue just barely sticking out as she concentrates. Her hair curling by her ears, the cute little white daisies standing out in her wild hair dew, her light pink blush on her cheeks, she looks utterly adorable. His heart throbs in his chest as he folds his arms on the table, just smiling and staring at her. He loves her so very much it pains him. And it looks like she’s enjoying herself as her feet rest against him, she wants to be close to him so he’d say he’s at thirty percent, maybe even forty. This is working out so good so far, at this rate he’ll be confessing to her before the end of the day. Joy looks up at him and the way she looks at him makes a warmth spread across his face and he prays he’s not blushing again. Joy smiles and bites into her taco.

He smiles and bites into his taco, Joy looks up at him again and looks as though she’s going to speak but she’s cut off by a loud rumbling sound. They both turn to see where the noise is coming from. Looking out the window they can see a group of bikers pulling into the parking lot, reeving their motorcycle engines loud. After a moment they turn the bikes off and the rumbling stops. Joy shrugs and turns back to her food, but Castel is still a little curious. He watches as the four guys stroll in through the Taco Toll doors. They all look like something cross between bikers and cowboys, but the one who stands out the most is the one guy at the front.

He dawns a black cowboy hat, an open black heavy looking dusty leather jacket, and a red and brown flannel shirt which he has buttoned and tucked into his jeans. His blue jeans look worn and even more dusty than his jacket, and he wears a brown belt with a big gold buckle just above his zipper—it looks like it has a bald eagle on it. He wears dark sunglasses, and brown muddy hunting boots. There’s the collar of a camouflage shirt peeking out around his neck where he’s left the top button of his flannel undone, and a black bandana with skull teeth covers his mouth. He pulls the bandana down off of his face to put a tooth pick in between his lips, and he takes off his sunglasses before turning to his pack and instructing them to get some food. Watching the small group head to the line Castel decides to stop staring and turn back to his own friend.

He opens his mouth to say something when there’s a noise, a very loud noise that fills the air. It sounds like someone whistling very loud grabbing everyone’s attention before a deep voice yells out a very articulate, “Yeeeeeehaw!”

Joy’s entire body tenses, the taco drops from her hand, her eyes widen, and he hears her say quickly, “Oh God please no!”

Castel turns just in time to see the guy in the black cowboy hat cupping his hands around his mouth as he yells. And then it all happens so fast he can hardly process it all. The guy smiles wide and charges at them, well no not at them—at Joy. He hoots and hollers as he scoops Joy out of her chair and into his arms. Joy lets out a loud yelp as the guy starts spinning around in circles, holding her bridle style in his arms.

After a moment he stops spinning and smiles brightly at Joy, “I found ya Bunny!” He yells happily, his southern accent very thick.

Joy shakes her head and glares the guy, “Jesse. Put. Me. Down.” She articulates.

“As the lady wishes,” he grins and sets Joy back on her feet.

Castel blinks unsure of what just happened, but he doesn’t  get the chance to figure it out. The guy turns his head, puts his fingers in his mouth, and whistles so loud Castel’s pretty sure his are bleeding. The three men he came in with turn to look at him and he waves his hat in the air.

“Looky here fellas! Look who I found!” He cheers.

And then there’s a stampede complete with cheers and yells from the three guys as they charge over to the table.

Joy’s eyes widen, she takes a few steps back, and she holds her arms out in front of her. “No, no, no, no, no!” She yells in a futile attempt to stop them—but it’s no use.

One of the guys grabs her around her middle and tosses her over his shoulder, before jumping around. Joy gives a desperate and high pitched ‘yip!’ before she starts laughing as she’s lifted into the air. The rest of the guys laugh and clap and holler as this all happens—it’s almost as if they’ve forgotten they’re in public.

The guy finally stops jumping and Joy pounds her fists into his back.

“Forrest, you cattywampus harebrained crooner!” Joy laughs, “You put me down this instant!” She demands and knocks his hat off his head.

“Only if you ask nicely sugar cube!” Forrest laughs and jumps again.

Joy laughs, “Forrest put me down, please!”

“Well I’d be happy to oblige, there lil’ lady.” Forrest smiles and puts Joy down.

She shoves him hard playfully and laughs, “Geez gotta jostle around my insides, don’t cha?” Joy complains and rubs her stomach where she had been resting against his shoulder. “I think you moved my lower intestine up near my diaphragm.” She shakes her head and smiles, “Normal people just shake hands you know?”

“What gave you the idea we was normal?” One of the other guys asks

Joy giggles a little, “A very true argument Cooper.”

Joy fixes her shirt and turns around. Her eyes are locked on Jesse and instantly her smile drops. Her brow furrows and she shoves passed the other three men to get to him. Jesse is much taller than Joy is, so she grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks him down until they are eye level. Jesse gives a goofy smile and Joy grits her teeth; a fire burning in her eyes.

“Why are you here?”

Jesse rolls his eyes and chuckles, “I came to get ya Bunny.”

“I told you not to come!” Joy hisses and stomps her foot, “What part of don’t come Jesse, do you not understand?”

Jesse shakes his head and eases her hand off of his shirt, “Easy now Bunny, no need to be a Dixie Diva.”

“How did you even know I was here?” Joy demands with her hands on her hips.

“Well I was talking to your roommate.” Jesse smiles and puts his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “She told me you was going home for the week, but then I woke up on Friday and you was already gone. Then I found out you were headed out here before you were headed home.” He chuckles and scratches at his brown beard, that Castel is just noticing now because…?

Joy cheeks burn bright red as she grits her teeth, “She told you?”

“Yeah,” Jesse smiles brightly. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

Joy growls and closes her eyes, “I didn’t tell you cause I didn’t want to tell you, I thought I made that clear.” She hisses and crosses her arms.

He waves away her comment and continues, “Anyways I asked her if you had left for home early and she said you were going to go to Seattle Washington to visit a friend. The boys and I had a gig in the next town over last night and I figured afterwards I’d come over here and getcha.”

Joy makes a face and Jesse backtracks, “Don’t look at me like that Bunny.” He says and holds his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t know you was here here. I knew you were in here in Seattle, but I didn’t know where. We was just about to start looking when the boys said they were hungry and we decided to stop for some grub.”

“And you just had to choose here, didn’t cha?” Joy smiles sarcastically and narrows her eyes.

“By chance we did,” Jesse smiles not catching on to her sarcasm. “And fancy that! Boom! Here ya are!”

“Yes here I am,” Joy says in sarcastic happiness. “I’m here with my friend!” She hisses and growls a little. “And you’ve just ruined a perfectly nice lunch I was having with him.”

“Friend?” Jesse questions and looks over at Castel for the first time. His eyes widen and he takes off his hat, revealing his brown spiked up hair—the tips of his spikes are died a light red. “Well butter my behind and call me a biscuit! My apologies there fella!” He smiles sheepishly and walks closer to the table. “I didn’t even realize you was here, I was so happy about finding my Bunny I didn’t even notice you.”

“Bunny?” Castel questions his face contorting. He shakes his head thinking that’s not the question to be asking right now. “I’m sorry, who are you?” He asks

“Names Jesse,” he smiles and puts his hat on his head. “Jesse Darlin’.”

Castel blinks staring at this brown haired, green eyed man and realize he’s the guy that’s been trying to call Joy. And although he seems to be happy about finding Joy, she does not look happy to see him—it’s clear she doesn’t want him here.

Alright snap out of it Cas! He thinks to himself, This has gone on long enough you have to do something to get this guy to leave Joy alone. She doesn’t want him here. You’ve got to do something.

“And who might you be?” Jesse smiles kindly

Joy steps closer to the table starting to introduce him. “This is—” she starts to say but Castel cut her off.

He smile and stand up holding his hand out to Jesse, “Castel. I’m Joy’s boyfriend.”

Jesse’s eyes seem to sparkle a little and he grips Castel’s hand firmly, and places his other hand on top of their hands. He shakes Castel’s hand so hard and so fast his entire arm shakes. He smiles a big toothy grin and rolls the tooth pick to the side of his mouth.

“Well dippery do! That just about dills my pickle! So you’re her beau? Glad to meet cha Mr. Beau!” He grins and stops shaking Castel’s hand, but he doesn’t let go. “I’m Jesse. Her fiancé.”

