#and that she’s considerate that he’s done a lot of hard work for her and tells him to sit down
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queenofzan · 3 months ago
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I think Amanda fully believed she and Sarek were dating for weeks or months before he realized that she thought that.
Like, Sarek is thinking he's doing SUCH a good job in Human Diplomacy, he has made A Human Friend. They do activities together, consume meals together, communicate outside of work functions in an informal fashion. Amanda makes an effort to show him Human culture and landmarks that are more likely to appeal to a Vulcan and is considerate of his different physiology in a way most Humans usually forget to be. She doesn't touch him without warning but still somehow uses body language to convey to other Humans that they are together on their activities. She gives him lots of signs of Human comfort and intimacy without pushing too hard at his Vulcan boundaries. He's Succeeding at Human socializing!
Meanwhile Amanda has like. Introduced him to her parents. Taken him to friends' weddings. Done super obvious This Is A Date activities with him, only tailored to accomodate Vulcan preferences about physical contact and emotional displays. SHE thinks she is doing So Good at Wooing The Vulcan. Sometimes he willingly touches her when they are out in public, to like, keep them from getting separated, or pull her out of the path of danger or discomfort, which as far as she knows is like Vulcan First Base.
But also she is a Human woman they have been dating for months and taking it slow for her Vulcan beau is beginning to grow...somewhat frustrating! A little! Like she enjoys spending time with him but also! She would sure like to touch him more! Maybe kiss him! She would even settle for feeling up his hands the way Vulcans do because she has gotten so preoccupied with his hands since they've been dating, she feels like a 19th century maiden, it's insane.
So she casually broaches the subject of whether or not Vulcans engage in sexual activity outside of Pon Farr (when they're having a quiet evening alone in one of their apartments, obviously, you don't have a sex talk with your very shy boyfriend in public) and Sarek is like. Well that's a very intimate topic, Amanda, why do you ask? Is there a Vulcan you are interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with?
And she's just like What.
And he's like (gently condescending) That sort of question could imply a "come-on", as you Humans would say.
And she's like I SURE HOPE IT WOULD, SAREK, MY BOYFRIEND OF SIX MONTHS, WITH WHOM I WOULD LIKE TO BE PHYSICALLY INTIMATE
And Sarek is like WHAT.
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daydreamerdrew · 2 years ago
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Marvel Team-Up (1972) Annual #3
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writing-for-life · 8 days ago
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Tales from the Flat Earth by Tanith Lee
A few thoughts on the supposed similarities with The Sandman—with actual comparisons (and a summary of the most important beats for those who want it)…
[This post is super long. It contains a lot of different thoughts, that’s why I broke it down into three parts: 1. General Considerations, 2. Boroson’s Claims and 3. A beat-by-beat summary of all five volumes of Tales from the Flat Earth. You might want to read this in instalments, or you might want to leave part three if you are still planning to read any of the five volumes.]
Part One: General Considerations
By now, many of you will have heard of Tanith Lee’s series “Tales from the Flat Earth”—not because the world all of a sudden woke up to a literary genius, but because of a Facebook post by Matthew Boroson in the immediate aftermath of the sexual assault allegations against Neil Gaiman. Boroson now made a further statement that he will “delete […] challenges so he can live”. I completely get the exhaustion of a post going viral—been there, got the T-Shirt—but why not just ignore it? Switch off notifications or comments altogether? Actively censoring only the people with different opinions, whom he even admits have mostly been engaging in good faith, because “he can’t do this 24/7”, while leaving up those in agreement (apparently he can do that 24/7)? He might not have thought through how bad this looks, and the irony of a man silencing dissenting voices and trying to control the conversation really shouldn’t be lost on people. But apparently, it is.
Anyway: I have absolutely no desire to defend Neil Gaiman. As should be clear from my blog, I stand with Gaiman’s victims and have done so since last summer when the allegations first broke. I believe those women, for both personal and professional reasons I won’t go into here. And I believe them, whether some author guy tells me I should or not. What grates on me is that this overshadows what’s actually important here, and I’ll get to why in a second.
I love Tanith Lee’s Tales from the Flat Earth and have read them first in the 1990s, and quite a few times since. For that very reason, I wish people would just read her work without trying to engage in a “gotcha” that is still all about Gaiman and not her. She was a great and talented writer who deserves more than now forever being known as “the woman whom Neil Gaiman plagiarised”. And to say it quite frankly: The sexual assault allegations can stand on their own and don’t need a male writer telling us, verbatim, “I have no difficulty believing the accusations against him. Because I know — KNOW — that he has felt entitled to take what he wants from a woman, without her permission, and without any acknowledgement of her contributions.”
I can’t even begin to say how problematic this statement is, for so many reasons. So all I’ll say is:
There is a certain tone-deafness in thinking a sexual assault claim holds even more weight because a male writer says, “See, he did this, so you should also believe that.” We should believe SA victims. Full stop. We don’t need wonky plagiarism or “inspiration without credit”-claims to give them more weight. These two things shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence.
But all of that aside: Read Tanith Lee’s “Tales from the Flat Earth” because you are interested in a writer who crafted imaginative worlds in a florid prose-style that hearkens back to old fairy tales and Arabian Nights. If you only want to read it for a “gotcha”, I might be able to spare you the arduous work, although I strongly recommend you read it to come to your own conclusions (go to the source yourself. And I honestly wish more people did before they just blindly believe things). Again, spare a thought though if Tanith deserves to be “the woman NG plagiarised” to a new audience, because let’s be honest—that’s the only reason why so many people now read her works.
And that’s exactly why I thought so long and hard whether to even write this post, but there comes a point when people who actually know both works in depth need to speak up about the informational conformity bias that now has us at over 30,000 notes on Tumblr alone, all the while the person who put this into the world seems to actively censor anyone who dares to disagree. I get that Boroson’s claim is what a lot of people want to believe right now, but that doesn’t make it more true. Someone even said that “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because only the result does.” That’s an incredibly dumb and also dangerous statement, but I’ll leave it at that.
Horrible people can create good art. We don’t need to pretend they were always hacks. We have to learn to sit with that cognitive dissonance and can disassociate ourselves from the creator regardless—because he’s an abuser.
Part Two: Boroson’s Claims
With all of that out of the road, let’s have a closer look at all that Boroson alleges in his FB post; quotes are verbatim.
1. “Despite the fact that the main character — a byronic, pale, otherworldly, deity-like character - is the prince of night and dreams.”
Here, we already have the first bit of wrong information. Azhrarn is one of the Lords of Darkness. He is the Prince of Demons. He is evil-aligned. He is not a “prince of dreams”. He is “Night’s Master” because he only walks the earth at night, and sunlight is lethal (oh?) for him. He is really nothing like Dream. One is all about rules and responsibilities, the other is about inconsistency, wickedness, mischief, changing his mind on a whim and treating humans as playthings (which he repeatedly admits himself). You could build a much stronger case for similarities between Azhrarn and Lucifer/Iblis (and Loki if you wanted to go Norse) than Dream, because Azhrarn actually hates the gods, and Lee’s whole series builds very strongly on how he (and then someone else) tries to bring them down. And Azhrarn might be older than gods, but whether he is truly more powerful depends on how you look at it—he even asks them for help at some point. Dream, on the other hand, is more than the gods. They begin in his realm, and they end there when people stop believing. Because gods come from the collective unconscious—and that’s who and what Dream is.
2. “Despite the fact that every time people see art depicting Tanith Lee's main character Azhrarn, they think it's Morpheus from the Sandman.”
This is interesting since the depiction Boroson chose for his FB claim is fanart. If you claim something like this, at least use original artwork, not works that have already gone through 20 subconscious filters. If you look at original art, you get this:
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Azhrarn in the middle, Uhlume (Lord Death) to the right, Chuz (Lord Madness) to the left. And in the other picture, Azrharn in his eagle form. Which is just weird, soz. But that’s why he has feathers on his garb.
Maybe there’s a fleeting similarity in the one to the left, but there’s also literally none in the one to the right. And if you have ever read any dark fantasy of the 1980s and 90s (and even earlier), pretty much the majority of male protagonists fitted the stereotype of “pale, clad in black and byronic”. It was a dark fantasy trope—goths read that stuff in droves (I was one of them). And it became even more likely if the hero/antihero/villain was somehow aligned with the underworld. Which Azhrarn is.
And since artists are always influenced by other artworks and their own mental image of a character, have an actual description of Azhrarn’s looks from “Night’s Master”:
“marvelously handsome, with hair that shone like blue-black fire, and clothed in all the magnificence of night.”
But we also get this when he makes a not so great experience:
“He gazed to east and west, to north and south, and the face of Azhrarn, it is truly said, had become white. Long he looked, and long his pallor increased. A mortal man could not grow so pale and live.”
So we can reasonably deduce that he isn’t usually as white as Morpheus in his main form (I don’t know what else to call it)?
There are many other descriptions of a similar ilk. Is this really enough to say they look the same? Really? Instead of admitting that we might be filling in some blanks here if descriptions are so vague?
3. “Despite the fact that the dream lord's younger sibling is Death.”
That one truly made me laugh out loud. Apart from the fact that Gaiman’s Death is older and female (which one could say was a purposeful switch to “hide the tracks” 🙄)—only the least read people would assume this was in any way new or sensational and “borrowed” from any one particular writer. Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death) are twin brothers in Greek mythology. And the closeness of Death and Dream in The Sandman (both conceptually and on a relational level) is much more of a mirror of that than the relationship between Azhrarn and Uhlume in Tales from the Flat Earth, because in all honesty: The latter two don’t get on that well, which Boroson conveniently forgets to mention. Their relationships are really nothing alike.
Hypnos is also a deity residing in the underworld, and you have to cross the river Lethe (forgetfulness/oblivion) to get to him. Lee borrows from that idea very heavily when she tells the story of Kazir visiting Azhrarn in Underearth. These are myths, told and retold by hundreds of writers over and over again, including Lee herself.
I don’t even know what to say about this one. It’s so thin that it immediately blows away if you as much as cough at it.
4. “Despite the fact that other members of his family include Delusion, Delirium.... They are not gods but beings older than gods, and when the gods die, Dream, Death, Delusion, and Delirium will remain. This family of immortal, eternal, unchanging beings, who each embody an eternal abstraction starting with the letter D.”
There are only two Lords of Darkness beginning with a D, and they are called Uhlume (Death) and Chuz (Delusion). Azhrarn is Wickedness.
There is no Dream, as I already stated. And guess what? There is also no separate Delirium. So wrong facts again. The character is Delirium’s Mistress (or at least that’s the title of the volume), and in that case, we are referring to her as being the lover of Chuz (so Delusion and Delirium are effectively the same person). And her name is Azhriaz; she is half human, half demon (and something else, but that would be too spoilery) and Azhrarn’s daughter. She looks like this in original artwork (sorry for the crappola photo):
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Without wanting to give too much plot away because some of you might still want to read this: There are three Lords of Darkness (or one could argue five—more about that later) in Lee’s Tales, but they don’t all begin with a D—neither if you look at their names (their initials are A, U, C, K and A), nor at their functions (in which case it’s W, D, D, F and L).
Okay, the domains of two Lords of Darkness start with D. Is it really enough to be sure Gaiman borrowed from it, turning it into seven? Or is it perhaps far more likely that this still falls into the realm of literary archetypes? And even if Gaiman did expand on that idea—that’s not plagiarism (which, to say it very clearly, Boroson didn’t explicitly say it was. He just implied it a bit between the lines, and other people who probably didn’t read either ran with it). I don’t think it would even constitute “heavy borrowing”, especially since the characters, their relationships and the stories as such are so, so different.
Why is Boroson’s account riddled with inaccuracies? Why be so wrong in your descriptions of a work you supposedly know so well? I really don’t know. It’s either that he doesn’t know it as well as he says he does (which I can’t imagine, since he’s apparently been going on about this for years), or he purposefully misrepresents it to add more weight to it. Which looks bad to be honest. Or at least as if he’s a bit too taken with an idea and at the stage where he can’t let it go anymore.
5. “[…] description of a character who was clearly the inspiration for Gaiman’s Mazikeen.”
That’s also Chuz. As depicted in the art above, and also here:
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One side of him is young and beautiful, the other old. I’ll let you decide if this is clearly the inspiration for Mazikeen:
“So she beheld the entire aspect of his face, one half youthfully bronzed, one half haggardly gray, the rusty hair and the blond, but it seemed to her it was the most natural face she had ever looked on.”
And to say it quite frankly: Framing it like that is a bit dishonest to start with? It’s not the description of “a character”. It’s the volume’s protagonist. Whom Boroson earlier insisted was the inspiration for Delirium (also a bit wonky that one, as I already wrote, since I bet most of the people who don’t know Lee’s work pictured her Delirium as a woman after reading Boroson’s account). But now it’s Mazikeen all of a sudden? Leaving out he’s actually talking about the same character here looks like wilfully obfuscating that neither of it truly holds water, so he’s picking little bits and offers them without context.
Mazikeen is a visual creation of Kelley Jones btw, so maybe Boroson should also take it up with him? The same could be said to everyone who might feel tempted to shoehorn a certain other character (DC’s Destiny) into this, woefully forgetting that Destiny is not a character created by Gaiman. He has existed in the DC Universe years before Lee wrote Tales from the Flat Earth. I don’t hear anyone complaining that Lee stole Kheshmet/Fate from DC because it would be quite frankly idiotic—these are literary archetypes!
6. “The prose, the characters, the narrative strategies, the mythology, the story structure, all of it: Gaiman found it all in Tanith Lee's writing and never gave her any credit.”
The prose is really hard to compare because one is a novel, the other a comic. I really recommend you read both yourself so you get the full picture, but just two examples here:
Tanith Lee:
“A mile from the enameled walls of the city, where the desert lay gleaming like golden glass, a beautiful woman sat in a stone tower, and she played with a bone.
“Will he come to me today?” she asked the bone, rocking it in her arms like a child. “Or will he seek me tonight? All the stars will shine, but he will shine more brightly. For sure, he dare not come by day, for he would outshine the sun. The sun would die of shame, and the whole world grow dark. But oh, he will come. Nemdur,” said the beautiful woman, “Nemdur, my lord.”
Her name was Jasrin; Nemdur was the king whose city stood one mile to the east. Once, he had been her husband.
No longer.”
Neil Gaiman:
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As someone who’s read both many times over, my personal assessment is:
They are not very alike. Lee writes floridly, Gaiman is often fairly to the point. Even in Ramadan, which is one (out of 75!) issues that closest resembles the style of Arabian Nights (which is Lee’s inspiration), his voice seems distinct to me—as is hers. Lee’s prose always struck me as great, Gaiman’s as good (I always loved his world building more than his actual writing style). I think Lee’s prose is more accomplished, but that’s personal taste.
Characters: I already expanded on it.
Narrative strategy: This is so vague. Does he mean perspective? Point of view? Other narrative strategies like foreshadowing?
Since I don’t know what exactly Boroson is referring to because he likes to keep it nebulous, I really can’t say, but I don’t think the way the stories are told are in any way alike. And where they seem similar (“Night’s Master”, as an example, is told as interconnected stories in the style of Arabian Nights with a throughline. And of course the Sandman also contains some interconnected stories with a throughline, although they are in no way reminiscent of Arabian Nights to me, bar Ramadan), I seriously have to ask again:
Do we believe only one writer utilises these strategies and/or has a monopoly on them? Because there are truly only so many of them to go around. And we could say that Lee’s “narrative strategy” is hardly unique either. This is just a bit silly.
Mythology: Just no. Both Lee and Gaiman use themes that have been there a million times before them, I already brushed on it. Both lean heavily into existing mythologies, with Gaiman more into Greek, and Lee into Near- and Middle Eastern one (especially Mesopotamian/Babylonian—there are some parallels between her characters and deities like Nergal, Sin/Nanna and Ninazu), although they both also use others. But the bottom line is: Both have expanded on long existing mythologies.
Story structure: Again, what is Boroson insinuating here? He is truly the master of vagueness.
To say it very directly: The story structure is not the same. If you look at The Sandman in its entirety, it’s a clear three act tragedy with a lot of Hero’s Journey thrown-in. The fact that it’s told in 10 arcs changes nothing about that—you can clearly make out Campbell’s stages, like Call to Adventure, Crossing the First Threshold, Belly of the Whale… you name it. This is long enough already, but look at Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, and it’s fairly obvious (and no, the hero doesn’t always have to survive).
