#I’m getting those weird anxiety spikes again…

[journcys-archived]

.

[fushitoru]

WE'RE COOL FOR THE SUMMER !

PAIRING: beach boy!gojo x reader SUMMARY: on your way to meet your girlfriends on your summer vacay, you encounter an unforeseen obstacle: parallel parking. It’s good you have a hot beach boy ready to help you park! maybe you’ll give him a kiss or a bj or two to thank him for his effort… WARNINGS: minors dni, fluff, smut, oral (m receiving), meet cute, not beta read at all, first fic kinda nervous

“I really don’t think I’m going to make that…” you mutter to yourself, frantically checking the distance from the car already stationed behind you as you back up. Your anxiety spikes as you keep glancing at the road ahead to see if there were any impending cars. If there are any cars that come while I’m struggling through this parallel parking, I might as well kill myself. That might be faster for both of us.

You bite your lip in frustration as you try a combination of backing up, turning the wheel, going forward, and turning the wheel again, concentrated on inching your way into the tight parking space. After being in the state of half being inside the parking space and half out, you take a break to bang your head against the wheel, cursing Shoko for leaving you alone when she insisted on catching up with you at the hotel when she saw a pizza place she’s wanted to go to. The Hawaiian pizza she abandoned you for better be really fucking good.

As you ready for yourself to struggle through finishing parking properly, your soul almost leaves your body as you hear an assertive knock against your window. You pinch your eyes for a bit, steeling yourself for the mortification you’re about to bear, and then turn. Your eyes widen.

Looking at you through your window was a tall man, hunched over with an amused smile. He had blue eyes and white hair---hair you would’ve normally thought looked weird on people because you refused to dye yours with anything but naturally occurring colors, but it just worked on him. Without making him look like he was a weird otaku cosplaying an anime character.

Needless to say, you’re nervous and feel your face burning up as you roll down your window. “Hi, I know that I’m taking up a lot of space, but I’m just struggling through parking this right now. I’m really sorry. They did not teach this to me in driver’s ed---”

“Hey, hey. Calm down. You’re okay,” he chuckled. Wow, his voice was deep. Not crazy deep that he sounded like those TikTok guys straining their voice for their thirst traps or anything, but enough to definitely be deemed a panty wetter. “I’m Satoru. Let me park your car for you.”

Oh. Well, that was helpful. Kind of overwhelmed, you choke out a “oh, thank you” and get out of the car. As soon as you open your door, you blush at the rest of Satoru----he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt in the sluttiest way possible with some shorts. You covered your nose in case you got a nosebleed at the sight of his shirt open, glistening abs on full display.

As he got in, you awkwardly stood by his car, parked perfectly behind you. You gaped as he effortlessly got your car out of the weird orientation you had put it in and parked it, a perfect distance between the cars surrounding it.

He shifted the gears to park it and got out of the car, walking up to you. “So…what’s a girl like you doing out here?” He places his arm on top of his car, effectively caging you between his cars and his bare chest.

You cursed yourself as you began to feel yourself burning up in his oh so close gaze. “Uh, I’m here on a trip with my friends.” You were finding it hard to find a place to look at. Eye contact was impossible with piercing blue eyes looking at you, lidded, and you would probably face charges if you stole any more glances at his chest. You decided to keep looking at his biceps.

He smiled confidently. He knew he was hot, and maybe he even had pussy vision that consulted him on what to do around you because wow you sure were nervous and going crazy down there. “Where’s your boyfriend? Can’t believe he left you to park on your own, baby.”

Oh. “I don’t have one.” His gaze widened imperceptibly, and, slowly, he lowered his gaze to rake over you. Meanwhile, you were freaking out. No one this hot had ever flirted with you, except for some frat boys that were trying to get into your pants during college. You weren’t such a fan of STDs, though.

“You sure? It’s hard for me to believe a pretty girl like you isn’t cuffed up.” You would’ve scoffed at how obvious he was being, but you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. And this was your ticket out of your dry spell.

It was time to lock in.

You put a hand on his shoulder and leaned back onto his car, flashing him a smile. “You know what? I really want to…show you my gratitude. Can I give you anything?”

Suddenly, you felt his face inching closer to you. His voice was breathy when he said, “Yeah, I can think of something.” He was looking at your lips, and you could feel his breath fanning your face. Clearly waiting for your consent, you pulled him in both arms to lock your lips together.

Satoru grabbed your waist and forced his leg between your thighs. You whimpered when you felt his knee rubbing you directly on your pussy as you continued kissing him. For stability, you started dragging your hands up and down his torso, finally having an excuse to feel up his abs.

You two went back and forth for a few minutes before pulling away, panting. You faux pout, trailing your pointer finger over his chest. “You know, I don’t really think that showed enough thanks. Can I give you a little something more inside my car?” You look up at him with doe eyes only to see him with a wide gaze and blushing face. He nods, and you grab his arm to drag him into your backseat.

“Aw, give it a little kiss, baby. It’s so excited to see you,” Gojo remarks down at you, but soon afterwards groans, throwing his head back when you give his tip a little kiss. You start kissing his cock all over, making sure to look at him as he falls apart over your mouth. Fondling his balls, you give his tip gentle licks, teasing him. And it clearly agitates him---he starts thrusting up, trying to get himself inside your mouth.

“Please, baby, don’t be mean,” he whines, “Be a good girl and open your mouth.” Done teasing him, you fully envelope him in your hot mouth, bobbing your head and trying to take him in.

He hisses as soon as he feels your mouth on him and starts blabbering. “Wow, baby, your mouth is so good. So tight and hot f’ me.” Blinking away your tears, you finally take your eyes away from his dick to look up, panties immediately sullied from the sight above you: him looking down, face strained and hot from the pleasure he was receiving. His abs clenched every time you took him In further, your hot breaths through your nose fanning his pelvis.

His hand comes down, stroking your head gently as you continue taking him in your throat. “You’re thankful, baby?” You nodded. “Lemme grab your hair for a bit, I’ll feel really thanked.” You bunch your hair in a ponytail, giving him the opportunity to grab it. He does as promised; he grabs your hair by the scalp and starts moving your head over his cock, setting his own pace with your mouth.

You can tell by his ragged breaths that he’s getting close; you start gently touching his balls again, which sends him over the edge. With a choked take it, baby, he spills inside your mouth. You, of course, take it in. As soon as he’s down from being overwhelmed from his high, you open your mouth to show him the cum you have on your tongue. He groans upon the sight, and you swallow it. He pulls you up and slowly gives you kisses across your face, and you reciprocate. After another heated make out session, you exchange numbers and a goodbye kiss.

Locking your car and walking out to finally enter your hotel,  you fantasize about meeting up with him later to do more debauched things. You were really excited for this summer.

a/n I might do more parts of this if people want more! I have some other ideas for jjk men that I’ve been dying to write so I will be doing those too :3

also sorry for any mistakes it’s unedited bc I got impatient and wanted to post it

reblog and comment if u liked it!

[pelova4president]

Lovey Dovey

Jill Roord x Doctor!Reader

summary~ Jill just had her ACL surgery and is still high on the anesthesia.

Jill wasn’t a fan of surgery’s, how could anyone be. She was nervous about this whole procedure. Tearing her ACL in her prime had done a number on her, not only physically but mentally too. But the surgery had to be done and she knew that.

You’ve been dating Jill for about a year now. You met through your mutual friend, Vivianne Miedema. The first few months were long distance, with you working in England and Jill in Germany. You hadn’t really seen eachother throughout the World Cup but kept in touch, texting her good morning and goodnight and recording voice notes. And sometimes you took in into yourself to make her a vlog about your day, she liked those most.

Driving was Jill’s thing, she enjoyed it and you loved that she loved it. You had certain tasks without really agreeing on them, they had just become your unassigned jobs in your relationship. Your girlfriend was a little sceptical, letting you drive in her still quite new car.

Jill had hidden the keys to her car and you were not having it. “Jill tell me where the fucking keys are.” you sighed, having searched for it everywhere by now. She simply shook her head with a childlike frown.

You simply had no other choice than to threaten her. “Jill you better tell me where they are or i won’t kiss you until you can play full football games again.”, now that got her attention. “That’s just mean, you can’t do that to me baby” the woman groaned sinking even further into the couch.

“Watch me.” you said, arms folded under eachother. “Fine, under the blue vase in the kitchen.” she finally admitted. You leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead to thank her.

Finding the keys you sigh, “Let’s go baby.”.

The drive to the hospital was rather chaotic, well it was for you. You had to watch the road in front of you and listen to your stubborn girlfriend telling you how to drive and how she thought this was just a horrible idea, she should’ve never ‘given’ you the keys.

It was a wonder Jill was still alive after that trip, she could’ve sworn she had atleast two heart attacks and went into multiple cardiac arrests. But luckily for her a docter was driving, well lucky to some extent.

You wheeled her into the big building, you knew her anxiety was spiking but you’ve talked her through the procedure multiple times. “Jilly, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll be with you, when you go to sleep and i’ll be there when you wake up.” you said, squeezing her shoulder to reassure her.

The Dutch Lioness had to change and got ready for her surgery. With a peck to the lips she let go. “I love you” she told you. “Love you too, you’re very brave Jilly.” you kissed before she fell into a deep slumber.

Waking up from the surgery you expected her to be a bit dazed out but she was more than that.

Stroking patterns on her arms you soothed her. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, a groggy groan caught your attention. “Hey, you’re with us again. I bet you’ve had some pretty weird dreams hmm?” you said getting her to look at you.

“Why’s the light so lightly?” her raspy voice sounded. Laughing at her sleepy state you answered, “Hospital lights are supposed to be like that baby.”

Jill was taken aback by that. “Why are you calling me baby? I’ve already got a liefje.” Jill frowned. You had to hold your laugh in at that.

“Jill look at me, i’m your liefje.” she finally fully opened her eyes and took a good look at you. Satisfied she hummed, “I’ve done really good. You’re very pretty and nice and pretty.” your girlfriend slurred, dragging the ‘really’ out. “Can you do a spin for me liefje? Pretty please.” she asked you sweetly.

Standing up you did a ballerina like twirl. “Good enough for you baby?” you asked her, hand on your hip. She approved your twirl and demanded a kiss. “I want a kiss now.” you walked towards her to give in but apparently you didn’t move fast enough and she started getting out of the hospital bed.

“Jill! Stay there, you’re not supposed to be on your feet already!” you yelled a bit annoyed. She probably couldn’t stand on her leg yet and definitely not now that she was still so dazy.

Quickly she let loose of the bed railing and laid back again. “Okay okay, but i need a kiss to make it better!” she was gonna be the death of you.

You got into bed with her and almost immediately she wrapped herself around you, kissing every bit of your face. “I” kiss “love” kiss “you” kiss “so so so so” kiss “much” she snuggled into you. “Jilly, i love you too” you giggled into the crook of her neck.

The two of you got to go home after a few hours but Jill was still a bit out of it. You tried to get her to sit in the passenger seat but she wouldn’t let go of you. “Jilly, you need to let go, i can’t drive us home like this.” you told her.

And even in het dazed state she caught on to the fact you were driving her car. “You don’t need to drive us home schatje. Uber and i’ll drive it home another day.” she negotiated with you.

“Oh shut up. You’re not gonna die, you baby.” you rolled your eyes at her. Jill placed her hand over her heart and acted like she just got stabbed in it. “Big baby.” you laughed.

Arriving home she still wouldn’t let you go. You had to carry her out of the car and placed her on the couch. “I’m gonna die if you won’t stay with me. You’re a doctor, don’t let me die, you signed to safe all the life’s you possibly can!” she yelled when you got up to make the two of you some tea.

“Stop saying that! You’re not gonna die.” you yelled from the kitchen. “You don’t know that until you find me dead on the couch in a few seconds.” you heard her mumble when you walked into the living room with two cups of hot tea in hand.

It was a hard day for her and you knew that so you kept her close. If you were all she needed you would be there. And after what must’ve been a tiring day for her she fell asleep next to you, holding your hand as tight as she could in her sleep.

y/n_y/l/n posted on their story

A/N i just realised that the anon might’ve meant that Jill and R met at the hospital but well.. too late now sorry

[x-rds]

[Lio] I keep thinking about tabletop stuff and I will think of (thing that happened or might happen to my PC) and getting sudden physical anxiety spikes. Heart rate up. Feeling hot and fidgety. Emotionally I am just like ‘looking forward to whatever happens’ but not like anxious about it and I’m yet again like hiiii is this our brain bypassing our emotion center and going directly to our body about stuff (it does do this regularly to be fair) or is this like. The guy being stuck in a mind box somewhere. What is the truth

There is precedent for tabletop guys showing up (Odd and Lith) but the notable thing about that is that this.. doesn’t feel like that really. Although maybe not yet? When Odd showed up it was less like I was randomly feeling anxious and more that a blurry external thought process from mine was imposing its own anxiety into whoever was fronting until he was solid enough to either front or hold those feelings himself. When Lith showed up it was a similar external thought feeling ‘pressing up’ against front with a different set of desires than the fronter at the time (he was insistent on ‘helping out’.)

And while Ruin never showed up (.......I think) when we were unsure/feeling pings about it, it was that similar feeling of ‘external mental pressure from someone/somewhere else’, just not as strongly as the others.

What’s happening now on the other hand is not like that, but I don’t want to completely rule it out, because it is considerably unusual that the brain would regularly pull this emotional bypass thing this strongly. Like yes, it does that often, but rarely does it ever happen so intensely that mentally we are fine and physically we are sweating/trembling/heart beating faster/etc, so the degree of it is weird. The other weird bit of it is that there’s a sort of dampening/dulling effect when we focus on it - if we try and pinpoint the source it’s like everything gets muffled. And THAT’S not normal and has not happened before, which is what has me feeling real thinking emoji because that feels like something is just straight up being hidden or blocked. I like this character as a character a lot, also, but if I try to get ‘closer’ to that feeling I get blocked. Not like I stop feeling that way, but like - well, the muffled thing again. It just gets real blurry until I stop looking at it so closely.

So I’m very hmmmm about it.

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 16

#16- Poison/Toxin

“Hey, chum. It wouldn’t be a bother at all.”

“I do appreciate the offer, thank you.” Tim replied. “I think, this time at least, I’d like to go alone—if that’s alright with you?” The anxiety wove through every word he said, but who could blame him. His parents were both dead and his reluctant boss was suddenly his even more reluctant guardian and being made to be—kind. The shift had thrown Tim completely off kilter, and he could only imagine how uncomfortable the whole situation was for Bruce, so Tim was going to make it as easy as possible for him and everyone else involved.

That decision had been made before the ink was dry on the Gotham Child Protective Services guardianship paperwork.

Tim would ask for nothing—

—Including a drive to the cemetery to visit his parents for the first time since their burial two weeks before.

“I’m sure Alfred could—”

“No, really. Thank you, though.” Tim interrupted as politely as one could manage for interrupting. “I’m honestly fine.”

Bruce cleared his throat, disbelieving and uncomfortable. “Alright, then. I’ll expect you to be back for dinner at six o’clock?”

“Of course. I’ll see you then,” Tim said, and with a nod, he zipped up his fall jacket and headed out of the main entrance to the manor, intentionally ignoring Bruce’s presence at the door.

“Call if you change your mind and want a ride back!” Bruce called out as Tim made his way down the driveway.

The boy continued forward on his trek, not bothering to look back, just waving a hand of acknowledgement.

This arrangement would be no different than how it had been with every ‘parental figure’ each time before, if he thought about it. Tim would go it alone.

/-/-/

Tim wished he was sixteen.

No, Tim clarified. He wished he was sixteen and had a driver’s license.

Tim sighed as he trudged through the muck and mud and huddled against the steady rain that definitely had not been in the forecast at lunch when he’d made the impulsive decision to suck it up and make the journey to visit his parents.

Tim thought on that for a second. Actually? Had he checked? He’d have been the first to admit that he was exactly firing on all synapses in the last weeks.

Shit.

How was this even his life?

His brain cycled again and again; Tim wished he was sixteen, had a driver’s license, graduated from high school already, and in a position to be legally emancipated so that he could take over Drake Industries and move forward in a world without the intervention of Bruce Wayne, Commissioner Gordon, and Gotham Child Protective Services.

Tim wiped the wetness from his eyes.

Weird. He hadn’t thought the rain was that heavy.

Stupid rain.

Tim kept walking.

Finally, off in the distance, Tim could see two new granite headstones sat side by side. He changed his trajectory now that his destination was in sight—it was kind of hard to miss them.

Oddly enough, with the rush by the estate executors to get Jack and Janet into the ground and dealt with quickly, there hadn’t been any sort of real marker the last time Tim had been here. They all had more important work to get to. Yes, Gotham Cemetery had kindly provided galvanized wire spikes with pieces of printer paper pierced upon them indicating the places for a Drake, J and Drake, J., respectively. Tim had wondered how that would get sorted.

Now, as he approached from behind, he just wondered what the headstones said.

He was only a couple of rows away when the site itself came more clearly into view. The executor had chosen a beautiful location, nestled under the protective canopy of a mature oak that had somehow managed to keep its leaves even so late into the fall, making it easy enough to find. Tim could see the dirt, still looking freshly turned and barely dappled by the rain—no grass would be planted until the soil was more settled in the spring.

He paid special attention to his mud-stained shoes as he walked those final steps between his parents’ eternal neighbours, then found himself standing awkwardly in front of the people who had always mattered the most in his life.

~Janet Drake, Beloved Wife & Partner~

~Jack Drake, Beloved Husband & Partner~

His jaw dropped as he gazed upon their memorial.

No.

Could the executors have been in that much of a hurry?

Tim’s shoulders hunched a little more as he suddenly choked on both a sob and laugh simultaneously. Perhaps he didn’t need to worry about visiting them after all?

He stood alone with that thought for a minute, then sighed and readied himself to turn around and make the trek back to Wayne Manor while he contemplated what happened next.

And then they caught his eye.

The bouquets of flowers confused Tim at first. Yes, their funeral had been the social event of the season, but it wasn’t like Jack and Janet Drake were actually likeable beings and the cameras were long gone. Granted, there were only the two bouquets, obviously brought by the same person, and each laid at the base of their individual stones from what looked to be a recent visit.

Tim stepped toward them, allowing the tree to shelter him as he knelt to pick up the two arrangements. Now that he was closer, he was struck by the fact that neither held anything actually ‘floral.’ “Weird,” he mumbled to himself as, without a thought, he reached out to run his fingers through the varied greens of the first, and then second identical bouquet, searching for a card, or receipt, or anything that could act as an identifier.

Who else could be mourning the elder Drakes?

He wasn’t surprised to find nothing.

He glanced around, or tried to at least, wondering if any other of the cemetery occupants had been gifted something so unusual, but his too long, rain soaked hair dripped into his eyes. He brushed it to the side then wiped the water from his face before trying again.    

There was nothing to either side of the Drakes, or any of the nearby rows, as far as Tim could see.

A gust of wind strong enough to nearly knock Tim off balance cut through him. The power behind it caught the two bouquets and Tim fumbled to keep ahold of them, clutching clumsily at them and pressing them to his chest to keep from dropping them, though it was a near thing.

The wind, it seemed, had decided to bring with it a heavier, driving rain, leaving Tim at war with the elements and with a decision to make. He’d only really just gotten there.

Didn’t his parents deserve more than a cursory pass by from their only son?

He turned his back away from the newest gust and back toward the headstones. He couldn’t help but read their inscriptions again.

~Beloved husband~

~Beloved wife~

Tim couldn’t help but feel a bitterness sharper than the wind. Even in death he was...

Tim sighed, and rubbed the moisture from his eyes.  There was no point to pretending it was anything but tears.

Giving no further thought to it, Tim gripped the two bouquets and curled himself around them more to protect them from the storm. Should he have put them back where he’d found them? Probably, but as Tim felt the leaves brushing against his chin, he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

For all of his grief, Tim deserved at least this—

Right?

/-/-/

God hated him. Tim was sure of it when he watched the last bus of the day head back toward Bristol with him not on it. He was especially convinced of the fact when the quarter-sized hail started pelting him about three-quarters of the way home. He’d worried that his boon would be damaged so he took brief refuge in a bus shelter with two unshattered glass walls for some protection while he shuffled the bouquets under his shirt. The leaves scratched against his skin a bit, but he’d invested in them thus far, and he was going to follow through.

He’d just have to clean himself up when he got home.

Now though, standing in the front entryway, the duelling aromas of Alfred’s beef stew and chocolate chip cookies wafting from the kitchen were almost enough to convince a shivering Tim to change his plans and sit down to visit with the man for a while. As it was, all he had needed to do was locate a vase to arrange his greenery et voila. Everything else could be dealt with upstairs later, once he got to his bedroom. Alfred, though, in his magical kitchen—he could almost convince Tim that he belonged, and suddenly, that was all he wanted more than he’d ever wanted anything before.

Footsteps sounded from the hall to his left, “Tim? Is that you?” Bruce rounded the corner.

Tim stiffened and replied, “Yes?”

“Oh! Good. You’re home,” Bruce smiled hesitantly as he took in his newest charge. “It was getting late, and with the weather being especially broody today...”

Tim glanced back at the heavy wooden door he’d just come in through, still able to hear the rain hammering against it, and nodded. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Well, uh, dinner is going to be done soon. Did you want to perhaps take a quick shower and warm up a bit beforehand?”

The idea actually sounded heavenly. Tim cleared his throat, “That sounds like a good idea. Are you sure I won’t be late, though? I don’t want to inconvenience anyone...”

Bruce was shaking his head ‘no’ before Tim could finish asking. “The great thing about stew is that it can hold—and I know I’d much prefer you being warm and dry then not, so please...” he waved a hand off toward the staircase. “Take your time. I’m sure it will be just the three of us for dinner anyhow.”

Tim’s cheeks pinked at the consideration. “Thank you. I, uh,” Tim looked down and shifted to pull out the armful of soggy paper wrapped foliage from under its hiding place. “I just need to find a vase for these and then I’ll get right on that. Should I ask—” Tim had intended to get the information from Alfred—and didn’t even want him to collect it from the cupboard for him. This was simply fact finding, and then Tim would continue on with his planned solitude. 

But then Bruce had to go and ruin it all.

“I can help you with that... if you’d like. I do actually know where a few things are kept around here, you know.” Bruce gave a playful wink.

It didn’t matter. Tim paled, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t know where things were, sir!” Tim’s panicked apology came automatically. “I’m sure I can—”

“Tim.” Bruce cut him off before he could get too worked up. “No apologies necessary. I understood your point. You’re fine.” He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m just saying that I can save you the effort of finding Alfred, and if you’d like, I’m even something of an amateur flower arranger, too. May I?” Bruce reached out his arms, anticipating Tim’s acceptance.