[jarienn972]

Debt of Honor (intro)

Okay, this might be cheating a little on the Inktober Whump prompts, but it fit perfectly in to day 10 - Held at Gunpoint.  I originally posted this a little over a year ago and the full short story can be found on Tumblr, AO3 or FF.net.  It’s mostly a little CaptainCharming piece that’s set roughly post 5B.  I’m going to tag @killian-whump on this one because I found the whole Whumptober prompt list on her page and I know she’ll appreciate this.  I have a few ideas for some of the future prompts too...

"Any idea what this thing is that we're following?" Killian asked as David abruptly pulled his old Ford pickup truck off the side of the road, veering onto the muddy berm and splashing through one of the deep puddles formed by the morning's rainstorm.

"Not really sure," David replied as he slammed the gearshift into park, "but it headed off that way." He pointed at a narrow footpath through a thicket of old growth oak and pine forest. "This is as far as we can follow it on the road. We'll have to take it on foot from here."

Wonderful, Killian thought. Trudging through the woods at the edge of town chasing god knows what. Just another typical Tuesday morning is Storybrooke… A giant creature with fangs that were probably sharper than his hook comes barreling through the center of town terrorizing the citizens and he's daft enough to volunteer to drive it out of town.

As they both climbed out of the truck, David drew his weapon from his holster.

"No one has ever seen this beast before?" Killian wondered, feeling a bit unprepared as he hadn't had the foresight to bring a cutlass with him to breakfast.

"Nope," David stated. "This is a new one. To me, it looked kind of like a really big mountain lion."

"Mountain lion? Do they grow to the size of small horses around here because the creature I saw was a lot bigger than a mountain lion?"

"I just said it looked like a mountain lion. All I know is it seemed to be some sort of really big cat."

"Big cat….Wonderful…," Killian sighed. "Don't suppose you have a spare weapon on you? I seem to have been caught slightly unarmed. Don't think my hook will serve as much of a deterrent to a giant cat."

"Yeah – I keep a sword stashed behind the seat. You know, just in case."

Killian raised an eyebrow in amusement as the prince grinned. Leaning into the truck, he found the sword and scabbard wrapped in a slightly threadbare striped towel on the floorboard behind the bench seat. He quickly unwrapped it and flung the towel onto the seat as he tucked the scabbard under his left arm to hold it securely while he pulled the blade free.

"Always good to be prepared," Killian smiled as he tossed the scabbard onto the seat with the towel and pushed the door closed.

"Okay – let's go find this thing," David said as he closed the driver's side door and walked around the front of the truck, eyeing the muddy path ahead of them that led deep into the dark forest. Thankfully, the earlier heavy rain had tapered off to a drizzle which, while still annoying, at least meant that the creature's footprints weren't being washed away, leaving them a trail of distinct impressions to follow. Both men had an uneasy feeling as they tracked the beast but each knew that the animal clearly needed to be subdued before it harmed someone and they'd tasked themselves with that responsibility.

Nearly twenty minutes later and about a mile off of the road, they realized the trail had abruptly ended in a grassy clearing. Without a word spoken between them, they exchanged looks that communicated exactly what each was thinking – where the hell did it go? Surrounded by low brush and towering trees, there were a multitude of places where the beast could be lying in wait so they knew choosing wrong could be fatal. Killian was to the right of David and he turned slowly away from the prince, scanning the foliage before him for any sign of movement. David, on the left flank, gave the bushes on his side the same scrutiny – that is until a low, guttural growl froze them both in their tracks and drew their attention toward a cluster of oak trees to their north.

And to a pair of glowing fiery orbs stating back at them.

"Bloody hell…," Killian muttered, raising the sword as the creature ventured out of the cover of the trees and padded toward them. The huge feline with a coat the deepest shade of obsidian glared at them and as it snarled, bared its fangs – each four or five inches in length and dripping saliva. As he finally got a good view of the animal, David thought it reminded him of a panther – but where had a panther come from in the woods of Maine? "Any ideas, mate?" Killian asked as his own mind was drawing comparisons to a very different fearsome creature he had unfortunately stared down. He just hoped that this one didn't sprout additional heads.

"How do you say 'stop or I'll shoot' to an animal?" David asked as he raised the gun and lined up his sights as the creature continued its aggressive motion toward them. "Nice kitty…"

"Nice kitty?" Killian couldn't believe that David had just said that, but he was less concerned about the prince's poor choice of words than he was of the fact that the feline was still coming toward them, seemingly ready to devour one or both of them for its breakfast. "I don't think we're going to be able to reason with it," he stated, unable to divert his eyes from the beast which was now less than a hundred feet in front of them and not the least deterred by their weapons.

"I really don't want to do this but…," David pulled back on the trigger, firing a single shot toward the creature. He didn't know if a lone bullet would bring it down, but he sure hoped it would at least slow it down or stop its advances before those razor sharp fangs tore them both apart.

Only what happened next was something that neither of them could have imagined, nor would they have believed if someone had tried to tell them this tale.

The bullet David fired never reached its intended target. Instead of striking the menacing animal, the projectile suddenly halted in mid-air, hovering in front of them for what seemed like an eternity before it regained its velocity – and a new trajectory.

One aimed directly at Killian.

By the time either could mentally register what was happening, there was no time to shout a warning. No time to try to dive out of the way. Killian's only recourse was to twist his torso just enough to his right so that the bullet tore into his left shoulder instead of striking him mid-chest. The searing hot bullet ripped into his flesh, radiating pain across his chest and down the length of his arm. His brain seemed to react in slow motion as the reality that he'd just been shot sunk in and he staggered back a step. He let the sword fall to the earth as his hand instinctively covered the wound.

"Hook!" David shouted as he watched his friend and soon to be son in law drop to his knees and then tumble to the wet grass while clutching tightly to his injured left shoulder. He still couldn't fathom what he'd just witnessed: the bullet stopping in mid-flight then changing direction. Only magic could have done that, but as he shook his head to try to clear the fog of confusion and disbelief, the stark reality of their situation set in. His eyes darted around the clearing searching for any sign of the beast, certain that it was ready to pounce during this moment of vulnerability, but it was nowhere to be found. David fully expected it to attack as Killian lay bleeding on the rain soaked ground, but the assault never came, as though the creature had simply vanished.

Quite sure that his gun would be useless if the beast returned, David re-holstered it as he rushed across the clearing to check on the severity of Killian's wound. Crouching down next to him, David could clearly see that the pirate's fingers were already slick and stained with blood.

"What the hell just happened?" Killian wondered as he rolled onto his back, blades of damp grass and dirt clinging to the side of his face, his right sleeve and down his right side of his dark denim jeans. He instantly regretted changing position as a blinding, burning spasm hit.

"I honestly don't know," David replied.

"Where did that thing go?"

"No idea. It just vanished, but right now, let's see how much damage that bullet did." Reluctantly, Killian withdrew his blood drenched hand so David would have a clearer view of the wound.

"How bad does it appear to be?" Killian wondered as the prince peeled back layers of leather and cloth to locate the entrance wound.

"All I'm seeing is a lot of blood," David told him. "I need to see if there is an exit wound. Think you can sit up?"

"Aye," Killian nodded as David extended his hand to help him into a seated position. The answer was quickly evident as he noted the concerned look on the prince's face. "By your expression, I'm surmising that the bullet is still somewhere in my shoulder?"

"Unfortunately," David sighed. "A through and through would have been cleaner, but there's no exit wound and no way to know the bullet's position. We'll have to worry about it shifting."

"Then let's get back to town so Emma can heal it."

"It's a long walk back to the truck," David reminded him. "Think you'll be able to make it?"

"Unless you know of a better way, I don't think I have much of a choice, mate," Killian stated as David helped him to his feet, his stance already shaky. David stooped to retrieve the sword once he was sure the pirate was steady enough. He drew the flat of the blade across his thigh to wipe the debris and moisture from it, then had a thought to fish his cell phone from his jacket pocket only to be disappointed that there was no available signal this far from town.

"No signal to call for help," David said as he tucked the phone back into his pocket. "Look's like we're on our own. Let's get going before that thing comes back."