Tales from the Flat Earth have a throughline in their five volumes, but they are connected more loosely, with the odd referential throwback. Only “Delusion’s Master” and “Delirium’s Mistress” have an ongoing narrative (of sorts). “Night’s Sorceries” always seemed like an afterthought of material Lee would have liked in volume four but couldn’t fit in. They are all told in a way that hearkens back to oral storytelling (hence Lee saying she was inspired by 1001 Nights), and there is a clear sense of an unchanging, but not personally involved storyteller/narrator all the way through who sometimes even offers commentary.
7. “Tanith Lee was far more progressive about Igbtq+ identities, and that was twenty years earlier.”
Well, for starters: Ten years earlier (“Night’s Master” was published in 1978, the first issue of The Sandman in 1988).
Is Tales from the Flat Earth truly more progressive? I’m not sure. Both were progressive for their time, simply because they wrote about LGBTQ+ characters at all and gave them a voice. And to put it in a disclaimer: I don’t apply moral purity standards to fiction, neither do I believe certain things that would be problematic in real life can’t be written about in fiction (and dare I say: I find that take worrying, for many reasons, but that’s a different discussion). But if we’re talking about “progressiveness”:
A clearly bisexual Demon Prince grooms a child to then seduce him on his 16th birthday—in a time when gay men were often still thrown into one pot with groomers and even pedophiles?
A lesbian queen who basically gets cursed to have sex with many, many men because only a pregnancy can lift that curse (!), finds out she is barren and can only conceive if she has sex with a dead guy, makes a deal with Uhlume who then brings a man back from the dead so she can be impregnated and then, via many many twists and turns, turns into [I’ll tell you later if you really want to know]?
I don’t know, but it’d probably be the same people who find certain angles of the Sandman problematic who would also bolt or get outraged at this? And they would 100% engage in the same type of revisionist readings they now apply to Gaiman’s works if they ever found out that Lee did anything wrong. There is a lot, and I mean a lot, of rape, SA and questionable power dynamics in Lee’s work. But it’s also a work of fiction.
8. In the 1990s, toward the end of her life, she complained in an interview that magazines weren't buying her stories anymore.
[edit: Lee died in 2015, so Boroson’s claim the 90s were “towards the end of her life” also reads a bit weird to me—as if he’s consciously trying to appeal to the sympathy of his readers by portraying her as “the poor woman on her death bed”, when she still lived for another 20 years]
That’s a bit nebulous again. It’s amazing how some people never quote their sources. I am near certain that Boroson talks about this interview from 1998, but I stand corrected if it’s a different one:
Tanith talks about her troubles getting published, but she also says it’s a hard time for everyone right now. Plus, her bibliography also clearly indicates she still got published on the regular, and that the amount of works published in any given year didn’t really fluctuate all that much apart from a burst in the ‘70s (and “burst” refers to the difference of publishing four books instead of two per year), a dip towards the end of her life (when her output was probably affected by her illness) and then the sad thing that always happens when someone dies: Suddenly, there’s another uptick.
Someone even went through the trouble of visualising her published works in a graph:
Courtesy of Das_Mime
Does this honestly look like no one published her anymore?
Now, don’t get me wrong: Of course it is a nice gesture if those more successful put in a word for those who find themselves in a bit of dry spot. But to turn this almost into some conspiracy theory is just a bit weird if I’m honest. It’s much more likely that people are simply not on someone’s radar than that they are actively trying to hinder their career. Writing is hard. Getting published is hard, even if you already have a few published works under your belt. Ask me how I know…
These were the points Boroson made that I wanted to address directly. For those of you who want to get a feel if the story as such is actually in any way similar enough to even call it heavy borrowing, I’ll now do a summary of all major story beats for all five volumes.
Part Three: Tales from the Flat Earth Beat-by-Beat
I assume that most of my followers are familiar with The Sandman, but only a few with Tanith Lee. Hence I won’t do a summary of The Sandman, and once again: You really have to read both works yourself to understand why Boroson’s claims are so far out there. I’m more than willing to discuss and answer questions that come in good faith, but I’ll say it outright: I am not interested in engaging with anyone who just comes here to peddle conspiracy theories and platitudes like “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because…” if they haven’t even read the works in question.
Just as a quick hint, because that’s where you’ll find the superficial similarities (and that’s my phrasing it with the utmost goodwill):
If you want to compare the entirety of both works, there’s no way around reading both.
For “Night’s Master”, I’d argue you also need to read the entirety of The Sandman, because in a nutshell, it is, at least at first glance, about the heel-face-turn of its protagonist. You’ll need at least Preludes and Nocturnes and The Kindly Ones, but it makes no sense to read them separately, so…
For “Death’s Master”, maybe read The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because it is partly about a queen who wants to save her land (everything else would be too spoilery, but just so much: The similarities are fleeting at best, and that’s already generous).
For “Delusion’s Master”: Again The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because at its very core we have a love story that gets torpedoed by a traitor. But other than that, said love story is truly nothing alike.
For “Delirium’s Mistress”: Honestly, I thought long and hard about this. I really don’t know because it is so different from the Sandman that I see absolutely no parallels at all. Maybe read Brief Lives, because there is something in there about parent/child relationships. But they are hardly unique in literature, so once again: I truly don’t know how anyone could find similarities here. And The Kindly Ones would be such an immense stretch that I won’t even go there.
For “Night’s Sorceries”: There are three stories that give a bit of context to the rest. If anything, I’d say read The Wake. But that would actually be insinuating Azhriaz is Daniel, and I’m like… no, massive stretch. If it’s just about loosely connected stories that somewhat fit into a greater narrative, read “World’s End”. But if we’re thinking that’s already a similarity, I truly cry for literary analysis…
Briefly about the world we’re in: The Flat Earth basically consists of four planes: Upperearth, home of the gods; Earth (the Earth of humans before it changed shape); Underearth, home of Azhrarn, Prince of Demons and Wickedness; Innerearth, home of Uhlume, Lord Death. Azhrarn’s kingdom, Druhim Vanashta, houses three classes of demons: Vazdru (most like Azhrarn himself, beautiful and prone to change into eagles and other animals), Eshva (basically mute servants to the Vazdru who can change gender at will) and Drin (ugly, exclusively male creatures and accomplished creators of beautiful and practical things). All three demon kind frequently visit earth to tempt and create chaos.
Volume One: Night’s Master
Night’s Master begins with Azhrarn finding a dying woman and her newborn son, Sivesh, on a hillside. After her death, Azhrarn becomes captivated by the beauty of the child and takes him back to Underearth to raise him (and then promptly seduces him on his 16th birthday). Azhrarn then creates a woman called Ferazhin from a flower for Sivesh (because, you know, Azhrarn thinks it’s good sport to sample a woman. As one does). However, nothing can prevent Sivesh from longing to live on earth because he is human, and the decision to leave Azhrarn for a life in the light offends the Demon Prince. So he consciously tricks him into death by drowning (by chapter three).
The next storyline shifts to a collar (crafted by a Drin) from Ferazhin’s tears because she is inconsolable. We follow the collar around on its journey to different owners (who all meet a gruesome end in one way or another). The final owner, the blind bard Kazir, is the only one not to get corrupted by it, and we conclude the first book with his journey to Underearth to give the collar back to Azhrarn in exchange for Ferazhin, whom he loves without ever having met her. Azhrarn agrees to let Ferazhin go if Kazir can answer a particular question, which he can (not going to get too deep into that, apart from: Azhrarn is rattled, and we’ll revisit it at the end of this volume). Kazir and Ferazhin are happy for a while, but as usual, Azhrarn changes his mind, and by the end of it, Ferazhin is dead (a bit of a nod to Romeo and Juliet in there, but that just as an aside). But lo and behold, Kazir manages to bring her back after a while, and “somewhere perhaps, some dark door slammed like thunder in a city underground.”
Book Two of Night’s Master focuses on Zorayas, who survived the overthrow of her father (a king) as a newborn but suffered severe disfigurement. After the death of the monk who took care of her, she seeks revenge for being raped by a Prince and takes back her father’s kingdom with the help of the Drin. And, as usual, she meets her demise through trickery orchestrated by Azhrarn.
Book Three. Azhrarn’s cruel prank on a young married couple goes wrong, escalates and ultimately leads to humanity teetering on the brink of destruction (the remnants of the husband turn into Hatred and wipe out everything). After seeking intervention from the gods of Upperearth in vain, Azhrarn makes, for once, a sacrifice to preserve humanity’s existence. But does he do so completely selflessly? Could be argued, and I guess Kazir knew, but that’d be too much of a spoiler… Suffice it to say, Earth enters an age of innocence without the presence of hatred and wickedness. Until… 🤣
Volume Two: Death’s Master
Narasen, Queen of Merh, is sexually assaulted by the magician Issak. Feigning cooperation, she manages to kill him. Before he dies, he curses Narasen and Merh, declaring that both will become barren. The curse can only be lifted if Narasen (we have deduced at this point that she is a lesbian because she “doesn’t lie with men”) gives birth to a child, but includes a stipulation that prevents this solution: “Your reluctant womb will never quicken from the seed of living man.” After numerous attempts to conceive, Narasen, driven by her desire to save her land and people, makes a deal with Uhlume to conceive a child from a dead man. In return, Narasen agrees to spend a thousand years in Uhlume’s kingdom. Narasen is poisoned shortly after childbirth.
After Narasen is locked in her tomb with her newborn child Simmu, Uhlume arrives to claim her, leaving the child behind. However, Simmu is rescued by two passing Eshva and lives with them by night. Simmu develops Eshva abilities, like changing gender at will. Eventually, the Eshva grow tired of Simmu and leave him at a temple near Merh, where he grows up among monks and becomes friends and later lovers with a boy called Zhirem.
Simmu and Zhirem eventually become separated and somewhat turn into the tools of Azhrarn (Simmu hates Death because he remembers him coming for his mother) and Uhlume, respectively.
Meanwhile, Uhlume and Narasen don’t get on too well—Narasen sets herself up as Lady Death and constantly struggles for power. To get her off his back, Uhlume grants her permission to spend a day in Merh, where she promptly destroys her city (yeah, after all that trouble…). Upon her return, she gradually takes over the supervision of Innerearth from Uhlume and turns into “Lady Death.”
Azhrarn saves Simmu during Narasen’s attack on Merh. He instructs Simmu to obtain water from the Cistern of Life (a little throwback to volume one). His plan is to kill Uhlume, hence bringing death to an end. The well is guarded by nine virgins called the Golden Daughters—Simmu makes use of his gender-changing abilities and sneaks into each of their chambers as a woman and then takes their virginity as a man. With their virginity taken, the well cracks, and Simmu founds the City of Simmurad (populated by immortal humans) with the golden daughter Kassafeh (too long-winded to get into it all).
Zhirem has embarked on his own adventures and eventually returns to Earth as the magician Zhirek. He agrees to serve Uhlume, who plans to destroy Simmurad, perceiving it as a threat. With the guidance of Azhrarn, who has grown weary of Simmu and Simmurad (you see, Azhrarn is not very consistent and doesn’t abide by rules nor responsibilities like our boy Morpheus 😉), Uhlume lets Zhirek destroy the city by submerging it under water after re-introducing death via creating and killing an insect. Simmu seemingly dies at the hands of Zhirek, who casts him into a well of fire. Zhirek retires into solitude, and Simmu is ultimately saved by Azhrarn, who transforms him into an Eshva and erases all memories of his past.
The story concludes with Narasen effectively ruling Innerearth and giving death, while Uhlume spends most of his time on Earth, finding solace in the presence of Kassafeh.
Volume Three: Delusion’s Master
We’re starting with a tale about Jasrin, the young wife of King Nemdur of Sheve. Because she is jealous of her newborn child, she abandons him in the desert, where he gets killed by dogs. Nemdur banishes Jasrin to a tower, where her sanity gradually deteriorates. She is visited by Chuz, the Prince of Madness (the third Lord of Darkness). Inquiring about her deepest desires, Jasrin expresses her wish for her husband to share her madness. Nemdur awakens with a crazy plan to construct a towering structure that reaches Upperearth (where the gods live). Inspired by the legend of Simmu, he envisions attaining immortality. The Tower of Babyhelu, aptly named “The Gate to the Gods,” grows and grows until it becomes unstable due to its immense weight, causing it to collapse with catastrophic consequences: The fall of the entire kingdom of Sheve.
Azhrarn and a few of his demons are drawn to the commotion, and a conversation between him and Chuz reignites Azhrarn’s disdain for the gods, who had failed to assist him in “Night’s Master”.
Hundreds of years later, we meet 7,000 pilgrims on their journey across the desert to worship the gods at Bhelsheved (Sheve rebuilt). Azhrarn is incensed that his sacrifice to save humanity in “Night’s Master” is credited to the gods. Disguised as a prophet, he reveals that a Lord of Darkness (not the gods) is the true saviour of humanity. For this, he is lashed with a whip and sheds three drops of blood. Azhrarn continues with his quest to destroy Bhelsheved but is unexpectedly diverted by the beauty of a young priestess named Dunizel. Recognising Azhrarn’s true intentions, Dunizel bravely offers to sacrifice herself to appease his wrath. Azhrarn turns into a wolf and bites off her lower arm, but when she encourages him to bite again instead of showing terror, he hesitates. Reminiscing about his own sacrifice to Hatred, he changes his mind, heals her with his own blood, and falls deeply in love with her.
We then learn the story of Dunizel’s mentally disabled mother, who was held captive by the assistant of an astronomer (who was on a field trip to observe a comet passing by). After impregnating the girl, the assistant attempted to abort the child by exposing her to the comet’s energy as it passed. The girl was instead exposed to a rainbow of light captured by the astronomer’s magical engine, regained her sanity and gave birth to Dunizel, who was also affected by the comet’s light. Dunizel’s mother raised her but gradually transformed into a fire elemental and ascended into the sky. The assistant gave Dunizel to a grieving mother from a nearby village, who raised her until she was chosen to join the religious cult (like her mother, she is also part solar being).
We are panning back to the love story of Dunizel and Azhrarn. Dunizel gives birth to a daughter named Soveh, who is initially mistaken for a goddess on Earth and grows at unnatural speed. Through the workings of Chuz though, the truth about the child’s paternity is revealed, and Dunizel dies at the hands of an angry mob (she also comes into contact with one of the drops of blood Azhrarn had formerly shed in the desert). Devastated, Azhrarn takes Soveh, whom he renames Azhriaz, to Underearth. Before he departs, he addresses Chuz and declares their relationship as “un-brothers, un-cousins, and now, un-friends”. He also reveals he will go to war with him and considers it a kindness he has informed him in advance.
The story concludes with Chuz finding Jasrin, who is haunting her tower, and releasing her.
Volume Four: Delirium’s Mistress
So if you waited for this to start with all-out war between Azhrarn and Chuz, you’ll be disappointed. We meet Oloru, a court jester to tyrannical prince Lak Hezoor. Oloru convinces Lak Hezoor to take him on a sightseeing tour of Underearth. It’s not going well—Lak Hezoor is torn apart by Azhrarn’s red hounds. Oloru transforms into a “slender rod of yellow radiation, vaguely purplishly limned” and flies towards the island where young adult Azhriaz has been sleeping since her arrival in Underearth (it’s a been a few years). Oloru, who is actually Chuz in disguise, awakens her, convinces her to escape, and takes her back to Earth. And of course they become lovers.
Kheshmet (King Fate) enters the story, just like that, and in no time, Azhrarn arrives and ends his quarrel with Chuz— also just like that. But to atone, Chuz has to agree to live a mortal lifetime, disfigured, without his powers and truly mad. Azhriaz initially stays with Chuz, but he forgets who she is.
Azhriaz, now without Chuz, despairs. She visits her mother’s grave with Khesmet and decides to embrace her father’s legacy: discrediting the gods. She replaces a king who committed suicide and ascends to the status of a cruel goddess on Earth, conquering much of the world who revels in her cruelty. Her teachings to humanity are that the gods care nothing for them: “Remember, to the gods, you are nothing. To Azhriaz, the Goddess, you are only grains of dust or sand.”
Khesmet arrives to foretell a looming war with sea and sky.
