#i think this is the first time i’ve drawn cub

[actualori]

somethin weird

[happy-hermit]

OKay um. I kind of wrote this on accident and it is literally nothing that i had planned on writing but. Hope you enjoy it anyway KASJD scar hurt/comfort the beloved <3

( @stiffyck i hope you don't mind the tag just every time i write scar angst i think of you)

Summary: Grian sees Scar's vex wings for the first time.

“Cub said you have wings,” Grian says, apropos of nothing, and Scar almost drops the blocks he’s holding. 

His mouth is suddenly extremely dry, and he has to clear his throat before responding, forcing himself to continue placing leaves along the ground. “Cub is— Cub is a crazy man. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

Grian is sitting on a chest a few feet away, and he shrugs. “I dunno. He seemed pretty sure.” He’s trying to appear casual about it, but Scar can hear the burning curiosity lurking behind his words. Nerves start to writhe in his stomach. 

Cub wouldn’t have said anything on purpose, is the thing. Scar can’t even be mad at him. It had probably just slipped out. Cub wears his own wings a lot more casually than Scar does. Which is to say that Scar doesn’t. Ever. 

It takes Grian talking again to make him realize that he’s frozen in place, no longer building. 

“Look, if it’s— You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Grian says, and when Scar looks at him there’s a hint of worry in the lines of his face, a hint of awkwardness. “You can tell me to buzz off and I’ll drop it.”

“Like it’s hot?” Scar says, just to see the way Grian’s nose wrinkles in irritation. 

Scar laughs softly, and a bittersweet resignation keeps his mouth turned upwards at the corners, afterwards. He puts his leaves back into his inventory and sits down on the shulker in front of Grian with a little sigh. Scar wrings his hands together and avoids eye contact, instead watching a rabbit dig in a nearby field. 

“Cub… might be onto something,” Scar says eventually. “This time.”

“It’s true?” Grian sits up straight with wide eyes, his own wings fluffing out behind him. “But— I’ve never seen them before.”

“I do have some subtlety, I’ll have you know,” Scar says, scoffing playfully. Grian raises an eyebrow. “I do!”

“How do you hide them then?” 

Scar huffs quietly, glancing at Grian and then away again. He doesn’t mean any harm, Scar knows. His eyes hold nothing but curious concern. Maybe it’s time Scar stopped hiding, anyway. 

“It’s okay if you—“

“No, it’s fine,” Scar interrupts, and sends him a little grin. “I guess I could tell you. Now that I’ve proved I can keep secrets.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Grian waves a dismissive hand in the air, but he’s smiling. “I’m very proud.”

“Why thank you,” Scar says, and then he bites the inside of his cheek for a second before continuing. “I use magic to hide them. You know, illusion magic.”

Grian’s eyebrows furrow, and he tilts his head. “That doesn’t… I don’t know, it doesn’t wear you out?”

“Not much.” Scar shrugs. “It’s just habit at this point.”

Grian’s mouth twitches just slightly downward, eyebrows still drawn together, and when he speaks next it’s just a little bit softer. “Why?”

A familiar melancholy tugs harshly at his heart, and Scar lets his eyes drift over Grian’s shoulders to where his wings are shifting behind him, pristine and colorful. “They don’t look like yours,” he says. 

“Well, yeah. You’re vex,” Grian says, and he puts his hand on Scar’s knee. “You know— you know no one here cares about that, right? No one thinks of you or Cub differently.”

Scar laughs softly and avoids Grian’s gaze. “Of course. I don’t— I don’t hide them because of you guys. Promise.”

“Can I see?” Grian asks, carefully, and by the tone of his voice Scar can tell he’s realized how serious it is. How fragile it’s making him feel. Scar twists his hands into the fabric of his pants, swallows, and nods.

“Are you sure?” Grian asks, soft and quiet. He ducks down to look Scar in the eye, nothing but gentle acceptance and slight worry on his face. It makes tears prick at his eyes, and he blinks rapidly. 

“I’m sure,” Scar says, matching his tone. “It’s just— Well, they’re…”

“They’re what?” Grian prompts, and Scar lets out a short laugh that sounds more like a sob.

“They’re ugly,” Scar admits, and his voice breaks, and he feels silly, and he feels small, and he looks away from Grian and laughs at himself; sad and pitiful. “I’m vain, I know.”

“Oh, Scar,” Grian says, like his own heart is breaking.

Scar feels a light touch on his shoulder, and he looks over at Grian, at this person who has made him laugh on countless bad days, at his friend, and he finds it in himself to trust him. To let down his guard for the first time in— Well. For the first time. 

Scar closes his eyes, and he lets the magic slide through his fingers like sand in a sifter. He lets his wings go free. He lets just a bit of his hair turn white. He lets go. Grian inhales sharply, and Scar opens his eyes.

The avian is frozen in place, a hand still floating aimlessly near Scar’s shoulder, and his eyes are fixed firmly on something behind him, wide and horrified. Scar glances over his own shoulder to check on things, and finds pretty much what he’d expected. His wings are floating gently behind him, torn and scarred and ragged. Just barely glowing a soft grey-blue color. They aren’t pretty. Scar knows they aren’t pretty. His chest aches sharply at the sight, and he huffs and turns away. 

Only to meet Grian’s eyes, brimming with fury and fire. His large wings are flared out behind him defensively, talons gripping at the earth below and scraping grass out of the ground. Scar is confronted with the sudden and clear reminder that Grian is not entirely human, either. And he’s mad. Scar blinks in muted surprise.

“Who did this?” Grian asks, voice low and flat and almost deceptively calm. Scar just stares, and Grian looks at him sharply, seething. “Scar. Tell me who.”

At first, Scar thinks to lie. It is an instinct that is quick and fleeting. There is a matching scar on each of his wings, he knows, that are too uniform and precise to have been an accident. He tells the truth. The short version, anyway.

“We met in a woodland mansion. Cub and I, when we were little,” Scar says, heart beating painfully in his chest. “They had us in separate cells, and I would— At night, I would phase through the wall to see him. He didn’t have that kind of magic, but I did, and I was just, lonely, and—” He cuts himself off with a shaky breath, closing his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts.

“That magic comes from our wings,” Scar continues hoarsely, glancing back at his wings and shifting them carefully to get a better look. “When they found— found out what I was doing, they… I guess they kind of cut the source.”

He knows now, that they’d set him up to do it on purpose. He hadn’t been able to phase through any of the other walls, hadn’t been able to escape; he’d only been able to slip through to Cub. The Illagers had just wanted to test if they had the ability. So that they could nullify it as soon as possible. He’d been young, so young, and he’d fallen for it.

Scar cuts a glance at Grian and cracks the smallest of smiles through his watery eyes. “They’re long gone by now,” he says. “I don’t even remember what world we came from. You can’t find them.”

For just a moment, Grian looks like he’s going to try anyway, jaw set and face stony with cold anger, wings poised to take flight. Then he closes his eyes and take a long, slow breath. When he opens them again, he just looks sad.

“What about the rest?”

(A desolate world. The groans of the undead around every corner. Fighting for every moment of continued existence. Sharp pain shooting up his legs.  Clawed, rotting hands grabbing at his wings as he ran. Ripping, tearing—)

“That’s a story for another time, I’m afraid,” Scar says quietly. “Cub and I world-hopped without experience and got separated. My next world wasn’t… Well. It wasn’t great.”

Understatement of the century, but Grian doesn’t have to know that just yet. Though by the look on his face, maybe he already does.

“Do they hurt?” Grian asks eventually, gaze falling gently on his wings, something akin to grief in his eyes. Avians took wings very seriously, Scar knew.

“Sometimes.” Scar shrugs. “Mostly when it’s cold, for some reason.”

Grian starts reaching out, almost like he doesn’t know he’s doing it, and then he jerks his hand to a stop. It takes Scar a few seconds to realize he had flinched.

“Sorry,” Grian says, sounding embarrassed, and he retracts his hand back to his lap. Scar feels a spark of disappointment that surprises him.

“It’s okay,” he says, and then, as casual as he can manage, “You can touch them, if you want. They might feel funny, though.”

“You sure?” Grian tilts his head, and it’s so birdlike that Scar can’t help but crack a small smile. 

“Go for it.”

Grian reaches out again, slowly, watching him carefully, and Scar employs all conscious thought towards keeping his wings still. He can hear his heartbeat rushing in his ears. He’s holding his breath in anticipation. 