"Agreed," Killian stated as he took his first uneasy step toward the road and David's waiting truck. The prince followed warily behind, keeping his eyes peeled for a potential ambush that thankfully never came.

#cs ff #captain charming ff #whumptober #debt of honor

[tinkeringwithcannabis]

Tinkering with Cannabis: The First 90 Minutes Episode 59

Strain: Headband Full Spectrum Booster 

THC: 19.0%

Company: Sira Naturals

Locations: Somerville, Ma

Cannabis Connoisseur: Michael V. 

Website: www.siranaturals.org

 

     Hello again to all my cannabis loving and canna-curious friends, and welcome back to another episode of the First 90 Minutes! Today we will be talking and toking about the awesome Headband Full Spectrum Booster from Sira Naturals! Shout-out to my friend Michael V. At Sira’s Somerville, Ma location. So let’s talk a little bit about Headband and the full spectrum boosters before we get started. This citrusy, peppery, herbal strain has THC levels measuring up to 19%, and gets its flavor and effects from its top three terpenes: limonene, caryophyllene, and myrcene. 

 

   Limonene, the first most prominent terpene in Headband’s profile, contributes to the citrus taste consumers have noticed. It is very effective in treating stress, anxiety, and depression. Caryophyllene, which is responsible for adding the spice to Headband’s flavor profile, has been found beneficial in battling depression, anxiety, inflammation, and insomnia. Myrcene, which ranks third on this strain’s terpene profile, contributes to the spice flavor profile as well as the herbal notes exhibited. This terpene combats pain, inflammation, and is also an effective terpene for fighting insomnia and/or anxiety. This specific terpene profile attests to the fact that this strain is an excellent option for those treating stress, anxiety, depression, pain, and insomnia. Consumers have reported its effects to leave them feeling happy, euphoric, uplifted, relaxed, and creative, with potential negatives of dry mouth, dry eye, dizziness, headache, and paranoia. 

 

     Touching briefly on full spectrum boosters, these are cannabis concentrate oils that come in a pre-packaged syringe. Most places, including Sira, sell these products in the amount of 0.5 grams. The trait that makes these particular products so amazing is their versatility. They can be used in a dab rig, a dab pen, infused into edibles, drizzled over a joint, or used to make your own tincture (I’ll be doing a post on this very soon). They are easy to travel with, and I’ve found they hold up pretty well. I’ve been using half of the syringe in my dab pen and the other half in making my own tincture. The other aspect that really gets me excited about these products is their ability to allow patients to have an easy way to access strain-specific edibles and tinctures, so they can choose the effects they want by a particular strain, rather than use products that are not created from one particular strain. I find these to be a massive benefit to patients and consumers of cannabis everywhere, and I’d like to note that I really think these are an important addition to several dispensaries I have visited. Ok, now that we’ve run through our background portion of this strain, let’s jump ahead into our testing portion! So let’s light up, sit back, and relax as we toke and talk about The First 90- Minutes!

 

      Today I will be medicating with Headband via my G3 Pen on high to help address my depressed, anxious, and agitated mood, along with my physical and mental stress and tension. The scent of the strain is very spicy, peppery, and I notice the herbal scent a bit more than I am noticing any citrus notes. The flavor profile follow suit. With the medication session beginning at 7:45 p.m., I feel the initial effects begin to come on in less than 5 minutes. At 7:50 p.m., there is a cerebral floatiness along with a relaxed mental state that is creeping in and slowly putting my mind at ease. 

 

Checking in at 8:00 p.m., although the anxiety is still present, as is the agitation, my brain is having a hard time focusing on one thought. The thoughts that are coming in and out, although some may be upsetting and frustrating, as the moments pass I feel more of a “f*** it” type of vibe running through my mind, allowing me to continue to travel deeper toward a state of full mental relaxation. Physically, I do feel a bit relaxed, but the effects of this strain are definitely highlighted on the cerebral side. I can feel a sense of a headband wrapped around my head, which is most prominent at the front of my head, and somewhat noticeable around the temple area. I do feel a tad bit dizzy, but it is not too severe. My mood has improved, now swiftly moving toward a happier state.

 

Checking in at 8:20 p.m., although I feel that my level of concentration is very all over the place, it is not crazy to the point where I cannot stay connected to what is happening around me, or feeling any anxiety issues due to external stimuli. I still do not feel any real bodily relaxation beyond a slight feeling of my muscles releasing tension, but I do feel very mentally at ease and not easily rattled. Earlier, I was pretty upset and I was struggling not to get frazzled due to some external stressors with which I’ve been dealing. Now, I feel like whatever happens, happens... it is what it is. The dizziness is still present, and the headband feeling is still present, and I am feeling calm and relaxed. I am definitely feeling a creative boost coming on. I am happy and uplifted.

 

Checking in at 8:50 p.m., I am feeling the effects changing slightly, shifting to a little more focused high, and the anxiety, agitation, and anxiety seem to have fully resolved. My mood continues to remain in a happy and uplifted state. I am clear-headed enough to focus on creative projects, while remaining very mentally relaxed and calm. I am not experiencing any mental tension, and I mainly feel very at peace, which is helping me focus and remain rational as I process the aforementioned stressors; while also continuing to provide a creative boost to my mindset. Despite this creative boost, I am starting to feel somewhat sleepy. The dizziness has subsided with no new negatives.

 

Rounding the corner to our 90-minute mark at 9:20 p.m., I can definitely feel the effects wearing off, as I am feeling the effects shift, and mellow out, I still feel a sense of calm and relaxation. My mind is better able to focus, however it is still not fantastic as of yet. The headband feeling has decreased significantly, and although my mind has begun to return more toward normal, it has continued to keep a tinge of a fog still intact. My mood is still elevated, but not quite at as high of a level of happy as previous check-ins. By 9:45 p.m., the anxiety is somewhat returning, along with the agitation, leading me to believe that I will more than likely be medicating again very soon. In an attempt to run out the clock on this product, I timed the effects as they came to a complete end at 10:03 p.m., at which time I decided to medicate a different way using this booster.

As I mentioned earlier on in my post, these full spectrum boosters can be used to create your own tinctures at home. The take the trouble of trying to prepare the cannabis for your tincture right out of the equation, and the best part is all you need is a small measuring cup, a blow dryer, a microwave, and some base MCT oil of your choice. Where I have just done an in-depth review of this product in regard to its effects while vaping it, I am not going to go too far in depth with the tincture review. However, I will say that using these boosters to make your own tincture is a really effective way for patients who do not want to smoke or vape cannabis to have access to strain-specific cannabis products. If you would like this formula prior to the release of my tincture post, please feel free to DM me and I’d be happy to walk you through it!) When I used the tincture for my next medication session, I found myself experiencing the same calm, semi-enlightening experience of body and mind that I experienced earlier; but over a longer span of time. The smoothness of the Organic MCT Coconut oil I used to make this tincture was a nice addition to the spicy, peppery, and herbal flavor profile that dominates this strain.

 

Ok, moving ahead to the final thoughts. I LOVE this product and this strain. First, this strain is great for headaches, mental stress, and anxiety. I have been continuing to use this strain pretty consistently the past few days since my initial testing, and I have to say it has had me in a much more mellow place. I found that the negatives, regardless of whether it is consumed as a tincture or a dab, are very minimal compared to the level of relief felt. Taking into account the phenomenal effects, impressive ability to help relieve all of my symptoms, and the diversity of this product, I have to give this, hands down 5 stars. Sira, I really think you have a great thing going with these boosters! Another amazing product for the books, keep up the great work!

 

If you are a patient, or adult above the age of 21 in Massachusetts, check out the following link for where you can purchase this product:

https://www.siranaturals.org/where-to-buy-cannabis-massachusetts

Well my friends, we have reached the end of this review. Thank you for joining me and stay tuned for more product reviews!