But Tim took a step back, “No!” he replied, a little louder than necessary, then calmed, “That’s very kind of you, Bruce, but I’ve got this.” He shifted his hold on the greenery in such a way that some of the paper, already damaged by the water, tore and revealed a peek.

Bruce didn’t care. Confused by his reaction, he took a step forward, “Tim? I wasn’t going to take them, chum. I was going to help you out, is all. I promise.”

He stepped back again, “No. I don’t need any help.”

“I know you don’t need help, but I thought we could—”

“I’m fine. I can do it by myself!” Tim blurted out as he finally darted past the man, “I’ll be down shortly for dinner!” he called out as he bolted for the main staircase and disappeared out of sight.

And he would be fine, Tim reminded himself, even though Bruce had seemed genuinely interested in helping out. Tim would do it alone.

/-/-/

Tim always hated it when he was ‘obviously weird,’ and the longer he spent hashing over their interaction, the easier it was to see that Tim had made Bruce uncomfortable.

He could barely bring himself to focus on the stems spread out on the bedspread in front of him. Tim had bypassed the idea of showering when he realized that the antique pitcher sat decoratively on his dresser could serve as a vase, since he’d missed out on the opportunity to actually plan for a specific aesthetic. And the sooner the job was done, the better.

Except... Tim sighed. He rubbed at his red eyes again. He hadn’t thought he’d been so upset at the cemetery, but apparently he had been enough to irritate his eyes and the skin around them. He hissed at how sensitive they were becoming to the touch. And, for a split second, he contemplated sneaking into Bruce’s bedroom to sneak one of his fancy moisturizers, but then a knock came at his bedroom door.

Tim paused and listened.

“Master Tim? Dinner will be served right away. Could you please make your way to the kitchen table?” Alfred called through the door.

 “Of course, Alfred, thank you!” Tim replied as he looked back at the chaos he’d caused. No way could he deal with his eye issue and his mess. He’d just have to deal with that all later. For the present, at least, Tim rushed into his bathroom and scrambled to retrieve the first aid kit from under the sink. In a flash, he was dabbing antibiotic ointment around his eyes and calling it all good even as it burned. The swelling would settle, and no one would be the wiser.

/-/-/

Tim did his best to avoid making eye contact with Bruce as he came into the kitchen. He’d been halfway down the staircase when his hands started to itch and he’d realized he’d forgotten to wash his hands. His parents would be rolling over in their graves. He was better than that—and could have kicked himself for the oversight. “I’m so sorry I’ve kept you both waiting,” he apologized sincerely as he rushed past Alfred to get to the sink. “Let me do this and then I’ll be able to join you.”

“It’s no bother, Master Tim,” Alfred said as he arranged the bread basket at the center of the table. “I appreciate your cleanliness.” He moved back to the stove and grabbed the pot filled with their dinner. “I could only dream of a young Bruce taking such initiative when he was your age.”

Tim chuckled as he dried his hands with the towel by the sink then turned to the table as he brought a newly cleaned hand up to scratch at the new itch on his neck.

“Tim! Stop!” Batman commanded from his place at the table, because that tone definitely didn’t suit Bruce in that moment. “Do not touch your neck,” he continued as he stood up, “Please.”

Tim’s eyes widened as much as they could as he froze. Something wasn’t right. “What? Is there something on my neck? May face? Is that why it’s—” He stopped himself before he confessed to something that might be turning into a real problem, if the burning irritation was anything to go by. “I mean, it’s fine... let me just go to my room. I’ll use the bathroom there and fix things up.”

Bruce must have told Alfred about his earlier escape because he had placed the pot at its place on the table and shifted to block his means of escape.

“Sorry, chum. I think we need to hit the med bay for this one...”

That was not what Tim was expecting to hear and, in a sudden panic, he threw his hands up to his neck and face to get the answer himself. “Holy fuck!” he exclaimed not quietly enough. Tim could feel the change in tenderness, skin texture, and—elevation? “What?! I—I—”

Alfred took a moment to address his most pressing issue. “Language, Master Tim.”

But then Bruce was back in play and approaching Tim like he was a wounded animal. “Relax, Tim. We’ll get you downstairs and take care of this, okay?”

Tim recoiled, “The Batcave!? But this isn’t Robin related. I’m okay!” He moved to touch his face, wondering what he’d missed upstairs.

“I’m sure it’s not, but it’s late, it’s still storming outside, and I’m not sure the clinic is going to have what you need...”

Tim’s brow furrowed in confusion, then felt the skin pull tight. “What did I do?”

Bruce shook his head, “We’re not going to find out until we run some tests, but I’m guessing it’s some sort of toxin exposure? Again, I know it’s not Robin related.” He tried to reassure Tim. “You’ve barely left the manor since—”

Since Tim’s parents had died, is what Bruce meant to say, but he stopped himself.  

“Yeah,” Tim’s brain went into overdrive. What had he done to—“Shit.” He knew.

Alfred warned again, “Master Tim...”

“I’m so sorry!” The panic swelled, “I have a first aid kit upstairs! I can do this on my own,” he addressed them both. “You don’t have to worry!”

Bruce was close enough to finally wrap an arm around Tim’s shoulder and start leading him out of the kitchen and toward the study. “It’s my job to worry, though, chum.”

“Bruce, perhaps you should limit contact until we know what Master Tim has been exposed to?” Alfred interrupted.

But Bruce just scowled over his should at him. “It’s too late now, isn’t it? Besides, I’ll decontaminate once we get Tim settled. For now we need to figure out what could have gotten all over Tim’s face and neck to cause this!”

—“And you can do that without risking—”

—“Can’t you see that he’s—”

—“Of course I can, but caution is still—”

Tim scratched at his stomach miserably as the two men commenced their oddly out of character bickering, “I know what this is. Please? Just let me be alone.” He spun out of Bruce’s grip, catching both of their attention. “I can deal with this!”

The two men watched as Tim backed away once more. “Bruce, if I’m right, you do need to wash your arms, really well, and maybe change your shirt, too... and I’m so sorry if anything happens to you.” He gestured toward the stairs then, “So, yeah—” And with those words, Tim rushed toward the stairs and was gone.

/-/-/

It was perhaps ten minutes later that someone came knocking on Tim’s bedroom door—again. He prayed that it would be Alfred this time, too.

“Tim? It’s me...” Bruce announced, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Tim called out, absolutely defeated.

Bruce, freshly scrubbed and changed, peeked into the room before stepping fully inside. He’d anticipated needed to kick down the bathroom door to get to him, but no. Tim was simply sat on the edge of his bed, bare-chested and red with nail marks everywhere. His arms twitched at his sides as he fought the urge to scratch or be scratched some more, and his phone lay where Tim had tossed it, screen side up on the floor. To say that his face and neck were looking particularly rough went without saying.

“Tim?”

Tim inhaled deeply, then let out a slow, shaky breath. “Poison ivy, poison sumac, and poison oak.” He waved uselessly toward the greenery strewn across the floor. “I clued in to it when you mentioned the toxin exposure, and technically these are... and it’s one hundred percent my own fault.”

“Are you telling me that, instead of heading to the cemetery, you wandered through the forests of Gotham and picked yourself some toxic plants for kicks and giggles, rolled around in them, and then decided to sit down for dinner?”

Tim scowled, “Don’t be obtuse.”

Bruce was confused, “I’m not trying to be, Tim. I just want to know where it all came from?”

He hadn’t intended to anything more than shrug, but the movement pulled at the skin already tight from swelling at his collarbone and all he could do was whisper. “My parents.”

“Okay? You’re parents sent you this? How?”

He shook his head, ‘no,’ “At the cemetery. Someone had left them at—” Tim paused, adjusted what he was going to say, and continued, “Their graves.” He gave up on trying to resist the urge and started digging at the skin across his stomach. “I’m guessing it was a disgruntled employee or something, not that it matters. I took them, and now, here we are.”

“Tim, please stop scratching.” Bruce was practically begging. “Let’s get you to the Batcave where we can get a proper decontamination done. Afterwards, we can see what we can do to get you on the mend and settled.”

Tim stopped, then got up off of the bed. “If you’d be okay with opening up the cave for me, I can deal with this on my own. I swear. I just don’t want to risk getting any oils on the clock hands for someone else to touch.”

Bruce seemed to consider something, then shifted uncomfortably, “Tim?” He seemed hesitant to speak, “Is there a reason that you don’t want me to help you with this? ... or help with anything, really? I’d noticed a bit here and there, but today, especially...”

Tim said nothing.

“Look. I don’t want to assume anything, but I’ve caught onto a running theme with some of your responses over the last...” Bruce stopped, trying to gauge how long it had been.

Tim read his mind, “Two weeks.”

“Alright,” Bruce nodded in agreement. “For the last two weeks, you’ve been stressing your desire for independence, wanting to do things alone, not taking help... not asking for help? Were Alfred and I correct in our observations?”

Oof. Alfred had noticed, too? Tim closed his eyes and dropped his head in defeat. “Yes.”

“We’ve been ‘discussing’ this, Alfred and I, and we’re assuming that your hesitance has something to do with how you originally came to be a part of our little family and my initial... hesitance at accepting your help. Is that also correct?”

Tim whispered the next, “yes.” Tim braced himself to be blasted for being so stupid, inconsiderate, unobservant, disrespectful, ungrateful, selfish—the silent litany went on.  

Thank goodness Bruce decided to speak up.

“Well then, it looks like I have some work to do... and an apology to start with.”

Tim’s brain blanked out for a second, then Tim’s eyes widened—or tried. It hadn’t been that long, had it? When had the swelling gotten so bad that it was affecting his cognitive function?

“Oh, shit!” It was Bruce’s turn to cuss as he noticed the increased swelling. “Don’t tell Alfred I said that.” He pleaded as he tiptoed through the noxious weeds littered about so he could get closer. “Now, Tim, please know that I am so sorry for how we began. I’m a grown ass man that took out all of my unprocessed grief on a literal boy—Granted, that boy has grown to be someone I appreciate, and care for and am so proud of—but still. I realize I should have said those things, and more, a long time ago. Now,” Bruce was looking worried. “Can we please deal with how your issues intersect with mine once we get you to the med bay and taken care of? I can see the blisters forming near your eyes as we speak.”

But���Tim looked toward the bathroom, where the first aid kit still sat on the floor—what about his plan? He could take care of himself. He was meant to do it—

“Please, Tim. Let us take care of you, Alfred and I, like family is supposed to?”

 The itch was spreading even as Tim battled within himself. He’d never wanted to let go and trust someone more—even after his parents’ own betrayal. But how could he go forward?

“Please.” Bruce begged.

Apparently, one only needed to ask, and before he could change his mind, Tim nodded a tentative, ‘yes.’

“Oh, thank God!” Bruce exclaimed as he reached over to grab the throw over the back of the armchair by Tim’s bed and throw it over Tim’s bare skin. In a blink, he had Tim up in his arms and was in the hallway calling out, “Alfred!” and rushing down the stairs. Then, as they approached the study, Bruce uttered what Tim heard to be a promise, “I’ve got you, son. I’ve got you.”  

[jayfortheday]

Bleed For Me (Eddie Munson)

Pairing: Vampire!Eddie Munson x GN!Reader (romantic)

Word count: 969

Description: Now that Eddie's a vampire, he has to feed somehow and Y/N has generously volunteered

Tags: vampirism, blood, biting, kissing, hint at smut

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure about this?” Eddie asked as he looked down at you. You had to admit you were a little nervous. You had done your best to prepare, you had stripped the sheets off your bed and lay two towels over the bare mattress. Eddie was positioned on top of you, supporting himself with his forearms.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, your heart rate increasing, a sound you knew Eddie picked up on.

“Just let me know if you want me to stop, I can always figure out something else,” he assured you, worry in his crimson eyes. “I promise I won’t go too far, just a bit.”

You nodded in acknowledgement before you took a deep breath and leaned your head back, your hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders. He gave you one last look before he leaned into the crook of your neck.

“You ready?” He asked in a whisper against your hot skin. 

“Yes,” you replied quietly, trying to keep your breathing level. You tried to think of other pains that might feel similar to this, you remembered the feeling of getting your piercings, would this feel similar to those? You could feel Eddie breathing shallowly against your neck, he was almost as nervous as you. The feeling of his teeth lightly grazing your skin caused your anxiety to spike but you remained still. 

You weren’t sure if it was just your anxiety or if it actually hurt this bad, but the feeling of Eddie’s teeth sinking into your flesh burned. Despite your attempt to remain quiet, you cried out in pain, tensing involuntarily. Eddie froze and you could feel him begin to pull away. Before he could completely pull himself from the wound he had created, you put your hand to his head and held him to you. 

“Just…give me a second,” you moaned quietly, your breathing bordering on hyperventilation. Eddie heeded your words and stayed still, not pulling away. After a couple seconds, you gave him the go-ahead.

“Alright, I’m ready,” you sighed, your fingers tightly gripping Eddie’s cold skin. “I wanna do this, trust me.” Eddie hummed against you before he started to lower his head again.

You moaned in pain beneath Eddie as he sank his sharp teeth into your skin, your back arching. Once he had fully bitten down, he paused to give you a moment to collect yourself. A thin layer of sweat had formed on your face and you felt dizzy. Eddie lay his arm beneath your back to support you and began to drink. While the bite itself had been outright painful, what followed it felt more weird. It felt similar to when Eddie would give you hickies, a pulling feeling at your skin that felt strangely good. Of course there was the pain of his teeth but the pain was becoming more dull. 

Beneath you, Eddie gingerly ran his fingers along your spine in a soothing pattern while his other hand came up and gently cupped your face. The show of affection while Eddie was actively consuming from you made you smile slightly. You could feel the warmth of your blood trickle slightly down your neck, and you were grateful for the towel you had placed beneath you and Eddie. 

You felt your breathing start to speed up and a small dizziness began in your head. He was approaching the point where you wanted him to stop. Eddie must have sensed the changes in you because he pulled his hands away from you and placed them on the mattress. Supporting himself, Eddie began to pull away from your throat. You hissed at the feeling of teeth leaving your skin, fingers gripping tightly onto Eddie. Immediately after he had pulled out of you, he brought up a corner of the towel and held it tightly to your wound. 

As he now lay above you, you got a good look at Eddie and felt color rise in your cheeks. The inside of his mouth and his lips were covered in your blood and he was shaking slightly, his eyes wide and dark. He ran his tongue over his lips, which only smeared the blood. Now that he had eaten, Eddie didn’t look as pale as he had before, not as frail, more like the Eddie before. 

“You ok, baby?” He asked, leaning closer to examine the injury he had left. 

“Yeah, just a little dizzy,” you replied, laying your hand on top of his to hold the towel to your neck. 

“Sorry,” he laughed quietly with an apologetic smile. 

You smiled back before placing your hands on either side of Eddie’s face and pulling him down to your lips. You closed your eyes as you kissed him, the feeling of your blood on his lips oddly nice. Eddie quickly reciprocated the kiss, leaning into you. You opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue along Eddie’s lip.

“Really?” He asked with a laugh, separating from you slightly.

“Really,” you confirmed before pulling Eddie back into you. Reconnecting the kiss, Eddie opened his mouth, allowing your tongue inside. Your tongue danced with Eddie’s, running along his sharp teeth, tasting your own blood in his mouth. 

The odd metallic taste wasn’t exactly good, but it brought you a strange feeling that you liked. Your cheeks grew hot and you slowly ran your hand down from Eddie’s cheek to his chest. He hummed quizzically against you, but didn’t pull away. Sensing Eddie didn’t quite get what you were saying, you ran your hand a little further down, stopping just at his belt, you fingertips just beginning to slip beneath the denim of his jeans. Eddie pulled away from you and chuckled. 

“Damn, sweetheart, what did I do to you?” he smiled, his tone switching to something deeper, more seductive. You swung your legs over his hips, resting on his lower back, pulling him into you.

“This.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! I saw the whole Vampire Eddie thing going around a while ago and had to chuck something in my drafts, he be doing things to me

[yaomomvs]

SEIJOH MANANGER HEADCANONS

seijoh, aoba johsai x reader | slight oikawa, iwaizumi and kunimi x reader.

a/n: ugh! i just love my seijoh boys so much! and so, i decided to make one more headcanons for them, tysm! hopefully i’ll do inarizaki next or maybe karasuno.

a bit long but i just love them,and i will do a part two mainly focusing on while they do volleyball this is more of random things

other seijoh!manager works: one | two

the volume in this bus is ASTRONOMICAL

you actually never thought of joining a club, specially a sports one.

but you needed it, so while looking at the board of the school’s options you were unsure.

“i just really need something not that complicated, and that helps me helping others” you muttered to yourself

little did you know the coach of the volleyball team was there, this nice man turned to you and offered you a place in the team.

“but please if you are one of oikawa’s fangirls dont-” “who now?” you genuinely asked. seeing that you didn’t had a clue of who he was talking about he immediately handed the application for to you.

it was first day and you were already late, but you managed to enter the gym half way practice.

you guys remember that tanaka and kiyoko scene in s4? well it was the same

“sorry for being late coach!” your voice sounded all over the place since someone was serving and it was pretty quiet.

ALL OF THEM WERE SHOCKED LIKE 🧍🏻‍♀️

the serve even hit yahaba’s face because everyone got distracted by your beauty

“i- did i do something?” “existing omg”

the coach lined up everyone and they greeted you welcoming you to the team.

you were flustered because it was like you never had a lot of guys around you and now you had to take care of all of them and also

aoba johsai’s team had one of the most attractive boys around likeeee

now, a year later, the energy is purely chaotic.

and i mean like

kindaichi and kunimi are lowkey the ones who respect you the most

not only because you, even if it was for only a year, you were their upperclassman but also you had presence

when karasuno came to the practice andy oh catched both of them after talking to kageyama in the bathroom, you pinched their ears and scolded them

“you both do that again and i’m not being compassionate” “SORRY Y/N”

but also lowkey your admirers

kunimi literally only showed strong emotions around you

“i brought you some sweets” he regularly says

“oh you are great! thank you kunimi!”you appreciated this guys little details with you

“so you have a favoritism with our manager huh?”

“y/n permission to hit kindaichi”

“permission conceded”

kindaichi also respected you because you, when he entered seijoh months ago, were one of the ones who made him believe and helped getting over that anger he had with his ex teammates and you even assured that kageyama was the reason he got better, even if he wouldn’t accept it

the second years, your literal followers

like seriously yahaba watori were always around you.

being in the same grade and class as both dod not helped a lot.

they are like puppies with anxiety separation

because you are the reason they feel loved and cared for

they always sit next to you in class, and they make sure you are comfortable with it.

you need help with hw? watori always is there

yahaba lets you paint his nails every time you got bored in class

you were such a powerful trio

they always bring your favorite drink in the mornin

you even developed this sixth sense where if you just look at each other you know exactly who are you making fun of without even speaking

you always make fun of the shit way of yahaba to flirt oml

and you even advice him on what should he do or not when meeting someone new.

istg if it was not bc of you he would have never got his first date with his crush

kyoutani later joined you, but he had trouble on trusting you

but seeing all the team laying on you he actually let himself rely on another person for the first time

he was the one who scared those stupid volleyball boys fan girls (oikawa’s or the other guys ones) away from you

he also thinks that you are not bad physically talking and he actually says it but privately

he also whenever he is mad or just frustrated comes to you and what he likes is that you don’t go in deep of the details but instead you try to distract him with random thing you say.

“guys i told you several times” you laughed “i do have other thing to do! it not like i can attend every night out with you! i have other friends too!”

“so, we are not watching cartoons tonight?”

“i hate you all so much” you surrendered “see you at 8 pm”

you became the second years core four

and also they looked up to you a lot, why? because you are the only people who always deals with the third years shit

god i think your connection with the third years was only a bit more noticeable than the second years

why? you were not afraid to mess up with them

to be real iwaizumi as oikawa caught your eye since moment one, they were naturally attractive and talented but you made a promise to not fall for anyone

omg you were so wrong

if it was iwaizumi, he always made sure you felt comfortable around

you were no vb genius so he took the time to explain you a bunch of things you did not know 🥺

also, he’s the kind of guy to stop everyone spiking because you were crossing through the gym so no ball gets you

he is the one who always search for you in school, asked about your day, and stuff that might seem basic but it was really meaningful

like he is the kind of guy who memorizes all your favorite places, treats, music anything and actually tries to get you to talk about it

oikawa on the other hand was the one who actually made you feel like part of them

he is so sweet!

like

oikawa only starts practice when you are there

like bold of someone to start hitting a ball without you there, he considered you part of the team, so he always waited for you

he walked you home or nearby every time he could he wanted you safe

his eyes always always instantly light up and screams “y/n-chan!” and immediately runs to you

but also he is the one who search you the most around

if it was lunch time he went to your home room and literally lunches with you no matter what or who

he never lets anyone lend you their hoodie, it always has to be his that you are wearing

he self crowned himself as your favorite

he hugs you out of nowhere istg is the best feeling ever

hanamaki also also also considers you priority

he is kinda more of the lowkey one, he is mainly the one who checks up on you

he once spotted a bruise in your arm and he immediately freaked out

“DO I HAVE TO FIGHT SOMEONE” “god no! i just dropped a huge book there!”

hanamaki is the one who waits for you in the entrance of the gym to walk with you to practice

he also is the first one to notice if something is wrong with you along with iwachan

they both unintentionally pay attention to you a lot and if you do something out of the common they just approach you

and they are always right

“what’s wrong y/n?” hanamaki says

“yeah, is everything okay you need anything?” iwaizumi continues.

“what do you mean guys? i’m okay” you obviously try to lie.