And weirdly, that war starts because a god, whom Azhrarn kissed in “Night’s Master”, awakens and decides that was sacrilege, plus he’s also not pleased with Azhriaz’s activities on Earth. The gods consequently hurl three shards into the sun that transform into three angels—the Malhukim of the gods: Ebriel, Yabael and Melquar. Azhrarn holds the angels at bay while Azhriaz escapes into the ocean aboard a special fish-ship crafted by the Drin, pursued by Ebriel and Yabael. Azhrarn fights Melquar in the air and narrowly avoids incineration. Azhriaz escapes imprisonment in an underwater city when Yabael destroys it with his sword. She receives no assistance from Azhrarn because he lies in a death-like coma in Druhim Vanashta and has been usurped by the demon Hazrond. Eventually, Azhrarn recovers and reclaims his kingdom. Azhriaz is still pursued by Yabael, who conveniently undergoes a transformation and forgets his mission in the process. Then pursued by Ebriel, she travels with Dathanja (Zhirek making a reappearance) and ultimately engages in an eternal battle with the angel. Realising she’ll be otherwise stuck there forever, she convinces Ebriel to stop by revealing her plan to give up her immortality.
Ebriel departs, snd Azhriaz (who is actually called Atmeh at this point, but that’d lead too far) seeks out Kassafeh for a bargain with Uhlume (who is in the process of abdicating to Narasen) to become mortal. She reunites with Chuz, who has paid his penance, and they stay together for a while until Chuz helps her with her final transformation into a mortal woman.
Atmeh/Azhriaz approaches death after 200 years or so, and is visited by Azhrarn, who tells her, “Humanity is my plaything no longer, only a toy for those that are mine under the earth. But you, you are her child. You are hers. You are Dunizel. Not mine. Never mine. Though I made you to be my curse upon the world. Though I made you to be myself. You are Dunizel, that I loved, Dunizel who was the moon and sun together.” Azhrarn expresses his sadness over his inability to cry, and Azhriaz responds: “Each word you have spoken has been a tear.”
Volume Five: Night’s Sorceries
I wasn’t sure if I should even go into this one, because “Delirium’s Mistress” always seemed like the final volume to me to be honest, and it concluded the story for me. “Night’s Sorceries” is a collection of short stories that seem connected to “Delirium’s Mistress” and fill in some gaps (that’s why each of them has an introduction that explains where we are, and when). So I will only go into three of them (there are seven altogether):
“The Prodigal” is essentially about Narasen’s reign as Queen Death.
“Dooniveh, The Moon” is written like a fairy tale about a monk from Nannafir. He travels to the moon on a winged horse, and by the end of his adventures, we witness the wedding of the Moon Queen and the Sun King. And that’s connected how? Well, the winged horse was a gift from Hazrond (who usurped Azhrarn) to Azhriaz.
“The Daughter of the Magician,” recounts the tale of a magician who successfully resurrects the soul of Azhriaz. But the child, named Ezail, ends up being offered as a sacrifice to a monster. And that’s connected how? Well, the monster was created as the counterpart of the winged horse in “Dooniveh, The Moon.” But Ezail regains Azhriaz’ memory and lo and behold, Chuz just happens to appear in the reincarnation of a young boy named Chavir. Together, they decide to take the monster with them and embark on a life together.
The main reason I did include this volume is that it somewhat puts the former four in context. The last sentence of “Night’s Sorceries” is:
“Love is also an immortal.”
Which somewhat suggests that Azhriaz is operating on the same plane as Azhrarn, Uhlume, Chuz and Kheshmet. And we already get hints at that in the other volumes.
In “Delusion’s Master”, Azhrarn says to Dunizel that their child will be his feminine aspect. It’s just ambiguous enough, but we also get this in “Delirium’s Mistress” when Azhrarn wonders about love: “There is no such commodity. There is carnality, our plaything. There is worship, and there is obsession. Death you may perceive walking the world, and Fate, and Delusion, too, in a form that I have kindly granted him. But no man sees love, and no demon sees it.”
So while many of the stories of Tales from the Flat Earth can stand on their own, there is also an overarching theme: Establishing another power that serves to balance out the others: Wickedness, Death, Delusion, and Fate—Azhriaz’ four “sons” (cryptically mentioned in the final chapter of Delirium’s Mistress)...
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gretagerwigsmuse · 13 days ago
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One thing I absolutely love about Bradley and Smart Aleck is how whenever she rides his thigh, he bounces her a little, and that just makes her lose it 🫠
Like, I can see Smart Aleck sitting on his lap while in front of his friends, and him just randomly bouncing his lap and she has to take a moment before saying or doing anything. She would be a mess by the end of the night.
Also, in your Christmas party fic, Bradley mentioned using the Theragun as a vibrator. Imagine him bringing it out and just surprising Smart Aleck with it (I've never used a Theragun, I have only seen it online so I'm not sure if this is completely correct)
this took me a minute to reply to because i wanted to actually write something for you! i was actually in a meeting at work when i first saw the message preview on my lock screen and i stg i was blushinggg so hard 🤭 because my god what a delicious thought!
yes! he’d bounce her just a little, like just enough to get a reaction out of her and get a little whimper out of her. to your point i could picture them in the hard deck and it’s a big deal that she came out with them? more below!
but also the theragun would actually hurt which is something bradley would realize the second he turned his on to even the lowest setting haha. though i do think that he’d randomly be like ‘gun me’ and have her do his back/shoulders 🤭
—————-
“well, look who decided to grace us with her presence this fine evening.”
jake looked even more smarmy than usual as you and bradley approached the group of pilots and partners holding court at a corner table. at the comment, bradley’s hands tightened where they were on your shoulders. it was a bit of a crush in the bar tonight, but he had guided you over without issue.
you completely ignored jake’s comment and his follow up about slumming it that night and greeted everyone - bob, callie, and natasha, as well as sarah costigan, whom jake had presumably dragged along. sarah even tossed you a kind smile in return. granted, she was still annoying and slightly condescending, but she wasn’t that bad. at least she didn’t head off to the jukebox and queue up hall & oates’ rich girl like jake did.
you let bradley slide into the circular booth before you and then sat on the end. being mr protective, bradley normally wouldn’t like having you sit at the end of the booth, but he knew you liked the space and ease of a quick getaway with a lot of people.
and it wasn’t that you didn’t like going to the hard deck. you just didn’t like how crowded and loud it could get on fridays and saturdays, which was when bradley’s friends tended to go. normally, the group would get together at the beach or go for a hike or even to another bar or someone’s house to hang out - and you always tried to attend - but their old standby was the hard deck and those were the nights you typically skipped.
you had been there about an hour when everything took a different turn. everyone was chatting and the music wasn’t too loud yet, and you were in a good mood, which was probably helped by the fact that you were on your third cosmo and bradley his fourth beer.
but then mickey and his girlfriend, cielo, showed up, which meant there were even more people crammed into the already crowded circular booth. you got up to give both cielo and mickey a hug and then the two of them sat down on the other side of the booth. which in turn meant everyone scooted down further towards your side.
scratch that - your side was gone.
all that was left was a sliver of space for maybe one of your bare thighs to find itself plastered against the warm vinyl upholstery. bradley quickly noticed your distress and pulled you half onto his lap. he barely broke his stride, so focused was he on his conversation with bob and callie. or so you thought.
the way he had manhandled you onto his lap was done with little consideration to your pink dress - the same pink dress from your first date some eighteen months ago - and it bunched up between your ass and bradley’s jeans. you sucked in a breath.
oh.
you were still covered, still safe from any risk of indecent exposure, but oh it felt nice having your bare skin brush against bradley’s jeans. the jeans that were stretched across his big, strong, broad thighs. did he realize? did he know?
it was nice sitting on his lap; you were content, happy, warm. safe. it wasn’t something you’d ever done in front of other people before; normally, neither of you were this bold, but you weren’t yourself, it was too loud, too warm, too overwhelming in the hard deck. and bradley knew that. he knew you were fussy. he always knew when you needed to get out of your head.
a few minutes went by and you tuned into various conversations and groups, but you eventually focused back on your little group at the end of the booth with bradley, bob, and callie. they were talking about one of the the college football games on earlier because bob was a big sec fan. at one point, the boys got so animated and bradley got so into gesturing with his hands that you slipped a little in his lap. and then -
and then bradley bounced you.
oh.
he bounced you on his thigh and tightened his arms around you to keep a better hold on you.
“sorry, kid,” he muttered in your ear and then went back to his conversation, completely unaware of the whimper you let out.
oh.
that felt nice. that felt good.
you loved when he bounced you on his thighs.
you loved when he let you ride his thighs.
see bradley liked when you’d have to work hard to get yourself off. sometimes, he made it a punishment. it was torture - he wouldn’t touch you and you’d have to work for your orgasm. you’d get so frustrated.
and once you’d finally reach your peak and your cum would streak across his thigh, he’d sink his fingers - his big, strong fingers - inside your cunt and you’d ride them for another round until you’d get rewarded with his cock.
this time the whimper you let out was a little louder, but still for bradley’s ears only.
“you okay, kid?” he bounced you again.
this time your legs spread a little wider under the table and you shifted in his lap. you were getting flustered, warm. surely the sweat was building at the back of your neck, between your thighs -
“mmhmm, just slipped.” you took a huge sip of your cosmo, hoping to cool yourself down. god, this was so embarrassing. why were you getting like this? it was just a bounce. he hadn’t even meant to do it.
please don’t let him find out.
“yeah?” bradley bounced you again and your breath caught. “can’t have that - here.”
his thumbs dug into the tender flesh by your hips, anchoring you to him. you tried to shift, tried to squirm, but he wouldn’t budge.
“th-thanks.”
you took another sip of your cosmo. it was almost done, that had to be why you were reacting this way. three drinks normally made you tipsy, but not drunk, so it had to explain your flustered state and your heightened sense of arousal.
he knew. he had to know. he had to know how wet you were. how your pussy was clenching on nothing. how you wanted him to take you out of here and let you ride him in the car. maybe he’d finger you against the bronco like he did that night all those months ago?
bradley turned back to the group. “hey, why don’t you tell bob and callie about that project you’re kicking off at work?”
“oh. it’s not - it’s not really that exciting -”
“she’s lying,” bradley squeezed your hip, “come on, tell them about the project you’re presenting in london.”
callie gasped. “london? again? oh, i’m so jealous! how long are you going to be gone?”
“just a - a couple days. they’re scaling this project i did in the US for the EMEA market. just a - a presentation.”
somehow, when bob asked where you were staying and if you were doing anything fun while you were there, you managed to give a coherent answer. nearly coherent.
but then you turned the tables back on the two of them and asked if they were excited for their trip to see callie’s parents in bryn mawr. you didn’t know much about the area baring the fact that mary once went out there to interview for a teaching position, but that wouldn’t have mattered anyway since you could barely focus on the last minute details for callie’s sister’s wedding because of bradley’s stupid hands.
the first time he did it, you didn’t think much of it. okay so he took a sip of his beer and fiddled with the glass before he put his hand on your thigh. it was cold, no big deal.
but then he did it again when callie mentioned the gorgeous bridesmaids’ dresses. and again when bob praised callie’s speech draft. and again when they mentioned the welcome party on thursday was scheduled around the eagles’ game.
it was cold and you could feel your nipples hardening and your breath coming in faster and god - could everyone tell? did they notice? you didn’t want them to notice, you just wanted bradley to notice.
feeling bold, you tried to trap his cold hands between your thighs, but when bradley yanked his hand away, you almost lost your balance. and what else was he supposed to do but bounce you and get you settled back on his lap. he growled a warning in your ear.
oh god. you wanted it louder, you wanted it just for you. you weren’t wearing a bra, could anyone tell? you hoped bradley could tell.
you hoped bradley bradley knew.
(you hoped daddy knew.)
the promise of what was to come was getting to be too much. you could have blamed it on the cosmos, the noise, the heat, the number of people, but it really was just one thing - bradley.
bob and callie were talking to natasha now, so it was just you and bradley at your end of the table.
“bubs?” you looked over your shoulder to meet bradley’s eyes and knew he was just as wrecked for you as you were him. “please?”
he cocked an eyebrow, looking entirely too smug. “aww sweetheart, why didn’t you just say you wanted to leave?” all the condescension did was make you want him more.
before you could respond, before you could try and say something clever, he cleared his throat and directed his next words to the entire table.
“‘think the kid and i are gonna head out.”
it only took a few moments to say your goodbyes - hugs from those who were easily able, waves to those who were not - and then you and bradley started meandering your way to the bar.
once again, after he paid your tab, bradley guided you out of the bar with a his hands on your shoulders and a broad presence at your back. you whimpered at the thought of him inside you, your big, broad, beautiful boyfriend inside you, telling you that you were a good girl for him. such a good slut for him. for daddy.
it had been a couple months since you’d first said it - said daddy - but it still made your pussy clench and your heart beat wildly.
the moment you were out in the cool parking lot, you sighed back against his chest. the pulsating music that once felt too loud was now a calming presence as you got further away from the chaos.
“atta girl, you did such a good job with my teasing.” his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close so you could feel how much he wanted you. “you ready for your reward?”
“yes, daddy.”
———————
half an hour later, on their way way out, bob, callie, and natasha didn’t even notice that bradley’s car was still in the parking lot even after the two of you had supposedly left.
they also didn’t notice that the windows were fogged up. or that one of your sandals was on the ground by the driver’s seat door. 🤭
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dragonrider9905 · 10 months ago
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Infectious Love
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Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.
Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.
Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.
Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3
The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.
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“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”
You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.
Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him. 
But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart. 
You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing. 
Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same. 
That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands. 
You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could. 
Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for? 
Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you. 
Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart? 
“So have you reconsidered staying?”
“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.” 
“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”
You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering. 
Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage. 
Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.) 
“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”
“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”
Sheaving his knife, he turned to you. 
“So, what can I help you with?”
“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them. 
“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”
“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”
He chuckled and cut into the fruit.
“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok. 
Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could. 
“So.” He prompted you.
You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”
He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”
“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”
He huffed a little. 
“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.” 
At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved. 
An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out. 
Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better. 
Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh. 
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You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit. 
He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that. 
Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.   
He knew he messed up.
Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door. 
“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”
The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you. 
Kriff. He had to fix this. 
He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship. 
Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.
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Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before. 
Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken. 
He was lost. 
Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it. 
A lost love. 
And it was his fault. 
Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible. 
During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on. 
But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep. 
You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty. 
He saw it. And he caused it. 
And he hated himself for it. 
He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t. 
Turns out he was wrong.  
You did return his feelings and he broke you.
He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that. 
He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt. 
But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold. 
Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality. 
In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else. 
The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be. 
After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her. 
It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice. 
Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. 
He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?
He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed. 
It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…
Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand. 
It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands. 
“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack. 
Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”
He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy. 
Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated. 
You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands. 
A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face. 
Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for. 
It was ‘that’ look. 
You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time. 
There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.  
If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone. 
You squeezed his hand. 
“We’ll find her. I promise.” 
There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long. 
He squeezed your hands. 
“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore. 
You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself. 
A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering. 
“We need to talk.”
You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free. 
Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him. 
“Please.”
You nodded, but then looked away again. 
“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before. 
“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”
You nodded. “Tomorrow.”  
Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead. 
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Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.
There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.
“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him. 
Taking a look around, you carefully considered. 
“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”
“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.” 
With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker. 
“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”
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It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back. 
Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.
“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?” 
Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.” 
You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.
“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.” 
“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”
“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”
Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”
You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 
“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”
Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?” 
Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you. 
“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”
“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go. 
“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”
You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”
“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”
Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.
“I’ll do my best.”
With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.
You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two. 
It was time to bring Hunter home.
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Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun. 
Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had. 
He was prepared for anything.
“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed. 
Your voice. 
Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.
Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”
Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training. 
“Meshla, no!” 
Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side
“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror. 
What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you. 
His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you. 
He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter. 
Your painful cry.
No
Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.
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Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.
No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.
You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.
And your blade found a home in his heart. 
Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.
Hunter!
Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge. 
“Hunter? Hunter!”
Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”
“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.” 
Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.
“Mesh’la…” 
“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.
“Alright.” He tightened his grip.
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Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.
You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.
“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”
You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.
“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”
“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“ 
You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body. 
Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.  
“You’re bleeding!”
Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.
Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.
“You’re losing so much blood.”
“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”
“Not funny.”
“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled. 
With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly. 
“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?” 
You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep. 
Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run. 
The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.
“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.” 
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Hunter came in running. 
“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”
Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him. 
Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls. 
Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.
“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”
Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open. 
“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up. 
“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you. 
“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.
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All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space. 
All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand. 
You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat. 
You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up. 
You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating. 
With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.