 

Disclaimer:

*****Please remember, this blog is an account of my personal experience with this product. Not everyone has the same experience with every product and that is okay. I always recommend starting out with one or two hits to see if that is enough , and you can always increase your dose from there.*****

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[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 17

Relationship: Cassian Andor x OFC

Rating: Mature

Tags: Romance, Pre-Rogue One, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, Foul Language

Read on AO3

The storm gradually dropped in intensity and the weather went back to the ever present fog and drizzle. It was a nice change, Cora thought as she looked out the med bay window. It was almost peaceful. After the incident with the main generator they didn’t have much time to waste, with people working around the clock to fix the affected systems and the med bays busy caring for the wounded. As the storm died down, they started cleaning the debris on the landing strip and now she could once again see ships leaving the hangar. It seemed that everything was going back to normal.

But Cora wasn’t calm at all. In fact she was stressed as fuck. She had been informed a couple of days before that the council would be evaluating her time in the Alliance, and based on the result of that assessment, they would decide if they’d take off her bracelets, setting her free. They would finally be deciding if she was one of them or not. And today was the day when it would all be announced.

And Cora hated it. She hated being reminded that she was different from everyone else. Most of the time she didn’t even remember she had the bracelets on, since she never left the base anyway, but it was a thing of principle: as long as she had them on she was still a prisoner that had agreed to help in the med bay in exchange for limited freedom, and not a full member of the Alliance. She hated that they still didn’t trust her. She was doing her job as well as she could, she always did what they asked of her, and she had risked her life on two missions now, so it hurt being reminded that she didn’t belong.

And today she would have to stand in front of the council and see the disdain in their eyes as they decided her fate. A bunch of bureaucrats with sticks up their asses, who never once made any effort to get to know her and see where her loyalties lie, would stand in a circle and dissect her life and speak about her in absolutes. She felt like she wanted to choke every one of them.

But she had to admit that she carried some of the blame too: she always thought of the Rebellion as them instead of us. She guessed this stemmed from her time in the Empire where for years she tried mentally distancing herself from what was going on around her. You can’t be blamed for their actions if you’re not part of them, her brain seemed to tell her. But one of the side-effects from thinking like this was that now she felt like she didn’t fit in anywhere, or at least, that is was safer not to belong.

Still, she was a part of the med bay staff and she was loyal to them. The Rebellion in general may not have been her top priority, but she cared about her friends and if the cause was important to them, it would be important to her as well. And she knew that in this case they would take her side, even if she was pretty sure no one would ask them.

She also knew that Doctor Crane would speak in her favour, no doubt about that, and his voice actually mattered. Maybe Mon Mothma would be on her side. On the few occasions they met she had been friendly, but Cora could never tell what the woman was thinking. Still, she hoped she and Bail Organa would be her allies, since they both seemed rather reasonable, and Cora never felt any sort of animosity from him. She figured Cassian would be on her side as well, but since he wasn’t part of the council, she didn’t know how much his opinions mattered.

It was funny how much things had changed between them. A few months back she considered him to be her number one enemy, but right now he was… well, something else. She wondered if they’d value his opinion less in this case if the council knew, especially Draven, that they had been a little more than friendly on certain occasions.

She knew it didn’t matter that much, even though she sometimes hoped it did. Cassian seemed like the kind of person that wasn’t that easy to influence, whether you were trying to threaten him or butter him up. Besides, she wasn’t the first one he fucked, and she won’t be the last. Something as trivial as this would never change his opinion on someone, and they probably knew that.

“Cora!”

She jumped, nearly dropping her coffee cup on the floor when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Cassian, scare me like that again and I’m locking you up in the recovery ward for a month,” she threatened, unceremoniously shoving his hand off her shoulder.

“I tried knocking and calling your name a couple of times, but you didn’t answer,” he said, and Cora instantly regretted yelling at him.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, looking down, embarrassed by her moodiness. “I was just a little distracted. Shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“You’re becoming mellow, Doctor. I remembered you being a lot more feisty,” he joked, and Cora felt once again the urge to punch him.

“Don’t tempt me, Andor…” she warned, pursing her lips.

“I’d love to do just that, but we have to go,” he said, the whole playful atmosphere dissolving into thin air. Anxiety took hold of Cora once again, a cold shiver starting to climb up her spine. “The council has already gathered in the War Room.”

“Did they send you to fetch me?” she asked, wondering why they didn’t just send one of the guards like they usually did when there was any administrative meeting taking place. Maybe he volunteered.

“Sort of,” he said, and it made Cora think that she had guessed right. She smiled, despite the nervousness. They didn’t let him leave the base after he recklessly landed in the middle of the storm, so Cora had gotten quite used to seeing him around in the past few days.

There was a small change in the way he behaved, she noticed. He was a little more friendly towards her, a little more open. He would sometimes stop and ask how her day was going if they bumped into each other on the corridors and they weren’t in a rush. It was never more than a few words, and it was a lot less than the usual interactions between Cora and most of her friends and acquaintances, but it was a pleasant change from just ‘hello’ and nothing more. It made her think that she now belonged to the select few people that he had more than just a professional work relationship with. And that made her happy.

“You look a little pale,” he said once they left the med bay. The corridors weren’t as crowded as they normally were, and Cora assumed everyone was busy in the hangar below.

“I’m a little stressed,” she admitted. There was no point in lying just so she would seem cooler, because she was sure Cassian never once considered her to be cool. So she chose to be honest about her turmoil.

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” he told her in a reassuring tone, but it did nothing to calm her nerves.

“I know,” she replied, making an effort to stop her hands from nervously playing with the hem of her tunic. “The logical part of my brain knows that, but for some reason, the other part of it has decided to panic. And guess which one is winning,” she whined, her heart beating faster than it was comfortable.

Cassian chuckled and they entered the elevator. As soon as the doors closed after them, her anxiety reached peak point and her breath started to hitch. Luckily, they were alone so no one saw the colour drain from her face as the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach started to grow and take over her body. Her vision turned blurry and she had to stumble forward and hold onto the elevator door for support, fighting a wave of nausea.

At first, she didn’t notice the elevator stopping, just Cassian’s arm over her stomach stopping her from collapsing on the floor. He pulled her close to his chest, letting her rest her weight on him. Cora tried calming down, telling herself that she wasn’t going to have a full blown panic attack right then. Slowly, but steadily, she managed to get her breathing under control and her vision became focused once again. The elevator doors didn’t open so she figured Cassian had stopped it between levels giving her a little time to regain her composure. She felt thankful for that.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” he cooed in her ear, his facial hair lightly grazing over her skin. “Nothing bad can happen, you’re not going back to the cell. Worst case scenario, they’ll leave the bracelets on and your life will continue like nothing had happened.”

“I know. I just don’t wanna be there,” she said, her voice faltering, but feeling a little better in Cassian’s comforting embrace. “I don’t care what they decide, just do it and send it to me in an envelope. I’m tired of people questioning my intentions and judging me for who I am. They’ve done it enough. I know they don’t trust me and I don’t care, just leave me alone. I’m tired of interrogations.” She sighed and looked at the floor. “I’m tired.”

“They’re not going to interrogate you,” he tried reassuring her but he sounded a little doubtful and Cora could feel it. “It’s probably already decided. There’s not going to be any questioning.” She placed her hand over his and intertwined their fingers. He had lied when he said that his hands were always cold, because right now she could feel his warmth in the palm of her hand.  

“Then they should just leave me alone,” she said and turned her head a little to take a better look at Cassian. This was the closest they’d been since their time on his ship, if she didn’t count the time when she got scared in the warehouse and latched onto him, so Cora allowed herself to just melt into his frame. She should be ashamed for having a meltdown in front of him, she thought, but right now she didn’t care. She could force herself to be strong, brush him off, but truth be told, she needed the emotional support. She’d been alone for so long and lately she felt lonelier than ever. And if this stolen embrace in an empty elevator made her feel better she didn’t care if she appeared weak or needy in his eyes. So she leaned her forehead on his cheek, taking in the familiar feeling of his stubble scratching her skin. After all, he’d seen worse meltdowns from her and didn’t run away screaming. “Can’t we just… not go?” she pleaded.

“I’m afraid not,” he said, and seemed genuinely sorry. Cora knew this would be the answer, but she had to try. There was a tiny part of her that hoped Cassian would save her, the same part that had trusted Cassian so long ago to take her away from the Empire. “But I will be there with you and if you want to leave, just give me a sign and I will take you out.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, and wondered if he’d actually do it. It would be so funny seeing him tell them to fuck off and just grab her hand and run. Unrealistic, but funny and for a moment she wished he’d really do it. It would make her feel like she was just as important to him as he was to her.