“no you are not, you are acting different”

“yea iwachan is right you always change yous t shirt before practice and the way you are ordering the volleyballs is off”

“why do know me so well” you indeed had a terrible day, so you almost tear up bb of that and be of how amazing your boys were to you sometimes”

“come here little one”

you heard a pout

“i see you oikawa, you can get a hug too. matsu come here”

matsukawa is your hype man

he loves messing with you like in the big brother sister way

like if a guy asked you out he’d be like “sis you can do so much better”

you are always being salty whether it’s between you or other ones

besides if you do have a crush on anyone on the team matsu is the only one to know

and he’d constantly blackmail you with that

“if you don’t buy me anything from the vending machine i will tell oikawa you actually swoon for him” “OKAY FINE”

“tell the coach that we do not need laps or iwaizumi is gonna knowwwww about” “i hate you so much”

but returning to the point you always messed with them specially the four third years

and you were so good at it

one day, you ‘innocently’ mentioned to the boys “i’m just telling you! i’ve never seen two pretty best friends, one of them always gotta be ugly”

GOD LORD THE BOMB YOU JUST ACTIVATED

THEY SPENT A WHOLE WEEK TRYING TO FUGURE OUT WHO WAS THE PRETTY BEST FRIEND BETWEEN IWA AND OIKAWA, ALSO MATSU AND HANAMAKI AHHAHAHAAH

your third years never made you feel insecure

like if you think idk listening to btr was weird because someone in the past made you feel like it be sure the next day they WILL PLAY FUCKING BIG TIME RUSH IN PRACTICE ONLY FOR YOU TO VIBE WITH THEM

also they all four have this little thought that they have to be the ones who protect you

in the court you looked out for them, outside of it they were the ones who did that

if you were teased or someone even had the audacity to make fun of you it could go three ways

you stoping kyoutani and yahaba because they were so ready to throw hands

matsukawa, hanamaki and kunimi just taking you out of there and rather say positive thinks about you

or oikawa and iwaizumi behind you giving the saltiest and meanest glares to whoever dared talking you that way and saying “and you still wonder why people don’t like you?, ” then iwaizumi says “you are right oikawa, you piece of crap have your entire life to be a jerk. take a day off your stupidity won’t left anyways”

god you sure loved those guys

BUT

as it can be really useful sometimes there were other times were they become so annoying

specially when it’s about someone liking you.

like romantic styles

i live for the idea that the vb team had obviously fangirls, oikawa mostly. but you also did

like yeah the fangirls of oikawa and the boys envied you

but the guys in aoba johsai high envied the volleyball team even more

god bless the poor guy or girl who DARES to ask you out

like please someone stop them 😭

on valentine’s day you came to practice a bit late just because you needed to figure it out how to organize all the fucking love letters and the chocolates and flowers that you got over the day.

oikawa was already worried as he always waited for you to start, and so were the guys so they decided to warm up a bit more to wait.

you crossed the door with thousands of gifts and all of that barely catching the ones which you dropped. because at this point you did not even try to hide it from the boys, you just wanted them to start practice.

he looked at you and knew exactly what that meant. he received this every once in a while, but god what was that feeling in his chest when some other people like you?

iwaizumi felt that too, that weird feeling not wanting anyone to think about you that wayyyyy

the rest of the boys had divided opinions but still you were their manager.

“so did all this came from...”

“yes matsu...”

“okay but for scientific purposes we need the names”

“HANAMAKI NO”

poor boys, they just are all scared that you’ll leave them because of someone

what a dramatic queens they are all

some of them didn’t like it bc they also had a big crush on you

so what they do is that they gatekeep anyone from you

like oml if they ever catched you and a girl or guy and they knew they liked you they constantly beg for your attention.

and it’s not only because they are being dramatic but also because they remember last year when you went out with some random dude and broke your heart like

they almost killed that guy

so they wanted you to feel happy and safe

to them? honestly you are the light of their life.

they dedicate every game to you, they take care of you, they listen to you, they brag about you, they love you

because honestly you did all that for them first

and ever since then they made sure to return that to you.

[todomochi-uwu]

Of Unspoken Troubles & Sudden Worries (2/3)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader

Warnings: Angst

Author’s Notes: Finally! The amount of time this took is stupid, but I hope you enjoy it :) Also I´m trying to cope with Jongdae leaving, so please stream “Hello” to understand my pain. 

“Hey Crybaby.”

Previous Part: First Next: Second&Half Third

The same eyes who found were now expecting an answer out of you, they were comforting, soothing but also serious and demanding; words simply didn´t come out of your mouth and you avoided looking at him, choosing to focus on the scratches on your hands and knees.

“Know I won’t tell anyone what just happened, I just want to be able to help you.” He said.

Your voice was trapped in your throat; how ridiculous would you sound if you told him your boyfriend was a piece of shit?

“Did anyone hurt? Is someone harassing you?” He tried again.

This time you shook your head.

“Okay, then did you fight with your team?” You stayed silent this team. “I see, maybe we could try talking to your captain? You are from Shiratorizawa, so your captain is Ushijima, right? Let me just…” When he turned around in an attempt to grab his phone you quickly held onto his jacket sleeve, preventing him from going any further.

To this, he gave you a confused look, “Okay now you need to tell me what´s going on.” He was firm, his tone had changed drastically and his tone was lower. 

Sigh, “I made something stupid, and now I can’t face them.”

“And what exactly is something “stupid”?” He air-quoted.

You knew you just had to tell him at this point.

…

Kuroo had his head in between his hands, trying to understand what you were trying to say. “Manager not girlfriend, what the fuck does that even mean?” He mumbled. 

“So you managed to catch Ushiwaka’s attention, and even though HE was the one to ask you out, he’s being a fucking asshole.” You simply nodded, “Okay, it’s good to know he’s bad at something, to be honest.”

“Wakatoshi is not the monster everyone makes him look, he’s just weird.” 

Kuroo giggled, “Well let me tell you he does have the kind of face that says ‘I’m going to punch if you so much look my way’ You know?” To this you giggled, “Would you like at that? Crybaby can actually smile.”

“Stop it, I’m not in the mood.”

“I know, just trying to cheer you up.” He sighed, before looking at you straight in the eyes, “Do you want my advice or were you just looking for someone to bent?”

“Apparently my rational thinking is not good, because I just keep going to back to him.”

“Because you are not being rational, you are just thinking about how much you love him and how much you wish for him to change, even though he´s not going to.” He was direct, no tenderness, making you flinch “Thinking rational would be to tell you to dump him, he’s not worth it. You are here trying to make it work while he´s just establishing rules as if it was a business contract.” Small tears threaten to come out of your eyes, another knot forming at the bottom of your stomach, “But… I completely understand what you are going through, so you are not letting him go that easily. So I’m going to do something that worked for me in the past, okay?”

You nodded.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Yes. “Did things change in some way?” No. “Okay. Has it been getting worse?” Yes. “Do you sometimes question his love?” Yes. “Are you genuinely happy?” No. “Is this what you thought it would be?” No. 

Kuroo sighed, before taking your face in between his hands “Is he’s not loving you the way he should; if he’s not cherishing you; if he’s not trying his best for you; if he´s not fulfilling the compromise he made to you. Then it’s not there. There´s no other way to put it.”

A loud sob escaped your lips, things you already knew were now coming out of someone else’s mouth, making it seem real, making it hurt even worse. 

“However, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say his intention is not that, he’s not trying to hurt you, he’s just… an idiot.” He looked away, “But everything and everyone has their limit, including you, no matter how much you love him.”

There was nothing much you could say, he was right, you love Ushijima, but it was becoming too much. 

“So tonight we are going to go sleep because my god am I tired from trying to block his fucking spikes, I know you say he´s not a monster, but he sure does spike-like one.” You giggled, “Tomorrow you will fulfil your duties as a manager, but nothing else. You will take notes, refill water bottles and give out towels, what you normally do as a manager. No cheering him, no lovey-dovey looks, no midnight escapades, no girlfriend stuff. If he wants you to act like a manager you will, but he will also experiment what losing someone who loves you feels like.”

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, you knew he didn´t have any malice intentions, but still, you were the crazy person who appeared crying in front of the gym at one a.m. 

“Because I know exactly what it feels like to give out love and receive absolutely nothing, and I’m not letting you continue this destructive cycle; it’s what I wish someone had done for me.”

You didn´t ask any further questions, believing every word he said. You turned around to leave, needing to catch some sleep.

“Hey, Crybaby. You forgot something.”

…

It was now morning, your eyes felt heavy and were swollen, fingers bleeding from all the biting and your body kept trembling from the anxiety, but you had to reaffirm yourself, put yourself first.

And so, you made your way into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare breakfast along with the others managers, who could only give you a sympathy smile and a pat in the back, clearly having heard you cry.

Before you even noticed, the teams were already making their way into the cafeteria, the noise filling the entire building. You started serving plates, placing them in the table for the boys to come and collect them.

“Hey, manager-chan.” A familiar voice said. Tendou. 

“Hey, Sato. Did you get a good sleep? You need to be prepared to be able to block some of those quick attacks from Karasuno” You smiled, taking him by surprise.

“Yeah… Um, I didn´t know you got along with Nekoma?” His eyes were looking straight into the piece of clothing in which you were currently drowning in. 

“Oh yeah, their captain was nice and gave it to me, he said I looked cold.” Shit, you completely forgot about that. Well, fake it ‘till you make it.

“Okay…” He said while returning to his table, Ushijima was already sitting there looking over the notes from yesterday’s practice. “Hey, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Yes, Tendou?”

“Have we ever had any other training camp with Nekoma?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Huh.” Tendou was confused but decided to keep his thoughts to himself. There was no need to worry just for a silly thing, right?

It wasn´t until he turned around to have another look at you did he notice your eyes were positioned on another table, another team, Nekoma. Then Tendou noticed their captain looking directly at you, intensely and without even blinking, before he gave you his signature smirk and a quick wink, then sitting down next to his libero. 

Tendou´s eyes once again returned to you, and this time it shook him, the peachy pink in your cheeks and the shy look in your eyes incriminating you. 

…

Tendou didn´t like it one bit, not when you and Ushijima had something, but after last night´s events, he didn’t know what to think, were you two still together, or was that the final straw?

He saw it during breakfast, he saw during their practice match, he saw it during breaks, Kuroo and you, looking at each other, laughing, talking, a relationship he had never seen before. 

When in the fuck had you met Kuroo Tetsurou? And what in the fuck had happened for you to look at him that way?

…

“Wakatoshi-kun” He whispered, careful of not raising anyone´s attention. 

He hummed in response.

“Are you and Y/N still together?”

“Tendou, I already told you…”

“No, Ushijima. This time I´m serious, are you and her still together?

Ushijima´s eyebrows were furrowed, there was no point in denying it any more, he guessed. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because for one, she´s wearing Nekoma’s jacket, two she hasn´t even bother looking your way, which I don´t blame her after what you did last night, and third the looks Kuroo has been giving her aren´t exactly friendly.”

“What do you mean?”

Goddammit are you fucking blunt, Ushijima, “I mean, she disappears for the entire night, no one in the team knows where she is, and all of a sudden she is friends with Kuroo?”

“I don´t get your point.”

  “What I mean…” He raised his voice, clearly exasperated, he tries again calming himself. “What I mean is, this morning she was wearing his jacket, she has spent all of her breaks with him and she hasn´t even come to greet you.” He hoped this would wake up something in Ushijima, but he simply stared at him, clearly not connecting the dots.

Well, fuck.

This time, Tendou pointed your way, Ushijima was confused, what was so bad? And then, everything made sense. 

Kuroo had taken your phone away, keeping it at a height impossible for you to reach, you were jumping trying to get it back, it wasn´t long before his arm was around your waist hugging you while laughing, you pouting. 

And to this Ushijima couldn´t help but wonder.

What was this strange feeling? And why did he all of a sudden had the urge to punch Kuroo Tetsurou?

Tags: @samanthaa-leanne @missalienqueen @anime-weeb-bnha @minnieminnie00-got7 @ama-suhen @iiwah @saeranoppa @4ambagelbites @sunaswife @puma-d-a @lionhearteddame @ix-elastix @dudejuststop @pruemania @salty4tsukki @wonderblogger @animexholic @kenmascateyes @aralynxo @decaffeinatedcheesecakemiracle @tsibba01 @softkookyy @nnessworls @xxitsaeonxx @hallothankmas @sinex @shinhiromi @killuaking @icedberrytea @foreverdebbie​ @nati-08​ @amoursa​ @lilolpotato​big @bigtitmisfit​ @itzgabz22​ @holographicwriter​ @aonenthusiast​ @flmshneverbreaks​ 

[lirusstories]

Egotober - Ink

Warning: Nightmare at the beginning and food

He’s hiding again, in one of those weird miracle booths from the thing with a camera for a head, hand slammed over his mouth as he muffles his breathing. He watches as it stops past before stopping as it turns it's head around as it looks for him.

It turns back around and Shawn wishes he could sink into the ground like the creatures made out of ink do.

He trembles as it stomps closer, ducking down right before it's light shines through the eyehole. He stays quiet as it turns away and he does his best to withhold a sigh, or a sob, he’s not sure what would come out at this point. He just wants with all to stop, he just wants to be free from this hell.

He hears it stop away and after what seems to be five or so minutes, he uncovers his mouth and lets out a shaky sigh.

It’s quiet for a few moments before the door suddenly slams open with a blinding light.

He wakes up before he can even scream.

He awakes with a strangled gasp, throwing off his far to hot blankets as his heart feels like it's threatening to burst out of his chest.

He's quick to turn on the lamp by his bed, relieved when it turns on and chases the darkness away.

He sits at the edge of his best as he controls his breathing even if his anxiety refuses to go away.

After a few minutes he decides fuck it, grabbing the flashlight on his night stand before turning it on and making his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He breathes deeply when he doesn’t see anyone but someone had left the oven light on.

He goes to the cupboard, grabbing a cup then going to the sink before freezing as he hears the carpet on the stairs shift. 

He can feel his heart rate pick up again as his adrenaline spikes. He can hear his heart pound harder and harder every step taken down the step until he hears, “Shawn? Are you okay?”

He can feel the tension and adrenaline woosh out of him as the lights turn on and he turns around to see a tired but concerned Chase.

He wonders how disheveled he must look in order for Chase to look so concerned, he gives him a barely smile, “Nightmare.”

Chase gives him an understanding look before going over to him, “Go sit, I’ll make us something to eat.”

“No it’s-”

“Sit.” He doesn’t raise his voice or change his tone but Shawn ducks his head a bit as he goes and sits at the table with his water.

Chase goes to the fridge pulling out a large tub of leftover broccoli ham and cheese soup from the fridge.

He scoops some into a pot before putting the tub away before going over to Shawn. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly.

Shawn hesitates before shaking his head. Chase only nods before going to the soup. “I understand, if you ever need or want to talk about it, we’re here for you. I’m here for you Shawn.”

Shawn doesn’t reply but he does feel a bit better having Chase around.

“Try not to pay too much attention to them, it only makes them worse, we all get them. And sometimes it’s best to ignore them and remind yourself, you’re not there anymore, you’re safe now, those things can’t hurt you anymore.”

His voice stays soft and Shawn doesn’t know why, but he feels like crying, he feels better but now he feels like crying before suddenly whipping around as he hears bare feet step onto the kitchen tile. He relaxes when he sees it’s Jackie, squinting at the light but looking a little concerned.

“Is everything okay?” His voice is groggy and he seems to be focusing on Shawn and he can’t help but feel embarrassed. Jackie must’ve woken up because of the talking, he keeps forgetting about his enhanced hearing.

Shawn just nods as he sits back down as his heart rate goes back to normal for the nth time that night.

“Figured you be up, don’t worry, I’m making some for you too.’

Huh, thats why he’s heating up so much.

“Thanks.” Jackie says as he gets himself some water before sitting across from Shawn at the dining table. 

“You sure you’re okay? I heard you hit the wall a few times.” Jackie’s voice is more awake now and full of concern.

Ah, so thats why his knuckles hurt. “Yeah… Just a nightmare.”

Jackie frowns but gives him an understanding look. “If you don’t want to be alone when you have a nightmare next time, feel free to come wake me up, I won't mind, really.”

Shawn’s anxiety begs to differ. Chase nods along as he begins to scoop the now hot soup into bowls, giving Jackie and Shawn’s first.

He wasn’t really hungry when waking up, but the soup smells so good and comforting that he nearly falls asleep in his bowl. 

“Easy there dude, you look like you’re nodding off.”

“Sorry…” Shawn mutters, a bit embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize man,” Chase says as he sits down with his bowl, “Just, eat what you can, we’ll stay down here with you.”

“Oh, you don’t-”

"I'm gonna stop you right there, you're our brother, Shawn, we want to help you." Jackie quickly cuts in before Shawn can try and talk them out of it.

Shawn goes quiet again, feeling rather guilty as it is.

"It's okay Shawn, you're not inconveniencing anyone. You aren't a burden and you aren't making us stay up with you." Jackie reaches over and puts a hand over one of Shawn's. "It's okay, we've all had nightmares, and we all help each other."

Shawn swallows but nod's, keeping his head down as his eyes burning with tears, he can't help but feel overwhelmingly grateful for the two brothers in front of him.

"Can I hug you Shawn?" Shawn stiffens and he can suddenly feel the ink crawling over his skin, trying to get under it.

He frantically shakes his head and Jackie is quick to calm him down, “Hey, hey, it’s okay, if you don’t want me to I won't. Do you want me to let go of your hand?”

Shawn takes a few breaths as he registers what Jackie says, he hesitantly squeezes his hand before hesitantly pulling back, he’s been getting better about touch, but after the sudden feeling of the Ink, he didn’t know if he could handle it.

Jackie just gives him an understanding smile before pulling his hand back.

“Eat,” Chase says after a few moments of silence, “Eat what you can then we’ll move to the couch. Okay?”

Shawn nods, still not quite looking up at them but he does eat.

It’s quiet sans the sound of the spoons hitting the bowls near the end but when they finish, Chase takes the bowls and spoons and puts them in a sink before urging Shawn to get up as Jackie does.

Shawn does and follows them into living sitting on the corner of the couch. Jackie tosses a blanket next to him, the obvious intention there for when he falls asleep before Chase asks, “Any specific movie you want to watch?”

Shawn goes to shake his head before pausing and quietly asking, “Robots?”

“Oh fuck yeah!” Jackie exclaims as he flops onto the recliner, Chase quickly hushes him, reminding him the others are still asleep.

Jackie merely winces and mouths an apology before chase turns back to the TV and puts the Robot's DVD in the DVD player before going and sitting on the other end of the couch.

Almost as soon as the movie starts Shawn’s out like a light.

“Well, at least he’s sleeping,” Jackie murmurs quietly. Chase looks over, rather tired himself and nods.

“Good, hopefully he can have a nightmareless sleep.” Chase mutters as he yawns, snuggling under his own blanket

Jackie hums, nodding off again himself, “Night Chase, sleep well.”

Chase hums as he closes his eyes, “Sweet dreams Jackie.”

He opens his eyes one last time to check over on Shawn, and seeing him with a peaceful look on his face, Chase feels a bit better falling asleep now.

Tags: @malaboos-bodacious-blog @glitchyartist @protectjj @immabethehero

[norimiya]

The Beginning of The End

Loverboy Chapter 20

masterlist   prev

warnings: events of episode 12

"I know you're worried," Langa said slowly, looking at Reki and Kojiro for help. "You don't need to be."

You scoffed, leg shaking rapidly against the stool you sat on. "What?" You laughed, Reki chuckling nervously when the orange you were squeezing trickled out with juice. "I'm not worried at all, it's just Adam you know, just a guy who's fine with assaulting people, no biggie."

Reki steps up after the orange falls from your hands, picking up the watery fruit before throwing an arm around you. "You know Langa's going to be fine, Y/n. Adam's obsessed with him, he wouldn't kill him."

The playful tone Reki gives doesn't help calm your anxiety, if anything it made it worse from the way he said obsessed. "You're not helping."

He gives a tight-lipped smile, nodding his head as he steps back the moment Kojiro stepped forward with a sigh.

"Let a pro handle this," he says confidently, placing his hands on your shoulders. "We know you're worried, Y/n, you have every right to be after what you've been through. But you know these guys, they're smart when it comes to skating. Everything else? Not so much." Reki tries to protest the blatant insult but doesn't when you chuckle.

"Langa will be fine," he says again, patting your face. "If not I'll buy you food the rest of the week." Langa and Reki deadpan at the gamble.

"Hey." Your head turns to the dope sketch entrance, seeing Kaoru, Miya, and Hiromi lurking in the front. "Let's go."

Kojiro leads you by your shoulders, walking you towards his bike while the others go towards the car. Reki waves enthusiastically before he climbs into the trunk, hoping the small action will calm your nerves more.

"You'll be okay, right?" Kojiro asks one final time, hesitantly handing you a helmet. "You don't have to go."

"I'll be fine." You answer, "As bad as it sounds, I have more faith in Langa getting by without harm than I do Reki."

"Yeah," Kojiro sighs, a small smile on his face. "Don't let Reki hear that one."

A small laugh, genuine and all, falls from your lips, dissolving all (some) of the worry that built-in Kojiro's head.

—

At the gates, there's a backup of cars as the guards redirect people away from the main entrance, shouting out directions and why the normal route was closed.

There's a sudden drop in your stomach when you reach the substitute route, vile rising to your throat as the large screen displayed images of the course.

"This has to be a joke, right?" You asked, blindly reaching for Reki's hand, gripping it tightly when he grabbed hold. "This course is an actual death trap."

"It's the course from the earlier days of S," Kaoru says, "It was too dangerous so it was banned."

"Rise of the dead." You mumble under your breath, rubbing your thumb over Reki's knuckles. "Those spikes are no joke." You huffed.

Reki's lips part at your words, looking back at the other four before pulling you close to him. "Is that how you got that scar?"

You shake your head, "Factory. This is the course I did against Adam when he was perfecting the love hug." He hums, watching you pull your shirt down subconsciously. "Anyways."

He opens his mouth to say something else but gets cut off by the loud cheers surrounding him, the race has started.

It's hard to watch Langa struggle to push himself to go faster, that all efforts to pass Adam go wasted. Reki found it hard to believe, mouth falling agape when Langa lost the battle in mid-air.

"Never thought I'd see someone get more air than him," Reki mumbles, making light of the situation. "It's weird."

"Adam's been perfecting his skills since he was a kid." You murmured, "It's no surprise he's got everything down to a tee." Reki makes a noise of agreement.

The two pick up speed from there on out, never slowing down, not at corners, or spikes. Adam pulled further ahead when they reached a cave, Adam lining the top to make a multitude of spikes fall.

A shiver runs down your spine when Adam slams his foot on his board to make it break, revealing a cross-shaped deck. Your eyes fixate on Langa's expression when it pans to him, furrowing your brows when he looks out of it.

"New interval record has been achieved."

Carla's robotic voice pulled your attention away from the screen, looking back at Kaoru. "Y/n, you know."

You nod as you turn back, gulping when the camera goes to a bird's eye. "The zone."

Reki looks at Kaoru before you, tilting his head and tugging on your hand to make you look at him. "The zone?" He echoed, confusion laced in his tone.

"It's a state of total concentration," you explained, keeping your eyes set on the ground. "It's like being in a completely colorless room, with no way out."

Reki turns to Kaoru after your explanation, spluttering after he nods his head at him. "How can he— is he, how can he get out of it?"