The touch is featherlight and soft, just barely grazing the top of his left wing, and it twitches on instinct before settling beneath the touch. It’s strange. It’s foreign. It is terrifying and comforting in equal measures. His chest is alight with a feeling he can’t quite place, and it’s crawling up his throat, choking his voice. 

Grian makes a small inquisitive sound, almost like a chirp, as he carefully runs his hand down to the edge of his wings, gently tracing a scar that he doesn’t know a zombie left. He brushes off a few bits of dirt and smoothes out the thinner parts that are wrinkling under the strain of being hidden for so long, and it’s almost as if Grian is trying to preen him, like he’s trying to find a way, and he’s being so gentle that it almost hurts. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Grian goes still and makes a wounded noise, coming back around to look him in the eyes.

“Sorry,” Scar chokes out, laughing a little and wiping fruitlessly at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Scar. Don’t be sorry.” Grian softly grabs his hands and pulls them away from his face, eyes focused and kind. “Do you want me to stop?”

Scar shakes his head almost frantically, overwhelmed. “No, please— I’m fine, don’t go, don’t go—”

Through his own tears, Scar can just barely make out Grian’s own eyes welling up, and then his hands are being yanked forward and he’s falling into a hug. Grian’s wings immediately rise to wrap around them protectively, brushing gently against his own, and Scar lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes and burying his head into Grian’s shoulder. He’s tired.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Grian says, as firm as it is kind, as if it’s just a simple fact of the universe. As if it is ever that easy. Scar is wounded, and he’s a bit broken, and he’s heard that promise before. He believes it anyway. Grian says it, and he believes it. 

“Okay,” Scar says, muffled against the fabric of Grian’s sweater. “Okay.”

He knocks his wings gently into Grian’s, something warm settling in his chest. 

It almost feels like flying.

[brandstifter-sys]

These Dreams

Chapter 1: Blots                  (Ao3) (must be signed in)

For @dukexietyweek 2023 Day 1 -Tattoo Shop/Florist

Word Count: 1020

Rating: T

Characters: Remus, Virgil

Warnings: ftm Remus, genderfluid virgil, innuendo, dreams

Remus dreams about being a tattoo artist, and he meets someone who catches his attention

---

Remus absolutely loved ink, and he loved meeting new people. He also loved a good mystery. Maybe that's why he was drawn to the florist next door. The man was the furthest thing from sunny and bright, and yet he was always making bright bouquets for weddings and stuff. He wore long sleeves year round and he was always looking over his shoulder as if someone were looking for him. 

Remus was so intrigued that he would stop by the flower shop after work just to talk to the spooky cutie. Even if he did get a little snippy, Remus could say with confidence that he liked this guy. He was down to cuddle! If he ever got that lucky. 

It was a slow day in his parlor. Remus didn't have any appointments booked, everything was clean and restocked, and he was bored, watching videos on his phone. He could let his mind wander if he wanted, but it liked to go to dark places. 

And then the front door opened with a chime. Remus stowed his phone immediately and went to the counter to greet the newcomer. He was not disappointed to see that adorable cub of a man and his patchwork hoodie. 

"Well hello!" Remus cooed and leaned on the counter, "what brings you to the stab station?" 

"That's not the business name," spooky guy said flatly and crossed his arms, "And I'm here to set up a consultation." 

"Oooh, fancy words!" Remus giggled, "I can squeeze you right now!" 

"You mean 'squeeze you in,' right?" 

"That too!" he said, "Come with me to my office and we can work something out." 

Remus practically bounced from behind the counter and led him into the main studio. There were a couple of chairs with inks and needles, and a couch. Remus was happy to flop on the couch. 

"So you're looking for ink, huh?" Remus asked and patted the seat next to him, "Is this your first time?" 

He shook his head and took off his hoodie. His forearms were covered in ink—intricate spiderwebs. Remus was in awe, and on guard. 

"I see you have some spider webs there," he mused. 

"Yeah. I like spiders. I'm trying to cover them up more. I didn't do enough research on the meaning behind them," the man winced, ready to cover up again, “I’m not—I’ve never been—” 

"So you want to get some colorful sleeves to hide the webs before someone mistakes you for a bastard.” 

"Yeah. I uh, have a design and color scheme already," the man grumbled and pulled out a piece of folded paper from his pocket. He handed it to Remus and rubbed his arm. 

Remus unfolded it and grinned at the two pages of images. He loved the grays and purples and he could even see a few spider webs that wouldn't be obnoxious or red flags. It would be the perfect cover! 

"Did you draw this yourself?" Remus gawked, clearly impressed. 

“Yeah, I figured it would be better to have a plan so I could get as much done at once as quickly as possible.” 

“If you don’t have to be anywhere for a few hours, I can do it now!” Remus grinned, “On one condition!” 

“Condition?” the guy hesitated and reached to take his sketches back.

“Yeah, you have to get me a coffee afterwards,” Remus shrugged and kept the paper out of reach, “I think that’s fair.”

The man relaxed and cracked his neck. A coffee wasn’t so bad, and it didn’t have to mean anything. 

“Let’s get started,” he said with a hint of eagerness in his low, droning voice. 

“Take a seat in the first chair, and take some pain killers if you haven’t already—there should be some in the drawer and some water bottles,” Remus said and motioned to the chair in question. He bounced to his feet and skipped over to a counter with a printer set up. He was going to make this the best tattoo ever! 

The man brought his hoodie with him and sat down, not going for the medicine. Remus could appreciate some healthy masochism. He was guilty of being a masochist himself! 

He made a reverse copy of the images on some transfer paper and bopped over to his new client. 

"Okiee dokiee, let's start with lefty!" he giggled and set the right sheet on the counter. 

The man held out his arm and let Remus place the transfer paper on his skin. With a few shifts, he had it in place and held it down. 

Remus grabbed a soapy, damp rag and coated the paper, making sure it would transfer to his skin. His client was shaking slightly, which was understandable. Getting inked could be nerve-wracking. 

“It’s okay,” Remus hummed, “It’ll sting a little, but not like a thousand hornets, but you already know that. Are you just nervous because I’m hot?”��

It was just a little jab to get the guy to crack a smile and relax. Remus was not exactly happy when he went even more rigid. At the same time he was thrilled.

“So, I didn’t get your name before,” Remus said and peeled off the transfer sheet. The man looked up at him with stormy eyes and a cute blush.

“You didn’t ask,” he muttered, “it’s—”

  Remus woke up flailing. He was tangled up in his sheets as he tumbled from his bed. He was going to break his damn alarm clock one of these days! It was inevitable, especially when it decided to interrupt his dreams before they ever got to the good parts!

Remus managed to escape his cocoon of sheets and turned off his alarm. He would have to get to class in an hour, unless his professor canceled. He found his phone and grinned at the notification. Janus had to handle a medical issue and class was canceled! 

Remus immediately went to his desk and grabbed his sketchbook. He could study, but he wanted to draw the tattoo the guy in his dream wanted. Scratch that—he needed to draw it, because he refused to forget it! 

[bluiex]

To try to get over my writer’s block, I’ve decided to write some drabbles of random AUs of mine. Which brought me back to a superhero AU of mine that I enjoy.

Most needed context is that the hero organization isn’t exactly the best kind of people. They defeat villains mainly to get rid of them, not help the people. Scar is the exception to this. Also in this, Grian got kidnapped and experimented on/given powers. With these powers he decides to become a vigilante and take down the heroes. Everyone thinks he’s dead (except Scar, but Scar doesn’t have any idea how to find him). Grian knows Scar is Hotguy, but Scar doesn’t know Grian is Xelqua (his vigilante identity).

—————

HotGuy draws his bow, eyes laser focused on Grian. It’s a horrible twist of fate, he thinks, to have his lover stare at him with such venom in his eyes. Grian knew this day would come, where he’d eventually face Scar, but it didn’t make it any better.

“What’s wrong Xelqua?” Scar says, voice painfully neutral. “Why so silent? My colleagues all say you’re so cocky, what happened?”

It’s easy to be cocky to people you don’t like, Grian thinks bitterly, not your own partner. He’s also worried that Scar will recognize his voice, not that he wants to admit that. He has to anyways, “nothing’s happened, I’m just in the middle of something.”

“Something nefarious, I’m sure,” Scar replies, stance steady, bow still drawn. Grian’s eyes don’t leave it.

“I’m a vigilante, not a villain.”

“You’re trying to take down the hero organization, that’s what villains do.”

“It would, if the hero organization was actually good,” Grian counters. “The heroes don’t care about the people they’re not true heroes.” Grian huffs out a breath and shakes his head, he’s had this argument with Scar too many times before, and that was when Scar trusted him. “Now, I have business to attend to,” Grian says before he could respond. “I’ll see you around, HotGuy.”