Cora knew that time was ticking and even though she would have loved to just stay frozen in that moment, they’d eventually have to get going. She shifted a little in his embrace and felt his grip on her loosening. Still, she didn’t let go of his hand, and he didn’t seem to want to wiggle free either. She inched closer to him, letting her lips brush over his jaw, a ghost light touch that held in itself all of her longing. She felt him shiver and move to meet her lips, his breath warm on her skin, his scent subtle and familiar and so intoxicating. But then he changed his mind, and placed a kiss on her temple, right above her eyebrow.

Cora smiled, as his lips lingered on her skin a little too long. She let go of his hand and pressed a button putting the elevator in motion once again. “We should get going,” she said, breaking the spell.

Cassian let go of her and straightened his posture, becoming Captain Andor once again. Cora passed a hand over her tunic, straightening the fabric, still feeling a tingling sensation in the place where his arm used to hold her. She wondered, as the elevator came to a halt, if rejection would always taste this bitter.

A quick peck on the tip of her ear, right before the doors opened, was something she would have never expected from Cassian, not in a million years. She covered her ear with her hand, throwing him a bewildered look. How? And why? He looked pretty relaxed, save for the tiniest, smuggest, grin in the corner of his mouth and Cora felt she urge to elbow him in the ribs. Luckily for him, the doors opened and they were once again in public, so Cora made an effort to control herself.

“I see the colour has come back to your face, Doctor,” he said matter of factly, referring to the blush that had crept over her cheeks. She realized that he was just teasing her. The peck on her ear, the tense moment in the elevator, maybe she was reading a bit too much into his actions. He was just a boy, after all.

“I have to let you know, Captain, that I have a scalpel in my pocket and I’m not afraid to use it.”

His face broke into a smile for just a fraction of a second, before going back to his normal, serious look. “I wouldn’t advise you to do that just before your hearing,” he said in a very professional tone.

“If they know you half as well as I do, I think they’d be grateful. I may even get a medal.”

He smiled. “They don’t know me as well as you do,” he assured her in a very neutral tone, but the playful glint in his eyes made her think she knew exactly what he was referring to.

“Oh, I really hope they don’t, because otherwise I’d really have to question your taste in men…”

He smiled for a brief second, then his poker face was back on, like nothing had happened. Like he didn’t comfort and tease her in the elevator, like he didn’t break her heart and give her hope once again, all in the span of five minutes.

The War Room was just as she remembered it: full of people and holograms of maps and diagrams she didn’t understand. It was where they held the council meetings and the strategy planning and whatever the Rebellion did and she wasn’t allowed to know. They still treated her as a potential spy, so she had no idea what the Rebellion did to fight the Empire. But it didn’t bother her, after all she was used to being a simple pawn in a game of chess she didn’t understand nor cared about. She had always done her job quietly, letting others to decide the direction in which things advanced. And she liked it that way. You’d think that the daughter of an Admiral would have bigger political ambitions, but to Cora being self sufficient was enough.

She took a seat at a table in the middle of the room, exactly under the spotlight. The council was gathered around her, some seated, some standing, she noticed. The setting was familiar, she had been brought in front of them when they asked her to work in the med bay. A lot of things had changed since then, but Cora was still quite apprehensive.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Senator Bail Organa greeted her, his smiling face one of the few friendly ones in a sea of frowns. This didn’t look too good for Cora.

“Good morning,” she replied, flashing the most sincere smile she was capable of. The nervousness was back, but thanks to Cassian she wasn’t on the brink of a panic attack anymore.

She scanned the room before the inevitable questioning. There were some friendly faces, she noticed once again: Bail Organa, Doctor Crane, even Mon Mothma had a reserved smile on her face. General Draven on the other hand had a frown so deep Cora thought it could very well rival the deepest canyon. Most of the other members of the council didn’t seem so outwardly hostile and showed a little more restraint. But that didn’t make her feel any better; for all she knew, they could still be against her.

“I see you’ve gotten accustomed to our med bay quite easily,” the senator said, coming closer to where she was seated. “I am pleased to tell you that your reviews have been very good, both from your fellow colleagues and from your patients.”

Cora imagined them handing out surveys to everyone on base: ‘How would you rate Doctor Enoch’s performance, on a scale from 1 to 5.’ She was pretty sure she’d get a 2 from Cassian, if they caught him in a particularly good mood. But no matter how funny it seemed to her, it meant that they were keeping a close eye on her.

“Thank you Sir, I’m doing my best,” she replied almost automatically. So many years in the army left her with some automatisms.

He seemed a little amused by her rigid reply. “You’ve also taken over some administrative tasks, I am told.” Cora nodded. “And you’ve been on two off-world missions already,” he said, almost nonchalantly, but Cora could see him examining her attentively. “Tell me, Cora - I can call you Cora, can’t I - how have you adjusted to living on our base? Have you made any friends?”

Cora smiled. She was sure they already knew who she had made friends with, exactly when she met them and where and what they did when they hung out, so she wondered what the point was. Were they just making small talk or did they want to see if she was being honest? Either way her first reaction was to tell them to cut the crap and just get to the point because she didn’t have all day, but she realized that this wasn’t the most tactful thing to do. She was at their mercy after all, and if this was the game they wanted to play, she had to play along.

“Yes,” she said, returning his smile. “I’ve made a few friends. Mainly among my colleagues, but I know a lot of people on base. As for living on Yavin, I think the climate’s the hardest to get used to,” she said, and heard a few murmurs of approval in the room.

“You’ve also experienced your first storm…”

Cassian flashed through her mind the moment he mentioned the storm, their time alone in the storage warehouse still fresh in her memory. She did her best to only search for him in the crowd with the corner of her eye, as to not attract too much attention. He was standing on the far side, partially obscured by some of the equipment in the room, and watched quietly.

“Not a great experience, but I like to think I can survive worse.”

“Speaking of surviving, you’ve crossed paths with a pirate ship and an imperial invasion and lived to tell the tale.”

“I think my partners should be thanked for that, since without them I’d certainly be dead,” she admitted.

“The Rebellion is all about teamwork,” he said, “no one expects you to fight on your own.”

Until they do, Cora thought, but she didn’t say anything. In the imperial army you were just one of the many soldiers, no names just identification numbers, but the Alliance was way smaller. From what she’d seen, everyone was doing much more than what they were supposed to do, so she assumed that one day someone would put a blaster in her hand and tell her to go fight the Empire alone. It seemed, to her at least, that that was what they constantly did to Cassian.

“But you did well in those two missions,” he continued. “And that certainly means a lot to us. But, to be frank with you,” (here we go, she thought), “some members of the council are still have some doubts regarding your loyalty.”

“Well then, let me be frank too, Senator,” she said, feeling a tinge of annoyance even though she had been expecting it. “There will always be some people that will question my loyalty, and this has nothing to do with what I do, and everything to do with who I am. I am the daughter of Admiral Enoch, and this outweighs anything I might do, in the eyes of some.” She looked around the room, making sure to linger a little on Draven’s unpleasant expression. “I have a cleaner record than a lot of people on base, and I’m still judged more harshly than any of them.”

“They’ve proven their loyalty to the cause,” Draven muttered, his tone just as unpleasant as his face.

“And I haven’t? I nearly died on two off-world missions. That wasn’t part of the deal I made with you.”

“That was yo…”

“That was my fault how exactly, General?” she raised her tone, feeling increasingly annoyed. “Listen... You’ve already jailed me for who I am, and I’m not going to linger in the past, what’s done is done and can’t be changed. I’m just asking you all to judge me for my actions, just like you do with everyone else, and not by my heritage. Because you can’t chose your parents, but you can chose the path you walk.”

It was silent for a moment, but Cora could see Draven getting ready to throw some more shit at her. After all, he had just started, and he was always pretty vocal during her past interrogations, seeming to take pleasure in accusing her of more than she could have physically done in one lifetime. However, a sharp look from Bail Organa silenced him for the time being.

“And what is your path, Doctor?” Mon Mothma asked.

Cora took a deep breath. If she knew that her freedom would one day depend on her ability to convince a room full of constipated senators, she would have paid a lot more attention in rhetorics class.