"Don't ask me," Kaoru says, "Ask someone who's able to get in the zone."

Reki's hesitant when he turns to you, not out of denial or blatant doubt, but out of caution, he doesn't want to remind you of something bad.

"I don't know either," you respond after he doesn't say anything for a second. "All I know is it's a one-way trip if you're in the zone in this kind of place."

Panic settles further into Reki's body when Langa trips over a crack in the course, gripping your hand harshly and yelling at the screen.

It doesn't get better when Adam leads Langa onto a poorly made bridge hovering over a cliff. As Langa falls, there are murmurs from people who couldn't even process what was happening, and loud shouts from your friends just beside you.

There's a buzzing white noise that drowns out everything around you, your hand fell from Reki's grip the moment the boards crumbled beneath him. It's cold.

You shake your head, you're not the one who's about to die, or well maybe you shouldn't say that. Your head spins when the camera pans on Langa completely helpless.

Was he going to die? Just like that?

Taglist (send an ask or reply to be added or removed); @scentedcandlesandcookies @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @hallothankmas  @akuri-shinsou @leuki @kronavis @tremenjules

[the-bau-quinjet]

Memories, Pt. II

Summary: You were captured by Hydra. What did they do to your memories?

Warnings: mentions of violence, panic attacks

Word Count: 1982

a/n: Ahh, part 2! I hope you like it :)

I know it's only been a day since part I, but this really felt like it took forever to write. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out though. Again, sorry if it's confusing! Hopefully you understand the concept I'm going for.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

4 Years Ago

"Y/N!" Steve called out to you from down the hall, a man with dark hair walking beside him. "I'm glad I caught you. Buck came back from a mission last night, and he's the only one left for you to meet."

You eyes lit up at the mention of Bucky. You'd always admired him for the steps he took to recover from his time at Hydra.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You smiled, trying not to sound too eager. "It's an honor to meet you Sergeant Barnes."

"An honor?" His eyes sparkled with disbelief. "And please, just Bucky."

You nodded at his request before explaining. "An honor, truly. Sorry to be blunt, but you've been through hell and are still out there helping people every chance you get. You're a hero." You whispered that last line conspiratorially, knowing he would get flustered from your brief conversations with Sam Wilson.

"Did Wilson put you up to this?" He questioned, a tell tale flush blooming on his cheeks.

"Just the hero bit." You chuckled when he rolled his eyes. "Everything else came from me." You waited a beat before continuing. "It's true though. You are a hero." You winked before saying goodbye and continuing with your night.

Steve stared at his best friend as he watched you walk away, knowing exactly what that small smile meant. "You like her!" He accused, although lightheartedly.

"Shut up, punk. I just met her." Bucky tried to stop smiling, but your lingering first impression left him feeling giddy.

"Doesn't matter. It's true." Steve easily dodged Bucky's fist. "You don't have to admit it, but I know."

The two men continued down the hall, Steve teasing Bucky when he was still smiling 10 minutes later.

-

Present

You must've fallen asleep eventually, because next thing you know you are waking up to a room full of people. It takes a minute for you to recognize all of them, but you know the names and reputations well enough to figure it out.

Bucky has his head resting on the edge of your bed, your hand still encased in his. You involuntarily squeeze his hand, as if your muscles have a mind of their own, to gain his attention.

It's comical how quickly his head flies up, gaining the attention of the multitude of superheros in the room.

"You're awake!" Wanda shrieks, beyond relieved to see you home.

"What happened?" Sam adds on, concerned for what you went through.

"Are you okay?" Nat questions as well.

Your eyes flicker between them, unsure how to respond to any of them. Luckily for you, Bucky clears his throat to capture your attention.

"How are you feeling?" Your body instantly relaxes at the softness of his voice, as if remembering things you don't.

It's weird, lying in a room full of people who believe something you know not to be true.

"I, um, physically I feel fine." His eyes on you pull the truth out. "I, um, I'm still kind of confused about what's going on though."

He presses a kiss to your palm, again easing the tension from your body.

"You don't remember anything?" Nat's first to speak up, her typical skepticism peaking through.

"Not about the mission. I mean, I was kept in that room the entire time I was there." Three years flashes in your mind. Why do they think it was only three months? None of this makes sense. "I know all of you though." You're careful not to lie, knowing she would likely spot it.

Their faces relax as they take in your statement, causing a jolt of anxiety and stress to run through you.

Hydra may have convinced you that 38 people died at your hands, but your own personal morals haven't changed. You've accepted "the incident" as they put it was your fault, but that doesn't mean you're a cold blooded killer. They didn't have enough time to change you that much.

Steve, although upset with the lack of information, understands the position you're in. It's easy to see he's still worried about what happened to you while you were "captured".

"Why don't you go up to your room and decompress. The memories could still come back to you."

You can't help but smile at the kindness being shown to you. You give him another small smile while nodding, trying to figure out a way to get someone to take you to "your room" because you have no idea where it is.

"C'mon, I'll help you." Bucky wraps an arm around your waist as you stand, and although it's the first time you've experienced it, it feels completely natural to be in his embrace.

Everyone calls out statements of encouragement and well wishes as the two of you walk out of the med bay. You do your best to not marvel at everything you pass, simply trying to remember the layout of the building.

A few turns later, you've arrived at an elevator where Bucky presses the button for your floor. When the doors open again, he guides you through a hallway to what you presume is your room.

"Thank you, for helping me." You turn to him before stepping into your room.

"I would do anything for you." He whispers back, hand still rubbing your hip. When he leans in to kiss you, you panic.

"Um, I'm going to take a shower. Maybe feeling clean will help with all of this." You vaguely gesture to the air, unsure how to put everything into words.

"Oh, uh, sure. We can talk later?" He hides his confusion at your behavior, understanding how weird it can be to readjust.

You nod before closing the door, leaving him slightly stunned in the hallway. A few steps into your room, and a friendly Irish voice is calling out to you.

"Welcome home, Ms. L/N. Would you like to hear your messages?"

Your heart rate spikes as you rapidly look around the room, trying to spot the intruder.

"Who, who said that?" You continue spinning, trying to spot the voice.

"My name is Friday. I am an AI built into the compound." Your breathing settles as you begin to comprehend the information. Nobody is in your room. You're alone.

"Oh. Okay." You continue taking deep breaths, trying to prevent the panic from settling in now that you're alone.

"Would you like to hear your messages?" The AI asks, again catching you off guard.

"What messages?" You can't deny that you're intrigued by the concept of someone leaving you messages here. "What the hell happened? What is going on?" You mutter to yourself.

"You left for a mission 3 months ago. Communication was cut off 2 days after your departure. All resources were diverted to finding your location and bringing you home." Friday announced, as if it was common knowledge. You would suppose it should be if it was true.

"3 months ago? I was there for 3 years. I've never been here before! Why do they all think I'm an Avenger? None of this makes any sense." Your head is spinning, and all you want is to wash the last 3 years of dirt and grime from your skin.

As you step into the shower, Friday continues to answer your questions, ultimately giving you the version of events that the Avengers all seem to believe.

You joined the team four years ago. Tony and Steve brought you back to the compound after you fought alongside them. Your mutation gives you enhanced senses, allowing you to predict the enemies moves. Despite your lack of true training, the two men were impressed by your skills and dedication.

After getting dressed, you finally bit the bullet and asked to hear the messages. Instantly, Bucky's shaky voice filled your ears.

"Y/N, we lost contact with you yesterday. I just, I needed to feel like I was talking to you." A shaky breath could be heard before he continued. "You promised me you'd come back. I, I can't lose you, doll. Stay strong. We're going to find you."

The next message began immediately. "It's been a week now without you. Steve says we're getting closer, but I know he's just trying to calm me down. I will find you, Y/N. That's my promise."

Tears began pouring down your face as you listened to his voice, sounding battered and broken due to your absence.

"Steve keeps telling me to rest. He says I won't be any help if I'm burnt out. But, I- I can't sleep knowing you're there. Not knowing what they're doing to you. I can't sleep because all I see is you, and it hurts. Doll, it hurts so much. I'm going to find you. I will because I can't lose you. Not like this. Not to them."

The messages continues playing, doing nothing but encouraging your tears.

"Two months. I'm so sorry, doll. It's been two months and we're not any closer. I hope you know we're trying. I'm trying. I won't rest until I have you back in my arms. I love you."

Your breath caught in your throat at those three words, he loves you? How? How can he love you if you didn't even meet until yesterday?

"We figured it out. We've got a location. I'm coming baby. I'm coming."

The last message ended with a beep, but you barely heard it. Your breathing was erratic, your heart rate skyrocketing as the anxiety took over your body.

He couldn't possibly love you. Not when he doesn't know the things you did. The people you killed.

"Enacting protocol 7, paging Mr. Barnes." The AI's voice went unheard by you, muffled by your choked sobs.

Not 30 seconds later, Bucky was rushing into your room.

"Y/N!" He ran to you, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace. He whispered soothing words into your hair, slightly rocking you back and forth.

Somehow, he knew exactly how to calm you down. His warm breath on your neck, strong arms around your body, and the soothing rocking motion all worked wonders for you.

"It's okay. You're okay. You're home now. I've got you. You're safe."

His words brought fresh tears to your eyes, although your breathing calmed and anxiety lessened after a while.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He whispered a few minutes after your body stopped shaking.

"I, I'm just so scared." You didn't know what to say. You wanted to come clean. To explain who you really were, but the fantasy described to you by the AI sounded like a much better life.

A life you wanted to believe in, but felt like you didn't deserve.

"Scared of what, doll? You can talk to me." He whispered, still rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back with his flesh hand.

Of me. You wanted to come clean, but it was terrifying. You couldn't go back to that prison.

"Of... Was I really only there for three months?" Your voice was shaky, confusion laced with fear.

Bucky's guilt at not finding you sooner multiplied tenfold as he took in your expression. You looked so innocent and afraid, his heart broke just thinking about what Hydra did to you.

"Doll, I'm so sorry I couldn't come for you sooner. I know three months must've felt a lot longer... I promise, I'll do everything I can to help you get through this. You're not alone." He held you closer, tucking your head close to his heart in a show of protectiveness.

"Can you just, stay with me tonight?" Your words were barely a whisper, afraid to test the strength of the delusion you found yourself in.

"Of course." His words were firm, but soothing to your ears. "I love you." You squeezed him tighter, resting your body against his as the two of you laid in bed.

permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

the hues of an empty sky

Missing memories, or having two of them for one moment - not quite the same, but if there's one thing Jay's leant over the last few weeks, it's that literally nothing makes sense anymore.

Or, some Skybound aftermath, Zane actually expressing emotions about his memory switch being turned off for all those years, and what was supposed to be a 'they tell everyone about the erased timeline' fic, but it turned into a 'two characters who barely interact on screen talk at like one am in the morning, and don't actually tell the other what exactly they're alluding to the whole time' fic that I wrote at like one am- 

Also yeah, I realized too late that they split up to look for Wu after s7, we’re just gonna pretend that they waited a few days or something, idk anymore tbh, lol.

(I also didn't have time to edit - so please tell me where the typos are? 😂💛)

Word count: 4539

Prompt: crying, from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Trigger warnings: the main character has a panic attack, and squeezes their fingernails into their hands once or twice but I think that's it.

*facepalms* also, guys, i’m so stupid - i literally just realized that this freaking CHANGES TENSE HALFWAY OHMYGOSH I-  i don’t think it’s super noticeable, but ugh, apologies to anyone who actually thought my writing was good lol-

---

It's cold.

Bitterly, freezing cold.

The biting chill of the air is a bit strange for this time of year, but, heck, that's nowhere near the craziest thing that's ever happened to him - not by a long shot.

He sighs, squinting at the stars dotted liberally against the black canvas of the sky.

Cole had once joked that one of them might be the remains of their golden weapons, after they'd hurled the burning mass into the sky - in another alternate timeline; one that only existed in the memories of a certain few.

Gosh - that seemed like such a long time ago.

Wouldn't it be nice to go back to that time, when he'd still thought that their powers were the coolest thing ever - instead of despising them for all the responsibility and sacrifice that came with them? When one of his biggest worries was whether the girl he had a crush on liked him back - not wondering if his friends would survive the night?

"I did not expect to find you awake at this hour, Jay."

Reflexivity, he jumps back, his mind twisting his friend's gentle voice into the- the djin's triumphant, accented one.

You're supposed to be a ninja. What good are you if your friends can still sneak up on you?

"Geez, warn a guy before you sneak up on him! I almost fell off the Bounty!"

"My apologies. I was... surprised to find you awake at this hour," Zane answers. "What are you doing?" "Couldn't sleep. It's too cold," he confesses, not entirely a lie. Ninjago wasn't 'that' far from the Sea of Sand, but he'd grown up in a much warmer area - unfortunately resulting in his practically nonexistent tolerance to the cold. That never failed to stop Kai from teasing him about it, though. He doesn't mention the pressing weight on his chest, almost tangible - or how it constantly makes him feel. Like he's being dragged through the darkness of an empty sky, spikes of fear making everything so freaking terrifying- "You?"

"I have been analyzing my memories of Pixal, in the hope that it may lead me to her whereabouts. However, all my efforts have proved... unsuccessful," Zane answers wearily, shifting his gaze to the sky.

Oh- oh. They'd all be so caught up in the chaos of the last few weeks - hey, it's not like any of them had asked the universe to permanently be out to get them! - that they'd forgotten Pixal was still offline.

"Hey, I'm sure that she's still there somewhere," he says, earnestly. "After all - she wouldn't be your girlfriend if she didn't pull a vanishing act every now and again, eh?"

The question is punctuated with a laugh, but he doesn't say that he's a little worried about her too. They hadn't talked much, but-

I can't see one of my best friends find out that his girlfriend is dead, a quiet voice at the back of his mind points out. Well - been there, done that, wouldn't recommend, he thinks bitterly. Emotional breakdowns and frequent nightmares apply. Anxiety attacks are half off, too!

It's quiet for a few minutes, neither of them seeing a need to break the silence. The wind blows softly through the sails above them; gray wisps of cloud revealing a pale sliver of moonlight that paints the sky in its glow.

It should be a peaceful night: beautiful, calm, no one trying to kill them or destroy their city - for a change.

His hands won't stop shaking.

It should be a peaceful night, but, as usual, the world is too freaking unfair for that-

He hasn't even slept for a full night in weeks! Well, not since- since-

Don't think about it! That's only going to make it worse, duh-

"Are you alright, Jay?"

"Yeah- I- I'm good, thanks," he says quickly, ignoring the way his breathing keeps speeding up. FSM, not this-

Not for the first time, the world suddenly becomes too loud - too much. Every little thing, from trying to breathe properly or even walk- feels insurmountable, because, gosh, oh gosh, it's going to come crashing down if he even moves-

The memory starts off the same as it always does.

Rubble strewn over the temple grounds, his friends literally reduced to nothing more than statues. A shot that hit the mark perfectly, but perfectly shattered his world in the process.

A poison-splattered dress, a terrifying realization.

Her well-aimed joke, but one that never fails to sting every time. Gosh, why hadn't they just allowed her to join their team in the first place? Maybe they could've prevented this- this- whole situation, if they hadn't been so freaking egotistical-

And, again, he's overwhelmed by the sheer sense of helplessness, all his power and training and skills completely useless to one of the people he cared most about. FSM, if only I hadn't used my first w-request so carelessly! If only I'd been able to escape- or, or if only I'd been able to assemble the team faster! If only-

Despite being in what must've been unimaginable pain, she offers a strained smile - a sweet gesture that, ironically, feels like she's poisoning him, because- because FSM, this is all so wrong, it wasn't supposed to end like this-

He watches with horror as her eyes dull and she stills in his arms.

She's gone, FSM, she's gone and it's all my fault-

"Jay?" a voice asks, concern evident in their tone. Distantly, he registers that he's having a breakdown in front of one of his best friends - one of the things he'd been trying really hard to avoid.

Dang it.

"I-" he tries to say, but, great, he's breathing too fast to even get the stupid words out.

"Breathe in for four seconds," Zane says, softly.

Four seconds? Time has no meaning right now, narrowed down to, like - falling down a chasm, terrified of what's at the bottom, except the fear's all around, this- this... foreboding thing of his mind that keeps yelling that he needs to run, or fight, but he can't, can't-

Right. Four seconds.

You're okay, you're fine, no one's trying to hurt you or your friends. She's not dead.

But what if- what if they're being dragged out of this ship right now? What if it was all a dream, and she's dead anyway, because all of us were too stupid to come up with another plan, and none of us could even do anything when she-

After a little while, when he could breathe a little easier, and the fear didn't feel like it was slamming into him from every possible direction, he slowly opened his eyes. Shakily, he wiped a tear from his face - as if that would wipe away all the weeks that had, theoretically, never even freaking happened.

The sky comes back into focus - pinpricks of light against pitch black. 

How was he going to come up with some sorta explanation without... well, explaining everything?

Great.

My nerves are frayed, and I have to lie to a walking lie detector - what could possibly go wrong?

"Are you alright?" Zane asks, his brows creased in concern.

"Heh heh, yeah. Probably just too many video games," he replies quickly, laughter a bit strained.

"You were muttering to yourself," his friend replies quietly. Ugh, trust the way-too-observant-nindroid to call him out on the remains of his facade. "If you do not mind me asking, what was 'all your fault'? I am sure that it was probably a misunderstanding."

You're the one who misunderstands everything, he thinks wearily, ignoring the part of him that yearns to tell someone else about... well, everything that's happened because of that stupid teapot. He's not one to keep secrets by nature, and it's been taking a bigger toll of him than he'd thought it would. Is this how Nya felt when she was still the Samurai? "It's- it's nothing, probably just nonsense."

"Are you sure? You seem... quite worried about something."

Dang it, were his hands still shaking? He presses his fingernails into his palms, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

He's talking to one of his best friends, FSM. Weren't friends able to tell each other anything?

"Do you think it's easier to forget? Better?"

He didn't even realize he'd asked a question until Zane's eyes widened in surprise.

A forest coated in snow, ice crystals dangling from the tree branches above their heads. Plenty of screaming - way too much, he reflects, couldn't they have been a bit nicer? It must've been pretty jarring to learn that you weren't human, or that your father had erased years of your life from your mind - in that weird underground treehouse. Those crazy tree monsters - and the realization that they all had much more power than they'd thought.

"N- nevermind," he stutters, fleetingly thinking of kicking the deck. "That's way too personal, you don't have to answer it-"

"I do not mind," Zane says, a bit sadly.

Oh.

Heck, his friend was way too nice.

They gaze up at the stars for a few minutes, not really seeing them - one drowning under the weight of too many secrets, the other, too many memories.

It's quiet - too quiet.

Ugh, he thinks, sighing, that sounds like something a low-budget horror movie would start with, cringey sound effects to match.

But the silence is a painful reminder of the days he'd spent tossing and turning in a cramped cell - nothing but his worries and the bruises on his leg from that stupid ball and chain keeping him awake.

He's been trying hard - maybe too hard - to avoid being alone, avoid being in a situation where they've gotta be quiet ever since then, because, dang it, his memories always seem to fill the silence, and they're always far more terrifying than they should be-

It's easier, in a way, to be mocked for his stupid jokes than it is to relive a single moment from those nightmarish few weeks.

Almost reflexively, he grasps for something to fill the quiet.

"Heh, this is a bit awkward. It's okay if you wanna leave-"

"I do not mind," Zane echoes, walking a bit closer. "It is not as if I need to sleep. But... I do not quite know what to think of your question."

There comes the answer - or a semblance of one at least, and it's the last thing he'd been expecting.

"You don't know?" he blurts out before he can even think of trying to filter the thought. Way to treat your friend who's been nothing but kind to you, Jay. "But you're- you're a nindroid! You know everything-"

"Pixal," his friend mutters softly, sighing, and the hurt, the fear, laced through the word makes something in his heart practically twist. He knows all too well what it feels like to be in that situation - even if, technically, it had never happened.

Then- "I wish that were true. But I suppose that my emotions make certain situations much more complicated than... than they need to be. Thus I cannot give my perspective on this - or, at least, without sounding quite conflicted."

"You know that you're allowed to be conflicted, right? Even the coolest Nindroids don't know everything."

"...Yes, I suppose so."

Jay frowns at the almost subconscious hesitation, eyebrows creasing in concern.

"Seriously," he starts earnestly. They're both leaning on one of the railings just above the deck now. "Just 'cause you're a nindroid doesn't mean that you've gotta chase some kind of perfection that doesn't even exist."

He doesn't miss how Zane's eyes widen in shock, their bright blue hue glowing a little brighter - and heck, if that doesn't hurt even more than the earlier realization.

"Besides - it's not like none of us haven't made mistakes before. Hate to go all Wu on ya, but they help us learn or some stupid thing like that. Even if the mistake is trying not to make 'em, you know?"

"Thank you," Zane replies, a tired smile on his face. "Even the most advanced tech is susceptible to error, I suppose."

They've all made lots of mistakes, heaven forbid if one of them is still agonizing over messing up over the crazy situations the universe constantly put them in. It's not like they were told they'd have to face more ancient evil armies than they could count, were they?

Maybe it's time to stop focusing on events that never even happened, and pay more attention to your friends. What's the point of being part of this team if you're always scared or selfish?

"Shut up," he mumbles, rubbing his temples. What's the point of fighting if your own brain is gonna fight you whenever it gets a chance? A few seconds later, he schools his face back into his default anxious grin. "Great, cause I- I- could use your advice on something." "Alright," comes the quiet reply, his friend seemingly lost in thought.

"What if you wanted to tell someone something, but you couldn't?"

His breathing starts to speed up again, but he grips the deck until his fingers are practically bruised, stark white against his tanned skin. Not this time-

"Is this what you were referring to earlier? An event that you blamed yourself for?" Zane asks, eyes flitting between the floor and the sky.

Dang it, way too observant as usual. He masks his surprise with a laugh, but the conversation definitely isn't going as planned and, oh gosh oh gosh, what if-

No, there's no way that any of them would even believe that. Besides - no one can remember stuff that they've forgotten, especially if magic's at play.

"Yeah, kinda," and he's surprised by how steady his voice sounds. It's not easy to even think about that- event, talking about it is a whole different thing. A much more difficult thing, but also - a bit, a little bit, easier. "I-" "Apologies for interrupting," his friend interjects. "I suppose that I have not been entirely honest with you." What?

"A few days ago, I discovered a number of deleted memory files buried deep within my code."

Just like that, his whole world tilts out from underneath him.

It takes every ounce of his strength to keep himself from falling into the abyss again.

Wait, what?