You were standing. 
But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat. 
Oh well, you could only push forward. 
Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help. 
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The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding. 
Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!
Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago? 
“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry. 
Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing. 
Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face. 
You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.
“‘M sry.”
Kriff, you could barely speak. 
“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”
“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”
A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened. 
The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing? 
You had an infection. 
Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly? 
This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you. 
You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?
Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.
“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…” 
“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you. 
“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”
“Stay, I’ll get it.”
Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water. 
Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle. 
Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.
“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”
“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”
“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”
“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”
“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”
Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter. 
He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes. 
“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”
Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”
Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.
Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least. 
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Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.
The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt. 
He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late. 
“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”
Silence was your response. 
 “Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”
The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope. 
“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”
Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him. 
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Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk. 
“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”
“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand. 
Hunter fished them out and gave them to her. 
“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”
“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”
“But she needs a doctor NOW!”
The nurse glanced up annoyed. 
“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”
Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area. 
You blinked your eyes open with a smile. 
“Hey Handsome.” 
You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss. 
“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?” 
His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him. 
He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled. 
“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.” 
To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help. 
“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words. 
You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.” 
Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon. 
“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”
It was Nala, your old classmate.
“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”
“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you. 
An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?
He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level. 
“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”
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Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets. 
“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”
With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern. 
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Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way. 
You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.
Hunter injected the hypo into your arm. 
This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out. 
He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.
This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most. 
This one, he couldn’t do. 
“This…is going to hurt.”
“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”
Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could. 
Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you. 
“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow. 
Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes. 
Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself. 
“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips. 
“Of course, would you expect anything less?”
Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air. 
Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain. 
“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”
You smiled through gritted teeth.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”
You swallowed hard. 
“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”
You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.  
“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”
Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.
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Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.
Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.
You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there. 
Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.
You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.
“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.
“I love you.” 
You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again. 
“I love you, too. So much.”
“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”
“Of course.”
Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.
“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”
“Hunter! No! You—” 
He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.
“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”
Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss 
You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.
“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier. 
“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”
When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace. 
“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”
Hunter's face darkened. 
“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”
“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”
Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler. 
“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”
“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest. 
“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”
“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”
Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.
“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”
"The Empire be warned, we're coming."
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Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex
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spotsandsocks · 3 months ago
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Hiii spotty 💕💕💕
🎃 + dawn/sunrise
-❤️🪐
Hi Saturn, managed to use both words here and it got a little longer at nearly 1k. A little angsty but not too bad. Hope you enjoy. Thank for inspiring me.
“Wondered where you went.”
A quick glance over his shoulder reveals that Hen has that kind of look on her face. Buck looks away quickly, he’s not ready to talk but she already knows that, she’s Hen after all.
The unpleasant scrape of metal on concrete makes him wince as Hen settles down in one of the chairs they use up here. It’s clear she intends to wait him out.
“Don’t worry, no one else is gonna join us.”
That’s not the comfort she thinks it is because it only emphasises who isn’t going to be checking on him and they both know why he can’t and that if he could he wouldn’t need checking up on in the first place. Ironic huh.
The edge of the weather beaten brick beneath his fingers is rough and catches at his skin. The texture and prickle of pain gives him something to focus on other than the reason he’s hiding up here.
“Bobby says come down when you’re ready, but that you don’t have to be ready anytime soon, he said it’s ok to take a minute, it was a rough call.”
It was.
“Eddie said you’d be up here, told me to tell you he’d be here as soon as Chim is done with him, we thought, well he thought I should keep you company until he can.
How considerate of him. Deliberately relaxing his suddenly tense jaw and dropping his shoulders Buck breathes through the surge of anger Eddie sending Hen to check up on him generates. Hen wouldn’t need to be keeping him company if the company he should have after a call hadn’t been so fucking stupid that he needed a full check up and time to convince Chim and Bobby that a trip to the hospital wasn’t required.
“I’m fine.”
He can’t look at her while he lies, not that it matters much, Hen won’t believe him anyway, hell he doesn’t believe him and she’s a lot smarter than he is.
He hears her snort of amusement and she doesn’t even try to hide the sacrasam in her voice,
“Oh I can tell. Totally fine.”
Eyes fixed firmly on what little of the horizon he can see through the LA skyline, the changing quality of light makes it clear that sunrise is just around the corner, a new day is beckoning. It’s a new day that might not have had Eddie in it.
He shuts his eyes but that’s no help because he just sees it all again. The chain of events that rushed past him and led to the accident.
“How’s he doing?”
Addressing the question to the air he doesn’t need to see her face to know what expression is on it.
“It’s not actually as bad as it looked, most of the blood wasn’t even his.”
The words spark another memory and he uses techniques he’s been taught to fight off a fierce wave of nausea. He changes the subject. It’s easier that way.
“I like it up here. It’s quiet. Sometimes I come up and watch the sunrise when I can’t sleep.”
She lets him have a moment of peace then breaks it.
“He didn’t mean to scare anyone, especially you, you know that right?”
He keeps his eyes on the approaching dawn and stays quiet.
“It’s our job. You know that too.”
It is. He does. Doesn’t make it any easier.
“You’ve done the same. Worse even.”
Also true. Also unhelpful. He knows how to spell hypocrite with only four letters without her help.
“It’s going to be hard, you both knew that, but it’ll be harder if you’re not there when it matters. I know that much.”
Her words hit him hard. What if he hadn’t been there. What if they had moved to different shifts or worse stations. What if he’d heard about it later and it hadn’t worked out as well as it had. What if he’d always have to wonder if he could have saved his husband if he’d been there.
Well he was there and he’d stayed calm even if he’d been more terrified than he’d ever been. He’d done what they promised Bobby they’d do. Their job. He’d listened to his Captain, followed his commands. He’d done exactly what Bobby had said. He’d helped get Eddie out of the mess he was in.
It becomes a little easier to breathe.
“Cap says you handled it well. Did your job. He’s proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you too.”
He turns his back on the sunrise because it’s not Hen’s voice this time. His eyes fall on the grazes on his cheek, the deeper cut on his forehead that Chim has treated. He notes every one of the bruises forming on the skin that’s visible and knows there will be more under his clothes that he’ll check later. He looks tired and worried and he’s still far more beautiful than any dawn Buck has ever seen.
Hen’s vanished. It’s just him and his husband, dealing with the aftermath of their first real trauma since they got together.
“Am I forgiven?”
He doesn’t answer just crosses the rooftop to him as fast as he can and holds on, probably too tightly judging by the small sound he makes but Eddie hugs back just as tightly regardless.
“You did your job. Nothing to forgive.”
Eddie kisses his cheek softly, the tension in him vanishing. He sounds relieved.
“So did you, I’m glad you were there.”
He’s not ready to let go yet, and Eddie understands that, so they stay there a while longer, holding each other both remembering the day they shook hands and agreed they could maybe have each other's back.
Today wasn’t the first time they kept that promise and it won’t be the last, it will be hard for them both but they belong beside each other and Buck wouldn’t have it any other way. No matter the cost.
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eggluverz · 1 year ago
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danheng and reader are interns at the same company and there’s one sided beef from reader’s end cuz they’re trying to compete with him but he’s clueless and just thinks she’s hardworking and cute 😭
— THE INTERNS
In which you view your internship as a competition and Dan Heng is simply attracted to your hard work and determination.
PAIRING. dan heng x f!reader
WORD COUNT. 1788
GENRE. modern au. rivals? to lovers?
NOTE. ty anon for this super fun request!! <3 clueless dan heng the loml… and reader is so chaotic ngl alsjdkdl i hope u enjoy !! ^-^
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“Can somebody handle the emails from the Realm-Keeping Commission?” Mr. Yang asked as he rushed through the intern’s cubicle area. He had a cup of tea in one hand and a handful of folders in the other. “They’ve had a recent breach of contract issue so we should be getting an influx shortly.”
“I can handle it!” you immediately spoke up, sparing your cubicle-mate a brief glance. You had a smile on your face but your eyes were urging him not to butt in.
Dan Heng smiled back. “I’ll help her.”
“Great.” Mr. Yang nodded in appreciation. “We have such hard-working interns this year.“
Your eye twitched as you replied, “Right. Great.”
Once the intern director left, you turned to glare at Dan Heng. He was nonchalantly typing on his computer, no doubt responding to the Commission’s emails already. A job that you should’ve been doing alone. Alongside a million other things that naturally came with being an unpaid intern.
You wanted to prove yourself here. The Astral Express was well known in the industry and you wanted nothing more than a job offer after the internship. But how could you possibly secure that when Dan Heng constantly stole your shine? You had to keep pushing. Keep striving to do more and impress your bosses.
“Hey, Y/N,” said Dan Heng. “If you have too much on your plate, I can take care of the emails today.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you frowned in indignation. “You think I can’t handle it?”
He titled his head to the side. The innocent look on his face made you more upset. You couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or if he truly believed you were someone pitiful who needed constant help.
“Of course you can handle it,” he reassured. “I don’t doubt that. I just don’t want you to take on too much of the workload. I’ve noticed you push yourself quite a lot.”
You shook your head. “I’m not pushing myself too much. I can do it.”
Dan Heng’s gaze softened. “You know yourself best. But I just hope you don’t overwork yourself too hard. We’re only unpaid interns, remember.”
You puffed your cheeks indignantly. Of course he could say something like that and still be a top performer. “Thanks for the consideration, but don’t worry about me. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I better get back to work.”
He only nodded in response.
As you started scanning through the emails on your computer, responding to the ones you have already finished, you felt Dan Heng still looking at you. You turned your face away from his desk so you wouldn’t be directly in his field of vision, unsure why he was staring but not really wanting to find out. Besides, you had more important things to get to. How could you possibly get more work done than Dan Heng if you were too busy worrying about why he kept looking at you?
Perhaps his innocence was a facade and he was playing mind games to slow you down.
With a huff of determination, you worked extra fast, not wanting to let his plan succeed. He’d have to do better than that to win.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
It was your lunch break the next day and for the first time since you started (except for those times Mr. Yang wanted to take the interns out for lunch), you were not eating at your desk to work through the lunch period.
Apparently, HR was visiting the office so you all had to follow all the policies, no matter how silly anyone found them.
Instead of your desk, you were eating at a shaded seating area outside of the office. If you weren’t going to work through your break, you might as well enjoy it and get a breath of fresh air while you were at it. With your high ambition and willingness to push yourself for this internship, you were aware it probably seemed like you were a workaholic of sorts. That wasn’t exactly true.
You saw the important of work-life balance and valued it, but you also figured an internship is where you were supposed to work extra hard. Then, once you secured the job, you would be free to relax.
You took a bite of your sandwich you packed as you stared off at the gently swaying trees in the distance.
“Hey.” You almost jumped at the sudden sound. “Can I join you?”
You slowly turned towards Dan Heng, blinking. First, he tormented you in the office as an intern who provided ample competition. Now, he wanted to torment you during your lunch too?
Despite your inner thoughts, you didn’t want to be rude. Deep down you knew he was also just an intern doing his best. You just had to do better.
“Sure,” you acknowledged. “Have a seat, nemesis.” The words escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I mean… Dan Heng…”
His brows furrowed. “I find it hard to believe those two words could get confused so easily.”
You cleared your throat. “Not sure what you mean.” Before Dan Heng could respond, you changed the subject. “What did you bring for lunch?”
As he sat next to you, he showed you his opened tupperware. It contained the yummiest smelling food with very neat presentation. You figured it probably tasted even better than it smelled or looked.
“I packed a bento box for today.”
You looked down at your soggy sandwich. Was even lunch a competition to him? Did he have to be the best at everything? You vowed to look up the most intricate lunch recipe and show it off to him once you made it.
He looked at your sandwich wordlessly before taking a bite of tender meat.
Your face burned in shame.
Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow you’d show him.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
Today, your internship started around noon. It wasn’t a whole day of work and you knew fully well you didn’t need to pack lunch. Still, you stayed up all night perfecting this recipe and you had to show Dan Heng you were worthy competition as well. You even made enough servings to pack a meal for Dan Heng to try too.
Towards the middle of your shift, you walked over to his desk.
He paused his typing and looked up at you. “Can I help you?”
You held out a tupperware of your homemade food. “Look. I made this.”
Dan Heng’s eyes widened as he cautiously took the container from your hands. “For me?”
“Yeah. I saw your bento box yesterday and wanted to prove that I can also cook! Just like I can do all the work we’re assigned!”
Confusion was written all over his face but he still managed to smile. “First, thank you for making this for me.”
You looked at him, equally confused. Why did he sound so sincere? You simply wanted to prove a point. Not do something out of the kindness of your heart.
“Second,” he continued, “I do agree you can do all the work we’re given. Have I made you feel like I believe otherwise?”
“Not exactly… It’s just you keep offering to help me even when I say I’ll do it!” you explained passionately. “You keep trying to steal my work and do more than me!”
Dan Heng blinked, mouth opening then closing. He opened his mouth once more, trying again. “I wasn’t aware you viewed it as me stealing your work.” He rested his chin on his hand as he thought things through. “I didn’t want you overexerting yourself so I was only trying to help ease your workload… I’m sorry for undermining your hard work.”
“You’re not doing it on purpose?”
“No. I admire your determination and how you always step up to the task— I would never want to take away from that,” he said earnestly. His stare was unwavering as he looked into your eyes. “I more than admire it, actually. I find it quite attractive even.”
You gaped at him, unmoving. “Huh?”
“Attractive, endearing, cute… Do you need more synonyms?”
“Me?” You pointed at yourself.
Dan Heng nodded. “Well, I was referring to your work ethic. But yes. You as well.”
You bashfully stood up straighter. “You’re not too bad yourself, I suppose.”
That wasn’t a lie. You did find Dan Heng rather attractive. His hair was dark and messy, falling around his eyes in a way you could only describe as perfectly framing the vibrant blues. He had a pretty face and a serious demeanor that initially drew you to him— Until he started competing (as you saw it, at least) with you in your internship.
As you stared at each other in silence, Mr. Yang came in with a stack of papers. “Good afternoon, everyone. Can someone run an audit of the company’s stocks?”
You jumped up, startled. You didn’t except to be interrupted like that, but you quickly regained your composure, rushing over to him to grab the papers. A part of you was thankful for the distraction, but another part of you wanted to see where it would’ve lead. “I can do the audit!”
“Great, thank you!” he said in acknowledgment before rushing back out.
Once Mr. Yang left, Dan Heng turned to you and said, “Let me know if you need any help. I’m here if you need.”
You smiled. Now that you knew he wasn’t trying to best you, you were much more open to the idea of working together. “Sure, I’d love some help.” You paused and Dan Heng raised one brow. Though it came from the heart and the sentiment was there, you both knew it wasn’t completely true. You still did want to be the very best after all. “Well… You can help, but only a little though.”
Dan Heng laughed, accepting the small stack of papers you gave him, not even one fourth as tall as your pile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
You hummed in agreement. Before focusing on your work, you thought of one small thing to ask him. “Hey, Dan Heng?”
“Yes?”
“Maybe next week you can bring me some lunch, too? Or, maybe we could go out for dinner even…”
“I’d love to,” Dan Heng smiled and it was the widest grin you’ve seen on his face thus far, “if you give me more of your paperwork.”
You gasped, feeling thoroughly tricked. So he did want to beat you—?
“That way, we can finish sooner and I can take you to dinner tonight.”
Your train of thoughts stopped in their tracks as a light chuckle escaped your lips. “Fine,” you agreed, finding yourself strangely looking forward to having dinner with him. “But just this once, okay?”
“Of course.”