“As Senator Organa once said, the only way for me to live a peaceful life is if the Empire is no more,” she said, trying to sound as sincere and as convincing as she could. “I am a traitor to the Empire. I have nowhere to go back to, so I can only move forward. Right now, the Rebellions seems like the only solution for me. And I know I may sound a little selfish when I say that, since I should be thinking about the greater good and saving the Galaxy, but I am a simple person, I’m not a hero who’s going to sacrifice their life for total strangers. But if this is going to bring peace for me and my friends I will gladly follow.”

“Would you sacrifice your life for the friends you’ve made among us?” Senator Organa asked.

Cora never thought about that. Not that she didn’t know in the back of her mind that it was a possibility, she often had nightmares in which everyone she knew died and she was helpless, but she never thought that one day their life may depend on her. Since they were a million times more prepared for war than she was, she always assumed that if they would ever be in mortal peril she’d already be dead. That one day their life would depend on whether she’d act or not was a new and scary thought. Her first reaction was ‘I’m not qualified to handle this’.

“I’d rather not have to sacrifice my life in any circumstance,” she replied honestly, her eyes involuntarily drifting towards Cassian, “but if it were for my friends’ sake, I’d like to think I would be able to do it.”

“So what you’re saying,” Draven opened his mouth and Cora was already expecting the worst, “is that we can only count on your loyalty if your friends are in the game. I’m afraid this fight isn’t just about you and your friends and if we can’t count on you regardless of this, then there is no point in placing any trust in you.”

“General, I think you are misinterpreting my words,” Cora said through gritted teeth, trying very hard to control herself and not tell him to go back where he came from. “Would you have liked my speech better if I fed you pompous lines without substance about the greater good and the sake of humanity as an abstract notion? I am sorry that you think that because I have a more personal approach to this, just like, let’s say, 90% of the people on base, that I am less trustworthy. Almost all of them joined for their own sake or for that of their loved ones, so did you ever question their motives and resolve?”

“They’ve all sacrificed something to get here.”

“I’ve sacrificed everything I had. I had a safe, comfortable life and now I have nothing. Nothing!” she almost yelled, her voice reverberating in the silent room. “It would have been so easy to hand Cassian over to the stormtroopers and earn a shiny medal for it. But I didn’t do it. And honestly, the way you repaid me for it made me wonder if I had made the right choice.” She took a moment to regain her composure. “But you know what? I’d do it again. If I had the choice, I’d do it again. Because I know I don’t belong in the Empire. And if you think I don’t belong here either, then you may be right. I’m certainly not the greatest soldier and I’m not as valuable to the Cause as most people here, but I do my job and I would never betray the Alliance.”

“You betrayed the Empire, why wouldn't you betray the Alliance just as easily?” asked a tall, slender man with a foreign accent.

“Because the Empire has hurt me. It’s a personal vendetta. To see it fall would make me happy. The Rebellion hasn’t hurt me like that yet,” she said, subtly emphasizing the word ‘yet’, keeping her gaze fixed on the tall man. He seemed a little uncomfortable, so she stared at him some more.

Senator Organa cleared his throat, interrupting her staring contest and shifting the focus of the room towards himself once again. “During the past couple of days there have been a few debates on whether or not to remove your bracelets,” he said. “In the meantime we’ve assessed your progress, gotten statements from the people that have interacted most with you. We’ve gotten a pretty good idea of who you are.”

It sounded like a thinly veiled threat. Cora knew she had done nothing wrong, but still she felt like they had found out all of her deepest, darkest secrets. It made her feel like maybe she was guilty of something, she just didn’t know it yet. Maybe they knew she had stolen the cushion.

“We’ve held a vote,” he continued, “and eventually made a decision.”

So Cassian had been right, it was already decided. Then why did they summon her here? What was the point of the whole questioning? They could have just told her the result of the vote and let her go back to work instead of putting her under the spotlight. She speculated that they either did it just for show or the vote had been a tie and they needed something more to help them deliberate, but she wouldn't know for sure unless they told her. Nonetheless, she still felt irritated that they had dragged her there.

Mon Mothma left her place at the edge of the crowd and approached her, as elegant and poised as always. Cora couldn’t help but admire her: she was exactly what the years in boarding school could never mould her into. Beautiful, classy and scary.

“The council has decided to remove your bracelets,” she said, without further ado. “But there are some conditions.” Of course there would be some conditions, Cora never assumed they’d just set her free and wave her goodbye, so she nodded and motioned for her to continue. “You will be fitted a tracker bracelet instead of your cuffs. It doesn’t actively track your whereabouts, but in case you disappear or leave the base without notice it will send us your coordinates.”

“Right… so I’m still a prisoner,” Cora said, crossing her arms and leaning back into the chair, a defiant expression on her face.

“It’s just a precaution, Cora. And it’s a temporary measure,” Bail Organa assured her, but Cora frowned anyway.

“Until when? Since I’ve given you no reason to suspect me, and you still don’t trust me, how can I believe when you tell me that it’s just temporary?” she raised her voice again, almost getting up the chair.

“You have to understand, Doctor Enoch,” one of the older councilmen said, “that the Alliance is a fragile thing. We can’t afford to take any risks right now.”

“Right,” Cora muttered, collapsing back into her chair. She really wanted to tell them she isn’t a time bomb that they have to keep a close eye on, but she held her mouth shut and asked Mon Mothma to continue.

“You will have to get permission and be accompanied by an officer if you ever want to leave the base.”

“What if I just want to leave?” Cora asked, her face devoid of any emotion. She wondered if they’d change their mind if she kept interrupting them. Draven was already starting to change colour.

“I am sorry, that’s not an option right now.”

“I see,” Cora hissed. “Is there anything else?”

“You still won’t be allowed to access the databases or shove your nose into any Rebellion business,” Draven intervened, his interruption just as pleasant and needed as a bunch of warts. “Or contact anyone outside the base.”

Cora suddenly felt the urge to send the Emperor a birthday card, just to spite the general. However, she smiled, and looked again at Mon Mothma who had resumed explaining the conditions to her. It wasn’t that bad, she kept repeating herself as every condition made the frown on her forehead grow a little deeper. Remember where you started from and where you are now, huge difference. But every condition, every restriction they imposed cemented the idea that they didn’t want her there, that she didn’t belong.

“Do you agree to respect these conditions?” Mon Mothma finally asked. Cora was already spacing out and this suddenly brought her back.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, with a half smile.

“There is always a choice, Cora,” said Senator Organa, a friendly smile on his face.

“Well, not much of a choice when you have to chose between a leash and a cage,” she snorted. “But I accept,” she said. “Gimme the leash, take me for a walk. Do I have to sign anything?”

“No,” said Mon Mothma, seemingly a little displeased by her attitude, “your word in front of the council will be enough.”

“I would like to hereby thank the high council for their generosity,” she said, in a slightly mocking tone, just enough to raise some eyebrows, but not enough to be outright rude. “Thank you so much.”

The meeting ended and everyone scrambled to get out of the room as fast as possible. How rude, she thought, when none of them stayed back to congratulate her, except for Doctor Crane, who also told her that her mouth would get her in trouble one day. Where’s the news, Doc?

Mon Mothma and Bail Organa stayed back too and explained to her a few more details. Cora was a lot less rude towards them now that they didn’t have an audience anymore. She didn’t dislike these people, she just disliked the situation she had been put in, so now that the whole debacle had ended and she had calmed down a little, she went back to being as nice as she could be.

Before she left, she noticed that Cassian had also stayed behind, talking to Draven in a corner. She wondered if they were talking about her; after all, she had been the main event of the day. From the frowns on both of their faces, she could very well be right.

She decided against hurrying back to the med bay, instead she walked as slowly as possible, hoping to see Cassian maybe even for a minute after he got rid of Draven. However, her plan was foiled when an overly enthusiastic Lewella emerged from the crowd, holding two shaved ice cones.

“How’d it go?” she asked, showing one cone in Cora’s hand.

“Ok I guess. They’ll swap the cuffs for a tracker bracelet,” she said, her tone showing her disappointment.

“That’s not so bad,” Lewella tried encouraging her. “I have one too.” She lifted her sleeve to show her.