Has he really known for all this time? It's been weeks! Surely he would've said something? It can't be, it never even-

The rational part of his mind points out that he can remember every day of those few weeks. Well, he was the one to make the wish - magical logic is kinda stupid, but maybe that's why he had to remember it or something?

Well then, a small voice interjects, why was Nya cursed to remember everything too?

Of course, even the stupid magical logic doesn't even make sense to the one who caused this whole mess in the first place.

"They were almost entirely corrupted - scrambled in a way that I am not familiar with. However, I did realize that certain files bore dates that have not even occurred yet. I dismissed it as a problem with my code, however..."

Breathe, calm down, it's not like he was able to process them or anything-

We agreed that no one was supposed to know! What if they end up blaming us for keeping it a secret this long, or, or-

"I mean, they could've been-" he starts, but the way in which he's nervously twisting his fingers is a pretty clear indication that he's lying, dang it.

"So when you mentioned that you were unable to tell someone something - did you mean that it was because they had quite literally forgotten about it?"

Great. Fantastic. Of course the literal robot has pieced it together by now-

He squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, hoping that if he ignores the problem, maybe it'll go away.

Okay, fine, maybe he's trying to figure out a way to fix this whole mess. Doesn't mean that he's any closer to coming up with a solution, though.

"Er, yeah," he whispers, shoulders slumped, eyes still firmly shut. Because gosh, he doesn't want to - can't, can't - see the realization dawn that, yeah, he's lied to people he's known for years and years, even though they've all seen way too many times that secrets bring nothing but trouble-

"Well, then - I would say that you don't have to tell them," Zane replies, surprisingly... earnestly? That, or he's either too freaked out to understand the tone properly. Could be either.

He opens his eyes, hesitantly.

And it comes as a bit of a shock to find nothing but concern reflected in his friend's.

The almost persistent weight on his chest feels a little lighter now, like the sky isn't as quite so empty.

Well, it still kinda is. But that doesn't hold as much weight as he'd thought it did - not if one of his friends is willing to look past that; past the heaviness of holding up all those memories with nothing his single star, flickering in and out of the darkness, to try and light the unforgiving darkness of the sky.

"Why?" Jay asks, so quietly he can barely hear it himself. "Don't I owe it to them? Do you?"

"No. Definitely not," comes the reply, so full of conviction that he almost stumbles back. Why-

"My father..."

Oh- oh.

"thought it was better to spare me the pain of mourning him than for me to know who I was," Zane confesses, hesitantly. "Not that I disagree, necessarily. I just..."

He trails off, clutching the railing so hard that the wood almost snaps beneath his titanium fingers.

It takes Jay a little while to realize why - why exactly his friend, who has access to a wealth of knowledge and information, is grasping for an answer. Because- because, well, even if someone does something in your best interests - sometimes the choice isn't always up to them. Or maybe it is, but it was... difficult, to say the least, to let go of the fact that his parents had never told him the truth sooner. Not that he blames them, necessarily - it's not like they knew that his father would pass on before he'd even get the chance to meet him - but... it's confusing, and difficult, not to know why you were left at a junkyard as soon as you were born. Maybe if he'd known that sooner, he could've asked the one person who might've had answers - although it's not like hoping for the past to change will actually change it.

They don't even know that you know, a small voice at the back of his mind points out, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense-

"You wanted a choice," he breathes, eyes widening. A choice - like one that he'd never been given, one that he stills struggles not to hold against two people who've always had his best interests at heart. Even if they did have the right to withhold that one thing, after all they've done for him - the 'what if's' still echo in his mind far more often than he'd like. "There's nothing wrong with that, even if it feels that way. I kinda get where you're coming from, dude, and it's... super confusing, but I'd be pretty mad if my memories were tampered with like that."

So would anyone, he realizes, heart sinking. Oh, great. Not helping-

"I- I suppose so?" Zane answers, but it sounds more like a question than a reply. "However, in the same vein, it would be unwise for you to give away your choice whilst you still have one." "But don't I owe it to everyone? You just said it, it's horrible to alter people's memories and I- I-" "Did we forget... whatever it was for a good reason? "I- I mean, I guess, but..." "Then you do not owe it to us to relive something that we do not even remember." The words should be a relief - and they kinda are. But some part of him really does want to explain the crazy alternate timeline, and everything that happened in it. It's just... really, really freaking difficult.

"What if- what if I wanted to, though?" Jay asks hysterically, running his hands through his hair in a frenzied sort of way. "And I still couldn't? I just, I-"

He cuts himself off with a bout of forced laughter.

Zane takes a moment to reply, the bright blue light in his eyes flickering - a small tell that he was thinking so deeply, his processors were literally sparking up a bit.

"You queried earlier if it was easier, or better, to forget. And while all situations are different, I suppose it is... well, subjective. What do you think?" Zane asks, softly.

Derailing the conversation a bit, but his friend's obviously smart enough to be leading up to something.

Sure, he'll go along with it.

"I mean, there are some things I'd rather forget, you know? I guess we all know what that feels like," Jay replies, the statement with oddly sad air to it. They're still kids, after all, and it gets a bit exhausting pretending that their superhero lives were all fun and games - when they'd just given him enough grey hair to last then lifetimes, and enough nightmares to keep him from ever getting the normal amount of sleep his mum always prattled on about.

Sleep, heh heh. Practically a foreign concept, now.

"And I know that stuff that happens, like shapes us or something - and Master Wu would probably go off on a whole ramble about why we learn from our mistakes or whatever," he laughs nervously, resisting the urge to just fall headfirst onto the deck of the stupid ship instead of continuing the conversation," and how 'our scars only make us stronger', crap like that, but I just-"

"I'm just really... tired of this," he confesses warily, shoulders slumped. "W- I remember so many horrible things, and I-" he breaks off, laughing bitterly. His voice takes on a sort of brittle quality, way too high pitched, "and I can't even talk about them, dude. If that's not the most pathetic thing ever, I dunno what is."

"It does not-"

"Don't say it," Jay mutters, rubbing his temples. "I know, I know, my feelings aren't pathetic, they're always valid, whatever, spare me the lecture-"

"That is not what I was going to say," Zane replies gently. "It just seems that you have answered your own question."

"Gee, which one?"

"I do not know how much helpful assistance I can provide in this situation, but it is understandable to wish certain events had never occurred. However, seeing as we cannot change the past, it seems unwise to dwell on said events if you can avoid it."

Jay stiffens, clamping a shaky hand over his mouth. Something seems to press down even harder on his chest, a heavy sort of weight that causes his breathing to speed up again. Don't say it don't say it there's no reason to warn them this time-

"If you would like to tell any of us about something, of course you are welcome to. It does not to be the whole story, after all. Just make sure that it is the decision you choose, not one you choose because of what you think how it will affect others," Zane finishes quietly, ducking his head as if he's embarrassed.

The stars are still white-hot, burning away some million miles above them.

"Thanks," he says, and puts his hand softly on Zane's shoulder. "I mean, I know - that all makes sense, I guess. It's just- I-"

"You want to?"

"Yeah," Jay starts, sighing, "I do. It's just- it's not just my choice. And I'm pretty much dying already right now, so, as fantastic as making it all worse sounds, hard pass."

Oops, maybe he shouldn't have said that last bit. They'd agreed not to tell anyone about it - even this conversation was cutting it way too close. It wasn't impossible for them to put everything together - they were a pretty smart group, after all, even without their resident inventor and engineer - and Jay didn't really know what he'd think if they did. Fearful? Relieved? Angry?

"That does... not sound great? Dying certainly does not seem-"

"It's called sarcasm, Zane."

"Oh- yes. My memory now accesses the fact that people often speak in that manner. It does seem a bit counterproductive, though. Why not just say what you mean?"

"Shut it, you have no clue how integral to my life it is," Jay replies with a halfhearted grin.

A few seconds later, he remembers something his friend had mentioned earlier, and the grin disappears.

"You know that you can talk to us if you're not happy, right?" he asks, earnestly. Sure, it's not like he could always do that, considering, well, a stupid djin and even stupider magic, but it's not like he needs to. It's- well- he'll be okay, probably. Maybe. Kinda.

Zane's eyes blink on and off again, blue fading in and out. "I... I suppose that I was not quite aware of that."

Okay, they've screwed up way too many times, but this... this is pretty bad. Dang it, how long does it take for them to throw self-preservation instincts at their friend before he freaking- picks them up or something?

"However, will it not hurt those who have experienced the same unfortunate events?"

Dude, not the best question to ask someone wondering the exact same thing-

"It's been... uh, nice, kind of, talking to you. So- I don't think so, and I'm pretty sure someone would say so if it did. Besides, don't we talk about our adventures all the time? It'd probably be better if we... uh, well- heh heh, nothing."

"If we talked about the less than positive elements of them? Perhaps, but I still-"

Maybe it's the fact Zane has always tried to be there for him, or maybe he's too sleep deprived to care anymore, but this is a way too familiar situation and-

Well, not ignoring the issue would be a start.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're family, Zane. We care about each other. And, gosh, that means that we care about you too. Memories are stupid and annoying sometimes, but we have to make good ones too, right? To block out the bad ones a bit, I guess? Kinda, at least."

They both look away from the stars now, grappling for something else to say.

In the end, they leave it be with a hug and a fondly exasperated warning about sleeping, if you happen to need it.

After all, they're family. They don't have to be perfect, or tell each other everything - even if it does take them a long time to realize that, and an even longer time remembering it.

---

The next time Jay startles awake from a nightmare, the sky is still empty - painfully so, like an ache that simmers beneath the surface even when it's not able to be seen.

The hue, though, is a little lighter.

Just a little - the all-encompassing darkness of it is now a navy sort of blue, his star shining a little bit brighter.

It's still not sunrise, not even close - but he'll take it. AN: the ‘sky’ mentioned at the start and end is a stupid metaphor that i somehow ended up liking too much to trash, it’s ‘empty’ because he hasn’t told anyone about the timeline, and Nya’s not included because they never had a chance to tell each other everything significant or even talked about it or processed it on screen. so yeah! if you read this,,, not great thing, can i send you a hug or good vibes or smth? tyy🥺

[saltpepperbeard]

Ravenous ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Well hello hello again lol! A bit weird, huh? I don’t know why exactly I had a sudden surge of motivation, but quite honestly, I’m not mad at it. While the shot I wrote a few days back was a more original idea of sorts, this one was an “anonymous” suggestion. A rather EYEBROW RAISING SUGGESTION™ if you know what I’m saying ha! But for whatever reason, dialogue and ideas started flowing, and here we are! Just couldn’t help but explore Katniss desiring to Spice Things Up a bit. With that being said shjdkhskdls-

Disclaimer: This fic contains NC-17 related material, but y’all been knew. Y’ALL KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GETTING INTO LMAO.

And without further adoooooo...

Ravenous

It’s happening again. Our bedroom seems to rival that of the setting sun, the two dancing and paralleling. Just as the clouds and sky melt into orange, I too, find myself at its mercy. Just as the sun plunges beneath the horizon, so too, do our pelvises atop each other’s. Just as it sets fire to the grasses and trees as it plummets from sight, so too, do our roaming mouths and hands against each other’s bodies.

And just as the sunset is habitual, expected, so is the explosion within. It’s like clockwork. It’s like the mighty star’s journey across the sky. A soft, inviting, and consistent brightness is maintained throughout the day, before utterly exploding into color and passion as ebony surges forth.

The newness and its subsequent excitement must be why it’s so incredibly enticing, so normal in our schedule. To think, I used to be one with the dawn. The coldness, the solitude, and the call for survival...all were my essence. Now though, do I dance and take pleasure in the dusk, flooding with fiery color before all runs dark.

Not that I’m complaining in the slightest. No, I’m a medley of breathy giggles, mewled moans, and messy kisses. The usual, the expected, and the blissful.

So a subsequent shift in the cycle, in the ecstatic repetition, does indeed throw me when it presents.

Losing myself in Peeta each and every night allows my hunger to break free, spilling forth after being locked up for so long. It gnaws, it feasts, and it satisfies, before settling back to a hush, properly quenched. His initial touches, caresses, and kisses do marvels at igniting the starting flames. His following motions and salacious actions work wonders at surging the fire to a roar. And then his sweetness dampens the blaze into finality, into exhausted ashes.

But tonight...Tonight, it’s different. It feels...wrongfully intense.

I am not hungry- I am ravenous. It roars within me as if it’s never been satiated at all. It howls, screams, gnashing for a deeper satisfaction. The area between my legs aches almost painfully so, and the heat surging through my core snarls that it won’t be bested so easily.

Such a sensation almost feels instinctual, animalistic even. And with that notion crossing my mind, an odd picture presents itself within my subconscious. A symbolic representation? Or is it a solution, a suggestion that the deeper confines of my hankering body has pulled up? Either way, it’s bizarre, and subsequently earns a deep blush to my cheeks.

The image of a stag mounting a doe.

It’s something I’ve seen on rare occasion while hunting, a deeply intimate and almost sacred moment birthed from nature’s way. But translating such an intrusive image into our bedroom, into the current situation, and connecting the dots between the symbolism and the craving...

...Oh.

Oh.

My cheeks flush impossibly more so.

What an oddity. Peeta more than satisfies me. He gives me something no one else could possibly come close to offering. He takes me to realms unthinkable, and charts depths once-unexplored. And yet, does my body yearn.

What a foreign desire. I never could have pictured myself in such a position- or...intensely aching for one, rather. With carnal intimacy being so new to me, to the both of us, I never expected my body to erect anything of the sort. But I suppose, the deeper and deeper we traverse in one another, the more and more we’ll unlock. I guess there are still things to be discovered about each other, and complex layers of intimacy waiting to be unlocked...

“...Katniss?”

As if my cheeks couldn’t grow any more fiery.

I must have been quite disconnected, lost in thought and libidinous imagination. My grey eyes rapidly blink to break from the haze, but the desire still careens within. Venturing out from the fog reveals Peeta once more though, his beautiful, bare, handsome form hovering atop me. He too, is flushed, small beads of sweat glistening atop his scarred skin to compliment the fiery sheen within his darkened eyes.

But where there would be normally be a crooked smile, or an agape expression of pleasure, there instead exists confusion, concern.

When our eyes finally meet with clarity, he reaches to softly cup my cheek.

“Hey...” he murmurs, his voice still husky, breathy, “You alright?”

I cannot help but swallow hard. How the hell am I supposed to vocalize such a thing? Is it too taboo to ask for? The idea of...Peeta...taking me from behind?

I’m a mess, shutting my eyes and turning my face into his hand, as if to hide myself away.

“Hey...” His voice sounds more concerned, and a bit warmer. Some of the huskiness has disappeared too. And subsequently, a spark of desperation alights within me; perhaps because the hunger screeches at me to maintain heat.

“Sweetheart-”

Softening sentiments are cut off by a carnal kiss, my body piloting me to fight the dip. I lace my hands around the back of his head and pull his stunned form closer, breathily moaning through the connection. When I feel his lips begin to part though, when I practically taste the confused question forming on his tongue...

I know I have no choice. I know it’s now or never. And if I could stare the hunger dead on, if I could address its call and dive into vulnerabilities with Peeta before...

Surely I can do this too. Hopefully.

“Peeta?” I quickly interject.

I expect him to remain close, but just as ferocious desire pilots me, so too does compassionate concern steer him. He leans as far back as he can with my hands laced through his hair, staring with those inquisitive, stunning blues.

“...Katniss?”

“I...I...”

Just as the first time we delighted in one another, my throat threatens to lock up from anxiety, from fear of the unknown. Just as before, I find it horribly difficult to vocalize my wants. But in knowing that soft and concerned stare, in understanding the eyes that expectantly wait, and in feeling far fierier than previous times, I find the strength I need to produce a voice.

“...Can we...try something different?”

Nerves drive me to bite my swollen lip, as if Peeta’s going to react poorly or something equivalent. But as truly expected, he blinks the concern away before the tension visibly melts above me.

“Oh! Yeah, uh...sure,” he murmurs, beginning to smile despite lingering bits of confusion still present in his brows, “Is that why you...?”

“Yes...”

“Oh,” he breathes, chuckling softly before leaning back in for another kiss. He nestles close once more, our bare forms pressing and creating small hints of tantalizing friction. Be it the throbbing within, or the very present feeling of his erection between us, I break the kiss with quickened pants.

Unbothered now, and in a better understanding towards my desperation, he moves to kiss and bite at my neck. My hips and eyes both roll, the intense lust leaving me less bothered by the various noises sounding from my throat.

Peeta too, must be quickly getting tugged back; I feel him twitch before he softly grunts into the tender skin of my collar.

“What would you like?” he huskily whispers, topping off the question by tracing my bone with his tongue.

Between nerves and the sensations he’s dizzying me with, I briskly shake my head.

“Don’t make me say it...” I wheeze.

I feel his mouth turn upwards against my skin, and he chuckles before drawing forth artistry, painting his way up my neck and cheeks with brushing lips.

“Alright...” he says thickly, and I think I can feel him quivering slightly, “Show me then?”

I tense, but catching his stare grounds me. Beyond the drippings of ebony lust and fiery coals, I can see that beautiful understanding, that adoration with zero judgement. It’s what drove me to explore initially, and thus, does it fuel me once more.

My hands come to rest upon his muscular chest, quivering ever so slightly as I give a gesturing push. He follows my direction without hesitation, moving until we’re both sitting up on the bed. Another bout of hesitance grips me, but upon seeing the sight of him, heavily engorged and nearly flush against his stomach, I break through once again.

My stare manages to break to a necessity then, gazing upon his amputated leg with another bite of my lip.

“Your prosthetic...”

I can see his breath catch, watching his chest heave as I momentarily avoid his stare.

“...I need it?” he whispers.

I can only nod, and he thankfully doesn’t press, scurrying off to retrieve and reattach it. I’m piloted once more; my body seizes the opportunity to get into position while he’s not looking. Though my heart pounds something terrible, though trembles alight in my limbs, I roll onto my hands and knees, poised and ready for what I crave.

Peeta’s to my backside now, so I cannot see his reaction to what I’m offering. I can certainly hear it though, as well as almost feel it, the room seemingly spiking in temperature the moment he notices.

“O-oh...”

I tremble in both deep anticipation and tension, still unable to look at him. There’s a bit of pause though, and right when I think I’ve made a mistake, I feel the bed shift with the re-introduction of his weight. My thighs clench something terrible at his presence behind me, and I feel my entire lower half quivering.

Made even worse when Peeta groans my name.

“Katniss...”

The amount of lust is incredible. I could almost rocket myself backwards upon him. It’s wild, and hard to imagine how I wound up in such a position. But through the salaciousness, through the smoke clouding my brain, nerves still manage to peek.

“Is...this okay?” I shakily whisper.

“Yeah...” he breathes, and I nearly run woozy at the sensation of his hands ghosting my curves, “Is this...?”

I almost move beyond my own control, thrusting my hips backward and placing myself into his grasp. It’s his turn to tremble, and he groans yet again.

“God...Katniss...”

I’m his craft once more. His hands grasp me, knead me, squeezing my voluptuous backside as he would when he prepares dough. And just as the touch readies dough for heat, it too, sets me utterly ablaze.

Unbridled moans and mewls sound from my throat at his massage, my legs spreading wider and my back arching further. There’s barely a connection between anxiety and my ravenous core anymore, hunger almost entirely at the helm.

“God...” Peeta moans again, and such a noise pushes me into raw desperation.

“Peeta...” I whimper in a tone so unlike my own, “Peeta...”

We’re on the same plane. He understands immediately. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just as hungry as I am, made raw by the sight before him.

So he quickly rectifies the situation. I feel the bed shift, before he brings a shaky hand to grasp one of my hips. I’m barely breathing, barely able to process with such deep anticipation. His following words almost don’t reach me, what with the beautifully torturous feeling of his head just barely brushing betwixt my folds.

“Okay...I love you, Katniss...”

I somehow wheeze, somehow manage, those words landing when nothing else can.

“I love you too- AH!”

I’m no stranger to the feeling of Peeta sheathing himself deep within me, to holding him snuggly and tightly in a space reserved just for him. We’ve danced in it and dazzled in each other so much lately that it’s, in fact, almost become something of a second nature.

So it’s definitely strange that just a mere change can have electrifying, incredible effects.

The cry from his entrance was utterly unavoidable; he feels deeper and heavier than ever before. I’m stunned at how different it feels, at the intensity behind it. He’s within familiar grounds, and yet it feels entirely new.

I’m dazed, but my hunger is utterly elated. It sings at the feeling, rejoices, driving me to slide myself backwards against him, swallowing him impossibly deeper.

His groan intersects beautifully with mine, the both of us likely relishing in the sensations. When I dare to ease my hips forward again, I feel Peeta’s other hand reach to grasp. With his hold complete, he pulls me back as he thrusts deeply.

And I already find that I’m quickly losing control, everything working to utterly unravel me.

The strokes, so deep and reaching, quickly earn a stream of incoherence from my hanging mouth. I moan and whimper and grunt a plenty, weaving a tapestry of pleasured nothings.

“Mmm...Oh, God...Peeta...”

There’s also something about this that strangely seems to amplify, something that makes it the most different from our previous sessions: I cannot see him. I cannot see the beautiful, wrenched effort on his visage, nor can I steal the moans from his lips. I cannot latch myself to his tender neck, nor can I run my fingers through his ashy locks.

It’s just the sensation of him within me. Nothing more but his powerful drives and our precious connection.

No wonder it’s so raw, so animalistic indeed.

But perhaps, not mutual.

Where I would expect Peeta to take off, to drive with reckless abandon, he instead remains...oddly consistent with his glides. They’re heavenly, and reaching, but unamplified. In fact, instead of speeding up as expected, he seemingly slows within me.

Such a turn, a difference in the usual chain of events, is enough to whip my head around. It’s my turn to furrow with confusion and concern, squinting through the intense mindfog to finally lay eyes upon him.

Which ends up being a blessing and a curse; the sight of him in such a position is almost enough to send me reeling further. Seeing him kneeling, grasping my hips, panting with reddened cheeks, and disappearing deep within...

A shiver runs up the length of my spine, exiting through my mouth as my voice just barely manages to quiver his name.

“...P-Peeta?”

“I...Um...”

It’s like we’ve switched places, what with him being apprehensive and me existing in a realm of thirst and confusion. Just as before, a cock of the brow and a building question is what spurs the opposite party into explanation.

“I’m...It’s going to sound...cheesy, okay? But I uh...It’s...Different I guess, not being able to...look at your face. Or kiss you. Or...”