Before HotGuy can react, Grian creates a burst of bright light with his magic, taking to the skies immediately after. He hears a surprised shout as he takes flight, soon followed by the sound of an arrow whizzing by after his partner recovers. Grian has already gained too much distance by then, getting safely out of reach. He heads back to the lower class district with a grim frown on his face. He’d been hoping to avoid HotGuy for longer, but he should have known better, Scar’s taken his job as a hero way too seriously. Grian supposes it makes sense, he is the one true hero in this city.

~ ~ ~

Scar isn’t doing so well after his encounter with Xelqua. It was his first encounter with the vigilante who was very different than the others described him to be. Scar should know better then to trust every word said by his colleagues, but it’s hard to not sometimes.

Of course Scar’s problems has less to do with the vigilante himself, more with what he said. What sounded so similar to another avian’s words. Although a lot of things reminds him of Grian.

Scar forces himself to keep himself presentable the rest of his time working. He can’t show any more weakness to them, even if he wants nothing else than to hide in a corner to have a breakdown. But he’s a popular hero, he can’t be seen falling apart. Especially over something so “small.”

His facade dissolves the moment he steps inside his home. Home… Scar looks around at the quiet place. It doesn’t feel much like home anymore. Too quiet, too… empty.

Scar was already thinking too much about Grian earlier, so seeing his partner’s continued absence hits like a truck. Scar drags himself over to the couch and falls face first onto it, burying his head into a pillow.

Void, he misses Grian.

It gets worse after every dead end and faulty lead Scar finds. If only he could get the higher ups to help him, but they already decided he’s dead. Grian can’t just die, it’s impossible to kill him, Scar’s pretty sure.

Scar is also pretty sure that Cub is hacking into the hero organization’s system to help gather info, but he’s resolutely ignoring that fact. Especially because they refuse to help him.

OH I LOVE THIS AU IDEA. Grian being abducted and forced powers onto him.. Hating the hero organization. Perfect perfect perfect. And I'm so happy to see yo writing again <333 I love your writing so much

[out-and-aboot-eh]

Day 10 - Whistler

Turns out sleeping next to a river isn’t as calming as you might think, but the heavy rain helped drown it out a fair bit. The good news is, despite the threat of water coming from every angle, the tent thus far has kept us (and our stuff) dry! We have been especially careful to ensure all zips are closed, nothing is touching the sides and the outer layer is pulled away from the inside, but even so I’m surprised a tent that’s relatively easy to get up/down/pack away has been so good in the adverse conditions, wind aside! Today was a ‘free’ day after breakfast, meaning we could run riot around Whistler, but not before trying some of Megan’s doorstop pancakes, topped with the naughtiest sauce ever created; heaps of brown sugar mixed in with cream. My dentist would be screaming at me reading this blog, but he’s not got the link so, I may have also had a second drenched in Maple syrup. Once hyped up on sugar, G and I did a bit more washing and drying, because the tent may keep us dry when we’re in it, but we’ve spent a lot of time out in the rain and those clothes aren’t getting any cleaner or drier!

With our laundry smelling fresh and dry, we pinched a couple of bin bags from under the sink, dumped it in the tent and headed towards Whistler. We were going to take the bus, but it was running late and like most travels in these parts, the walk was scenic! As we approached the town of Whistler, we were both instantly charmed by its backdrop of misty mountains as we approached the arena that was once home to the Winter Olympics in 2010. It was easy to imagine the buzz that would have been around the area at that time as we made our way in to the town, where our first stop was a little bakery that goes by the name of ‘Purebread’. As this has been a guided tour we haven’t needed to refer to the travel bible aka the Lonely Planet, however this was one of their recommendations and it didn’t disappoint as the picture will attest! G got a couple of different flavoured scones and a coffee to wash them down, all of which is on par with Josie’s which for those that don’t know, is very high praise indeed! I also fancied a scone, but as a self confessed chocoholic also went for a thick cookie/blondie type thing and at last minute requested an ‘ultimate’ brownie, just to fact check that it lived up to the name (it did!)

Whistler has one Main Street that you can walk along with a few twists and turns off in to other parts. There’s a variety of sports shops, clothes shops, souvenir shops and bars, some of which had fire pits, that looked especially inviting as we plodded through the rain. But the pints would have to wait as we had a date with the zip lines. We were originally planning to do a hike, but were drawn in by the cool pictures on the website and suffered with a little bit of FOMO as the majority of the group were also doing it. We couldn’t book the 09:30 slot that they were on, but we did get on to the 12:30 slot, which meant we got to make some new friends, aka a German family and some Canadians, one or two which were local and hosting their friends. With harnesses and helmets fitted we made our way to the gondola led by Murray from Sydney and Jurge from Quebec, the latter was quite the character and responded to every thank you with “It’s a pleasure!”

This may be the first time I’ve been on a gondola, I vaguely recall going on something similar in Switzerland as part of the German exchange ‘06, but that was timid compared to this monster. We managed to squeeze 7 of us in one carriage as it cranked its way up through mist and cloud. In the winter months the mountain below would be covered in snow, with skiers and snowboarder tearing up the dust. But at this time of year it’s open to mountain and dirt bikers, some of which were very small but fearless! Murray said they do get bears on the tracks as he had one jump out in front of him last week. He then proceeded to show us a video of a mother and cub that had taken residence in his back garden earlier in the year for a few weeks. I’ve only had a glimpse of a black bear up a tree as we flashed past it early on in the trip. Thankfully Megan also saw it (as there was a car pulled over looking up) but had she not I don’t think anyone would believe me! Once we reached the top we trekked up to the zip line number one.

The Canadians stepped up first, including one which is afraid of heights, so kudos to him as we were bloody high up! As there were two zip lines we were able to pair up race against each other. The signage (that included a typo and hopefully wasn’t a reflection on their safety checks) suggested a cannonball shape = max speed. Being a fair bit heavier than G it wasn’t long down the line before those extra pancakes started to send me flying ahead. There was a downside to this however, as the rain was pretty heavy at this point and whipping me in the money maker before navigating a 180 so my back took the brunt. It was quite the adrenaline rush, although we peaked early doors as that was the longest/fastest of the zip lines that we’d be doing.

We made our way to 4 other zip lines dotted around the coastal rainforest, so we did end up doing a bit of hiking! It was a great way to explore the wilderness up high in Whistler, even with the waiting in between zips in the rain as the views were incredible and there was always a chance we might see something big and furry! At each platform our guides gave us a short spiel about the surroundings/atmosphere/nature, complete with a bit of show and tell, including a tree that had a huge bear claw scratch on it. The zip lines slowly took us back down to ground level where we could walk back to the start, get out of our gear and thank the guides for keeping us safe. As part of our package we received 20% off of the Irish pub across from the zip lining office, so off we tottered for a well earned pint and some grub.

The food was surprisingly good, as were the portions and it gave us a good chance to warm up and refuel before hitting the shops. On the way through Whistler village I clocked a classic Canadian piece of clothing that I quite fancied so off we went to check it out. I’d describe it as lumberjack meets thick warm fleece hoody. The first pleasant surprise was that it was on discount, the second is that over here I’m a Medium, so despite stuffing my face with the saltiest and sweetest of snacks, I’ve lost weight apparently. After much deliberation and after trying the various colours, including the red (which is the Canadian colour that I couldn’t quite pull off) I opted for a bluey type number. G was also tempted by one but didn’t want to get one that matched mine, so off we went to a few other shops. I was on the eye out for a white t-shirt to complete the look and G was on the hunt for a toque (beany hat) and browsing the stickers and magnets on offer. But there was a greater calling for G, a jacket like mine, so we went back again but she still wasn’t sure… until a third visit when she eventually picked one up in a men’s XS after trying various style and colours and has been wearing it ever since!!

After browsing the shops (some multiple times!) and having a final stroll along the Main Street we met up with some of the gang who were in a bar at the bottom of a very swanky hotel, but had a young clientele (except a few old boys playing pool!) we chilled for a bit, some of the girls played pool and I spent the time typing this same bloody blog entry! Our dinner destination was just next door, The Spaghetti Factory. It was a recommendation from the other G adventures tour group and to be fair it was alright, especially for the price! 3 courses for $25ish dollars! It was a lovely way to cap off the day before a walk back to camp in the rain. Standard!

Georgie’s highlight of the day: Should probably say zip lining, but the bangers and mash at lunch and Spaghetti Factory were pretty good!