“Why?”

“Because I once got so drunk I woke up on another planet. They decided they wouldn’t risk losing me once again. And honestly it saved my life twice since then, once when our ship got hijacked and once when we lost control during a storm. It’s not so bad. Eat your ice, it’s getting messy.”

Cora took a tentative bite and was taken aback by the pungent taste. “Is this…”

“Corellian Brandy, yeah!” Lewella seemed very proud of it, but Cora just raised an eyebrow. She should have expected it to be something more than just plain, flavoured ice if it came from Lewella’s hands. It could have been worse, she thought as she took another bite.

“It’s just that...” Cora’s voice faltered and she looked at her feet. “I guessed they’d trust me more after all this time.”

“Baby steps, Cora. You know how slow these sorts of institutions work and how slow they can be at times. If it were only Mothma’s decision, you would have been free a long time ago,” Lewella said, patting her shoulder. “It’s progress. Remember how far you’ve come. Now you’re here, you’re alive and well, so you can wait.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cora said, absentmindedly.

“When are they taking them off?”

“My shift ends in a few hours, I have to look for Draven then and he’ll take care of them.” Having to meet Draven and interact with him twice in one day was annoying to say the least.

“Awesome! We’ll meet tonight for some celebratory drinks in the dungeons. A ‘getting a little more out of jail’ party.”

Cora snorted. “Thanks, but I’d rather sleep early tonight. I’m covering Alara’s shift tomorrow.”

“Nonsense. I’ve already sent out the invitations, you’re not allowed to miss your own party.”

“You didn’t even know there was going to be something to celebrate and you already organized a party?”

“It could have been just one of two things: good news and we celebrate or bad news and you’d need to drown your sorrows, either way both involved alcohol so why not set it up in advance?”

Cora raised an eyebrow. That was some strong logic, she had to admit.

“Stop trying to come up with excuses. You’re coming and that’s final.” Cora stubbornly shook her head.

“Coming where?” Cassian asked, suddenly appearing next to them.

“Super secret meeting in the dungeons today. We’re celebrating.”

“Ok,” he said, like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Are they sending you back?” Lewella asked, and Cora’s heart skipped a beat. She somehow overlooked the fact that now that the storm had ended he would probably be sent away ASAP. She realized that he would be gone once again and felt incredibly dejected.

“Yeah,” he replied, crushing any semblance of a good mood Cora might have still had left. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, good,” Lewella said, and Cora wanted to say that there’s nothing good about it. “It would have been shit if you had to leave today and miss the party. Now you can convince Cora to come too, since she’s decided to be stubborn and skip her own celebration.”

Cassian threw her a disbelieving look and Cora defensively crossed her arms. “Don’t you want to celebrate your victory?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Not much of a victory,” Cora mumbled, but she felt her resolve weakening. Now that she knew he was going to leave in the morning she really wanted to spend a little more time with him, even if that meant going to a party and having to be sociable instead of sleeping.

“You may not see it like that, but I know these people, you won this battle. And you were great in there,” he said, and Cora really wanted to believe him, but she knew that she didn’t handle the situation very well. She had lost her temper and yelled at people, and if it weren’t already decided she was pretty sure she could have never convinced them to set her free. But it was over, it was done, no reason to dwell on it any longer.

“Besides,” he continued, “I still have to teach you how to play Sabacc.”

“Yeah, we have to teach you so I can kick your ass!” Lewella’s face showed so much joy Cora had to wonder where she had that much positive energy from.

“You guys know Sabacc isn’t very high on the list of things I want to learn in the near future…” she tried arguing.

“Bullshit!”

“If you still want to extort money from me,” Cassian suggested, “at least do it in a civilized manner.”

“Blackmail is a very civilized manner, and much closer to my MO than gambling,” she said, shoving a finger in his face.

“As you wish, Doctor,” he laughed. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, before disappearing into the crowd.

Cora followed his retreating frame for as long as she could. She felt drained of energy already and the day wasn’t over yet. There were still a few hours left of her shift and then a meeting with Draven. And later, the party she really didn’t want to attend. But Cassian was leaving once again, and a brief embrace and a chaste kiss didn’t really fulfill her need for him. So she’d go, spend as much time as she could with him. So when he was gone, she’d ache a little more.

“Do you have dirt on Cassian?” Lewella suddenly asked.

“Maybe?”

“Whatever he’s paying, I’m paying double.”

Previous chapter

Masterlist

#cassian andor #cassian andor x ofc #cassian andor x original female character #rogue one #star wars #starlight

[mediocremountaineer]

The shivling climb

radio static, cant get through to no one, it is 3 July, weathers still playing truant. Had snowfall all night and its still clearing in patches yet raining, manoj feels we need to give it two days thendup feels we need to give it one. its been 7 days of bad weather. 2 July, a best friend's Birthday, but I'm on the mountain. The weather cleared briefly at 5 am  and I could get some good pictures but now it's fogged up again at 7. It might make sense to move to camp 2 tomorrow or day after, Swamy's making the move today. Weather is holding out beautifully so far. It's 1019-now. It's 1416 and pouring the skies out. 1619 Still pitter patter rain, the continuing sound of avalanches and rockfalls all around us, though camp 1 is on a ridge and kind of insulated from direct onslaught of rock, ice or snow. The violence with which nature built the Himalayas is brain numbing. 
these are the notes of my diary that i refer to, today, as i sit down to pen the challenge we threw ourselves to go adventure into the mighty himalayas yet again. 

the mountain of our choice is called shivling and its nestled deep in the heart of uttarakhand, one has to strike base at uttarkashi, this is the last place supplies are possible to secure. then, travel further to gangotri, the air gets thinner as one starts to ascend and on reaching gangotri approx 3200 mtrs the shortness in ones breath is somewhat palpable, but this is the himalaya and one thing forgiving about being at lower latitudes is that there’s tree cover all the way upto 5000 mtrs in places, which means richer air and more oxygen to breathe as trees respire and we have it easier. 

we chose shivling for that challenge that it presents, and how its tested us is the story we will live to tell for many many years. 

shivling has several exposed faces and each presents a bigger quandary than the other, we are choosing to stick to the conventional route, yet here too it would mean roping up approximately 2 kilometres of the mountain, a formidable challenge. Thendup our lead sherpa has climbed the mountain thrice, he set’s himself about trying to measure up the job at hand. we are five of us, manoj a seasoned climber in the himalayas with several summits to his credit is on the job leading the charge. swamy my mate out of solo climbs in aconcagua and denali, pritam a rookie climber from bangalore but with excellent fitness levels and Jitu a paratrooper, ex airforce officer and my diving buddy. 
organising an effort as monumental as this needs visioning things a little differently. it helps to have people who understand all the effort going in to what we know as becoming the mountain as also, to contribute wherever we fall short in every which way. 

we reach gangotri on the 18th, buy everybody lunch as everybody has just arrived and begin to pack the loads for the porters to carry until base camp also known as tapovan at 4100 meters. on 19th manoj, the sherpas, 9 in the team, 2 cooks and a runner, the porters 35 of them with almost 700 kilos of load distributed among everybody. leave for tapovan. 

a day later. some porters decide to bolt on reaching the glacier after gaumukh, the origin of the ganges. i wouldn't blame them totally, but they shouldn't have taken on something they were well, not prepared for. gangotri and bhagirathi glacier. the route to tapovan. its a huge minefield of lateral moraine. until the eye can see, the glacier is a huge moving river of ice, snow, sand, rocks and large boulders the size of buildings. a wrong step can mean certain injury, with some possibility, death. exposed ridges where bottomless crevasses yawn and creak underfoot. fast flowing ice cold water, tears into the seams of the loose soil and snow. the fear multiplies, faced with this and then the climb over the looming steep cliffs overhanging from tapovan. some get cold feet. before reaching the meadow bugyal and safety. they dumped their loads in piecemeal, fear got the better of them. some did it on the gangotri glacier, some on the waterfall leading to tapovan and scurried off. the mountain has begun testing us. one among them, leaves a can of kerosene on the jagged edge of the waterfall, imagine the pollution it would cause were it to tip. but, such are the vagaries of mountaineering in india. manoj rallies forces and gets the balance folk to turnaround and go back to the debris plain of the waterfall and the glacier. he picks up the leftover loads and then chooses to move all loads found minus 9 porter hands who have bolted, to the next camp. more risk and exposure but what are you to do, the mountain demands it from you. you acquiesce. 

missing porters, mean approximately 300 kilos of load, most of it food and fuel, including a gas cylinder get left over at the base camp in tapovan. they pitch a tent, make stashes of the loads, 100 kilos of grain, flour, fuel and the gas cylinder, fresh fruit and vegetables. all of which gets left back at base camp. everybody moves to the next camp, but more surprises are in store. the porters are supposed to place all their loads in the next camp across the glacier on the ridge of the mountain also known as camp 1 but choose to dump all their loads 2 hours onto the route and take off back to gangotri. they follow their brothers in being cowards, they who have set low benchmarks for everybody. arguments follow, but since the standards set are as low as not even reaching base camp, (tapovan) in the first place. Escape is better than exposure. victory was never going to be the consideration, a paid mercenary after all fights for himself first, over any other cause. 