He shifts himself a bit as he reaches for my face with a hand, effectively sending himself inward at a deep, torturous angle. It drives me strangely mad, my eyes rolling and my throat resonating with a squeak. It feels so foreign, to be reduced to this. And in my state, in my heightened desperation, I find myself blurting without much control.

“-Keep going.”

He freezes then, inside and out, looking upon me with widened blues. Such an expression mildly grounds me, offering a pang of guilt and a subsequent apology to follow.

“Sorry...” I wheeze, “I...I didn’t mean...If...you’re not...”

I’m a mess with my attempts to breathily stammer. But just as further guilt begins to bud, just as I fear I’ve forced him into an uncomfortable place, he gives such an unexpected and strong jerk of his hips that I yelp into the tense space.

When the shock leaves my system, when the static clears my brain, I’m able to see him beginning to smile once more, a bit more lecherous than before.

“Hmm...You know, different...might not be so bad then...”

“But-”

Again, he tortuously cuts me off, giving another strong jerk and sending me careening.

“Peeta!” I exclaim, looking at him with widened eyes, trembling legs, and a stunned soul.

“Because...” he grunts, softly squeezing and kneading my hips, “You like this, don’t you?”

He shifts then, focusing on slowly feeding himself into my depths, effectively earning a low grunt from his throat. A noise that’s quickly overpowered by my own, an open-mouthed moan as I squirm against the mattress, against his lovely torment.

“Peeta...”

“Yeah? You like it? Hmm, love?” 

My eyes flash at his darkened vocals, followed by a bite of my lip to hush the rolling whimper. Something is most definitely in the air tonight. The sun surely exploded in its descent. We’ve never really been so...raw with each other, so driven and demanding.

But it seems neither of us have any qualms. Even my worry towards pressuring Peeta into an unfavorable session seems to back away, what with his ebony murmurs and expressions so evident. We seem to be re-aligning, re-joining each other on the same plane of passion.

Thus, do I desperately nod, at his complete disposal. I slide myself backwards then, easing until I’m practically touching his pelvis, panting and gritting at the extent of penetration.

“I’ve forever to kiss you..." he whispers.

Please...Please please.

I’m hardly with it enough to question the strangeness behind the newfound begging, simply squirming and existing entirely within the desperate space.

“...But not long enough to pleasure you so...”

Thus, miraculously, do any last bits of wall come tumbling down.

And I’m no longer in our bedroom. I’m within droves of ardent fire. I’m traversing the very surface of our sun. I’m in a place so foreign, a state so delightfully insane, where none have ever brought me before.

All from the sudden, strong, and intense reaches of him deep within.

Oh, how I fall apart. How I deliciously unravel. Being so pent up, so oddly starving, the hunger gorges and instantly sets me alight. Just as it screamed before, I too, find myself vocalizing with such strength.

It’s a medley, an absolutely chaotic medley of passion. Beyond my cries and his grunts, I can hear his pelvis slapping against my back side again and again. Beyond the flashes and shivers in my vision, I can see our bed hammering from the force he’s inflicting. Beyond the heat and pounding stream of blood, I can feel him hitting places so new and intense.

And it’s everything. I love him. I adore him. And I cherish the connection we have, the way we can send each other directly into the heavens. I never could have imagined. Even mere months ago, I never could have imagined.

“Gggh...Katniss!”

His deep grunt coupled with the groan of my name is enough to break me from my overwhelmed thoughts; the dig of his fingers into my hips is enough to ground me completely. I cannot escape the ungodly pleasure now. I am present, and at its full mercy.

And when a thrust hits just so, when a piece of my glass cracks and threatens to shatter, it’s no wonder that my arms fall instantly gelatinous. I cry and toss my head back, sending a rolling ebony wave before my front half descends. I desperately grip the blankets, knotting the fabric with begging grunts and whines.

But it only continues to build, and build, and build, impossibly faster and impossibly deeper. Our souls are tangled, so very tangled, dancing and intertwining and refusing to let go. Naturally, I start to ascend, faster than I ever have before. The fire licks its way up my belly, caressing my jiggling breasts and-

...No, that’s his hand, reaching beneath to knead and massage, emboldened and salacious. My eyes roll something terrible, my hips even more so, more and more of the glass chipping away. He’s snarling, almost yelling; I know he’s so close too. But somehow, just as he always has, Peeta dashes through the chaos and holds me above all.

His wandering hand suddenly juts backwards, racing down my body before fingers find their prized destination. There’s a subsequent bolt of electricity at my core, followed by a heave of tension as cracks spiderweb throughout. I’m on the cliff, on the edge, writhing and seeing it shatter before me...

“Peet-”

The final note of his name shifts into that of a divine keen, elongated and reaching as my wings outstretch. I feel like I’ve never flown so high before. It feels as if though I breach the very reaches of our atmosphere, everything whited out and flashing with a dazzling array of color.

Surely I’m screaming. Surely I’m crying out with such forceful contractions wracking my system. But I can barely breathe, barely process. There’s nothing but this. Nothing but him.

Him- somewhere below, I can hear his desperate groans. He too, yelps like he’s attempting to hold on to the Earth, to stop such a rapid ascent into space. But with a distant, cracking yell, and with another push that drives me even higher, I welcome him into my flying embrace.

I hold onto him so tightly. I fly and dance and marvel in the closeness, in the connection we share. I soar hand in hand, his softness rivaling that of the cloud we pass. Before eventually, inevitability, we must return to a realm more frequented.

I land hard. My form essentially evaporates upon impact. The moment Peeta breaks our connection, the moment he releases my hips, I fall into a heap atop the blankets. It’s no surprise that I’m shivering, nor that I’m weeping, overwhelmed to the warmest, highest degree. I remain on my stomach, limbs sprawled every which way, continuing to pant and ride through the occasional aftershocks.

When the sound of my pounding heart departs from my ears, when I become more aware of my surroundings, I can hear Peeta on the bed behind me, heavily panting all the while. Surely he’s sitting back, likely riding the same lingering effects as I. 

But I need him. After almost selfishly delighting in such pleasures, I miss him. So I turn my head against the blankets, attempting to look in his direction as I reach with a hand.

“P-Peeta?”

Unsurprisingly, he understands. In mere seconds, he heaves himself beside me, flopping down atop the mattress. Though I’m utterly exhausted, and akin to jelly, I hoist myself onto my side and into his arms, our bodies as close as possible without the added element of fire.

And there, I snuggle, I caress, I kiss. I make up for the missed touches. He of course, reciprocates, the both of us tiredly offering all the affection we can muster between our shaking breaths. Soon enough, falling back into our usual patterns, we begin to smile. Then breathlessly giggle. Then speak and whisper sweet nothings through our exhausted exchanges.

“Oh...my God...Oh God...” I wheeze into one of our many kisses.

Peeta snickers a bit then, his hands beginning to softly rub circles against my bare back.

“I don’t...I don’t know what happened...what came over me...” I whisper, shying away to nestle my cheek against his.

He laughs more then, somehow managing to tug me even closer.

“Hooo, well...Whatever it was...I’m glad...I’m glad it did...”

I feel myself blushing, somewhat...shocked by the intensity of my actions. And in considering my behavior, in considering how ferocious the hunger was, it unsurprisingly reminds me of the likely sacrifice Peeta had to make in order to appease. I flush even harder, moving to hide my face against his perspiring shoulder.

“I’m sorry...” I murmur against his sweet skin.

“Hun?”

“I didn’t mean to- I mean, I didn’t...”

I of course, struggle through my words, through my explanation. I’ve never been good at saying something. But my love patiently waits, expectantly waits, continuing to softly rub me through the silence. As usual, his understanding anchors me, and I whimper the truth rather sheepishly.

“It just felt so good, Peeta...”

To my relief, he gives a hard, handsome laugh, rattling our tangled forms.

“That’s all I could ever hope for, sweetheart...” he replies with lingering chuckles, pressing his gentle lips to my dampened hair.

I sigh at the tender contact, but continue to push myself.

“Really though...I’m sorry...I didn’t...want to make you uncomfortable...”

“You didn’t.”

When I huff against his shoulder, he softly tugs me backwards, allowing our stares to connect once more.

“You didn’t, love. Clearly.” He chuckles a bit more, before falling back into his earnest tone. “Like I said, it was just...different, that’s all. I marvel in your beauty, you know.” 

When I scowl at him, at the compliment, he grins even wider.

“And yes, I’m used to seeing your face in this. But thankfully, every inch of you happens to be stunning.”

“Peeta...” I groan, feeling my cheeks flush something terrible beneath his onslaught of tender eloquence. Once more, he laughs, before leaning in to give me a quick kiss.

“I just got to address the less...frequented places,” he continues with a smirk, “Which after tonight, won’t stay that way for long, I’m sure.”

I huff, which again, earns another snicker coupled with a kiss. When we break away however, I find myself staring into those sparkling, warm blues. His expression shifts into something more gentle, more awed, surely catching the earnestness behind my stare. My hands reach up to cup his face, stroking my thumbs against his scarred yet softened skin.

“I did miss this, you know...” I whisper, topping my words off with a kiss to his nose.

“Well, I did say we have forever,” he replies with a growing, crooked grin.

“That’s not long enough for this either...”

I pull him into perhaps the softest, tenderest kiss of the night, one more fitting for the day than the dusk. It’s one I pour all my adoration into, of course having to verbally proclaim it all the same.

“I love you so much...” I murmur against his lips.

Once more, the connection breaks from the strength of his smile, delightfully warming body and soul before the sentiments are returned.

“And I love you...”

There we remain for numerous comfortable beats, continuing to lazily kiss and caress until the last of the sunlight disappears from the night sky. I find myself contemplating what lead to such an explosion, what lead to my desire firing off to such an extreme degree. Of course Peeta would be on the same wavelength, though the grinning question that breaks the silence gets me laughing and shoving his chest.

“You don’t...happen to have further tricks up your sleeve, do you?”

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷ chapter nineteen: when it's too late

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YN'S POV

ATSUMU'S POV

TWO DAYS LATER...

[THE FOUR IDIOTS’ APARTMENT, 6:55PM]

Kiyoomi only watched as your eyes became melancholier, as if it were not already in the first place, the longer you stared at the screen of his phone. Probably rereading his conversation with Atsumu, he thinks. Initially, he wasn’t really planning on showing it to you but just like any other day, you decided to be the whipped soulmate (or more like an idiot, at least to him) you were, all while saying “Atsumu is important to me, should I really leave this apartment while not making amends with him?” He almost retched, is this girl really fixated on becoming a saint? How could someone be this lenient? He has no idea. And so, he showed you– that even after all this time, the piss-haired boy will remain as he is; that no matter how many years may pass, Miya Atsumu will be Miya Atsumu.

And he was the exact opposite of you: he was self-centered, conceited, prideful, juvenile, and so many more that it would take Kiyoomi more than a day to list all the things he detested from the boy. He can only remember how much he loathed the boy upon their first proper meeting; not that he likes meeting new people anyway. Kiyoomi was no genius but he knew, right at that moment, that Atsumu was far from being the ‘knight-in-shining-armor’ soulmate his dearest sister was so engrossed to have.

Kiyoomi also knew that he was not the best brother in the world; hell, he is way too far from being a good one even. He couldn’t care less if you have an admirer from afar (like that Iwaizumi who seems to be around you all the time these days), nor when you finally get yourself a suitable boyfriend, not even when you finally get wedded to someone. He wasn’t overprotective... or at least that’s what he believed. But he was only human, after all– now that he contemplates about it, he realizes that he isn’t really fond of seeing you cry.

“Stop hurting yourself over and over again, you fool of a sister,” he said, clicking his tongue afterwards and grabbing your bags after hearing your father call from downstairs, “Know your worth a little, will you? It’s kind of painful for me to watch you get hurt too, you know. It’s not just mom and dad.”

And with that, he left the room, leaving you to tend to your other belongings and perhaps, say goodbye to this little house that managed to etch itself to your heart. Compared to your childhood home, it wasn’t enough to make you sob your heart out dry. But for some reason, tears still found its way on the corner of your eyes as you remembered the fond memories you’ve made here with your boys – the moment you stumbled upon this house when you four were trying to find a place to stay, the smile on your face when you decided that this was the one (cue Atsumu literally hauling you three towards the agent to settle the down payment), the moving day when Kiyoomi and Osamu brawled for the first time in their lives because they both wanted that bedroom that was the only one downstairs, “to be away from the idiot disease” as what they said. You can only wonder if you could make new memories as happy as those in your future home.

“Ah… you really are a fool of a sister, YN,” you whispered to yourself, wiping the tears away and getting the last of your things before proceeding downstairs, finding your father standing by the front door, arms crossed with a face mask adorning his face (you never really questioned where your brother got his traits, it was as clear as the day), “Kiyoomi is already in the car but I think you should bid Osamu-kun a proper farewell first. He’s in the kitchen. We’ll be waiting so just take your time.”

You nodded before proceeding to the said area, finding the gray-haired with his arms already wide open. Your lips quivered before jumping at him, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“We’ll still be seeing each other at school, you damn gorilla,” he chuckled before burying his face in your neck. You clicked your tongue, pouting at his very much realistic reply, “But it’s different! Eating breakfasts together, going to school together, going home together… and drinking wine until we’re brains out! I’m pretty sure my dad won’t let me do that at his house!”

He cackled, releasing you from his hold and flicking you on your forehead, “what an alcoholic woman! Are you sure you’re going to be a student in a prestige university abroad? You’ll be left behind by your classmates if you keep on prioritizing your wines before your studies.”

“Hah! You’ll see, Osamu. Those red wines will be the reason I even become one of the most famous writers in the world. You better wait and I’ll release an autobiography saying a man named Miya Osamu used to bully me to death,” you huffed, smirking after you saw him stare at you in disbelief. Your smile gradually disappeared upon the realization that the center of your heart was not home… even when I’m already leaving, huh?

Osamu frowned as well, scratching the back of his neck because of the sudden silence that indicated your little recognition, “I’m sorry. I told him to go home before 7 but…”

“It’s fine, Samu. We’re still not in the best terms so it’s probably better this way – a more peaceful way of farewell, you know? No fighting or anything else. Besides, I couldn’t tell him anything about my moving, scholarship, and so many things,” The lad didn’t miss the way you quickly wiped your tears away though. Damn you, Atsumu, why are you always making her cry, he thought.

“I’ll see you at school then, Samu. I’ll miss the dinners you cook,” you smiled, walking quietly outside, and shutting the front door. At the same time, a chime resonated from your phone that was in your pocket. Opening it, you released a long sigh… of relief? of anxiety? You didn’t know.

[Haji, 7:15PM]: I did it, YN. My thread, it’s… black.

You looked up at the night sky, finding stars twinkling as if they were gazing back at you.

Should I start moving on too, Haji?

[TOKYO UNIVERSITY GYMNASIUM, 7:20PM]

For the umpteenth time this week, Atsumu heaved yet another deep sigh, hands weaving itself with his hair to ruffle it out of frustration. Today, he couldn’t care less about the girls lurking around the university gym… because for the umpteenth time this week as well, his twin brother expressed his disappointment towards the boy, leaving him in the said place with the same words he had uttered yesterday and even the day before that, accompanied by a threat this time: “You’re such an immature asshole I wouldn’t be surprised if YN finally gives up on being your friend. You better come home before 7PM or else, I will drag you by your feet with my own two hands.”

Clicking his tongue, he grabbed another ball, gripping it so hard his nails almost left a dent on it. 7PM? He only scoffs. No, he won’t go home yet. He doesn’t care if Osamu gets furious at him and drags him nor if you give up on your friendship; all he thinks right now is that he wants to spike this ball straight onto the other side of the court, make it burst if it was even possible. It wasn’t his fault he got mad at you, he’s entitled to his feelings; he’s right, Kiyoomi’s mistaken… you shouldn’t have promised something you would just break in a span of less than thirty seconds. You shouldn’t hav–

But is it really her fault though? A voice in his head refuted him, or is it just because you’re really an immature asshole who can’t be happy for her?

Of course, it’s her fault, he argues. Immature? Him? He’s almost twenty-two, for god’s sake! He has been living in this world for more than two decades, how could Osamu call him underdeveloped? He swears he’s going to give his twin brother a good punch or two once he gets home.

… But she’s just trying to reach for her dreams, why are you not supporting her? She always does that when it comes to you, doesn’t she? Or have you already forgotten?

And at that, everything went perfectly still. The sound of the ball falling from his hands resonated throughout the quiet gym. Even with just hearing words from something or someone he can’t even identify, Atsumu felt as if he was hit on his head with a ton of bricks.

“E-eh…? W-why… why am I crying?” He whispered, fingers going up to touch his cheeks and furrowing his eyebrows when he felt the dampness of the said area.

Because you know you don’t deserve her. You know that it’s your fault. It has ALWAYS been your fault.

“Shut up,” he said to no one, plopping down the floor while he clutched his ears this time to shut the voice out. As it kept talking, he tried hitting his head with his hand, tried talking over it, tried retorting savage remarks back; however, everything was futile for it kept talking, kept torturing his mind with nothing but the truth.

You hurt her, then apologize, then do it again. What are you playing, a tug-of-war? How selfish of you, Miya Atsumu! Are you really her best friend?

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!” He screamed, his throat feeling as if it was getting scratched from the rawness of his voice. There was no way he was gonna have a voice tomorrow.

You’re so aggravated whenever you think about losing YN, are you sure you’re not in love with her or something? Yanno… have you never thought about the fact that maybe she’s your sou–

“Atsumu-kun! Wake up!” A voice yelled while grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him awake, finally bringing him out of his… dream? Was that even considered a dream? Because Atsumu was sure as hell that what happened was just plain torture to him.

“Are you okay, Atsumu-kun? You were having a nightmare,” turning to the girl who kept her hold on him, he finds Yui, who was looking back at him as if he lost the screws in his head. He starts to believe that he, in fact, did after all that weirdness. After all, who in the world would randomly just fall asleep in the middle of an empty gym then proceed to have a nightmare while on it. Surely, there would be no one except for him. How in the world did it happen anyway? As far as he could remember, he was just practicing his serves and tosses a while ago.

“Yui, why are you still here? It’s getting late,” he asks the girl whose eyes just lit up, for some reason, at his question before lifting her hand up and showing… what? She continued to smile though and waved the same hand right in front of Atsumu’s face, much to his slight annoyance. He wasn’t really in the best mood to play guessing games right now, so he only sighs exasperatedly, “Just get to the point, Yui-chan. I’m feeling the exhaustion now.”

“I told you before that I could see my thread, right? Well, it turned black! Me and my soulmate met up a while ago and turns out, he was a Moira, so we performed the mini ritual, which is so weird by the way, before cutting it. He said one of us has to ‘affirm’ their desire to cut the thread, so I did! As far as I know, based on my previous researches about soulmates, it doesn’t really matter because the ‘gods’ know the deepest desires of our hearts but you know, I don’t really care because I’m free!” She exclaimed, squealing afterwards, and flinging her arms around Atsumu’s neck to give him a hug. But the boy stayed still and gaped because how can someone afford to be happy at this situation? His arms remained motionless at his sides, confusing him; wasn’t he just itching to have this weeks ago? In fact, he was just dreaming about it about three days ago. So why? Why couldn’t he bring himself to hug her back?

“Your soulmate cut it. How can you be happy, Yui-chan….?” Before he knew it, his mouth spoke for him faster than his brain could process. He removed himself from the girl’s embrace, watching as confusion begin to form on her face; though it only took her milliseconds before an odd smile showed up on her face once more.

“Because that means I could finally date you without feeling guilty for my soulmate, silly!”

Atsumu felt like a hundred years had passed in just a single night and yet again, he sighed. If anyone sees him right now, they will probably laugh at his rather pathetic-looking state. Never in his life has he felt this exhausted, not even when Kita Shinsuke would force him to do an unreasonable number of receives and then make him clean the whole gym with the said captain; no, not even that could beat this fatigue and strangely, it makes him miss the captain.

Maybe he should’ve just gone home before 7PM, like Osamu said. He then shudders as he remembers that he still has to face his twin’s wrath.

“Can’t I just go back to being a toddler… like the brats that have no problem in the world?” He whines to himself quietly, relief spreading throughout his whole body as he sees your shared apartment; can already smell the meal Osamu cooked for you four; can visualize the disgusted look your brother will give him once he enters the house, all sweaty and gross-looking. Though, he thinks it’s odd that upon looking at the window of your room and Kiyoomi’s, he finds that they weren’t lit up unlike the usual. Maybe they’re already asleep, he shrugs given that you both love getting your beauty rest as much as you can. Twins, you are.

As careful as possible, he opens the front door, wincing when it makes a sound that would possibly wake up the very sensitive ears of Sakusa Kiyoomi from his room downstairs.

“Don’t bother trying to be quiet, Atsumu. You’re not going to wake anyone up in this house,” The voice of Osamu startles him. Fastly recovering from the mini-scare, he turns to his twin to glare while clutching his chest in hopes to calm his heart down, only to stop when he finds his brother glowering at him with a much worse scowl on his face.

“Samu, I’m sorry. I just got caught up with som–”

“You know, Tsumu, it’s kind of ironic, don’t you think? You always come around when it’s already too late,” Osamu speaks, trying to find the right words to say, “YN and Kiyoomi… they left and went back to their parents’ home. They will be staying there until YN and her mom leaves for abroad which would be in less than a month, right after this semester ends.”

Miya Atsumu was self-centered, conceited, prideful, juvenile, and so many more that it would take Kiyoomi more than a day to list all the things he detested from the boy. He didn’t care if you gave up and break off your friendship with him… at least that’s what he believed. But like Sakusa Kiyoomi, he was also human – and at that moment, as his brother stares at him and waits for a reply, he only stays still. Why is it that instead of the volleyball he was holding at the gym moments ago, it’s his heart that’s about to burst?

⤷ notes. we didn't have internet connection for a whole day and phew.. this was the result of me being bored out of my wits, i guess? and i apologize in advance for the pain that i keep on giving and WILL keep on giving :>

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Untitled | Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Reader, Oikawa Tooru

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

Word Count:  2571

Summary: "At first, he thought you sent him those videos (by mistake) as a prank. And he got annoyed. But as started to text you, he realised how sweet you are, how kind and lovely. And he fell, hard." This was the prompt, tho I didn't follow it completely

A/N: This is very much so self-indulgent, so no judging me. This is based off of a matchup I got from @forgetou that I absolutely adored, and just had to write. Thank you for giving me permission to use it, absolutely angel

-------

It wasn’t that Iwaizumi had anything against you - he didn’t really have any feelings one way or the other - although if he had to choose, he definitely wouldn’t keep you in his life for long. He didn’t even know much about you other than that you were smart (being in the same class as him told him that), but your personality was a bit… much? Extremely immature? Carefree? Naive? A lot of things. Definitely not his cup of tea - he already had enough trouble coping with Oikawa - but at least him and Oikawa had things in common.