[martuzzio]

The idea of Ren joining the Amputees-Only club sounds so bittersweet... cuz before he knew they were having fun, but also knew that they were allowed to have a bond like that. He never expected to join them.

I can honestly imagine in his first few meetings there's a few times where Ren just cries, poor guy...

Rendog's first Amputee's Only Club Meeting (written under the cut because this one is longer than normal)

Despite what the universe seems to think, Doc is a pretty easygoing guy. Yes, he does look scary as hell and yes, he was a mob boss at one point, but that doesn’t mean he’s a violent person. Well, he’s violent when he needs to be, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. In reality, his favorite moments are all from quiet parts of his normal, boring, daily life as a hermit.

In these everyday moments, Doc likes to process things. He likes to sit in the greenhouse and watch the bio bees work alongside the robot bees. He likes to brush his fingers on the plants and let his half-robotic brain process the data into something that resembles touch. He likes to listen to Grian and Etho chat as they work.

He observes small moments like these because that’s all he really does. He takes in data and processes it. He uses the processed information to judge his surroundings and react accordingly. Sometimes this means that he uses his data to laugh at his friends who make dumb jokes. But sometimes he uses the data to run, hide, or fight back. When all you do is process data to keep yourself alive, it becomes very hard to ignore incoming information.

This is how Doc eventually locates Ren. He wasn’t planning on finding where his longtime friend wheeled off to, much less go searching for him, but Doc unfortunately decided to take a more leisurely route to the bridge and his camera eye caught the slight movement anyway. Doc has to give it to him; the man knows how to hide. The werewolf is in a lesser-used community room, curled into a dusty couch that’s been shoved into the corner. The chrome wheels of his temporary mobility aid reflect off of the window overlooking deep space. Ren has his left leg drawn up to this chest. His stump of a right leg rests on the couch cushion, shunned. Ren’s obviously hid because he doesn’t want to be found, but unluckily for him, Doc was specifically altered to notice things.

Ren’s flinch when Doc claps his hand on his shoulder is almost unnoticeable. Ren looks like he’s either been crying or had a bad allergic reaction to the dust. Doc assumes the former.

“Cub was working on your new parts earlier today. They look pretty sick,” he ventures.

Ren looks like he has the entire universe on his shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” he mumbles. He opens his mouth as if to say more, but instead sighs and slides his eyes shut.

Doc plops down on the couch and slings his arm over the back of the rest. The action makes Ren recoil again, this time more visibly, and Doc pointedly ignores it. Instead, he says, “As much as I want you to come see what Cub is making, you will go to him when you feel like it. There is nothing you need to do right now besides heal.”

Ren barks out a wet laugh. “Bro, I appreciate you so much, but how can stumps heal?”

Doc’s cybernetic hand twitches in sympathy. “You know what I mean, man, and we both know it.” Doc replies. He looks down at the sliver of space between his leg and Ren’s and chews his words. Ren shifts his gaze to Doc’s arm, then to gaze directly at the creeper’s face.

Doc feels uncomfortable in a way he’s never felt before. All of the other amputee hermits were already amputees when they joined the crew. They had time to heal, be angry, and let go in their own ways. He did, too. But now, with Ren sitting next to him, suffering through the same kind of anguish Doc felt when he first woke up from being operated on, Doc suddenly doesn’t know how to act. How do you comfort someone who literally lost a third of their body? As much as Doc knows what that feels like and as much as he wants to help his friend, he might not be able to. He might not ever be able to.

It’s the single most heartbreaking thing that Doc’s realized in a long, long time.

This revelation causes the duo to sit in silence for a long while. Then, Doc gets an idea. His eye shifts to look at his friend. Ren narrows his eyes tiredly but waits anyway.

“The Amputees-Only Club meeting is in a few minutes.” Doc murmurs. Ren is silent, but he plows on. “I think you should come,” he pleads. “I think everyone would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s throat clicks as he swallows. “I’m sure they would.”

“I would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s eyelids squeeze together. “I know you would.”

“Then let’s go,” Doc insists as he pushes himself to his feet. He turns around and smiles as much as he can at his friend, still curled up on the couch. Ren gazes exhaustedly back. “I think it would be a good idea.” He wishes his smile weren’t so frightening.

Ren moves to rub his eyes with his hands but remembers he’s missing one of his arms a little too late. The resulting crumpled expression immediately burns into Doc’s deep storage memory. “I don’t know, Doc.” The werewolf manages after a long moment. “I appreciate you trying to help, but…”

Doc understands. Of course he does. When he first joined the hermits, the idea of a weekly club meeting exclusively for amputees sounded farfetched at best and belittling at worst. Hell, he didn’t even think there were enough amputees on the team to warrant a club. Imagine his surprise when three other people showed up to his first session, all excited he was there to hang out with them.

With this in mind, all he can do is repeat, “I think it would be a good idea.”

Ren stares up at him, and in that moment, he looks as old as Xisuma. But then he gently closes his eyes, inhales slowly and shallowly, and motions for Doc to drag his mobility aid closer. Doc complies immediately.

The journey to the meeting room, like every other journey on the Hermit Craft, is long. It’s made even longer because of Ren’s inexperience with his aid, but Doc doesn’t dare to offer his help. They eventually end up in front of the elevator that Doc remotely called beforehand with his brain chip. When the doors open, Doc lets Ren wheel in first.

Ren is silent in the elevator. Doc tries to catch his expression, but his friend’s unruly hair blocks his vision. “We’re playing cards tonight.” He mentions.

“That’s what you do at every Amputee-Only Club meeting.”

Doc shifts his eye back to the elevator door. “…Correct.”

Ren doesn’t reply.

When the duo finally reaches the Club meeting room, Doc pauses outside for a moment instead of directing his brain to open the door like normal. He glances down at Ren again and murmurs, “if you don’t want to go back, or to your room or something, that’s—”

“It’s fine,” Ren interrupts. He sounds defeated. “We walked all the way here, so we may as well go.”

Doc activates the door without another thought.

The door slides open and reveals the club room. It’s small, smaller than the average community space on the Hermit Craft, but it feels warm. The soft yellow color painted on the walls matches pleasantly with the yellow of the couch cushions. Joe definitely was the one to orchestrate that. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner that’s set up to have nice views of outer space. Various game tables fill the rest of the room, a few surrounded by five chairs. Doc wonders if Ren will notice the new chair addition. Maybe he already had.

The most interesting part of the space, though, is the people within it. TFC is bundled up on the couch, snoring pleasantly and covered in at least ten blankets. His usual plate of cookies is already half eaten. Iskall is standing at the kitchen counter, fiddling with a teacup filled with a mysterious bright pink liquid. His outfit has a few suspicious-looking singe marks at the hem. Finally, Scar is sat at the poker table in the middle of the room, crossed legs resting on an adjacent chair. He’s sorting through a pile of yellow and orange chips. To Doc’s continued wonder, the stack of bright blue cards resting near Scar’s elbow have miraculously not been knocked onto the floor yet.

When the doors open, Scar and Iskall look over. Ren immediately shifts at Doc’s elbow. Doc waits a moment to let Ren speak if he wants to, but when his shorter friend remains silent, he clears his throat in a grinding noise and announces, unnecessarily, “We’re here.”

Scar is so excited that his eyes have turned into little slivers of green. “Ren, I’m so happy you decided to tag along!” He kicks one of the chairs out from the table and clonks his foot on it for emphasis. The blue cards wobble on the edge of the table but still refuse to fall. “Sit down! Iskall can get you something to drink. Have you ever played poker?” He leans forward with the question. “It’s difficult, but I think it’s fun!”

“Uh, I haven’t.” Ren replies awkwardly, still at the door alongside Doc. “I’ve never even heard of it before.”

“Yeah, I would be surprised if you knew about it. It’s one of those old-timey games from TFC’s era.” Iskall says from across the room. He is now by the couch and is gently patting TFC’s fluffy hair to wake him. “Don’t worry that you don’t know. We’ll teach you.”

Ren tries and fails to make a pointed noise of interest, but he still seems intrigued. Doc feels the knot in his chest loosen a little. He rolls his shoulders to relieve some tension and moves to sit down. By the time he turns his head to look back, Ren is already wheeling forward to join him but looks lost as to where he should sit.