The daunting lateral moraine plains and glaciers haven't been covered yet, we are on the mountain but we aren't on the ridge leading to the summit camp. from there, is where we have 2 kilometres of rope to fix. but well, the mountain tests us again. manoj, pritam and the sherpas are forced to accept the raw deal dished out to them. they make peace with the circumstances being what they are. so, with half the load at tapovan and another half, an hour above, its now implied the sherpa teams and the climbers will have to pull what they can to make the move from the glacier field to camp 1. the good part is the weather has been on our side so far and we have resources aplenty to last us a really long while. even if we were to remain stranded here for months, we would survive. we are armed to the teeth with gear, ropes, food, tents and fuel. there’s no stopping us but in mountaineering they say, always expect the unexpected. the porters did the number this time on us. This, after they were paid heavily in advance with the expectation that they would see us through to the beginning of the place where we hang from ropes as we jumar our way upwards. perhaps, a miracle is yet to happen.

7 porters choose to remain and make the effort to see the team onto camp 1, with what load they were supposed to ferry for one trip. whatever that means. the sherpas, manoj and pritam run load ferries and while we (swamy, me and jitu) reach tapovan camp around the 21st. they have moved a sizeable load of gear up to camp 1. especially, the rope. 

those porters leave too and when we reach we find base camp fully stocked but empty. 

a horror story of how things aren't unfolding the way they should isn't told, while a slight cold mountain drizzle signals that we may well be running out of the best weather we have had in days and days. we exchange quizzical glances and know we have to keep on climbing. after all, a mountain is only worth what the climb is or becomes.

one of the cooks remains with me at base camp and on my part i organise another 10 hands as we luck out, an NCC expedition to baby shivling is in the neighbourhood and us feeding their porters dinner and breakfast gets them warm and willing to help us move more load upstairs to the interim camp. more money gets spent but hey whoever said climbing shivling was going to be easy. the zen you realise on the mountain is the zen you carry in your head but climbing the mountain, getting there, aint exactly cheap.

after several tests of fortitude, we move the gas cylinder and several essentials upto interim camp, while we watch the rain and the weather get the better of fresh fruits and vegetables, eventually we feed the fresh food and fruit to the birds as letting it spoil would be allowing for a criminal waste of resources. we let the birds feed on that which the humans cant afford to carry. e e cummings comes to mind - nothing we can perceive in this world equals the fragility of life, in all its forms, rendering death and forever in each breath. now we are alive, now we are not. climb on climb on… 
 a long effort and two more spells of carries later, we find ourselves all together at interim camp. its 24 June, manoj and pritam are making the move to camp 1. the rain begins to fall. its slowly taking over the mountain and the visibility is almost next to nothing. 25th we stay put watching the rain. we call off moving on the 26th too.

a day in the rain later it seems like its clearing up somewhat and we make the move to camp one on the day that follows. 27 July, we are carrying with us fresh vegetables, essentials and more goodies such as chocolates, summit food and more gear. everybody is in good spirits as communication links are up and running, throughout the mountain and everybody is well fed, rested, acclimatised and strong for climbing. swamy’s oxidation readings are still a worry but i’m guessing he will be ok soon. 

we reach camp one as Manoj, Pritam and the sherpas make a bid for camp 2 on the summit ridge. the next camp, camp 3 will be below the hanging glacier and then once we fix rope up throughout the route, we will make a summit attempt weather permitting. 

life looks like its finally begun to turn our way and thats when the weather turns yet again. its pouring down in sheets now. and suddenly our life just shuts very beautifully as the skies begin to descend snow on us. one has to set out carefully now as the snow has formed bridges between rocks everywhere and its risky and beautiful in its starkness. 

swamy has gone down to interim camp, to acclimatise some more, he makes it back on the 28th, its a white out and visibility conditions are next to zero. we are worried as one wrong step and its ashes. swamy makes it to camp to everybody's relief. he follows this up with several repeat instances, but i guess i’ll leave that for a ‘swam-specific’ story another day. 

As we keep getting hammered by bad weather, people are making their smaller and ever smaller bids to traverse up further from where they are. swamy has tried once to crawl up to camp 2 and come back. he loses his way back and we illuminate our tents to have him use us as a beacon to find his way back down the treacherous slopes back to camp 1. Manoj tries to climb up to camp 3 with loads, Pritam makes an attempt to follow, the rope however hasn't been fixed and their effort is short-lived. they have to wait patiently while the rope gets fixed by the sherpas and exposure reduces.

Thendup comes down to visit me in camp 1 on 1st July. he doesn't bring good tidings. he says the hanging glacier is falling apart. we might not be able to fix rope on that. The mountain seems angrier than us. true to his word, there is an avalanche that night and a large part of the glacier cracks and rolls down the cliff side. safely we are out of the line of the falling glaciers fury. we creep out of our tents in the small hours of the inky black night with the snow carefully descending around us. we watch the glacier crash down the mountain slopes, in swathes of avalanches. we bear mute testimony to the tests the mountain subjects us to. what are we to do, we don't know up from down anymore. it refuses to stop snowing, raining and avalanching. where are we, who are we, what are we doing here ?

swamy sets fire to the rain and chooses to keep on climbing, manoj and pritam do the same. they keep going onwards to camp 3. miraculously the weather clears. it makes me feel like i’m making a mistake by choosing to go downwards as I don't want Jitu to feel alone, he has had it really hard poor chap. its his first duel with such bad weather and staying stuck in a tent for weeks at a go. its a bright sunny day as we begin to walk down to the interim camp and reach there before noon, i pamper myself with a bath, a change of clothes does feel good. its the 4th of july, a nap in the warm sunshine later, the weather turns again. as i watch it pour my thoughts go out to my buddies on top. they made it to camp 3 ok, but then they saw a huge crack in the glacier, the same one i’d been observing from camp 1. the same thing thats been avalanching ever since, its a slippery slope and an even more broken mountain. as they are piecing together a strategy, we try to touch the shaking rock around us to make us feel whole and rooted. 

on 5 july, we all realise we couldn't have done any better, this far and no further. thats all the mountain is going to allow. manoj, swamy, pritam and the sherpa team begin to descend and unroping the mountain begins in earnest. i am left with the responsibility of going back down the mountain and ferrying back porters so that the logistics of support on the way back is sorted to the degree of no failure. after all its not the same thing now. the games over.

we are responsible mountaineers and we must clear the mountain of all our remains. theres always a side to the mountain that one never knows about, its a game after all and its a game in which mother nature always wins. all the things we ask of ourselves fall short of what we think we could do but weren't good enough to deliver. finally the skies fall again upon us and the pitter patter of the constant showers are back again. its the 6th of july and we have reached cheerbasa half way to gangotri. its dark again and i’m finished with my effort at making the mountain meld to my ways. its so damn hard to have given so much of ourselves and yet have that feeling that we couldn't really get anywhere. the tears begin to flow and no not even the rain has such small hands. the emotions pass and i gather myself for the walk and reorganisation ahead of me. 

we reached gangotri the next day, on the 7th. manoj, swamy and pritam reach on 10th July. what a run we’ve had. what an adventure and thankfully we are all alive to tell the story. another story of our lives. another helluva climb.