From what he could see, you felt the exact same way, never offering him a second glance when he entered the classroom.

So, why had you sent him a video?

The only reason he had your number to begin with was because of a project you’d been forced to work on last year with him; you hadn’t messaged him since, and neither had he.

He hesitated before opening the video; you were smiling so brightly, awkwardly looking around your room for some sort of escape from whatever you were about to say, “okay, okay, you finally convinced me!” You cheered, squeezing your eyes shut and smiling brighter. “This is for all my lovely friends-” Oh, so it’s just a prank. He huffed at his own thoughts; the idea that you were just pulling a prank on him pissed him off “-since you guys say that my singing makes you happy? I don’t get it… especially since I can’t sing,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I- I guess I’ll just get this over with.”

You reached over to the side, grabbing a pair of headphones, they were ridiculously too big for your head, but you didn’t seem to care. A large intake of breath before you pushed away from your desk; your hand shook as you turned on the music, it was a split second before you started singing.

You’ve been such a jerk

since you left last week

You were staring at something off camera, eyes dancing over, what he could only assume to be, the lyrics as you sang. He had to admit you were right, you couldn’t hit a single note, making it almost painful just to listen. Then your smile slowly brightened again, shining within your eyes.

You’re careful with your words

but I’m pulling teeth 

you said this wouldn’t hurt

Bobbing your head and swaying, finally letting any anxiety and ease wash over you. Right now he was more concerned that he could hear each lyric blasting through the headphones, like you were trying to drown yourself out - surely you were going to damage your ears.

Give me cavities

And all of your apologies are only empty calories

You smiled brightly, squeezing your eyes shut but facing the camera. You put your hand on your chest; the impact made him wince, but you didn’t falter in your words.

After all this time

I start asking why I’m staying

were you ever mine?

You pointed at the camera, quirking up one brow as if it were an actual question. The more you wriggled and danced the more your hair flew around; such a pure enthusiasm in every movement. There it was. The childish nature he was used to seeing from you. The one that pissed him off so much.

Are we something that’s worth saving?

every conversation puts me back on medication sometimes

sorry’s just another word you’re saying

He must have been going crazy when he saw some actual sadness twinkle into your eyes; he decided that he was just reading far too into it.

Do I look like her

Does she talk like me?

Your brows furrowed together, staring off camera again. As you sang (read: yelled) the lyrics, there was something more to them. Something more fiery. Maybe you just related to the lyrics. He couldn’t know.

Been feeling insecure

Codependency is hard to break

You wrapped your arms around your body, that sadness trickled in again, there was no questioning it this time. Not even a second passed before you smiled brightly again, acting like there was nothing to be seen. Acting like that was all for show.

When you never make it easy

Reconstructive surgery can’t fix my anxiety

You squished your cheeks together, mumbling the words. He watched you intently as you repeated the chorus. Pumping your fist and spinning around lightly in your chair - a strange mixture of emotions erupted on your face when the wire to your headphones wrapped around something out of his vision, forcing them off of your head. The music blasted freely as you broke out into a fit of laughter, snorting and cackling like a hyena.

You turned back towards the camera when you finally stopped laughing, “so that happened, um, thank you for listening! I love you guys so much.” You winked at the camera, lazily blowing a kiss before the video ended.

Iwaizumi was almost in shock - though that was quickly brushed away by the anger from the obvious prank. You couldn’t really think he was that stupid, could you? He pondered the idea of shooting you a text, telling you that this was ridiculously childish behaviour; that was probably exactly what you wanted, so he chose not to give you a reaction at all.

That wasn’t the last time you sent him a video of you singing.

In fact, you sent one every single day for a few weeks. He listened to each one of them - definitely not feeling more positive and self-assured after each one. There was a theme; they were all mostly upbeat, something you could easily jam and bob your head to, something that gave you a lot of energy. Sometimes you were out of breath after it.

Still, after that wave of happiness came the storm of anger because, despite the fact he hadn’t given you a reaction to his prank, you were still trying to prank him.

Yet there was something so endearing as you cheered and smiled - sure, you were childish, but maybe he could see why people liked you after all. Something so pure about your reactions. Something so unfiltered and contagious (he’d never admit it, but he had started making a playlist of the songs you sang).

Eventually, he stopped seeing them as a prank and started looking forward to them. It was weird; he’d be in the middle of studying and suddenly remember that you’d probably send a video soon, his heart would flutter.

Nothing about your in person relationship changed; you rarely looked in his direction, too occupied with your own head space to even realise he was there. He couldn’t help but feel jealous as you laughed with classmates, brushing their arms, patting them on the head, comparing hand sizes - it was strange.

Even Oikawa seemed to notice the way he flickered his eyes over to you, often teasing him - until Iwaizumi smacked him over the head - that was always enough to stop the setter.

Slowly, he realised that maybe you weren’t as childish as he thought. Sure, innocence was a big part of your act, but there was so much more underneath the surface that he hadn’t realised. You took notes like your life depended on it; you’d nibble at your nails when you were deep in thought; sometimes that concentration led to your tongue poking out between your lips, very cat-like. You had horrible balance but a love for climbing things - that was how you’d ended up with a lot of injuries. You weren’t too good at sports, when they’d played volleyball in gym you fumbled through receives, failed at sets, serves were just as worse, not even talking about your spikes - they were laughable. Even when you face-planted roughly, earning worried cries from friends, you still got back up and asked to try again. He was worried, and intrigued, you had a lot of energy and he admired it.

For two months, you sent a video every single day.

Until one day you stopped.

Maybe you finally realised that the prank wasn’t going to work; or maybe it was something else. Any excitement Iwaizumi had felt for them quickly faded.

You seemed to act differently, too, still smiling sweetly to anyone who greeted you, but past that… everything seemed unnatural. He wanted to ask you what was wrong, to figure out what was going on in your mind; one day, he expressed those worries to Oikawa, “I thought you hated her.” The setter hummed running his hand through his hair.

Iwaizumi shrugged, “I- maybe I judged her wrong, I don’t know.” He glanced back over at you, noticing how you absentmindedly traced the back of your hand. “She… when she gets really happy, it’s… cute. And seeing her like this?” He didn’t like how much he cared about her, it was frustrating. It felt like how he felt for Oikawa, but more intense - like he wanted to protect her from something, but he didn’t even know what it was.

He wasn’t paying much attention, not until Oikawa started walking in your direction, looking over his shoulder and tossing the spiker a wink. He listened intently, “hey, L/N, right?” Oikawa mused, looking around nonchalantly.

A wave of indifference flashed over your eyes before you smiled brightly, sitting up straight, “yep. What can I do for you…? Sorry, what’s your name?” Suddenly, everyone gaped at you - Iwaizumi had to physically stop himself from bursting out laughing - it only got harder when Oikawa looked like you had crushed his whole world.

“Y/N! That’s Oikawa Tooru,” your friend called out. You turned to look at her, then back at him, “you know, the volleyball team's captain?” You raised a brow again, still confused. “How have you not heard of him?”

“This school is massive, you can’t expect me to know every student’s name,” you huffed and rolled your eyes, “what can I do for you, Oizawa?”

That was another low blow; you could have heard a pin drop in the silence, people were still staring at you, “...kawa.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s… Oikawa.”

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question,” even though your face was cheery, the indifference had worked its way into your tone.

“My friend, you probably haven’t heard of him,” he turned and looked back at Iwaizumi - the spiker didn’t think he’d ever seen Oikawa so defeated, “that’s-”

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” You locked eyes with the brunette, smiling slightly, “why wouldn���t I have heard of him?”

Your friend smacked your arm, “Y/N!”

“What? He’s literally in my class and I did a project with him last year. I don’t get what the confusion is.” You pointed out, waving an enthusiastic arm at him - you really knew how to crush Oikawa’s ego - the setter almost looked offended, but also relieved.

“He wants to talk to you.” Oikawa sighed, turning away.

“He couldn’t say that himself?” You laughed, standing up and walking with Oikawa over to Iwaizumi. “What is it?” You asked when you reached him, fingers interlocked in front of you.

“Um… Can I- in private?” This was more unusual, the fact he couldn’t find the words to say to you.

The smile reached up into your eyes, not fully taking over, but enough to show your own intrigue. You nodded, letting him lead the way - your friends were gawking at you, but you simply waved them off.

He led you through the maze of halls until he reached the roof - he was right to think it would be quiet this time of day - only one other person sat up here, and even they were on the complete opposite end. When he stopped walking, you chimed, “well, I’m listening.” You looked so expectant, watching with such intensity as he pulled out his phone, getting up your contact.

“Are you okay?” He asked, trying to find the right moment to turn around his phone.

“Yep,” you cheered, “now, did you really bring me up here just to ask that?” You rolled your eyes but the action was counteracted by the playful smile on your lips.

“I just… it’s- you stopped sending videos.” He passed you his phone, giving you a chance to examine his screen. Your eyes opened wide, confusion and shock danced in your expression. “I was just worried, because you always looked so happy during them but-”

“You were worried about me?” Your voice was soft, almost unsure.

“Well, yeah, I mean,” he awkwardly chuckled, “I thought it was a prank at first.”

“Why would I prank you?” You looked up at him quickly.

“When we did our project together, you seemed like you didn’t like me…” he admitted. “And you reminded me of Oikawa, and it sort of pissed me off.”

“You were pissed off at me for acting like Oizawa?”

“Oikawa.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you waved him off.

“Then you sent me the videos and- I just realised that I was wrong… about you! And I really looked forward to seeing them.” He was uncharacteristically awkward, his heart fluttering slightly when you smiled. Warmth rose to your cheeks, eyes sparkling at the idea of him getting excited to see you sing.

“I… I never actually meant to send them to you, but you never complained, so… I just kept doing it.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck nervously, passing him back his phone. “And!” You called out, eyes wide again with an overwhelming passion, “I never hated you, or whatever it was you said. I thought you hated me so I just… I guess… kept away?”

That news hit Iwaizumi like a truck. The reason you avoided him was because you thought he hated you? He certainly never hated you, though he would admit he hadn’t always been the nicest. It all made sense, why you never gave him a second glance, why you didn’t greet him like everyone else. He had never felt more stupid in his life.

“That and I really liked you before so I was super nervous,” you avoided his eyes, a rush of confidence had overtaken you before you could even think about the words.

He blinked at you. Once. Twice. Three times. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What?” That came out a lot quieter than he wanted, but you heard it nonetheless.

“I liked you.” You nodded, punctuating the sentence with a hefty ‘hmpf’ while crossing your arms under your chest.

Again, shocking news to Iwaizumi. By the time you two did the project together, Oikawa had already had the heart’s of every girl around him stolen. Yet he could never see the way you blushed at him, the second glances you took (though those were all before the project). Damn, you didn’t even know who Oikawa was, not even now when his name was in the mouths of every girl - every girl except you.

“I… I still like you.” You stepped away, running the pads of your fingers over your knuckles.

You could have sworn he short-circuited right there.

It took him a few minutes to get his composure, you just stared at him awkwardly, humming occasionally to try and ease the awkward silence.

“I… like you, too.” He muttered, covering his mouth with his hand. Of course you heard it. That soft smile was enough to make his heart thunder in his chest.

----

Y/N eventually asks Iwaizumi on a date to a volleyball game (because even if she knows nothing, she wants to see him happy)

When Iwaizumi gets to take her on a date, it’s obviously to a karaoke place, because despite her inability to hit any notes, he’d do anything to hear her sing again

Y/N still refuses to call Oikawa by his name (Oizawa all the way)

She starts sending him singing videos again, under the pretence that he sends them back

He complies

Oikawa started to send him singing videos, but Iwa just blocked him for a week

Because how dare he

----

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[thatonetimetraveller]

Chapter 2 - Cin Vhetin - T’ad

22 BBY - 7955

Din woke slowly this time, the beeping of medical equipment audible through the helmet’s audio sensors. He could sense movement just outside his peripheral vision so he sat slowly taking care not to pull at his back… the constant ache of the old wound was gone. Alertness coming back to him as he remembered the disjointed events of the day prior. His mind was sluggish but at least he could think clearly, the too big helmet helping him stay grounded. He was 30 years in the past, in the child version of his body. He flexed his hands and stretched his back, he groaned in satisfaction. He hasn't been able to do that since the injury, his back was always too stiff. Yes, he was definitely smaller. The weight of his red robes registered and he sucked in a breath, he hadn't seen those robes since his parents’ death. He lifted the edge of it under his helmet and gave it a good sniff. Ka’ra, it smelled like Aq-Vetina, the rich earthy scent of his first parents still strong, mixed with the distinct smell of spices on the market. There were other smells too like ash and blood but for once he ignored those, basking in the memory of his birth parents.

The door opened and Helix walked in, datapad in hand. He glanced up when he sensed Din looking at him and gave him a gentle smile

“Hey, kid” Helix pulled up a stool beside the bed and sat, keeping himself relaxed. Din nodded in greeting the helmet wobbling on his head.

“Do you know where you are?” Helix asked gently and Din tried not to let his irritation show since he did attack them yesterday and his mind was still hazy

“A Republic cruiser” He answered and Helix nodded

“Good. Can you tell me the year?” Din paused just to make sure he got the date right since it’s been decades since he last used CRC

“7955” Helix gave him a gentle smile and stood and began to fiddle with one of the medical equipment in the room. Din watched him like a hawk when a thought occurred to him in his still sluggish mind.

“Did you drug me?” he asked suspiciously and Helix stilled and turned back to Din

“Yes. Some weak sedatives and a mild Force suppressant” Din furrowed his eyebrows at that

“Force suppressant?” Why would he need that? He doesn’t have magic like Grogu or the jetii. Helix hummed

“The General suggested it since you weren’t sleeping well” he explained but Din was even more lost

“What do my dreams have to do with magic osik?” He asked incredulously and Helix froze as a scanner clattered on the floor

“Kark” He swore as he gathered the dropped item, shaken; though how Din knew since Helix appeared perfectly composed was a mystery. He turned to Din muttering some curse under his breath then leveling Din with a serious look

“You don’t know?” he asked and Din was starting to get nervous that something was wrong with him

“Know what?” He tilted his head to the side in confusion. Helix closed his eyes in pain and sighed

“Can I comm the General? He would be more suited for this conversation” Din looked at Helix in shock, the short time he knew the medic he was always confident knowing what to say, taking control of the situation with ease. Anxiety rolled in his stomach, but his instincts weren’t giving him any bad vibes so he reluctantly nodded

“Sure,” he said. Helix jumped into action and keyed in the General’s frequency, he picked up a tense minute later

“General, there’s a problem in room 27” Helix said voice level and the comm was silent for agonizingly long seconds

“Copy that” Kenobi’s voice was on edge as he disconnected from the comm. Helix sat back on the stool

“It’s nothing bad, Beroya” He tried to soothe. Din raised an eyebrow and tilted his bucket with a snort filled with disbelief

“I’m not a child, you don’t have to coddle me” Helix sucked in a breath his eyes filling with pain

“Oh, right”

The door hissed open and Kenobi rushed in followed by Kote, Din relaxed at the sight of them.

“Is everything alright vod?” Kote asked in a harsh and caring voice. Helix stood, gave Kote a nod with a small smile, and turned to Kenobi

“General he uh… doesn’t know” Both of them looked at Helix in shock the medic did not hesitate - ever. Kenobi blinked in confusion, then his eyes settled over Din while Kote eyed Helix. Din was so confused. What doesn’t he know? It was something fundamentally big he managed to miss in over 40 years. He watched warily as Obi-Wan pulled another chair from the corner and sat, Kote settled on the edge of his bed patting his leg comfortingly.

“What did Helix tell you?” Obi-Wan asked and Din’s attention snapped to him

“I was given sedatives and a Force suppressant?” he furrowed his eyebrows “I was told it helped me sleep better” Din was plagued with nightmares and dreams that came true since he was a child. Sometimes they remained in his head as an eerie echo or other times they were weird and cryptic but they always came true and left him more exhausted than he should be when he woke. Strangely though when the goran gave his beskar buy’ce the intensity of the dreams lessened, she said it would help him.

“Yes, visions are taxing on your body and mental wellbeing so in extreme cases or with an untrained Force user, mild Force suppressants are given to limit your exposure. Don’t worry it shouldn’t interfere with your connection to the Force too much” Kenobi gave him a reassuring smile and panic was rising violently in Din despite the sedatives.

“General, I think you went a bit too fast” Kote commented, his voice heavy with barely concealed sarcasm but Din could tell he was laughing on the inside. Din’s mind was blank, his hands were shaking

“I-I don’t understand. My dreams… I … have jetii magic? Neret’yc” he mumbled and grabbed the sides of his helmet with his shaking hands caught in his own feedback loop of panic and confusion

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan mumbled while Kote scrambled off the bed and knelt in front of him gently prying his hands away from the bucket.

“Gar morut’yc” He whispered. Din slowly came down from the panic, his mind still an anxious mess but he could think again. He really should stop losing control like that. It was like his usual controls were gone and everything felt more powerful than usual, including his own emotions. It was exhausting and humiliating still, he thanked Kote and turned back to Obi-Wan who looked at him sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, Beroya. I shouldn’t have dumped it onto you like that. I assumed you knew” Discomfort weighed heavy on his heart at the apology but before he could say anything Helix whacked Kenobi on the back of his head. He let out a quiet oof. Terror spiked in Kote as he stared in shock

“Di’kut. That’s why I called you here” Helix snipped, then his face morphed into horror as his words registered and at Kenobi’s bewildered stare “Sir” he added as he straightened fearfully

“I deserved that one” Obi-Wan smiled and patted Helix on the arm. Once the General conceded, Kote burst into giggles, his lingering fear also disappearing from his shoulders. Helix glowered at him

“So… I have jetii magic?” Din asked before the vode could start a fight. Obi-Wan grimaced

“The Force but yes” Din hummed processing the information trying to put the two separate boxes of jetii osik and Mando’ade together without much success. There was something missing.

“What I want to know is how did Beroya miss this for over 30 odd years?” Kote interjected and he had a point. Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought

“Many Force sensitive adults don’t know as the Force doesn’t always manifest with telekinesis, it could be good instincts, faster reaction time, better aim, visions of the future in dreams or just a heightened sense of empathy” Obi-Wan explained. Din looked down at his hand curiously

“I thought I always had good instincts” he mumbled “It feels different now though” Kote’s eyes snapped to his bucked in alarm, Helix’s hand tightening on his arm to keep him in place

“How?” Obi-Wan probed. Din, shrugged

“Clearer and louder. I… out of control” he said, words failing to convey the difference. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath

“Are you shielding, young one?” Din tilted his head in confusion

“I can protect my mind?” He asked innocently and Obi-Wan’s hand returned to his beard in thought then his eyes lit up in understanding

“Was your beskar’gam made of beskar?” he asked and Din bristled

“Of course it was,” he said with a little pride in his voice, his armor was his life after all. Obi-Wan tongue clicked

“Beskar blocks the Force. There are special alloys with a lower concentration of beskar made for Force sensitives”

“It does? But then why would…” It occurred to him that his dreams weren’t as severe when he slept with his buy’ce.

“Val ru’kar’taylir bal ru’ne’vaabir rejorhaa’ir ni'' They knew and did not tell me he murmured in disbelief. Why didn’t she tell him or make him a better beskar’gam? The stab of betrayal spread through his veins, his back aching in phantom pain. He wanted to throw something, anger bubbling up in him like lava, hot and dangerous. Kote placed a hand on his and the lava flowed into Kote leaving him empty

“It’s alright. I’m sure they had a reason” He said but the simmering outrage inside Kote remained. Grogu, the Empire wanted them for the same reason, maybe she was protecting him. The sting of lies and betrayal faded to a throb as he thought it over

“The Empire wanted Force sensitive children,” he said, his voice empty. It made sense now. Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath in pain.

“Are you alright?” Din asked and Obi-Wan nodded though he was still massaging his temple, his blue eyes found Din’s through the visor.

“How about I teach you how to shield? You might not feel as overwhelmed as much” he suggested and Din stared at him

“I can’t be a jetii, I’m a Mando’ad” He declared, his heart conflicted. The wrongness of becoming a jetii an enemy of Mandalore and his ingrained fear of his new and unknown powers conflicted with the instinct - that may or may not be the Force - telling him that it’s right, almost nudging towards that path. His thoughts flickered back to the confusing jetii’kad that Grogu gave him, the blade felt like a part of himself.

oOo

9 ABY - 7986

The Razor Crest was floating in empty space while Din tried to get his bearings and figure out potential allies after the mess on Nevarro. Rage boiled within him at the thought of that demagolka Gideon wanted his child. He sighed, lifted his helmet just enough to pinch the bridge of his nose when the cries of the child registered. They were their usual ‘I want attention’ cries but this time they were quite forceful and determined. Din set a course to a random backwater planet and jumped the Crest into hyperspace. The child was wailing now so Din climbed down the ladder to see what they wanted.

The child was sitting on a box, regarding him with intelligent eyes. Not a sign of their earlier distress

“What’s wrong adi’ka?” he asked as he stepped closer to examine them. Fierce determination radiated from their posture as their face adorably scrunched up in concentration

“Protect” Din sucked in a breath at the sudden thought that entered his mind, it was definitely not his. He sank down to the floor in shock and regarded the ad in wonder, his hands shook.

“That… that was you adi’ka?” he asked, his voice giddy with excitement. He finally had a way to communicate with the child to understand them, love swelled inside his chest. The child huffed in annoyance and concentrated some more

“PROTECT” They shouted in his head and Din’s mind almost ripped in half from the force of it. He took a steadying breath and held up a hand to stop the ad from doing it again but louder. A headache was beginning to form

“Alright, adi’ka. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to protect you” he said regret filling his voice. What kind of a Mandalorian can’t protect a child? The ad mewled in irritation cutting off Din’s destructive thoughts and pointed a shaky claw at him while glaring at him like it was his fault for not understanding. It was adorable and Din’s heart melted at the sight. Din furrowed his eyebrows in confusion once he puzzled out the message the child wanted to convey

“You want to protect me?” he asked in mild horror. The child smiled and nodded vigorously, ears flopping around like a dog as they began to shuffle around. Din’s heart ached in sorrow at their lost innocence

“Oh, cyar’ika” he breathed out, failing to keep his emotions out of his voice “I can protect myself. It’s not your responsibility,” he said as he gently reached out to lay a comforting hand on their shoulder. The ad’s big dark eyes gazed at him with confusion their ears down turning before scrunching up their nose in determination

“Promised” Din tightened his hand in worry and sighed

“Who?” The child gazed at him with sad yet knowing eyes as they pointed another shaky claw in his direction and Din recoiled in shock

“Me? I - I would never ask you to promise anything like that” he said incredulously he would never burden a child with such a promise. The ad’s eyes turned somber at that, their expression the most serious he’s ever seen and it disturbed him to his core. What has this child gone through?