“Howdy, Ren. Sit next to me so I can teach you, but I’ll only teach if you’re willing to listen.” TFC, now awake, grumbles good-naturedly as he heaves himself off the couch. With his large frame still wrapped in a dozen blankets, he looks like a huge bear compared to Iskall. Which is impressive, Doc thinks, since Iskall is nowhere near frail. TFC’s metal prosthetic clonks on the floor as he walks over to the poker table. As he sits down across from Scar, he says, “There’s no point in just sitting there and gawking at us. Grab a seat.” He uses his leg to nudge the chair to his left.

Ren blinks and maneuvers his aid to let him sit down next to the astronaut. TFC procures a blanket from his pile and offers one to him. Ren, after slowly settling in his chair, accepts the pink fuzzy blanket. Doc accepts a purple one.

TFC lances over to Ren as he saves the blue cards from the edge of the table. “Poker’s good fun. You’ll get it in no time.” He snorts and flicks his gaze to Scar, who is busy stacking the chips into a pyramid. “This one always makes sure we have a great, long game.”

Scar looks up and winces minutely in a false apology. “Sorry about that.”

TFC chuckles. “Boy, I’ve never had better games than when I play with you.”

Scar’s grin almost sparkles. TFC and Doc grin back and Iskall hides his laugh in his shoulder.

“Anyway, ready for your first game with us amputees?” TFC brings the conversation back to Ren, who suddenly looks a lot more uncomfortable.

“I,” he begins, his eyes flicking to TFC, then Doc, before looking down. “I, well, uh…”

The table is silent. Iskall is staring at the table with his hands in his lap. TFC sighs and begins shuffling the cards. Doc, as much as he wants to clear the air somehow, can’t seem to find a way to do so. Scar just looks sad. He looks right at Ren, almost through him.

Ren stares back, eyes wide.

“You don’t want to be here.” Scar says quietly, finally. It’s not a question. Ren’s choked response makes the ex-convex smile slightly. “You can say so, Ren. You’re not going to hurt our feelings. None of us want to be here. But, as much as we may want to, we can’t change what happened to us.” He falls silent again as he looks at a particularly twisted scar on the back of his left hand. He rubs at it harshly with the pad of his thumb before Iskall stops him. “This might be selfish,” Scar continues, softly, “but I’m happy that I at least don’t have to sit in here alone.”

For a long moment, the table is silent. Then, with a rush of noise, Ren makes a sound like he’s dying. In a certain way, Doc thinks, he is.

“I don’t want to be here,” Ren confesses as his open mouth contorts and tears roll down his face. “I don’t want to be here.”

All Doc can do is wrap his arms around everyone else, encasing Ren and his other amputee friends in his embrace, and wish he could do more.

[edenmemes]

assassin’s creed valhalla starters

words within ‘()’ are additional, optional choices! more maybe to be added at a later date. some n/sfw present. 