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dan heng: *stares at reader*
reader: he’s playing mind games to make me nervous and slow me down
dan heng: she’s hardworking and passionate and so cute u.u
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Text
A couple of thoughts after re-watching TGM
What I think is actually canon
Amelia is Mav’s daughter (Penny hints at that when she’s talking to Mav about her) but Amelia doesn't know
Mav considers himself to be Bradley’s dad (Mav answers when Bradley asks his dad what to do) 
Bradley considers both Goose and Mav to be his dad (after Mav says that Bradley saved his life, Bradley says that his dad would've done the same - considering the fact that Mav has already saved Bradley's life you could see that as Bradley seeing Mav as his dad, too) 
Bradley has lived with Mav for a considerable period of time (Mav says to Penny he tried his best to be a father for Bradley) 
Thoughts concerning TG3 / Predictions 
I think they gonna set up Phoenix as Bradley's love interest because they seem very close in the movie (but for me they’re more like besties) 
I hope they gonna keep the character's of Warlock and Cyclone (with Cyclone basically hating Mav and Warlock secretly supporting the shit Mav does all the time) and also they need to keep at least Warlock because somebody needs to prevent that Mav is thrown out of the Navy
I hope there still will be references to Ice (I just love him and he needs to be mentioned) 
Other thoughts 
I actually paid attention to the hangster dynamics for the first time
Jake’s and Bradley’s first hook up is right after dogfight football
Bradley is Ice-coded while Jake is Mav-coded 
I ship bobnix now (I think Nat and Bob are very sweet together in the movie - need to find some fluffy fics about them)
The lifelong friendship between Ice and Mav just kills me (solely sticking to the movie here because otherwise icemav is endgame imo), like Ice basically knows everything about Mav (every shit he has done at work, everything around him pulling Bradley's papers, private problems he’s had etc.) and also the other way round (Mav supporting him during his battle with cancer and a whole lot of other things which we don't know because sadly Ice is only a minor character in both movies) 
I love that Mav refers to Ice in the whole movie only by his nickname
I had to keep myself very hard from crying during the funeral scene (if I had watched it alone, I probably would’ve cried) 
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blueikeproductions · 4 months ago
Text
So the other TFONE Prime cards came out, so what I’ll do is just cover the ones I don’t have much to say about here.
First up Solus Prime.
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Solus has had the weirdest design philosophies. This design seems to be primarily based on the Prime Wars webseries look.
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Which is the superior design vs her original look which has this weird HR Geiger Species vibe I’m not fond of.
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Solus’ primary claim to fame is being the first female Transformer, and the only one among the Primes, making most of the famous weapons in the general lore, and pry most tragic: getting shot by The Fallen and dying. Her body serving as the basis for the Well of Allsparks, meaning she functionally given birth to all Transformers going forward. There’s a… lot to unpack there, not helped is shows like RiD15 and Cyberverse use her name as an exclamation/cuss in “Sweet Solus Prime!” Unlike the older lore, ONE Solus dies by Sentinel’s actions, absolving Megatronus of the matter, which honestly I kinda prefer. Whether Solus and Megs were romantically involved here is unknown. I think what I’m most surprised by is the movie resisted giving Elita Solus’ Cog, since I guarantee older stuff would’ve done that. Outside of both being girls tho’, Solus does fit Elita’s hard working personality more than Alchemist and Onyx.
Nexus Prime
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Not gonna lie, I’m kinda disappointed about this one. His gimmick is he’s the first Combiner, which again contradicts Aligned’s claim Amalgamous is the first converting robot with the first Cog. The ONE design pushes it more into a G1 Blitzwing direction, with vestigial nods to the combiner idea in that he looks to combine from a jet and tank in particular, again mirroring Blitzwing.
Though it also could be a reference to Flywheels.
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Nexus Prime’s original designs nevertheless make his Combiner gimmick expressed more clearly.
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So it feels like a bit of a downgrade to me. His gun shield looks like it formed from a tank component to me, but that could be a stretch… Maybe he really IS a Duocon in this universe.
Liege Maximo
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If there’s one thing Liege is known for, it’s not having a consistent design.
As we’ve gone from whatever this is supposed to be…
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To Loki because the MCU was really popular back then.
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The new design still uses Marvel Loki as the basis, but dials it back considerably, instead making him more of a generic knight. Notably the inclusion of a sword is interesting, as Aligned states his weapons are poisonous Legion Darts. Maximo’s initial concept painted HIM as the first Decepticon, of which Megatron and the others are descended from, an evil being created by Primus to counterbalance the first Prime via G2. Because Megatronus later inherited a lot of this, he instead was cast as more of a manipulative trickster, still evil, but not to the same extent as his G2 version was. Liege Maximo is also the Prime of false starts, as his G2 and IDW selves were set up as the next major villain but cancellation saw this unresolved. G2 Liege Maximo saw conclusion in what was unofficial fan fiction written by Furman, while IDW Liege Maximo was unceremoniously killed by Shockwave-Onyx in the main book. His only role that saw a proper conclusion was in RiD15, where he was the villain of the day in a chapter book causing problems for the Autobots because he was bored in the Prime Realm and wanted a cheap thrill. RiD is also the only place his Loki like characteristics were played around with. Because the Primes in ONE appear to all be benevolent, it’s not clear if Megatronus or Liege Maximo are still supposed to be the evil ones or not, but the more heroic looking Liege says no to me.
Amalgamous Prime
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The mad lads finally made this horrifying thing work.
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Pushing it into a four armed ED-209 direction is much better, and frankly going by his more “primitive” build, they can easily make future Shockwave toys into Amalgamamous. This guy’s claim to fame in the modern lore is being the first actual Transformer with the first Cog, which again is contradicted by Nexus and (possibly) Onyx also being able to Transform… Aligned lore says his Cog informed all future robots on Cybertron of the ability to Transform, but ONE streamlines it that ALL the Primes had Cogs and the ability to Transform, making Amalgamous somewhat redundant. Aligned also claims his direct descendants are “Shifters”, Transformers with omni transformation, rather than the standard robot to vehicle.
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Aligned didn’t really do much with this concept because you can’t realistically make a toy of such a thing nor is it feasible to have them as reoccurring characters for both expenses and being OP, with TFP Makeshift and RID15 Pseudo being depicted as shadow creatures in their default mode. The Shifters haven’t returned post Aligned so I think it’s an abandoned concept. Future stuff I would assume would instead say Triple Changers and Six Changers are AP’s direct descendants since they’re much easier to work with in toy and fiction. His new Robot Mode makes me think he turns into a tank, but I’m also not sure if his head is his chest or not….
Vector Prime
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Aside from his head and colors, the TFONE version is straight up the original Galaxy Force version.
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Though his colors evoke one of Vector Prime’s influences, the Marvel G1 Last Autobot.
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Vector Prime’s best known role is in Cybertron/Galaxy Force, where as the Primus appointed guardian of time, he joined the Autobots of the present day to find the Cyber Planet Keys to close the Black Hole that threatened the universe, as it was the end of time. Galaxy Force also showed Vector Prime can manipulate time, but it was a drain on his energy, and using it too much would kill him. Notably he used a brief display of this early on to save the kids and Mini-Cons from certain death, but I guess this version of Vector couldn’t do the same to defeat Sentinel & the Quints…
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tizeline · 1 year ago
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I was actually wondering what the Sep Au Brothers feel about fashion? I read an analysis the other day about Rise Donnie and he seems to have the best fashion sense out of them all (and may or may not have his own fashion line?? Idk but I love that idea)
So I was wondering if it was the same or different for your Donnie? Do the Drax brothers have more of a yokai fashion sense or like- idk, what do they think of human fashion?
I have no idea is that makes sense but words are difficult
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I think I've seen the same post actually, haha! Yeah, I really like the idea of Donnie being into fashion, and I don't see why it would be different for AU Donnie. As for the Drax Bros, I mentioned it in This Post but their outfits are mostly inspired by what Draxum wears, which in universe would be explained by them wanting to be like their father by emulating his sense of style. After the whole Redemption Arc thing and the Draxum family decides to abandon their Evil Plan, the trio might start exploring and developing their own taste in fashion.
Leo I feel like would be quite excited to try out human clothes, considering he already has an interest in human stuff. It might actually end up being a bit of a bonding experience for him and Donnie when they properly become friends, with Donnie helping Leo find the right outfits for him!
Mikey and Raph would proably still mostly stick to yōkai clothes, while they do eventually become, not just more open-minded about humanity, but also curious about it, they'd still wanna stick to what they're familiar with.
Actually, with Raph it might be more of a necessity. It would be really hard to find human clothes that'd fit his size, and also work with his spikes. Yōkai on the other hand are a lot more diverse physically than humans, so the people in the Hidden City who work with designing and creating clothes would take that into consideration. So needless to say it would be easier for Raph to find yōkai clothes that fit him rather than human clothes.
Seasons probably don't effect the Hidden City that much, I'd assume? Cuz it's underground? So the Drax turtles might not have that much experince with seasons. Still, I don't think they'd love winter considering the fact that they're reptiles and as such are more sensitive to cold. (I think Draxum would've made sure they're more resistant to cold than normal turtles, it would be quite inconvinient if they started brumating in the middle of a fight just cuz it was snowing lol, but they're still more susceptible to it than mammals)
I think Mikey would appreciate autumn, when all the leaves turn a vibrant orange. Both because as an artist he'd appreciate the autumn aesthetic and because... y'know, orange. I think all the bros would like summer cuz, again, reptile biology, they'd like the heat.
I'd assume yokai would have their own unique holidays that the Draxum family would celebrate, no idea what those would be, though.
Draxum has definitely informed his sons about how dangerous Big Mama is and how bad it would be if she found out that they were literally created with her favorite champion's stolen DNA. They don't like her and know to avoid her, if any business is being done between their family and Big Mama then Draxum is the one who handles most of the negotiations.
And lastly - episodes like Todd Scouts and Snow Day, and then The Mud Dogs - none of these I have figured anything out for of how they would be handled in the AU sooooo no answer for ya there, sorry!
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winchesterwild78 · 4 months ago
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A Twist of Fate
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Characters: Dean x Reader, Billy x Reader
Warnings: Nothing too extreme, just some angst, language, and fluff
A/N: Got this idea from a picture I was tagged in by @jackles010378. Sorry it took me so long to write this. Dean and the reader were dating and broke up. Dean sees the reader with her new boyfriend and things unravel. 
This is a work of fiction, all work is my own, do not take it or copy it. 
Minors DNI 18+
The crisp autumn air nipped at my nose as Billy and I strolled down Main Street. The leaves were a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges, and yellows, a beautiful contrast to the gray sky. I couldn't help but think about how much my life had changed since I'd last seen Dean.
Three years. That's how long we'd been together. Three years of laughter, love, and a shared passion for the supernatural. And then, just like that, he was gone. A letter, a simple explanation that he couldn't be with me anymore. The pain had been unbearable, a wound that had slowly healed, leaving a scar that I would always carry.
That morning I woke up and found the letter on his pillow. It was the day my world broke. Tears fell on the letter as I read his simple words. 
Dear Y/N,
These past three years have been great. We’ve shared so much and done even more together. I know you love me. You’ve said it so many times, and showed me every day. I just can’t lie to you anymore. I don’t feel the same. That’s not fair to you, to make you think we have a future together. One where we get married and have kids. I can’t do the apple pie life. I’m sorry, Y/N. I do hope you find the love you deserve.
Goodbye,
D
It didn’t make sense to me. We had just shared a night of love and passion, tangled in each other’s embrace. Whispering words of love and affection. We talked of the future and he said he’d love to be a dad one day. He was the love of my life, then he was gone. 
Now, here I was, two years later with Billy. He was kind, considerate, and everything a good man should be. But a part of me couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
We met through a mutual friend and had an instant connection. I wouldn’t call it love, but I was grateful for the companionship. I hadn’t even spoken the words to him. Billy was quick to say “I love you”, but I couldn’t say it because I didn’t mean it, nor did I feel it. 
Billy spent all of his free time with me. At times it felt suffocating. Dean and I spent a lot of time together too, but we also had our time apart. I’d bake and he’d work in the garage, it was a perfect balance.
Walking hand in hand through Main Street my mind kept comparing him to Dean. When Dean and I would walk, his arm was around me in a protective way. Billy just held my hand. Dean would lace his fingers in mine, Billy just cupped my hand. 
When Billy kissed me, it was hard and fast. When Dean kissed me it was soft and full of passion. Every step I took my mind kept comparing Billy to Dean. I couldn’t figure out why Dean was in the forefront of my thoughts.
And then I saw him. Leaning against the Impala, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. Dean. My heart pounded in my chest as our eyes met. A flash of something crossed his face - regret? Jealousy? I couldn't be sure.
As we continued walking, I glanced back. He was still watching, his gaze fixed on me. A wave of emotions washed over me. I stumbled as I looked back. I saw him gasp and jump off the car. Billy grabbed my arm trying to steady me. “You okay?” I nodded. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Dean. Billy followed my gaze. Clearing his throat I turned and met his eyes. “Who’s that?” He asked, his voice laced with hurt and something else, anger maybe. I looked at Dean then back at Billy, “he’s my ex.” 
Billy wasn’t happy. I could feel the tension between us. As we walked into the quiet cafe he shot me a look that sent a chill through me. The cashier offered a soft smile. “How can I help you two today?” She said with a sweet voice. Billy looked at her and said “We will both have a coffee with 2 creams and 1 sugar.” She nodded as she started to put in the order. I spoke up, “Um, excuse me. I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” Billy shot me a look and grabbed my hand, “No, you’ll have what I ordered you. You’re my girlfriend and you’ll have what I order.” 
The cashier stood shocked. My mouth was on the floor. He’d never acted like this before. I touched his bicep softly, “Billy, I am your girlfriend, but I can order what I want.” Billy huffed and mumbled something. The cashier told Billy the total and she went about making the order. 
When we had our order Billy directed me to a booth at the back of the restaurant. I sat across from him and looked at him, shocked by his behavior. “You want to tell me what the hell that was about, Billy? Since when do you order for me and grab me?” Billy just stared at me, anger flashing in his eyes. It honestly scared me. 
“I didn’t like how you kept staring at pretty boy out there. It’s like you’re in love with him or something.” I bit my lip, not knowing what to say to him. I was in love with him. I never stopped loving him, but how could I tell him that? 
I swallowed hard. Touching Billy’s hand I started to speak, “Billy, I was in love with him when I was with him. He broke my heart and I’m with you now. That’s all that matters.” 
Billy pulled his hand away from me. “So you can love him but not me? You know what, screw this. Why don’t you go back to him and be his little whore again.” I gasped, “Billy! What the hell. Please calm down. I don’t want to be with him, I’m with you.”
Before I could say anything else, Billy stood up and told me to have a nice life and left. I sat at the table in shock. What the hell just happened? How did one little thing set him off like that? 
I sat at the table thinking about the past few years, how my love for Dean slipped away, and how Billy reacted to me seeing Dean. I was lost in thought and didn’t hear the bell above the door. 
The sound of a deep husky voice pulled me from my thoughts, “Hello, sweetheart.” My eyes flicked up and they met the piercing green eyes of my favorite hunter. My breath caught in my throat, “D…Dean, what are you doing here?” “Sammy and I were in town on a hunt, I heard you moved here. I’m so glad I ran into you. Can I sit?” 
“Sure.” I said without hesitation. Dean sat across from me. His hands instinctively grabbed mine. My head is screaming at me to pull away, but the rest of my body is holding on for dear life. 
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I was foolish and a complete jackass for leaving and for leaving you the way I did. I was scared. I had finally found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, have children with, and I got scared. Scared you would be taken away from me. Scared because I don’t deserve the love you had for me. I’ve never deserved love or to be loved. I’m broken, Y/N. 
As I sat across from him, hearing him say how he didn’t deserve love my heart broke for him. “Dean, you deserve so much.You, Dean Winchester, deserve all the love in the world. You were four years old when you saved your brother from the fire, you raised him. Dean, you had to be mom and dad to Sam. Dean Winchester, the man who willingly went to hell to save his baby brother, the man who was willing to die for so many people. Dean Winchester, the man who took on the Mark of Cain to help save the world. You deserve all the love this world has to offer. You deserve so much more than I can give you. I NEVER stopped loving you, Dean, and I know I never will.”
Dean stood and walked over to me. He reached out his hand and took my hand in his, pulling me up and flush to his body. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, and his hand cupped my face, “You are even more beautiful now than you were two years ago. I was a fool to let you go, and I intend to spend the rest of my life making that up to you. That is if you’ll have me again.” 
I leaned into his hand that cupped my face. My heart hammered in my chest. His touch ignited that fire, that love I had buried deep inside me. Without another word I leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. It was soft and Dean hesitated for a moment. Then something changed. His hands went into my hair and pulled me in. The kiss became more passionate and full of need. 
The hurt from the past two years was fading with each kiss. When we finally parted, I looked at Dean and smiled. His eyes are full of love and desire. “Dean, take me home.” I said as I leaned into his embrace.
Dean took my hand and led me out of the coffee shop and to the Impala. He opened the car door and I climbed in. When he got in the driver’s seat, he looked over, smiled and took my hand. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.” He stepped on the gas and we headed back home. Home, where we both belonged, together and in each other’s arms. 
Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  
Tags: 
@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 
@k-slla @jackles010378 
@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 
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@jassackles  @chriszgirl92
@suckitands33 @arcannaa 
@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 
@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 
@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 
@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 
@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87
@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld
@nancymcl @baby19sthings
@cheekygirl2309 @oceean
@kindollss @foxyjwls007
@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove
@spxideyver @reignsboy19
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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year ago
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Broken Boy
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Pairing: soft!yandere!Midoriya Izuku x reader
Warnings: obsession, manipulation, past bullying, violence (against bullies), unhealthy coping mechanisms, implied stalking, one mention of hypothetical noncon, Izuku being a cinnamon roll and a menace at the same time, hurt/comfort.
Words: 3.2k
Summary: "Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.
P.S. Just giving some love to our best boi.
______________
When you see him, it's almost like every other Friday night when you grab a pizza from that corner cafe and come home to Izuku choosing a movie for you two to enjoy. It's been your favorite tradition ever since middle school, and you can't imagine spending the evening anywhere else.
Though maybe you should, given the circumstances.
Midoriya keeps chatting about work and the new equipment in his gym while you struggle to keep the conversation going. There are a lot of things on your mind, but your best friend's mental health is on the top of the list. Has been for a long time when you two had been younger, but you actually thought he got better with time. That is, until your work friend pointed out how unnaturally clingy he seems to the point when it's almost creepy.
He'd bark for you if you asked, she huffed, but, to your horror, you couldn't even find it in you to argue. In the end, she was right. When you look back at it, Izuku has been getting more and more possessive and insecure despite nothing seemingly changing in the relationship between you two.
Has something happened to him, and you missed it completely? You are confident it isn't his mom - your friend would often FaceTime with you around, and nothing at all hints at Midoriya's mom being distressed, you know her well enough to be sure. Is it work, perhaps? Personal issues?
Has someone started bullying him again?
You shiver from anger at the thought, clenching your fists. You would fucking end anyone who's troubling your ray of sunshine - like you had nearly done in middle school.
When you first met him, he was a new kid in your class, all skin and bones, awkward and shy and with no communication skills whatsoever. Took him about a day to become a target of delinquents you school was full of. They mocked him, drew on his desk, and threw a bucket of water at him once, but, as always, teachers didn't pay any attention to the bullying. You feel bad about it now, but since you had never seen it happen with your own eyes, you didn't think much of it either.
However, when one of the kids punched Izuku in the face to the point his nose started bleeding right in front of you, something in you snapped at the view of blood trickling down Midoriya's face. He was crying, hands up to prevent the kid from hurting him more, pleading the bullies to stop as if they'd listen. To this day, it infuriates you that someone would beat up a child this defenseless and lost: he was like an injured puppy, sobbing and trying to hide in the corner with his arms up to protect himself.
Before you even realized what you were doing, you flew to the bully and strated throwing punches at him like your life depended on it, repeatedly hitting him in the head and chest and everywhere you could reach before the other kids intervened. You were so enraged, though, you ended up fighting them, too, despite getting kicked in the ribs hard. The pain didn't stop you: it was like you turned into a whole different being whose only purpose was to hurt the bullies of a crying kid.
The teachers barely got a hold of you before you grabbed a chair to smash it against the back of one of the other children.
To this day, you wonder how Izuku awoke this raging beast inside of you: you had rarely gotten into fights, and, given your politeness and overall sweet demeanor, neither you nor anyone else had suspected you had it in you. Nevertheless, from that point on, there wasn't a day when you weren't there for Midoriya to kick the ass of whoever had the gall to torment him. Hell, the next time someone punched him, you went batshit crazy and almost pushed the guy off the stairs. Worse, you aren't the slightest bit sorry even now when you think of Izuku's swollen eye after he got punched again.
Gradually, it became better after you showed every stupid boy around what would happen if they did anything stupid to that awkward skinny kid, and Izuku was finally left alone. Naturally, it was no surprise he got so attached to you he spent nearly all his time somewhere around, going to the same after-school activities, picking same clubs, doing same things as long as he was able to stay close to you. You felt sorry for Midoriya: he was so nice it alone was enough for people to pick on him. How was he supposed to find friends? He'd stay a loner forever if you didn't do anything.
He wasn't hard to be around. Getting to know him better, you realized he was genuinely a very gentle and smart kid despite his antics and a weird addiction to superhero movies. Izuku was sweet and polite, holding a door for you like a gentleman, carrying your books, always laughing at your jokes, and even giving up his rice pudding he claimed he didn't like just to give it to you. How could you not like him?
It's been years since you both graduated from college, and he is still bringing you a rice pudding whenever you feel sad. You heart clenches as you think of him going through hard times again when you have no idea what's happening.
"Are you alright?" He suddenly asks, and you realize you've been staring at the wall for a minute, not replying to anything he just said.
God, this is gonna be painful.
"Are you alright?" Turning your head to face him, you ask, equally guilty and concerned.
Even though he tells you he is, giving you his brightest smile, you don't believe it. Izuku is very good at hiding his emotions when he's hurt.
"Talk to me," you ask, grabbing his palms in yours, and he visibly reddens at the sudden touch like a schoolboy.
You aren't fooled by this as you patiently wait for him to open up like always does when you want him to be honest with you, but Izuku just shrugs and says he's unsure what you're implying. Things are the same. Nothing has changed, nothing at all.
"Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.
Midoriya smiles and shakes his head. "No. My colleagues and my boss are very nice. You don't have to worry."
"I can't NOT worry!" You exhale, rubbing his hands in yours like you always do when you get nervous. "You seem so... alone. I don't even see your gym buddies anymore. Has something happened? Did you have a fallout or something?"
There it is, this gentle, heartbreaking smile he always gives you whenever you are worried. Izuku has never once told you that you are pushy and overbearing despite the fact that you were all that many times in the past. He just smiles at you like he's happy someone cares, and it makes you tear up at the thought. How could he be so sweet and kind and yet so unaware of his own worth? It feels like the world is so freaking unfair to him.
"I just don't spend that much time with them anymore," he says as he gets a little closer to you, cheeks blushing because he's such a pure soul, unspoiled and shy, "because you are my best friend. I wanna hang out with you. I thought you'd be happy about it."
It's nearly enough to make you freaking sob. What did you do to deserve this sweetheart? How could he stay such a warm, kindhearted guy after the treatment people gave him?
You draw a breath and look him dead in the eye. "Izuku, come on, I'm not going anywhere. Why on Earth do you think if you have other friends, I'll stop hanging out with you? Having more friends is a healthy thing! We can hang out together if you'd like."
It seems Midoriya doesn't like the idea, giving how he shakes his head, his expression darkening. You don't know what to make of it until he starts talking, not meeting your eyes, "No. What if you'll like my friends more than me? I've always felt like you liked those gym guys more than me. I hated it. Like they're better than me, and if they ask you to stop spending time with me, you'll choose them over me."
For a second, you're unsure if you've just misheard him. It takes you a moment to process his words. What the actual fuck?! Did he just suppose you like his gym bros you only ever met a couple of times more than him, your best friend who's been with you for years?
As you blink, a thousand questions form in your head in response to his accusation, but one thought prevails over others: Izuku is battling some serious demons inside his head. There is no way a sane person would ever suggest anything like that. He's really, really insecure. Insecure in a dangerous way. You can't believe you haven't realized it earlier, just blaming it on his weird social skills when Izuku clearly hasn't been alright. When did it even start? Has it always been like that, and you simply didn't see the signs? Is it because of his childhood traumas?
Of course, it's his fucking childhood traumas. Why else? You were literally the only kid around him. Of course, he's terrified of losing you, and that's why he's still glued to you like a child.
It hurts you thinking your best friend is struggling that much. He's such a good person. He could have been so much happier if not for the things he had to endure as a kid that damaged him.
"Izuku, I think you need help," you whisper quietly, heartbroken, clenching his hands in yours as he watches you with that soft smile on his face that only makes you more anxious. "Things you say, they're just... wrong. I'd never abandon you for someone else, but it's not normal to depend on anyone that much. You need help. What can I do for you?"
You are completely honest with him when you speak, wishing to do anything it takes to help him get better. Clearly, Midoriya needs therapy. You'll have to ask around and find him an adequate specialist, maybe even pay if Izuku's low on cash, but you can do it. He's your best friend. Even if your colleague is right and he'd do anything for you, you'd do anything for him either. That's what friends are for.
When Izuku lights up, you hope he'll accept your help, but instead, he says, "Just stay with me like this."
You blink again and sigh in frustration. Of course, he'll pretend like he's ok. He has always had.
Reaching out to him, you envelop him in a hug and bring his head to your chest despite how much bigger he is now compared to you. Izuku doesn't fight, eagerly wrapping his hands around your core like he waited for it to happen. You're fairly certain touch is his love language because he used to hug you almost every day when he was a kid. Sure, he did become more self-conscious once you turned older, but it didn't stop him from occasional cuddles.
"I'm not going anywhere, ok?" You repeat again to reassure him. "I'm here. I don't know why you're so fixated on the idea."
"But what if you're gonna meet some guy you'll fall in love with? Get married, have kids?" He mumbles, his breath warming your neck. "What about me then?"
Gently caressing his head to calm him down, you ask, "Well, aren't you gonna do the same? Don't you want to fall in love with some nice girl?"
He sighs loudly, head buried under your chin as he keeps clinging to you. "I've already had."
Eyes wide, you silently stare at him, but Midoriya doesn't stop cuddling with his face hidden from you like he doesn't want you to see him. What the hell? Is this a prank or something? What sort of a fucking rollercoaster is this evening?
You can't even believe he fell in love with someone. Seriously? And didn't even tell you? Who on Earth is this girl? Do you know her? How did they meet? Your head is ready to burst from the number of questions that only seem to multiple again and again with each sentence Midoriya says.
"But you never even hang out with anyone but me..." You start, furrowing your brows until Izuku is groaning in your chest, and it finally hits you.
He is talking about you.
You are the only girl he's ever cared about. The only person he's been close to. And he has always been nice, but also sort of exceptionally nice? Even your mom used to comment on how much he likes you, hinting at the evident crash he had for you, but you always thought it was just wishful thinking despite how much you'd liked him to be in love with you. Given how open he was, he would've already confessed, you thought. By the time you both turned into adults, you were pretty much convinced he didn't harbor any romantic feelings for you or no longer had them.
When in reality he might have fallen in love with you years ago and never fallen out of it.
It freaks you out that much your face is on fire. Fucking hell. How are you supposed to react? What are you going to say? You don't even understand how you are feeling about this. Do you like him? Sure, you absolutely do. But do you love him? Can you love him? He'll surely ask you to date now that the cat is our of the bag. And what are you going to say to that?
Instead, you try to direct your thoughts elsewhere and ask Izuku, swallowing a lump in your throat, "When did you f-fall in love with me?"
He mumbles something inaudible into your chest, and you have to grab his face and make him look at you despite how much you'd like the earth just to swallow you whole this very moment.
"When you first hit that kid for me, I think," he mutters with his face so red he resembles a ripe tomato.
Oh my god, you almost say to his face but manage to stop yourself, drawing a shaky breath instead. He's been in love with you all this time. All. This. Time. You are never going to live this moment down. Ever.
Your best friend had a crush on you for years, and you just blindly thought he was clingy for no reason aside from his loneliness. That he was just being moody when you went on a couple of dates in high school and talked to him about it. That he didn't date anyone himself because he's simply a very shy person and struggles to start a conversation with girls.
Were you being a huge moron to him all this time?
"You weren't supposed to find out this way," he grumbles, burying his head beneath your chin again. "I was preparing for a big reveal in a nice restaurant, and then we'd go on a trip, just the two of us."
You are so abashed you don't even have anything to say. Maybe you're actually dreaming right now on Midoriya's couch because only then it would all make sense. What the hell are you supposed to say? To feel? Your best friend has always been in love with you, and you had no fucking idea.
Again, not that you don't like him or anything. You do. Especially after he manned up a little, grew taller, and hit the gym, although you'd probably like him even if he still was 5"1 skinny as a rail guy with a baby face. It just feels weird to rapidly start developing these freaking intense feelings for someone you nearly considered a part of you.
While you're trying to somehow get out of this akward situation, your brain gives you the stupidest idea to make a joke, "Well, aren't we confident! Already planned a trip after confessing."
You almost feel him smile, but when he breaks the embrace to straighten and look you in the eyes, he has a sad expression on his face. "I'd try to convince you by any means possible I'd do anything for you. I was ready to grovel at your feet. I still am."
His words alarm you, and you immediately place your hands on his shoulders, causing him to smile again. You want to tell him under no circumstances he should do that to anyone at all, but Izuku keeps going before you can stop him.
"I mean it. I'd do anything. I'd let you hurt me. I'd let you rape me if you wanted to. I'd jump from the roof if you asked me. Whatever you want, I'll do."
Normally, a love confession would have made you happy, but the words he say break your heart instead, and your eyes are instantly wet before you even realize it. How could he say something like that? How could be so nonchalant about these things? Has he no regard for himself as a human being? No pride? No pity? How can he talk about being alright with you hurting him if only it meant you'd date him? How could be genuinely be fine with a thing like this?
'I'm sorry!" He apologizes immediately when tears start streaming down your cheeks. "I didn't mean to upset you, I swear! I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me."
You are fully sobbing now, clenching his stupid Captain America sweatshirt you got him last Christmas. This is so fucked up. How could he be okay with you doing these things to him? Why would he even go that far?
You can't stop yourself from embracing him once more, hugging him tight as your head rests on his broad shoulder. Midoriya doesn't protest, his gentle, warm hands already caressing your back as you sniffle.
"Izuku, you need help," you sob, soaking his sweatshirt, oblivious to his smile growing wide when you don't see his face.
Gently rocking back and forth like he's trying to calm down a child, he whispers to you softly in response, "Then will you stay and help me?"
It's such an innocent ask you have no second thoughts saying yes immediately because you better fall down the roof yourself than leave your friend in this state, and you don't even think about Izuku manipulating you into being with him. How could he? He's a cinnamon roll to the core. He's so good and pure it's dangerous for him to be left alone. Besides, you like him anyway, don't you? It's not like everything will change so much in a heartbeat. He's still your friend, still the closest to you. He'll always be. He just needs your help, and you can't say no when he's been so traumatized and really needs help.
Izuku knew you'd say yes, anyway.
__________
Tags: @yanderetodorokishoto @minshookie29
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our-happygirl500-fan · 2 years ago
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Something that I’ve been wondering about is whether or not the Krang know what Yokai are
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Krang Prime: You’re not human. What are you?
When the Krang capture Raph something that was kind of interesting was the Krang wondering what Raph was since they recognised that he wasn’t human but something I was wondering about was why they didn’t assume that Raph was a Yokai instead.
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Draxum: My plan is coming to fruition. My bugs are hard at work turning humans into Yokai
It’s been shown in Rise that there isn’t really much difference between mutants & Yokai and the Rise team have said that mutants are basically more or less, enhanced Yokai so if there isn’t much difference between mutants & Yokai, part of me wonders why the Krang didn’t ask Raph if he was a Yokai.
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Big Mama: We Yokai have existed for thousands of eons
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Krang Prime: Forgive my sister. She’s got a bit of a temper and being in prison for a thousand years hasn’t done her any favours
In the episode Bug Busters, Big Mama says that the Yokai have existed for ‘thousands of eons’ & considering that the Krang say that they were sealed for only a thousand years, unless time moves considerably slower in the Prison Dimension, Big Mama was most likely exaggerating or otherwise the Krang should recognise what Yokai are.
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Something that might be possible is the idea that the Krang themselves created the Yokai as during the final episode of Rise we found out that Empyrean originally came from the Krang & the Rise team have said that Empyrean is the source of the Yokai’s mystic powers
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Draxum: So nice of you to return my vile 
Considering that the vile that Draxum took from Mayhem in the first episode to finish his ooze is said to be Empyrean it’s possible that Empyrean was the original Mutagen in the Rise universe & was what created the Yokai in the first place when the Krang first invaded meaning that the Yokai that we know of in Rise are descendants of the first mutants.
There are a few similarities between Rise & the 2012 cartoon due to a lot of the same people who worked on the 2012 cartoon also working on Rise so it is possible that another similarity between the 2012 cartoon & Rise is that mutants or Yokai are just as much a product of the Krang in Rise as they are in the 2012 Cartoon.