“Too young” They declared their ears drooping with exhaustion and through the haze of confusion Din reached out to steady them. What did they mean he was too young? His mind was filled with more questions than answers from this strange conversation with the child. They finally pulled a cylindrical object out of the many folds of their robe and pressed it into Din’s hand

“Gift” they whispered weakly in his mind before collapsing in his arms. Din stared at the child, sleeping peacefully and then the object in his hand.

“Oh adi’ka what have you gotten yourself into?” he said voice laced with barely suppressed pain before leaning down and pressing his forehead to theirs

“Vor entye adi’ka” he murmured before tugging the snoring bundle into their hammock and shutting the door.

He studied the cylindrical object in his hand. It looked like a hilt of a weird sword, at the top four metal pieces were surrounding the inner part of the hilt like a crown. There was a band of shiny metal that appeared to be beskar curving around the middle of the hilt, two small buttons were nested on the side of the band. Below the dark leather grip at the bottom of the hilt was a cap painted vibrant orange. The leather was worn and fraying in some places and the beskar had some scorch marks on it.

He gripped the hilt and it slid into his hand perfectly, with a burning curiosity he thumbed one of the buttons. The sudden hum and light had him almost dropping the weapon. An orange blade materialized out of the hilt humming with glee and lighting up the interior of the hull with a soft orange glow. Din stared at the weapon with shock, he hadn’t seen anything like it in his life but strangely the weapon seemed to recognize him. It was singing to him Din realized, happiness pouring out of the weapon in waves, how he knew he had no clue. He gave it a slow experimental swing entranced by its joyful orange glow. It was strange the blade itself had no weight so his balance was off and he gave it another swing. The blade cut through the air fluidly humming with delight. Giddiness bubbled up inside him as he gave the weapon a good twirl. The blade hummed with the joy of long lost friends reuniting and Din laughed with the blade. Beeping broke Din out of his feedback loop of happiness barely loud enough over the humming of the blade. Din sighed, gifted the blade one last twirl and gave it a long longing look then thumbed the off switch. The blade died down leaving the room oddly dark and quiet. Emptiness he didn’t notice before registered for the first time in his life. He clipped the hilt to his belt and climbed up to the cockpit just as the Razor Crest lurched out of hyperspace.

oOo

22 BBY - 7955

Someone was talking through the haze that surrounded Din. His memory was clearing and he was in the medical bay of an unknown ship. He blinked in confusion

“Beroya?” The man at the end of the bed asked his brows drawn in concern. The ginger man placed a hand on his, Din jumped

“Did you have a vision?” He asked. His head cleared slowly; he was on a Republic ship, he was 44 in the body of his 12 year old self and he had the Force. Kote was at the end of his bed sat by his leg, Helix was standing behind Kenobi the jetii who just offered to train him. He sighed

“No, just a memory,” He thought back to the vivid memory he just remembered, he had a jetii’kad. Did he get one in the past? Did he give it to Gorgu? Why didn’t he keep it? He stared at his hands in confusion

“Beroya, teaching you how to shield doesn’t mean you have to become a Jedi,” Kenobi said reading his doubts, Helix hummed behind him. Din lifted his head and gazed at Obi-Wan

“But I have the Force?”

“There are many sentients who have the Force and are not Jedi”

“Oh,” he was quickly realizing that knew so little about all of the Force osik stuff. Right now, despite his instincts insistence otherwise, he did not want to abandon his Mandalorian heritage but he needed training to understand his powers better and to be able to protect himself when push comes to shove. He looked at Kenobi his helmet wobbling on his head

“I’ll accept your offer” Kenobi sighed in relief and Kote patted his leg, pride radiating off of him. Kenobi turned to Kote

“Cody make sure everything is set up” Kote nodded, gave Din a smile, and left the room Helix leaving with him

Kenobi gestured for him to stand and sit opposite him on the floor

“So, have you meditated before, young one?” Obi-Wan asked once Din had settled into a comfortable position. He shook his head

“Close your eyes and feel the Force around you. Take a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly” Din followed Obi-Wan’s instructions calming his mind and letting the familiar yet unfamiliar feeling of the Force into him and wash over him. He gasped, he could feel Obi-Wan sitting across from him, his mind similarly calm but he was the brightest presence on the ship. He could also feel Helix shuffling around with some medical equipment next door and the thousands of different yet similar beings on the ship all glowing in his mind’s eye and moving through their duties like a well-oiled machine. He could pick out Kote’s light from among the rest, he was a warm, strong and steadfast presence, the one he would associate with a good leader or parent.

“Good, now imagine laying a wall between yourself and the rest,” Obi-Wan murmured from the outside, barely audible. Din slowly began building the wall in his mind, brick by brick reinforcing it with beskar along the way. Gradually the lights dimmed and their emotions that he’s been picking up quieted to a hum. His own emotions, now easier to separate, were clearer and easier to control from the absence of thousands of other emotions. He felt Obi-Wan pull away so he slowly climbed his way to consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, his chest lighter since he woke up in the past. He breathed out a sigh of relief. And his stomach rumbled. Obi-Wan who was already on his feet smiled good naturedly at Din and held out a hand, Din grabbed it and let him pull him to his feet.

“Vor’e” He thanked Obi-Wan

The door swished open and Helix walked with Kote right behind him carrying a big bag in his hand. Din tilted his head in question, putting a hand on his helmet to stop it from banging against his skull. Obi-Wan smiled at Kote.

“Oh good, you’ve got it” Kote grinned with excitement, his presence enveloping Din. He looked at the bag curiously as he sat back on the bed, legs swinging in anticipation. Kote hefted the bag onto the bed with a low grunt.

“We did the best we could,” Kote said as Din peered into the bag. His heart stopped. There was a whole set of beskar’gam made out of plastoid in the bag. He picked up the buy’ce cradling it in his hands in wonder tracing the edge of the T-visor with his finger. The design was like the armor Kote and his brothers wore but smaller, tailored to his size. He placed the buy’ce aside then lifted each piece out with care and wonder, each piece was snow white - Cin Vhetin - the color of a new beginning, it was fitting he mused silently. He laid them out on the bed in the traditional way he was taught as a child, admiring the full set.

“You could paint it if you want to,'' Helix suggested as he stood behind him. Din tilted his head in thought he never felt the need to paint his armor, then when he got the full beskar set and it didn’t feel right to paint it, the unpainted beskar showing his penance for almost becoming dar’buir. Now though he could imagine the swirling patterns of various designs on the white surface.

“I’ll think about it” he murmured then he hesitated for a moment before turning to Kote. “Uh… could you leave?” He asked and embarrassment coated his voice, Kote nodded in understanding and they quietly left the room. Once the door was shut behind them Din unclipped his red robe, folded it neatly and set it aside, and pulled on the black flight suit that came with the armor. Then he clipped each piece on with familiar ease of weaning armor his entire life and tightened the belts where he felt the plastoid slack. It fit surprisingly well to his new thin lanky frame. The plastoid was lighter and more flexible than his beskar of his previous beskar’gam and he’ll have to adjust to that. He gripped the helmet in his hands and stared at his new face with an odd sense of disappointment, something wasn’t quite right with it but he couldn’t figure out what. Still, it would be better than Kote’s too big bucket that wobbled precariously every time he moved his head. He lifted the bucket off his face and glanced around expecting the room to transform into an Imperial cell but it stayed mostly the same. Not wanting to chance another episode he placed his new buy’ce on his head. The slight hiss as it connected was a comfort he forgot he needed, he sighed as he finally felt safe in his own skin. He knocked on the door harshly to signal Kote and the others that he was done. Kote and Helix walked in and Din tilted his head in confusion

“Where’s Kenobi?” Helix shrugged

“He had to go up to the bridge since we’ll be rendezvousing with the 501st soon” he explained and Kote mock glared at his brother. Din held out Kote’s bucket and he grabbed it his hands shaking slightly

“Vor entye, Kote,” He said gratefully as tears prickled in the corner of his eyes. The warmth from Kote grew as it enveloped him like a hug. He beamed at him while Helix looked between them with a confused frown.

“You’re welcome Beroya” He clapped him on the shoulder still grinning

“How about we grab some food,” he said as he dragged him out of the room he’s been in the past few days. Din’s heart sped up.

“I can leave?” he asked with confusion. He was under the impression that he was a prisoner even if he was a nicely treated one. Helix who was following behind them sucked in a breath

“Of course you can,” he said with some incredulity. Din shrugged half heartedly

“I thought since I attacked your men that I would be a prisoner” He had to keep a tight hold on his new and fragile shields so as to not get swept away by the violent flood of Kote’s and Helix’s emotions.

“Well, at first you were” Kote admitted scratching the back of his neck and Helix shot him a look

“Oh” Din sighed, Kote held up a dramatic hand

“But! You were hallucinating and you apologized and you haven’t given us reason to treat you a prisoner since” Kote explained hastily and warmth spread across Din, he hummed and examined the hallway to distract himself from the strange emotion. The hallways, while similar to an Imperial ship at a first glance, had enough of a different feel to them that Din could differentiate the two. Troopers were walking about hurrying to their destination, some gave Kote a salute and smile, while others did a double take at the sight of Din. Their stares did not affect him since he was used to them when he had the full beskar beskar’gam. There were a few who huddled together and whispered something to the others, no doubt the gossip train had started already. Din sighed, the gossip amongst the Covert was bad since most of them never left the sewers of Nevarro but it may reach a new level of horrible since he was the center of the latest gossip.

They arrived at the mess hall quicker than he expected. Clones were in large groups around the tables, their chatter and the clatter of utensils echoed throughout the entire room. The tables were long white and organized into neat rows though some of the benches were askew and the shouts of rowdy bunch cut through the background noise. Din’s mind tried to puzzle out a way to escape eating but Kote grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the cue, once he realized Din was lingering in the doorway. Din sighed. He stared at the small selection of food, mostly ration bars and some instant meals that were even less appetizing.

“Don’t tell me you’re just as bad at eating regularly as the General,” Helix joked from next to him. Din did eat less than he should. The fact that he couldn’t remove his helmet in most establishments and that he was reluctant to spend more than the bare minimum on food since most of the money went to the Covert and the foundlings - all of that meant that he skipped a few meals here or there. Helix raised an eyebrow at him, a mean scowl on his face at Din’s silence.

“Well, I-” he began to explain himself when Helix held up a hand

“The Force and meditation are not adequate replacements for food and sleep damn it!” Helix ranted as stacked 5 ration bars and some goop onto the tray, Kote snickered

“General Kenobi would argue,” he said with a smile

“The General can kiss my shebs” Helix grumbled with some ire and Din blushed then he remembered Helix’s earlier words

“The Force can be used that way?” he asked in wonder, wishing he knew a better way to stay awake at the countless long sleepless nights he had while hunting. Helix whirled around pointing a finger in his face with a glare, scowl still present

“Forget I said anything” He declared dramatically with a long sigh. Kote was snickering in the background while Helix kept grumbling to himself. Din followed after them knowing that he won’t lose them since he could pick out Kote’s warm presence in the crowd but it felt better to keep them in sight

“I only ate enough to sustain myself because the Covert needed the rest of the credits,” He said the urge to explain himself to Kote and Helix was strong. They reached a relatively empty table and Helix pushed the tray of food towards him as soon as they sat down. He stared at the food with trepidation and Helix sighed

“There is no shortage of food here Beroya” Helix gestured to the food, chewing on a ration bar himself “So eat” Din sighed

“I can’t” He bit out after a moment of hesitation. Helix and Kote exchanged a concerned look and he got the distinct impression of Kote wanting to hug him

“Why not?” Kote asked. Din looked down shamefully at his hands, he already broke the Creed several times first to save Grogu but that was fine since foundlings came above all else. But now so many people had seen him, not just without his buy’ce but without his beskar’gam so can he even be called a Mando’ad? Who was he if not a Mandalorian? His thoughts circled around that question so he clung to the traditions that would reject him in a vain attempt to define himself

“I can’t remove the helmet,” He said, eyes still locked on his hands. He felt the spike of concern, irritation, and shock from Kote

“Who told you that?” his voice was low and angry though not directed at him still he flinched slightly

“No one. This is the Way” he echoed, the once comforting words felt wrong and hollow coming from his mouth.

“The Way?” Helix asked his voice returning to the gentle prod he used earlier when he thought he was dreaming

“The Way of the Mandalore. I can’t remove my helmet in front of any living being or I become dar’manda”

“But you didn’t have a helmet before Cody gave you his” Helix’s voice was gentle and he could feel Kote stewing next to him

“Exactly, I already broke the Creed” He couldn’t say it out loud that would make it real and he was already hollow and directionless. The Covert would certainly not accept him back now if he could even find them

“That’s bantha shit!” Kote exploded and Din’s head snapped up to him

“What?” He whispered and his voice shook in bewilderment

“You just didn’t have a helmet when you got here! What if someone removed your helmet if you got captured? What are you supposed to do then?” Kote ranted “Besides, having a helmet does not make you Mandalorian. Then the vode wouldn’t be Mando’ade” His face was red from anger, Helix nodded along a similar expression of outrage on his face and Din stared at them in shock. Anger not directed at him radiated off of the both of them. Din’s heart swelled with an unknown emotion as he looked back at his food

“I…” he was at a loss for words as Kote deflated

“I’m still not comfortable removing the helmet,” he declared after a moment of silence. His mind whirling with shock. Both of them nodded in understanding

“We understand Beroya” Helix said

“But if you ever feel comfortable enough know that we won’t judge you” Kote finished. His heart squeezed in gratitude and warmth filled him, Din ducked his head.

Kote and Helix returned to their bland meal and Din glanced around the noisy mess hall. Troopers were talking boisterously, some slapping each other on the shoulder or arm as a show of comredradie. He spotted a few not so subtly ogling him but he ignored them. They felt happy and unrestrained. So when the back of his neck prickled with the usual sense of danger Din was taken aback and whirled around a second too late. The punch landed squarely on his bucket, rattling his head for a moment. The trooper had no paint on their armor and sported a mean scowl on his face, Kote sprang up from his seat growling at the trooper

“Slick, what the hell do you think you are doing?” Slick ignored his commanding officer and only sneered at the stunned Din anger rolling off of him in waves.

“You attack our men and then you have the audacity to wear our armor!” He said with disgust. The easy going chatter around them died down to a hushed whisper as everyone stared at them. Kote walked up to Slick with a furious expression and his voice was barely restrained, hard with the promise of violence

“Stand down Sergeant” He ordered. The order fell on deaf ears as Slick glared at Kote with no fear besides the tide of righteous anger

“No sir” he ground out “Don’t you see that he’s just another nat-born pretending to like us, to be one of us” He gestured to the rest of the clones

“Ni ceta” Din apologized as he stood, wobbling slightly on his legs. Slick sneered

“Oh, now he speaks our language too.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm “What’s next? You gonna paint your armor like us too? Is stealing our language and freedom not enough for you?” Slick accused loudly venom filling his voice and being

“Stand down Sargeant! That’s an order!” Kote bellowed his voice echoing throughout the silent mess hall. Din straightened feeling the anger rise in him at the unwarranted accusations

“I am a Mando’ad and I do not steal anyone’s freedom” He declared his voice steady and sure, his earlier doubts gone for the moment.

“Yeah, right” Slick huffed and raised his hand for another punch. Kote had enough and with a swift move restrained Slick bending his arm around his back painfully. He gestured for two clones their armor painted orange and handed the seething Slick over to them

“Maybe a few hours in the brig will teach you a lesson” He nodded to the two clones who dragged Slick away who was still glowering at Din with hatred.

“Alright boy fun’s over” Kote declared to the spectators and the rest of the troopers slowly returned to their meals though the chatter was more subdued than before

Kote sank back into his seat with a tired sigh and Din followed soon after. His mind still reeling at the pure hatred Slick directed his way like he was the cause of all of his problems. But before he could ask Kote why Slick hated him so much, two clones sat at their table, one next to Kote and one next to Din. Kote sighed in irritation and glared at the two clones while Helix snickered

“Waxer, Boil, what are you doing here?” Kote asked, his voice and posture tired with all the bantha shit that happened since Din left his room. Waxer was looking at him wearily from across the table and Din tilted his head in question. Boil, appearing to not have the same hesitation looped an arm around Din’s shoulder and grinned at him. Both Din and Waxer tensed.

“So you’re the verdi’ka who beat up Waxer,” he said with a good humored smile, Din tensed his shoulders. Kote gave a long suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Din opened his mouth to apologize again

“If you’re here to cause trouble...” Kote began

“Oh, we’re not assholes like Slick” Waxer chuckled relaxing slightly, Boil grinned and nudged Din

“Waxer was just too scared to ask the verd’ika for a rematch,” Boil said with a sly smile. Waxer rose and hit Boil across the table his face red with embarrassment

“I’m not!” he squeaked out, Kote tried to wrangle the two brothers to calm down and Helix was outright cackling now while Din stared at the chaotic scene in confusion.

“Why?” he blurted out and the chaos around the table as they stared at him. Waxer seeming to overcome his fear looked at him

“Because you’re good and it’s nice to spar with someone new,” He said earnestly

“Hear, hear” Boil chanted as he lifted his drink. Din looked at them both finding his instincts or the Force were telling him that they weren’t lying so Din agreed with a nod

“Sweet, sparring room 5 after the mission?” Waxer said vibrating in his seat with excitement

“Calm down vod’ika” Helix chastised and Din shrugged his heart soaring at the thought of a good spar since all his recent fights had been life or death situations, it’ll be nice to let out some steam.

“Sure” he agreed with a hidden smile. Waxer cheered, Boil rolled his eyes in fondness and then they soon left after that whispering amongst themselves in excitement. Kote turned to Helix with a raised eyebrow

“You were batchmates with them right?” Helix grinned mischief entering his eyes

“Yeah Waxer and Boil were always a chaotic duo”

“Batchmates?” Din asked curiously both of them tensed and stilled, fear spiking in them for a second but then it was replaced by humor again

“Batchmates grew up together, they were usually decanted in the same batch of 5” Helix explained, Kote was still tense though

“Like brothers,” Din said

“All the clones are vode but yes in a way batchmates are closer” There was a smile in Helix’s voice and Kote seemed to shrink in on himself a haunted look crossing his eyes but before Din could ask if he was alright his comm beeped with a message. Kote grinned and stood all, his fear disappearing instantly, Din tilted his head curiously

“Come on Rex’ika will be here soon,” He said with mirth, Helix stood and Din followed. Helix tossed him a ration bar with a scowl, Din fumbled to catch it

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you haven’t eaten today” he grumbled and Din gulped. Instead of answering he redirected the conversation away from himself

“Rex’ika?” he asked as he followed Kote since he wasn’t told to go back to the medical room

“My vod’ika” Kote grinned “He’d love to meet you”

“Really?”

“The 501st and General Skywalker are a rowdy bunch so I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” Helix said with a grin. Din paused, stunned the jetii who took Grogu away was younger than him so he shouldn’t be here unless he was near human and aged slower. Din snapped out of his musings when he felt the presence of Kote and Helix move away, he jogged to catch up with them.

“General Skywalker?” He asked a bit winded, Helix chuckled at that

“He is one of the best Generals in the GAR besides Kenobi” he added at Kote’s mock glare

“His plans may seem reckless but he has the fewest losses in the entire army. Rex is certainly not bored under him” Kote said with a proud smile

“At least he doesn’t lose his lightsaber every other battle” Helix teased, Kote sighed in exasperation

“Don’t remind me” he grumbled, Din watched in fascination. Helix left for the medbay about halfway to the hangar. They arrived at the hangar soon after that. It was busy, the engines of the landing LAATs and shuttles deafening, hundreds of troopers all decked out in blue armor were milling about the place, chattering amongst each other and greeting the troopers with orange paint enthusiastically. Kenobi was in the middle of the action directing the troopers and the landing crafts. But before they could reach him a clone with a blue pauldron and jaig eyes painted on his helmet approached them. Kote grinned

“Rex’ika” he exclaimed and enveloped the clone in a hug, relief flowing through him, the blue clone returned the hug just as enthusiastically. Once they finished greeting each other Rex glanced behind Kote where Din was standing suspicion in his frame

“Cody who’s this?” He gestured to Din, Kote grinned

“This is Beroya. We picked him up on Aq-Vetina” Kote introduced him proudly and Rex did a double take

“Beroya? I thought you took a shiny under your wing, not a cadet” Rex said his voice filled with incredulity, and Din bristled

“He’s nat-born Rex’ika,” Cody said with a glare to challenge Rex’s protest. Alas Rex was too oblivious to notice

“Why is he here and why is he wearing our armor?” There was no disgust or contempt in his voice instead he radiated confusion as he stared at Din, Kote shrugged

“Because he needed one and General Kenobi wanted him here” Din stared at Kote with a raised eyebrow as he sensed Kenobi approaching with a man behind him. The man was so bright, like a supernova it took him a second of squinting under the helmet’s sensors to really make out his features. He was tall and imposing, growing messy brown hair and wearing black battle armor and robes.

Din staggered back as the image of the man was replayed in his head. Suddenly he wasn’t in the hangar. He was in a large temple, tall spires casting long shadows in the dark night. Everything was dark and muddy even the air was suffocating, heavy with death and tragedy. Terror sliced through him as the screams of the ade tore through the peaceful setting. Blue flashed across the dark sky before another life joined the thousands screaming in agony. The dark robed demon cut through the children with ease, his golden eyes flashing with hatred and fury.

The temple morphed around him with sickening ripples. He was clutching something important to his chest running as fast as he could. Run away. Protect. Hide. He kept chanting. The shadows around him grew, eating up the low light of the moon leaving behind nothing but cold dead darkness. Out of the darkness, the demon materialized, golden eyes dead to the world yet filled with bottomless hatred. Blue flashed across the hall and orange rose just barely to meet it. The colors clashed, their usual magnificent harmony tainted just out of tune. Blue left and with vicious force came down on the weakening orange again and again like a rabid dog. Another violent clash, the orange now sluggish waning in the darkness that surrounded them. Still, it rose to meet every single violent strike with determination. Then the blue cut through the orange with a brutal strike. It fell into two on the ground. The orange light died out with last pathetic sparks. The darkness eating it alive

Din cried out in terror.