❝ you should see the other man. he got the worst of it. ❞   ❝ and who better to lead us to glory than me? ❞ ❝ i am most at home helping others. ❞       ❝ i’ve waited long enough for you, and you for me. ❞   ❝ thank you for not saying anything about my past. ❞       ❝ know that however far away, you’re always in my thoughts. ❞   ❝ when you see your god, tell them i sent you. ❞   ❝ what you make up in muscles, you’re lacking in spine. ❞   ❝ i almost envy you, to see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. ❞   ❝ i smell the stink of a dozen kingdoms in your beard. ❞   ❝ this feud is not yours, yet you fight it all the same. i find that strange. ❞   ❝ by the look on your face, you have lost your will to live. ❞   ❝ my arms are numb from battle. does it need any dressing?    do you think it is a serious wound? ❞   ❝ oh dear. this is not how i foresaw things. not at all! ❞   ❝ should we take this to your chamber? ❞   ❝ i want this. i want you. ❞   ❝ turn around, walk away, and you keep your insides inside. ❞   ❝ stay back! back! i will fight you! ❞   ❝ you look like reddened shit. what happened? ❞   ❝ i have always wanted to experience the world as you do. ❞   ❝ you come like a valkyrie out of a fog. but i have no dead to give you. ❞   ❝ all right, stay close and do as i do. ❞   ❝ home. or...it was home, once. now it is nothing but bone. ❞   ❝ i’ll have no qualms wiping clean your grin. ❞   ❝ just take care. such hatred can make you careless. ❞   ❝ away from your table for a day and you are already lusting for blood. ❞   ❝ if i did not know any better, i would say you are teasing me. ❞   ❝ the dream of new lands is a powerful lure. ❞   ❝ i love climbing up here. makes me feel as high as a raven. ❞   ❝ if i don’t find your horse, i will steal you a new one. ❞   ❝ i feel somewhat trapped. in this room, in this settlement, in this life. ❞   ❝ you are lost in a sea-storm of your own making. ❞   ❝ the poet in you sings once again. ❞   ❝ tonight, we will eat and drink like gods and wake in a kingdom made new. ❞   ❝ i wish i understood you better. for those i do not understand, i do not trust. (and i cannot stomach a lack of trust.) ❞ ❝ i’ve been called worse. ❞   ❝ you have nothing to fear from me. i bear you no ill will. ❞   ❝ you are a shadow of your father. weak and witless. ❞   ❝ what is this? is this...are we in hell? ❞   ❝ keep company with kings and you will soon have a crown of your own. ❞   ❝ a toothless cub may grow to be a dangerous wolf. ❞   ❝ you are far too young to speak so wise. ❞   ❝ i need clear, sound judgement. i need you. ❞   ❝ kind and courageous people live the best lives, but it can be a difficult path to keep. ❞ ❝ i want to say...i love you. and i have for some time. ❞ ❝ you smell that? the stink of jealousy. (of our budding friendship, i think). ❞   ❝ ah, while i have you, i’m reminded...i have this for you. ❞   ❝ your lies are just like you. big and bold. ❞   ❝ don’t excuse yourself. you enjoy this too much. ❞   ❝ you've come back. why are you wasting your time with me? ❞   ❝ care to sing a song? helps me pass the time. ❞   ❝ that is twice you have earned my admiration. ❞   ❝ you have only the setting sun to tell you when to stop. ❞   ❝ i want to know what you know. name your price. ❞   ❝ people like you deserve something worse than death. ❞   ❝ they called me a lout, a disgrace. they were right. ❞   ❝ i will have to get used to watching the sights of war from afar now. ❞   ❝ there’s no other way. fight or hide. it’s up to you. ❞   ❝ do not think me a coward. i am not afraid of war. ❞   ❝ friendships end. often at the point of a spear. ❞ ❝ i will make you beg as your father begged. ❞   ❝ (until that time,) it would be best to keep all discussions about...    about us to yourself. ❞ ❝ without you i would have lost my way a thousand times. ❞   ❝ you have no other friends. so tread lightly here. ❞   ❝ be it a blessing or a curse, family is always first. ❞   ❝ let’s not walk too far with that idea. i need you right where you are. ❞   ❝ you bested me. yet, i’m the one left standing. ❞   ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you at least. ❞   ❝ you and your people here have done more for me than i could ever repay. ❞   ❝ you have my highest respect, regard, and trust. ❞   ❝ you’re not shy, are you? ❞   ❝ if we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold. ❞   ❝ does this have the stench of betrayal to you? ❞ ❝ today has meant so much. we rode, we fought, we drank, we laughed. (you showed me your world.) ❞       ❝ your end was written the moment you came for me. ❞   ❝ i am a sellsword. i ask what i please, and i take what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ you move and i will take your eyes. you hear me? ❞   ❝ i will leap first. on my word, you must follow. ❞   ❝ many times i wished to tell you. wished to say what was in my heart and what i desired. (but duty kept me from it.) ❞   ❝ these wounds will heal quickly. you’re lucky. ❞   ❝ anything to help you feel at home. ❞   ❝ our friendship is the best thing to come from this mess. ❞   ❝ you will be remembered for this, for years to come. ❞   ❝ i thought i had lost you. for good this time. ❞   ❝ you have shown me a great kindness. it is only fitting that i do the same. ❞   ❝ the mess you’re in...you don’t know the half of it. ❞   ❝ you have drawn a dark conclusion about me, haven’t you? (that is all well and good. i’ve drawn some about you as well.) ❞   ❝ you seem...strangely familiar. ❞   ❝ here i am, an upright man who never once learned how to bend the knee. and yet...i shall try. ❞ ❝ that’s a bread knife. do you mean to butter me? ❞   ❝ is that not something you worry over? ❞   ❝ a blind pursuit of vengeance has made you predictable. ❞   ❝ no matter where you are, or how far you travel, i will hunt you down. ❞   ❝ i came for you, looking for a friend and ally. ❞   ❝ people change.    it may be that you change with them, or you go your separate ways. ❞   ❝ i wish you whatever peace you may find in this new life you’ve found. ❞   ❝ i want your word: you will follow my orders. ❞   ❝ the day is new, and the air is bracing. are you ready for the fight ahead? ❞   ❝ er...good to meet you as well? ❞   ❝ what riches are worth so much misery, and the deaths of honorable men and women? ❞   ❝ my destiny is mine to weave. ❞   ❝ my road forward has been a muddy one. slick with blood and tears. (but we can reach its end together.) ❞   ❝ it is a wise leader who considers the needs of others. ❞   ❝ i think my mouth has gotten me in enough trouble today. ❞   ❝ at the end of all things, you will find yourself with nothing but your regrets. ❞   ❝ you saw fit to keep me guessing through your fits of madness. ❞   ❝ by all the gods, what was that? ❞   ❝ i was...restless. a quiet walk alone clears the head. ❞   ❝ when winter is past, summer will come and wind you in a flowered skirt, for you are beauty and shall not wither. ❞   ❝ ...unless you had a more interesting day planned for us? ❞   ❝ i do hope you see it now, for all you have done for me. ❞   ❝ your passion, your strength. i have never met such a burning soul. ❞   ❝ i have no guilt nor regret for what we have done, but we should be careful. ❞   ❝ i see before me a person full of passion, vigor, and a love for their people. ❞   ❝ if i wanted to hear you talk shit, i’d cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass. ❞   ❝ you! you look stronger than most of the others. ❞   ❝ your hatred for me burns bright. i could warm my balls on it. ❞   ❝ you’re quite like your arms: incredibly thick. ❞   ❝ i fought as i do, as hard as i do, to survive. (for i know what awaits us in the end. only darkness.) ❞   ❝ a shameful trick. you are your father’s child. ❞   ❝ you destroyed my life. i will take yours. ❞   ❝ you snore a little, like a wounded bear. ❞   ❝ that’s when i knew i would live and die for you. ❞   ❝ i’m going to pretend your last words were taken by the wind. ❞   ❝ i might still kill you yet, if your prattling doesn’t cease. ❞   ❝ you are weak like your father was weak. (you dance better than you fight.) ❞   ❝ have you ever seen muscles as massive as mine? ❞   ❝ i’m honored by your faith in me. and your confidence. ❞   ❝ after my missteps, i worry what you must think of me. ❞   ❝ with so much blood in the water and death in the air, i’d like to know your name and purpose. ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling about this place. ❞   ❝ you helped me reclaim what i had lost in myself. ❞       ❝ you speak of honor. where’s yours? ❞       ❝ you will throw away all reason to defend what you sworn to. ❞       ❝ you really are like a hero out of folk tales. ❞       ❝ how much would you sacrifice to be freed of fate’s shackles? (would you give your tongue, your hand, your sight?) ❞   ❝ there’s no power strong enough to do what you say. ❞       ❝ please, you must fight for me.    who knows what vile people might come to harm me? ❞   ❝ i have no need to count my kills. they number too many. ❞   ❝ i appreciate you for all of your qualities. ❞ ❝ not even the gods can change fate. ❞       ❝ i think it is time i take my leave. ❞ ❝ you really thought my life was in danger? (and you risked your own life...) ❞ ❝ the path ahead is bright, with glory at its end. ❞ ❝ it is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. do not let false victories blind you to what is true. ❞ ❝ the act of leaving so beloved a home, there is a sadness to it. ❞       ❝ so there’s nowhere...you call home? ❞   ❝ all things end. ruins are not a warning, they are a testament. ❞   ❝ be nice to sleep in a real bed when this is over. ❞   ❝ in my sleep i dream. and in my dreams i see an end to the doom that will grip the earth once again. ❞   ❝ even when we win, we lose. ❞   ❝ i am as good with my lips, as i am with my tongue. ❞   ❝ is this your idea of a pleasant ride through the country? ❞   ❝ no whispering god brought me here. i brought myself. ❞   ❝ i would like very much to pass some time with you. ❞   ❝ ...and that’s how i got that scar. ❞   ❝ do i now haunt your dreams? ❞   ❝ it was never in their character to lead, it was always within yours. ❞   ❝ so easily wounded by words. imagine the ruin my axe would inflict on your flaccid ego. ❞   ❝ i have felt this way for some time now. i care for you. ❞   ❝ i have not felt safe since then. not really. ❞   ❝ how long have you been chasing me? seventeen winters? eighteen? ❞   ❝ you are not always to be trusted. your passions overcome you. ❞   ❝ i like you. you may help me here or step on me...and by the look of you i’d welcome either. ❞   ❝ it is good to have you in this fight. ❞   ❝ you need only know my impressive scale and flawless build. ❞   ❝ i am better than any man here. ❞   ❝ i can tell by looking at you, you are not a great warrior. (you know it too, there is no reason to deny this.) ❞   ❝ i am looking for honor, and have become lost as a result. ❞   ❝ many apologies. you are no child, simply a frail and fully-grown fool. ❞   ❝ i was stupid, selfish, reckless, blind, boneheaded, and i smell like blood and shit. ❞ ❝ anything to say for the mess you led us to? ❞   ❝ how was your...first kill? ❞   ❝ you squirm like that and my axe will miss your neck! unpleasant for both of us. ❞   ❝ i know you would defy me to the death, fighting for a glorious end.     that i will not allow. ❞   ❝ most men choose to be loud or stupid. impressive, that you managed both. ❞   ❝ you are a great warrior. conquerer of this land and that of your birth. ❞   ❝ you’re chasing shadows like a madman howling at the moon! ❞   ❝ quite a hit you took. how many were lost? ❞   ❝ well fought! even if your wits were somewhat rattled. ❞   ❝ we suffered no losses in this fight, and the men who humiliated us are dead. what is there to say? ❞   ❝ i would like to be close to you. ❞   ❝ if you are a warrior with honor running like sunlight in your veins, then you may help me fulfill my destiny. ❞ ❝ you are a long way from any warm hearth, warrior. Is this where you call home? ❞ ❝ am i to go the rest of my days without love or attention? i think not. ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ the others, they are like clubs. blunt and ungainly, you are nimble, like a knife. ❞   ❝ people with eyes that gleam like yours are always up to something more. ❞   ❝ only a fool stays awake all night worrying. you are tired when you get up, and the problem is still not solved. ❞   ❝ i liked you from the first. i saw something in you that captivated me. (as if a forgotten memory of an old friendship had suddenly resurfaced.) ❞   ❝ you've done nothing but give me your blind word! ❞   ❝ did you bring me any treasure? ❞ ❝ the woodsmoke from your firepit does sting the eyes. but the warmth is welcome. ❞ ❝ it is not something i can speak on. or wish to. ❞ ❝ i'm with you. only say the word. ❞ ❝ until we cut off this serpent's head, it will poison us, day by day, drop by drop. ❞ ❝ get some rest and return here at first light. ❞ ❝ i missed having you at my side. how i wished i could have taken you along on my travels. ❞ ❝ i do not like this, but i will not stop you. ❞ ❝ i have waited too many years for this day. when ___ stands before us, give me the final blow. ❞ ❝ why do you carry such a useless burden? let it go. ❞ ❝ i have waited years for this, but i will not risk losing it through rashness. ❞ ❝ i cannot fathom your game. you are either a young fool...or deceptively wise. ❞ ❝ your confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight. ❞   ❝ it’s good to be here, with you and your people. (i feel my life has found a new road.) ❞   ❝ there has always been war, even among the gods. ❞       ❝ my honor has been stained. until it's wiped clean, i want nothing else. ❞ ❝ i lack the patience for pole fishing. i would have better luck with my bow. ❞   ❝ if we tell all our stories, we’ll be here for a week. ❞ ❝ can you teach me the art of archery? ❞   ❝ bury the past. build the future. ❞       ❝ i missed you. your clear head and your courage. (we have not had enough of both in recent months.)   ❞   ❝ i have a good feeling this war is near its end. ❞ ❝ explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands. (do you mock me?) ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ my love for you rises tall and strong, like the tree of life. ❞   ❝ the prize is some of my time. (a walk in nature, maybe more if that is where our conversation takes us.) ❞ ❝ together, we are unstoppable. ❞ ❝ it is natural to fear change. to resist it. (but all things change, and all things end.) ❞ ❝ you said nothing of this to me, not a word. ❞ ❝ so long as men and women fight to secure honor and freedom, their allegiance hardly matters to me. ❞ ❝ i care for you. i do not know how to say it any other way. ❞   ❝ love can burn brighter near death. ❞ ❝ i knew this would be difficult, but sometimes the weight bears down heavily. ❞ ❝ you are young and still foolish, so i will spare you your life. (but cross me again or harm anyone i cherish, and you will join your friends in hell.)   ❞ ❝ if you are as brave as you appear, you will come. ❞ ❝ this is not a natural quiet. it's as if a curse has befallen this place. ❞ ❝ there was a curse here long before i came along. ❞ ❝ we’ll forge a warrior from your softness, hammered on the anvil of war. ❞ ❝ you are different than the kind my flights of fancy attract. burdened, decorated and…delicate. ❞ ❝ i do not know what else to say. m-my memories are faint, hazy. ❞ ❝ how are you doing? you survived a serious blow. ❞   ❝ we’ll weave our sagas together, thread upon thread. ❞ ❝ i try to use my knowledge to help others. i am only a threat to those who fear the unknown. ❞   ❝ slap some moss on that gash and wrap it well. ❞   ❝ a knife to the back is a wound that never heals. ❞       ❝ with me you have wisdom! glory! power! what more do you need? ❞       ❝ if your hell is real, i’m glad you’ll get to see it. ❞   ❝ to fight beside such legends is an honor. (i've only heard tales of your conquests. now i get to live them.) ❞   ❝ i have tried to live well. it is enough that the gods know that. ❞ ❝ a cloud hangs over you. is something wrong? ❞   ❝ you have plunged my city into chaos. ❞   ❝ my sword is gore-greedy. i am ready to fight. ❞   ❝ accept your fate and die a coward, here before your people... and i will spare the rest. ❞   ❝ you would take the rescue for yourself, so the victory song is written about you? ❞   ❝ kneel, and i will spare your life. ❞   ❝ it has been some time. what brings you so far to see me? ❞