But I don’t think that the Yokai were created by the Krang that got sealed away in the Prison Dimension, I kind of think that the Yokai were created by the Krang that got left behind.
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Karai: Oroku Saki made a deal with a powerful oni, this demon offered him a suit of dark armour
It is possible that not all the Krang were sealed away & that there was at least one Krang left on earth when the Krang were sealed away the first time as in the episode Shreddy or Not it’s revealed that the Dark Armour was originally created by the Krang (which would explain why the Foot Clan is said to worship the Krang in the first place).
Though we don’t know when exactly the Krang made a deal with Oroku Saki we do know that Karai & the Shredder were sealed away for 500 years.
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Casey: Master Shredder you have returned to us, after five hundred years the Foot Clan can finally fulfil our mission and do your dark bidding!
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Karai: Please I have just endured five hundred years of misery 
Considering that the Krang were said to have been sealed away for 1000 years they should have been sealed away 500 years before Karai & Shredder were meaning that either time moves faster in the prison dimension making the Krang experience being imprisoned for 1000 years when really it was only around 500 or not all the Krang were sealed away.
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If at least one Krang had been left behind on earth after the Krang were originally sealed away that would possibly be kind of an interesting parallel to how there is at least one Krang left on Earth after the Hamato Clan seals Krang Prime away at the end of the movie.
If there was at least one Krang left behind on Earth then it is possible that the Krang that got left behind could have possibly created the Yokai & if the Yokai were created after most of the Krang were sealed away then it is possible that the Krang that we see in the movie might not really have any idea what Yokai or mutants are.
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narrans · 9 months ago
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My Borrowed Son | 22 | Choices and Change
Chapter Twenty-Two | Choices and Change
Amanda knew she had messed up, but was now even the time to discuss it? Every expert she read about was saying the same thing. Every article and book indicated the same thing.
And yet Amanda couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Every adoption parenting book and article she researched said that integrating the fact that the child was adopted as soon and as early as possible would be the healthiest thing for them. Practically every study said that integrating this information as a part of every day life would keep a sense of normalcy and a sense of belonging for the child.
It helped in showing the child that even if they didn’t come from you, it didn’t mean they were loved or cared for any less. Sharing this information allowed open communication and questions in a “safe space.”
The only problem for Amanda was that she didn’t have the answers.
She didn’t tell Parker early on that she didn’t give birth to him.
She didn’t tell Parker that she found him at a children’s playground under a bench scared and alone after several powerful thunderstorms days prior.
She didn’t know what he was if he wasn’t a human with some kind of weird genetic disorder.
She didn’t even know if his real, biological parents were even alive.
No answers.
No hope of turning back the clock.
No way she could proceed delicately if she wanted to tell Parker anything about his origins.
So, when his fourteenth birthday came and went, Amanda realized that she could only prepare herself for when his questions would inevitably come. Everything was further complicated when Parker finally confessed that he thought he had feelings for his fellow classmate, Lyn.
Amanda had suspected Parker’s feelings for months now, but it wasn’t until he actually confessed that he thought he had a crush that it seemed real to her. It was obvious to Amanda, but Parker was a bit more reserved when it came to his confessions of puppy love for his friend.
No talk about being boyfriend and girlfriend was mentioned, but Amanda knew it was only a matter of time before any of this happened. It was an exciting and nerve wracking time, but Amanda couldn’t help but feel dread for what might lay on the horizon.
The thoughts about a discussion with Parker about him being adopted were also taking a back burner in her mind.
Recently, Amanda’s work had given her a promotion and wanted her to start coming into the office regularly rather than being virtual. She trusted her son in being alone in the apartment because she had done it before dozens of times when she needed to go out and couldn’t bring or hide Parker.
More than that was the fact Amanda wanted to move into a real home. A beautiful house in a nearby neighborhood had just become available and, after a lot of consideration, Amanda decided to talk to Parker about possibly moving from an apartment to a house.
“Nothing will change. You’ll still have your normal classes, but we wouldn’t be in a condo attached to other apartments anymore. We would have more space and could really made something special out of it,” explained Amanda.
Of course, Parker didn’t have to be sold hard on the idea. He had lived in the same place all his life and wanted his mom to be happy. She had talked about buying a house for years and Parker had always wanted to experience a move. All of his other friends seemed to experience it after all.
The promise of a new adventure was thrilling, so Parker agreed.
“Yeah! Is it a big place? Are there lots of rooms? Is it far away? Or is it close?” asked Parker.
“It’s a bit close actually. It’s just a few neighborhoods over, which might seem silly to move if it’s not a whole new area. It’s a fairly big place. There’s a big basement, a big living room, and three bedrooms,” explained Amanda.
“Woah! I can’t wait to tell Lyn,” beamed Parker as he continued to help clear his dishes after dinner. At this, he paused and glanced nervously up at his mom. “Do… you think… umm… well… do you think I could invite my friends over? Once we get all moved in and everything? Like… in time for my fifteenth birthday?”
Amanda’s stomach dropped as she considered Parker’s words.
Many of his friends had been around for four or five years. His really close friends seemed to be good kids and developing into decent teens.
The real question, however, was could they be trusted in handling Parker with care? Also, how would they react to seeing their friend in person? What would their reactions be to him being so small?
“I… Maybe. We’ll get settled first and then see if we can host something with some of your friends,” said Amanda.
Parker’s demeanor shifted from nervous to excited as he gave an excited shimmy and washed his dishes and then headed back to his room to finish a paper for his class.
Amanda knew she had an opportunity right then and there to possibly talk to Parker about why she had been so cautious, but diminishing that excitement in Parker’s eyes would break her heart.
She decided that this new move with new beginnings may be the best time to talk to her son about how he came into her life. Just as soon as they were settled, Amanda decided that she needed to talk to Parker about everything. Not knowing the answers wasn’t a good excuse anymore. Not wanting to hurt Parker wasn’t an option.
This was going to hurt both of them, but Amanda knew deep down that, as sick as it made her, she needed to address the truth regardless of consequences.
It would happen with the move and as soon as they were settled.
~~~^*^*^~~~
Kers heard the word “move” and knew he had a critical decision to make – stay in the apartment complex with the other humans he could borrow from or go with Amanda and Parker to watch over the Borrower child.
It wasn’t a difficult decision, but the logistics was the thing Kers was mainly concerned about. Moving as a Borrower was a tricky thing. There were too many things that could go wrong and twice as many things to worry about.
Kers could be seen, both by Amanda and by Parker.
Kers could be crushed by boxes or furniture pieces.
Kers could experience malnutrition and have a harder time finding food because humans became very particular about their food when moving.
Kers would have to start from scratch when moving to a new place if Borrowers didn’t occupy the home before he moved in.
The prospect of starting from scratch wasn’t an appealing one, but there was little else he could do. He made a silent promise to keep Parker safe, and that was what he intended to do.
So, with precision and care, Kers began packing all of his essentials in a go backpack. For his other essentials and items he had borrowed and wanted to take with him, Kers made the bold decision to put the items back into the human’s possession in the hopes he could borrow them back once they had finished the move.
Some of the things were blankets and kitchen supplies that were too heavy for him to carry with him. Other items he was able to deconstruct and slip into small boxes of miscellaneous nick knacks that the human, Amanda, never really bothered with.
It helped that Amanda had a big calendar countdown in the kitchen letting herself and Parker know how many days they had until the big move. It let Kers slip down into the kitchen and place his valuables into places Amanda might not look or grow suspicious of while she collected everything to move.
When the big day came, Kers felt his heart pounding in his throat. He had managed to collect nearly everything in his home and place it back into Amanda’s care temporarily. When Amanda began moving her boxes, the Borrower seized his opportunity.
Palms sweaty. Heart pounding distinctively slow in sync with every time his foot connected with the ground. Kers knew he had mere seconds to spare, but it didn’t stop his calmness of hand as he wrenched his hook from his hip and snagged it on the edge of the box.
Kers’ sprint was not half as taxing as the lightning fast climb he made into a nearby cluttered box of odds and ends. He just managed to get his hook free and found a hiding place, trusting his skills and praying he wasn’t noticed, before he felt the box begin to shift. He closed his eyes and hoped that nothing would reveal his hiding place.
The box jostled vigorously before being hoisted into the air at a nauseating speed. From where he was, Kers could see Amanda’s fingers poking through the box at the handholds. Kers held onto his gut and pinched his thumbs into his clenches fists as his breakfast threatened to make an appearance.
“Hang on, mom! Are my chargers in that box? Or in the other one?” asked Parker, whose voice was alarmingly close. Kers dared to glance up at the small gap of light at the top of the box as he wriggled further down into his hiding space beside some pen cups. From where he was, Kers could clearly see the charging cables Parker was referring to.
“Um… I think so,” Amanda replied, her much louder voice shaking the Borrower to his core.
“Is it okay if I check? I’ll be quick,” asked Parker. The question made Kers’ blood run cold.
Check?
Check!
You mean in the box?
Here?
Now?
Oh no…
Kers could do nothing as he listened to the sound of tiny feet pitter pad across the cardboard roof above him and watch as a small shadow filled the gap above him. He could only hope his Borrower skills had camouflaged him well enough so that Parker and his keen eyes wouldn’t notice him.
The small shadow of a fellow Borrower eclipsed the little bit of light at the top of the box before Kers heard a soft thump followed by an “ooff.” The disguised Borrower leaned back further and made sure he was braced for if the box was dropped suddenly. He knew the cardboard was too thick to cut through, but Kers had a clear path to those handholds Amanda was using now.
If he needed to, he could make a mad dash as long as that path wasn’t blocked.
No reassuring thoughts could quiet his relentlessly thumping heart. Each beat made his entire chest throb. Clenching his jaw and leaning back a little further, Kers could clearly see the little sandy haired Borrower teen rummaging through a few odds and ends at the opposite end of the box.
Seeing him up close really showed Parker’s form. He looked healthy and tall, which was a tribute to Amanda’s care. Amazing what good nutrition can do for you. He’s taller than the average Borrower, and he’s only going to get taller.
Parker suddenly turned around and, for a moment, Kers felt his heart skip a beat. Parker’s eyes widened and then squinted in rapid succession.
Kers held his breath.
Everything – time itself – stood still before Kers saw a smile curl Parker’s lips.
“Found them! They’re over there in the corner,” called Parker as he spun back around toward the light and jumped, catching the edge of the cardboard with his fingertips and hoisting himself up and out of the box.
Kers wanted to shout to release all of the pent-up energy his body was charged with in those tense moments, but instead he forced himself to breathe calmly and nodded slowly.
That was close.
That was too close.
One of us needs to talk to Parker sooner or later.
Kers could only imagine what kind of interaction that would have been had Parker actually spotted him hiding there under the various wires and contraptions in the box. It only ended poorly for everyone no matter how Kers thought about it.
It only reaffirmed the fact that Parker needed to know the truth whether or not he was asking the right questions.
It was time.
At least, it was nearing time.
Kers realized that he needed to get to the new house and settled in, relatively speaking, before addressing Parker. It occurred to Kers that possibly addressing Amanda first might be a better alternative to talking to Parker first, but the thought of talking to a human and willingly revealing Borrower-kind made him sick.
Sadly, it was probably the best way to go about it. Revealing himself directly to Parker would bring about trust issues between him and his mother and possibly make Parker resent his mother. If Kers talked to Amanda and answered her questions first, perhaps when she talked to Parker she would have those answers and then be able to refer to Kers, their friendly neighborhood wall walker, for further explanation.
It would show that Amanda wanted to talk to Parker about everything and wasn’t trying to hide information while also telling him the truth.
Parker deserved it.
He was a good kid.
He was going to be a man before long.
It wasn’t going to be easy or pretty, but just mulling over the concepts and ideas of addressing everything to Parker and Amanda helped keep the Borrower’s mind off of the overall trip. He didn’t even notice the roar of the car engine or the jostling all around him as the boxes around him.
The car finally came to a halt and after what felt like an hour of waiting in the darkness of the vehicle trunk the jostling came to his box as it was carried into the house. The whole thing felt like tumbling down a bumpy hill or a knotted line, every step making his insides lurch. Kers could only guess that Amanda was more careful when she was carrying around Parker; he hoped so at least.
When the world finally stopped moving, Kers remained completely still for another twenty minutes. His heart pounded uncomfortably as the thought that Parker could come climbing down into the box for his various belongings interrupted any and all of Kers’ strategic plans to escape his current environment.
It wasn’t until he was certain he was going to be alone for the next few minutes that Kers dared to push himself up, grab his pack, and climb up to the handhold to get a better view of his surroundings.
The living area was hard wood, which would make any movement very audible if he wasn’t light on his toes, and from where Kers was he could spot the kitchen and a set of stairs leading to an upstairs.
The vastness of the room and complete lack of cover made his instincts feel electrified, but all he needed was one clear shot to get into the walls. The sensation and difficulty of the task made his head swirl, but Kers took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
Go. Now!
That instinct in his mind screamed just as he began wiggling his way through the handhold on the box. Every hair stood on end. Every sound seemed amplified. The tremor in the ground felt like an earthquake.
Amanda was on her way back.
Kers knew he had only seconds to react, and he took full advantage of it.
Slinging his pack onto his back, Kers dared to drop from one box to the next without a security line all the way to the ground where he fell instantly into a crouch. His body seemed to move on its own as he rounded the corner just as Amanda passed right behind and headed toward the kitchen with a box of supplies in her arms.
One glance told Kers that Parker was riding on Amanda’s shoulder and seeing them both towering above him was crippling. Heart palpitating, Kers took his chance as he spotted an electrical outlet at the far end of the living room. He was sure he was making noise. It sounded like he was running around crashing into everything he could, which was not the case.
He had just made it to the electrical cover and unscrewed the faceplate when he heard Amanda and Parker talking about how they wanted to set up Parker’s room. It made Kers’ heart hurt hearing the excitement in the young teen’s voice.
There was such zeal and innocence there.
It took a couple of good tugs, but Kers finally managed to yank free the cover as he practically threw himself into the walls and covered the hole once more.
As Kers slipped into the comfort of the walls, he let himself breathe his first true sigh of relief all day. Though he knew borrowing back the things he mixed into Amanda’s belongings would be a trick, he knew he was once again safe within reason.
The Borrower sank to the ground, sliding down the wall slowly, and sat there against the stud of a load bearing wall. Something in his heart refused to quiet. It was either fate or pure dumb luck that Parker hadn’t seen him earlier.
Kers chuckled to himself quietly as the irony hit him. Here he was worried that Parker – a fellow Borrower – saw him as if Parker were a human.
Well… I suppose he kind of is all things considering.
Once he gathered himself, Kers hoisted himself and his pack onto his back. There was a lot to do and there was never enough time to do it.
First things first was to find a nice place to sleep and set up a temporary base of operations. There was nothing worse during a move than trying to fun from one side of the house to the othe when there was a decent middle ground that reached all of the essential spots.
For Kers, that usually was at or around the kitchen, so that’s where he headed. The pack on his back felt like it weighed a whole pound, but he refused to leave these things behind. It honestly showed him what living a sedentary life felt like, especially when collecting things with sentimental value.
It was a new experience, and something about it felt oddly good. Borrowers, after all, didn’t usually get to keep many trinkets and bobbles and knick-knacks that amused them. They needed to be able to move at the drop of a hat. They lived everywhere and nowhere.
Nomads.
Sojourners.
Borrowers.
What was on their backs was already too much to carry. It didn’t stop Kers from collecting what he did and bringing it with him.
Despite the aching it caused his bones and muscles, Kers trekked through the walls with steady confidence. He had moved many times before, carrying those same things with him everywhere ever since he was a child.
Now was no different.
He would start from scratch and work his way back up to having a home, but he wouldn’t part with these things. It would be difficult. He knew it. But it wasn’t different than anything else he had ever done.
He also knew, as he turned his hip lamp and held it to the ground, that there wasn’t hardly enough dust in between the walls and beams. There were holes from thumb tacks in weird places. It was his next discovery that truly solidified Kers’ suspicions. There was even a small pencil drawing that looked like a simple house with an arrow heading further into the walls.
Excitement and nervousness instantly churned his insides.
I haven’t even been here twenty minutes and already I think there might be someone else living here in the walls.
Kers’ suspicions were confirmed when he wiggled his way through a narrow board that looked like it had been purposefully cut and smoothed over and saw Christmas and fairy lights twinkling around the next corner.
The Borrower swallowed dryly as every possible scenario clouded his mind. This was both the best thing and the worst thing possible.
Best because he didn’t need to start from scratch and had others he could potentially rely on if they were friendly.
Worst because they could see Kers as an enemy. What was worse still was that they didn’t know about Amanda, Parker, and the circumstances surrounding this human mother and Borrower child duo.
Kers had decided over four years ago to help and protect Parker. If that had to be from other Borrowers before Parker was ready for the truth, so be it.
No sooner had Kers made this decision did he hear voices coming from around the corner. They sounded like a mix of ages and genders, but Kers guessed it was a dad and at least three kids, two boys and a girl.
Kers didn’t want to scare them and did the only polite thing to do.
“Hello?” he called, no plan and every prayer to his name.
~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~
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buddiesmutslut · 11 months ago
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Hot Take
BUCK IS THE BEST PERSON TO GIVE DATING ADVICE TO CHRIS, HEAR ME OUT.
Okay, I know we're all laughing about women fleeing Buck and how awful he is at relationships, but I don't feel like that's true.
First of all, just because a relationship ends, doesn't mean that it FAILED. Dating is as much about getting to know YOURSELF, what you want out of a relationship and what your own boundaries are as it is about getting to know the person you're dating. It's about growing, and learning from your mistakes, and I feel like Buck HAS done that. I'm not saying he's a perfect dater (the Taylor/Lucy thing, wtf was that?) but also, he has gotten better.
With Abby, he grew from fuckboy Firehose to someone that is considerate and thoughtful to his partner. (I don't LOVE that we credit Abby for his growth, since he was the one that made the initial boundary to not meet up right away because he didn't want to fall back into that sleep with anything that moves mindset, but she is mostly credited with it canonically, so we're going to use it.) Also, she didn't leave because Buck was a bad boyfriend or anything. She left because she needed to find herself after her mom died, and that's it.
With Ali too, she left because of his job, because she couldn't handle being with a first responder, which is a genuine concern for a LOT of people. It's hard to love someone with a dangerous job like that, and not know if they're going to come home at night. It had nothing to do with who Buck was as a boyfriend.
With Taylor, that whole relationship was a mess, IMO, them getting together when they did was a recipe for disaster. Obviously, Buck shouldn't have asked her to move in because he was scared to tell her about Lucy, but I'm not saying he's a PERFECT dater, I'm saying he's learning, and that's what's important. When he did admit to the kiss, Taylor is the one that decided that it wasn't a hard line for her, or she would have broken up with him, living together or not. It probably would have been awkward and complicated, but it was all of those things when they DID break up later in the series. From this relationship, Buck learned that it's better to be alone than it is to be with someone for the wrong reasons.
He has had a lot of growth from s1 to the end of s6, and that is clear in his dating.
Now, everyone that's saying Eddie should go to Bobby or Chim for advice, I'm going to say this: It's easy to date when you immediately find the person you're going to marry.
Let me be clear, I'm not saying that Madney & Bathena don't have their own struggles within their relationships, but Bobby and Chim got pretty luck, they found women that they clicked with and then eventually fell in love with almost as soon as they went looking.
When Bobby decided he was ready to move on from Marcy, the ONLY person we actually see him dating in the show is Athena, and they end up married.
After Tatiana leaves Chim, and he decides that he's going to be himself and look for a genuine connection, Maddie is conveniently placed in front of him.
I'm not saying that either of them are bad daters, or bad partners or anything, but we don't really SEE them date. Maybe it's because they're older and they already know what they're looking for and what they can and can't accept in a relationship, but realistically, it's wild to think that you're going to fall in love and get married to the first person that you find when you start dating. The majority of people have to date around and actually look to find the person they're meant to be with, not magically find them right out of the gate.
Especially for a FIRST first date, it's all about figuring out how dating works, what is and isn't expected and acceptable and navigating getting to know a new person, as well as yourself, and I think Buck is the clear best option when it comes to experience about women. He's had several girlfriends and also convinced only God knows how many people to sleep with him, so he's obviously charming, and pleasant to spend time within a romantic situation.
Also, God knows nobody is asking Eddie for dating advice, since the man only married his girlfriend bc she was pregnant and then had to be told (BY BUCK) that he deserved to be happy in a relationship instead of sticking it out for everyone else.
Anyway, this has been on my mind ever since that interview came out with everyone making fun of Eddie for going to Buck because he's had (based on what we're reading about Natalia's character) 4 "failed" relationships, but again, I truly believe that a relationship ending does not automatically mean it failed.
Also, Eddie goes to Buck because they're CO-PARENTS & SOULMATES but all of this other stuff too 😂
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writing-whump · 6 months ago
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Unseen wounds
This is a mix of several ideas, but especially ☕️-nonny's request for Arnie in the hospital with a concussion and Hector and Isaiah meeting there after the former has been avoiding him. Lots of brotherly angst. Thanks for the ideas! :D
Isaiah was nervous about leaving the apartment.
But Rip seemed fairly stable, tentatively trying out vegetable broths. Dylan wouldn't leave his side and the presence of the wolfing seemed to have amazing influence. Rip's shadow was simply trusting with him.
Seline sat close by the two boys for a good measure. Her initial apprehension disappeared as she watched the immediate and obvious effect of her presence working on Rip's upset shadow. The way the boy's shoulders sagged and his frown eased was too hard to miss, even if he was still in pain.
The way Seline looked both in awe and torn about the revelation had Isaiah's heart squeezing. He knew she never really got into touch with what her magic could do for wolves, but now she seemed bothered by it. Made him wonder what he could do.
Maybe he could take her see one of the Big Three's training grounds. Show her what other effects she could have.
Matthew kept his distance. He was both, very aware of the boy's injury and his upset shadow and how much more upset it could get with him around.
The further he was from him the more consideration he was showing.
Isaiah could see it was painful for him though. Both the reminder of who Rip was as a stray at their mercy, the state of his shadow Matthew understood so well, and that he couldn't be helping in a more specific tangible way.
Isaiah had not expected Matthew's compassion though. As if the vulnerability Rip was forced into by the injury stirred his protective instincts. Something he couldn't play out fully with Isaiah or Seline with their whole independence issues.
Instead of Matt's shadow being angry and territorial like it was with Caleb, it was vengeful and angry for Rip. Quiet but constant growling came from his chest and although he didn't dare approach, he kept circling around the room like caged, in perfect symmetry.
Isaiah's own torn feelings didn't help the matter.
He checked the trio once more in the room and went out, reminding everyone with a message to call him immediately if something was up.
But he had a breakfast scheduled with Arnie at their favourite coffee shop in the center. It was a welcome distraction.
Isaiah decided to walk there. He could take the car or the tram or the metro just down the street but the crisp morning air before the heat hit was refreshing and to be enjoyed.
There weren't many people up either, though he was sure it would soon start to crawl with tourists.
He reached the park in half an hour, opting for a bench with view of the coffee shop so he could spot Arnie right away. Better they ordered at the same time.
The park was filled with dogs and their owners, also using the early hour to get things done. Isaiah didn't mind dogs. With his shadow pulled back as tightly as it was, they didn't show any agression towards him, even coming by for a stroking with a wiggling tail.
The clock kept ticking. Arnie fancied himself a couple minutes or even quarter an hour late at times, easily losing track of time when styling his hair.
But after 20 minutes past, Isaiah started to get a bit annoyed. He kept glancing at his watch and at the coffee house as if his glare would materialise Arnie at the spot from thin air.
He looked at his phone. No messages, no missed calls, no notifications. What the hell.
This wasn't good. He wanted to keep busy, focus on someone. Not think back at the drama happening in the last two weeks since Dylan brought the torn up kid to their home.
Since hearing Rip's story, seeing how agressive his shadow was and who it decided to protect...he couldn't help feeling for the boy. Both in facing a father he couldn't defeat in time, broken in the worst way. But with such a strong fighting spirit, with such a burning will to live, while feeling guilty for it.
Rip's problem wasn't that he couldn't get the hang of his shadow. It was that he felt too in danger for too long. Strung up too tightly. He could not see wolves or humans as nothing short of threats.
Isaiah knew how he could help with this. But a shadow this experienced to fight and personality this betrayed and distrusting? Rip wasn't ready to accept help or charity for free.
Isaiah also wouldn't have believed kindness could be real after he left. For a very long time everything had to have a price to make sense. He could see the same kind of thinking mirrored in Rip.
Almost an hour since the meeting time with Arnie.
Isaiah dialed his number, annoyed he let his thoughts get away from him before doing so.
Arnie didn't pick up.
Isaiah's first next step would be to call Hector, but his finger hovered over his number.
Something was going on with that too. Hector wasn't picking up his calls or reacting to his messages. When Isaiah called to excuse himself from the weekend meeting, since Rip was still to unstable to be safely left alone.
But Isaiah wanted to talk about the whole discovery of him and about the state of strays and rumors and...and just check if things were still the same. He wanted to face Hector now, healthy and recovered. Get back to where they were, forgetting the sick night in the process.
No such luck. Hector wasn't even giving him that chance.
Isaiah sighed, the movement jostling his finger over the number just enough to make the call. Oh well. Worth a try.
The call kept ringing and ringing and just when Isaiah was about to hang up, Hector answered.
"Hello?" His voice sounded strained, tired.
"Hey, do you know where Arnie is? We were supposed to meet an hour ago." Isaish tried hard not to sound too miffed. Did the kid oversleep?
"Ah, right," Hector said, clearing his throat. "Arnie was in an accident on the way. We are at the hospital right now."
...
"I'm telling you, I'm okay," Arnie said with annoyance. To his credit, his voice was strong, but the hospital gown, the thick bandage around his head or his pale face didn't make it convincing.
"It was a bike?" Isaiah said incredulously.
"Yep. Way more dangerous than cars in Vienna. Cars always stop when you even turn towards the street. But a biker will take you down, as if he was the freaking king of the road everyone shoul—" Arnie winced at his own voice, leaning back with a grimace.
"Don't work yourself up." Isaiah sat down beside him, patting his hand. He rushed to the hospital in a panic that made the road there blurry and forgettable. The fear he felt at the words Arnie and hospital was so icy and intense it reached all the way to his bones.
Hector was there. Of course. He was the one Arnie called with a bleeding and confused head, while bystanders called for an ambulance. In the confusion no one thought to call Isaiah.
Hector got up from Arnie's side at Isaiah's arrival, facing the window resolutely. Isaiah wanted to shake him.
"Seriously. It doesn't hurt that bad. Migraines are a lot worse. This is nothing," Arnie said. For some reason there were dark bruise like circles under his eyes and he seemed shaken, hands all jittery.
"What did the doctor say?" Isaiah couldn't help keeping his hand on Arnie's forearm. His pulse was quick under his touch.
Arnie looked towards Hector expectantly, but when no reply came, he said: "Mild concussion. Head wounds just bleed a lot, it looks all dramatic. They would like to keep me for 24 hours for observation though." He said the last part with a disappointed scowl.
"That's okay. Better to be safe than sorry. And you will be nicely pampered around here, food in bed, TV...anything I can bring you from home?"
Arnie shrugged, winced at the movement again and gingerly leaned back against the cushions. "I can't really...focus on anything. Looking at my phone hurts," the blond said sheepishly.
"That will clear up in no time." Isaiah reached over, brushing Arnie's hair from the bandage. He could smell where about the wound was, the coppery scent stronger on the kid's left side. "What about some sleep?"
Arnie nuzzled his face into Isaiah's hand, closing his eyes. "Uhmmm...maybe. But it's like 10 in the morning."
"So what? Bleeding takes energy out of you."
"Hmmm...you'll stay here?" Arnie's head lolled to the side, towards his oldest brother.
Isaiah chuckled softly, resting his hand on Arnie's shoulder. "Course."
There was an annoyed huff at that and stomping of feet as Hector turned away from the window and grumbled himself out of the room.
Isaiah's lips twisted. "Any ideas what's that about?"
Arnie made a vague sound, but his eyes slipped shut and Isaiah wasn't about to disturb him.
...
Isaiah only left when a nurse came to check on Arnie, checking the little beeping noises and the IV.
He wasn't happy to leave him alone, so he needed to get this handled as soon as possible.
Hector didn't go far, either. The older blond was in the hallway, elbow leaned against the windowsill, with a frown so deep and angry that the whole world should be catching fire from it by now.
"So what exactly is your problem?" Isaiah said. Hector wanted to be angry? Two could play that game.
Hector's head jerked at his voice, but he didn't turn back. "Am not."
"You could have called me sooner, you know? It’s kinda mean to leave me out."
Hector leaned both his elbows on the windowsill, back against the view. "Oh christ, you had to wait for a couple of minutes, big deal—"
"It is a big deal, when one of you is hurt," Isaiah said sternly. "And I want you to spill what's going on with you."
Hector set his jaw tightly, glaring at the wall, only his side towards Isaiah.
They waited in tense silence, a battle of wills.
Isaiah deflated. "Fine. Keep it. But we are not going to fight in front of Arnie. If you—" he swallowed heavily. "If you are gonna be this miserable with me around, perhaps we should take turns? I can go pick some stuff for him and then we can switch and you can take a break or something. One of us should take the night shift and then we'll change in the morning—"
Hector's bushy eyebrows went up, surprise taking over the annoyance. "What? No, you don't have to—"
"You can't even stand to look at me. I'm not gonna stress Arnie out in his state, he is sensitive about it as it is."
Isaiah never should have let that night happen. That was clear now. He shouldn't have come when he felt tired and sluggish. He shouldn't have let Arnie and Hector take care of him, he shouldn't have let them see him like that.
Not if it led to this outcome. To Hector loathing him so much.
Isaiah leveled Hector with a look, green eyes flashing. "It's about that night, isn't it? I understand you are disappointed, but acting like this around Arnie is just irresponsible."
"Disappointed?" Hector unglued himself from the window to face Isaiah, shaking his head, hand running through his hair. "It's not—that's not what this is about. Just...just let me explain."
Isaiah waited. He felt frozen again, Executioner mask on, emotions in a gnarly little knot pushed back safely.
Hector's face went all red and contorted. He was usually so in the face about things, whatever was giving him trouble was downright suffocating.
"It's not that I'm disappointed, for Christ's sake. It's that I'm ashamed." The blond wolf looked down at his feet. "You probably don't remember how—when you were delirious from fever, you were scared of me. And...and I realized why you never let me see, why you never told me—was probably my fault. Because I was that unreliable to you." Hector balled his hands into fists at his sides. Isaiah could see his shadow rippling at his feet, though he didn't actually let it manifest.
"And I don't fucking know what to do with that, okay?!" Hector growled in frustration, his booming voice carrying across the empty hallway. The dark presence of their upset shadows, even if pulled down and back, must have unconsciously kept the personnel from running around them.
Isaiah's eyebrows jumped up, his stoic mask breaking over the sheer surprise. He stepped closer. "I—I don't understand. You are avoiding me because I don't—what?"
"No. That's just me being a coward and running away." Hector's gaze flicked up towards Isaiah and down again.
"But I'm not angry with you. Neither do I blame you," Isaiah said in a stunned voice, daring to get even closer. He was just a touch away from Hector, mirroring his previous position his elbow on the windowsill. "For none of it. It wasn't your fault or your responsibility...seriously, I was out of it, those weren't my real reactions."
"Arnie said you didn't realize you were coming down with something cause your stomach always hurts, when you visit," Hector said in a defeated tone, head jerking up slightly at Isaiah's closing proximity.
Isaiah winced at that. "That's my own problem, not your doing."
"But it's kinda telling about the situation, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry—"
"Oh, don't you fucking dare apologize!" Hector said, finally looking up. His eyes were glittering, face a grimace reflecting the storm inside.
Isaiah wasn't sure what else to say that wouldn't upset Hector more. His heart was hurting at Hector hurting himself over him. Usually, Isaiah preferred to fight off what he didn't want to feel.
But this time, out of sheer confusion at the new situation, at Hector expressing sympathy and regret — it somehow reached through to something frozen solid inside and melted it.
Isaiah leaned into the feeling shaky and unsure, reaching forward to pull Hector into a hug.
Hector stood stony at the touch before wrapping his arms around Isaiah, clutching him with strength.
Isaiah held him, held them both, feeling something cracked and raw inside, knitting itself back together at the contact. Hector's being this emotional over him touched him in a way he didn't expect.
"Shhh. We can fix all of this, okay? I promise. Just stop avoiding me and we'll fix it."
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