[bokettochild]

Ooh for a fluff piece you should do Hyrule and Warriors and something with claustrophobia (although that has the potential for angst real fast so feel free to ignore me)

Oops, I think my hand slipped.....

(Sorry I didn't get to this for so long, I've been crazy busy and wasn't sure how to approach writing angst until people apparently started crying at my attempt at crack :)

Glass.

Glass walls and a glass floor. A cork ceiling and too little air, too little space to breathe, too little space to function.

Hyrule’s breath hitches again with a silent whimper, his glow fading slowly with every second spent inside of his prison. Outside, he can hear the reverberating shouts of the others, fear and worry in their voices as they call out, likely shouting for him, looking and worrying and screaming in concern.

‘I’m right here!’ He wants to call back, wants to wail to the glass walls that press closer and closer around him. ‘Guys, I’m here, let me out!’ But they won’t hear. They won’t hear his tiny voice, especially not when it’s trapped inside this glass prison.

“Any sign?” The vet’s voice is strained and desperate, violet eyes flickering with fear as they dart from one tired Hero of Courage to another. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”

“Nothing.” There are tears in Sky’s eyes, and even if he’s clearly trying to be strong for the others there’s a heavy slump to his shoulders as if the weight of all of their problems hangs from them. “Twilight and I looked all over, his trail just...ends...”

“He’s got to be somewhere!” Wind protests, voice breaking and fists clenching as the sailor looks over each of them, fear and worry in the kid’s eyes as he stubbornly denies the report Twilight gently gives the rest of them.

It’s not a pretty sight.

Hyrule had only wandered off for a minute while they’d all freshened up in the stream near their camp, but that was all the time needed for him to disappear, tracks ending suddenly and no sign of him, not even a droplet of blood or a broken blade of grass left behind for them to track him with. It was Four who noticed, and while jokes and laughter had sounded as they all teased each other about the Traveler getting lost, the jokes had faded when Twilight had come back, eyes shining with worry as he informed them of Hyrule’s lack of a trail.

All mirth had died then, and eight dripping heroes had abandoned all save their weapons to search for their brother. Their cheeks redden in the cooling night air, Four sneezing occasionally as he pulls his tunic over his head while they speak. None of the others bother, standing about in all states of dress as they consider what to do.

“We’ve searched everything within two miles.” Wild murmurs pensively. “And there’s only one trail, even Hyrule can’t cover his tracks so well that Twilight can’t find him.”

“But I can’t find him, Cub.” Twilight’s voice is almost a whine, eyes pained as the rancher sits with his head in his hands. “There’s no signs! It’s like he just, vanished!”

Time’s heavy hand comes to rest on his protégé's shoulders, rubbing gently over them in an attempt at comfort that Twilight shows no interest in accepting.

They’re worn, Warriors sighs to himself. His brothers have been pushing themselves for weeks and today was meant to be a day of rest and rejuvenation beside the river. But here they sit, worry carving lines across the faces of even their youngest, shoulders drawn up close to ears or slumped in resignation. It’s been hours, Hyrule should be back by now.

Sky’s tired gaze meets his own over the heads of the younger heroes, there’s determination fighting against reassignment inside of sapphire blue, but Sky forces a weak smile for his sake, silent words passing between the two before both nod in finality. “There’s no sign-”

“We know that Sky!” The vet snaps, hands buried in his still dripping hair. “Twilight, you have your things, right?” The vet asks pointedly, breath hitching and coming in short little bursts as he looks up to the rancher.

Twilight nods, dropping one hand to tug at something hidden under his collar “Yeah.”

“Does Hyrule has any items that let him fly? Oh Nayru! I should have asked him!” The vet’s panicking now, and it’s agitating the younger heroes as his feet tap nervously at the ground, hands shaking as they run repeatedly through his bangs and tap against his thighs.

Wind’s worrying at the hem of his tunic and Wild scratches at his scars, and Warriors has no doubt that if Four wasn’t shivering and wrapping himself in his arms that the smithy would also be fidgeting nervously.

Sky sighs heavily, grabbing his sailcloth from the ground and wrapping it around the smithy’s shoulders carefully. “Like I said, there’s no sign so far. But we have to trust in Hyrule’s abilities. The traveler’s a tough egg, he doesn’t break easily and he knows what he’s doing in a forest, especially a dangerous one.” The Skyloftian shoots Legend a pointed glance, cutting off the young veteran before he can start fussing again. “It’s getting dark and we won’t be able to see, and if we’re too loud and keep disturbing the forest, we’ll only alert any monsters that might be around here to our presence. We’ll make camp here for the night and keep looking in the morning, after everyone has a warm meal.”

“He’s out there!” Legend insists.

“And he’s strong. I can’t help Hyrule right now, none of us can, not in this darkness. But I can make sure you all rest and get something to eat.” Sky’s voice gentles as he lays a hand on Legend’s bare shoulder. “We’ll find him, Bun, have a little faith in the traveler.”

The vet looks instants away from protesting, from shouting something harsh that he probably doesn’t mean. He’s worried, they all are, but Legend responds worst of all of them to injury or illness, and his protégé going missing doesn’t seem to be an exception.

It’s Time’s voice that cuts through the tension, face stern as he meets the veteran’s eyes.  “Rest. We’re no good to Hyrule if we can’t walk a straight line. Cub,” Wild’s ears prick forwards, attentive and eager for orders. The little soldier shows his training, even though he might not remember it; eager for a task to complete to distract from the tension, needing a job to focus on instead of his own spiraling thoughts. It draws a tiny smile to Warriors’ face as he watches. “Could you mix up something warm for everyone? We’ll eat and head to bed, Sky and I can take first watch, Warriors and Wild will have second,” Always best to put the two war heroes together on second watch, less chance of waking the others with their nightmares. “And Twilight and Four can take second.”

Again, Legend looks like he might protest, but their leader fixes him with a stern look. “Vet, try to sleep, please.”

Little chance of that, he muses, watching as the vet huffs and kicks at the dirt, Legend’s a worrier, even if he would never admit it, and if anyone’s going to be up all night long fussing and fidgeting, it’ll be him. What Warriors wouldn’t give to pull Ravio along just this once so that the merchant can calm their friend, he doesn’t know how he does it, but Ravio and Hyrule both have a magic touch when dealing with the ornery teenager.

“Help me get Four settled.” Sky nudges Legend’s shoulder gently. “But get dressed first.”

Tasks. That’s right, give everyone something to do to take their mind off of worrying and running wild with imaginings that will only fuel anxiety and nightmares.

“Wind,” The sailor turns to him with pinched brows, but the kid calms significantly at the sound of his captain voice. “How about you and Twilight gather some wood for a fire? Time, will you scout the borders with me while the others prep camp?”

Mentor and protégé both nod; taking the orders that come easily to his mind, the rancher pulling on his wolf pelt and melting into the forest with Wind at his heels, and Time grabbing his sword and shield and coming to follow at his side.

“Thanks for stepping up.” The older man hums, gaze strained but warm as he offers a small quirk of the lips. “You and Sky both.”

He claps the other man on the shoulder, thankful in part that Time hasn’t donned his heavy armor, thus allowing him to avoid destroying his knuckles. “That’s my job, Sprout. Besides, you had your hands full with a sad puppy.”

Time shakes his head with a soft chuckle, but Warriors counts it as a win.

If Legend was bad the night Hyrule went missing, he’s terrible when the portal sweeps over them midway through their attempts to find his protégé, and the vet’s full-on panicking once they’ve all stopped feeling woozy and sick. He’s not the only one; Wind is almost crying, the poor kids so overwhelmed, and Wild’s agitated behavior has spiked to a full blown manic as he investigates the land around them.

It’s all the three eldest heroes can do to try and keep the younger ones calm, and while Twilight tags along with Wild to scout the area, Time bundles up a shivering and sneezing Four into his arms with a soft hum, hands dragging through the smithy’s long hair carefully.

“Cold?” He calls over to the two.

Time nods. “Probably.”

They should have taken more care to dry off before starting their search.

While Sky attempts to calm Legend, simultaneously holding Wind close to himself and offering one of his Big Brother Hugs to the sailor, Warriors takes care to check their things over and make sure nothing has been left behind.

Wild’s things are nearly always in his slate. Twilight and Time have their bags on hand, but the younger ones and Sky all have plenty to ensure is still in order, and he makes extra sure to check that the potions and fairies they have are all in order and that the bottle haven’t broken during the tumbling of the switch.

There’s light again.

Hyrule whimpers as it floods over him, tucking himself closer to the base of the bottle as large hands rummage around.

His glass prison tilts and swings, but the traveler can only tumble around within, pained hisses escaping him as he fights nausea that he can only assume is from some kind of switch.

It’s Warriors’ blue gloved hand that has his bottle, and hope flutters softly alongside iridescent wings as Hyrule silently prays that the captain will open it. They’ve been looking for him, right? Maybe Warriors figured out his mistake! Maybe he realized that Hyrule isn’t your average healing fairy and has decided to let him go again!

Oh, please let it be so! He won’t burn the captain’s bug-net after all if the man will just let him out!!!

The bottle settles again, and a blue gloved hand withdraws, leaving Hyrule lying on the floor of his bottle, the glass walls and stuffy air of the bag pressing in around him as another miserable whimper escapes him.

The bag he’s trapped in is flipped closed, and he’s plunged again into darkness.

Someone get a fairy!” Legend shrieks, the vet’s panic over the last few hours heightened as his blood soaked hands press against the wound in Time’s side.

Twilight’s face is pale from where he sits supporting his mentor’s head, blood splattering his face and Time’s own as the older man chokes and wheezes, blood bubbling up from between his lips as Legend and Four both work like mad-men to try and tend their leader’s wounds.

It was a freak attack. No one saw it coming, not with how out of it they all were, and there was no time to stop it when the hinox had come rumbling through the forest with ‘blins scurrying about at its feet.

As per Legend and Warriors’ instructions, the heroes had worked to bring down the smaller enemies first, slashing and skewering while the black blood of their enemies gushed out over their blades and darting forms. The ‘blins are hard to beat, as are all the black blooded monsters, but it's become a struggle they’re accustomed too, and the heroes each dart in and out of the battle with the sort of grace of people that are accustomed to battling together and against dangers of all sort.

There’s a flaw in the system though, as they’re short one member, and while Legend and Hyrule usually fight back-to-back, with Four and Wind close at hand, the traveler is gone, and it throws off his battle partners considerably.

Time was only just in time to prevent Wind and Legend both from being axed, but the wound l=that gushes blood from his side now had been the price.

“Fairy!” Four shouts out again. “Now!”

He blinks awake, the blurriness of his vision fogging his mind too, but not so much that he doesn’t register the request this time. Gloved hands fumble with the buckles of his bag, and he’s sweating and breathing harshly with worry as he rips the straps aside and grabs the first bottle he sees. Red liquid glitters back at him and he huffs a grunt out, handing it off to Wind and digging back into his bag.

Thank Hylia he and Four had gone fairy hunting in the last world they’d been in, he’s only got the one fairy, but it should be enough.

Faint pink glimmers in his jar, no longer bright and flittering, but he has to pray it’ll be enough to save Time. His fingers scrabble for the cork, tears pricking at his eyes and burning as he does his best to force them back.

Help Time.

Calm the others.

Break down and cry later.

The cork pops free, and the fairy bumbles sluggishly towards the mouth of the jar.

“Help!” He wheezes, glancing at where Legend and Four have started preforming CPR as tears stream openly down Twilight’s face, the rancher clutching his mentor’s hand tight enough to break bones as he watches the two replacement healers attempt to preserve the ever-fading breath of the man in his arms.

The fairy's wings flit softly as it launches from the mouth of the jar. Its path is sluggish and crooked, but soft glimmering dust flutters from its wings all the same, sprinkling over the gushing wound and slowing the flow of blood. Four leans back to spit out some blood that’s bubbled up into his mouth while he was pushing air into their leader’s lungs, and a stuttering cough breaks the frenzied silence as Time’s eyes flicker. The fairy circles a second time, color returning to Time’s face as raw and tender flesh takes the place of an open wound. There’s no time for a third pass, however, as the fairy’s wings stutter to a halt, pink glow fading as it drops to the earth.

The others are too busy with Time to notice, Wind practically shoving the red potion down the man’s throat while Legend and Four start wrapping the wound in their leader’s side. Only Warriors has seen the fairy fall, and panic lances through his heart again.

Fairies aren’t supposed to collapse after healing someone; they’re supposed to fly away. But this fairy only weakly attempts to rise again, and while the other fuss over the lesser injuries while Legend scolds Time, the captain turns his attention to the fading pink light that blinks on and off in the tall grass.

The fairy shivers in his hands as he gently scoops it up, but when he raises it to eyes level to look at it properly, he freezes.

Tousled brown hair, drenched in sweat, flops over lidden golden eyes. Sure, there six tiny eyes to look at, but the light in them, though faded, is familiar. Same as the freckles that dust drawn cheeks and the tiny green and brown tunic, the shrunken boots the-

“Hyrule?” His voice is soft and disbelieving, too hushed to be heard by the others as they continue to worry over the old man. But the tiny figure in his hands stirs, ever so slightly, golden eyes blinking open as a weak smile meets his gaze.

“W-” The single sound escaped before the fairy stutters in his hands, lights blinking out for half of a second as Hyrule coughs and wheezes.

“Hang on!” Again, he’s digging in his bag, guilt and utter horror filling him as realization hits.

He put Hyrule in a bottle. A bottle that has sat in his bag for days. A bottle that is closed and sealed and-

The captain’s breath stutters as his fingers find the vial of green potion. Eyes glassy as he lifts it to the fading light in his hands, and while Hyrule sips slowly at the vial that’s raised to his lips, it’s all that the soldier can do to not break down crying right then and there.

He locked Hyrule in a bottle!

Tiny wings flutter in his hold as Hyrule pulls himself up to grasp the vial better, but the captain’s so lost in his head he can only stare, unseeing, as the fairy downs the rest of the vial, despite the thing being bigger than himself. The pink glow that signifies a healing fairy stutters back to a more radiant bloom, wings fluttering lightly as Hyrule shakes out his limbs with a wince.

“Thank you for freeing me.” The traveler’s tiny voice chirps, eyes pained but warm as they all stare up at him, and a single tear escapes from the captain at the words.

He doesn’t really think, just gently plucks the fairy up and settles him in a fold of his scarf before jumping to his feet and striding away into the forest. Sky’s voice calls after him, but he ignores it, instead heading for the nearest bunch of trees.

He’s not sure why he brought Hyrule along, but he also knows he couldn’t just leave the fairy hero back in the camp with no one to watch over him, so even as he fights back the tears that well in his eyes and the pain that blossoms in his heart and the sensation of too small- too tight- trapped- glass- trapped-

“Warriors!” The sharp peal of Hyrule’s voice cuts him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t know when he’d fallen to his knees or when his hands had risen up to clutch his hair. It hurts how hard he’s pulling, and it scares him that he hadn’t even felt it. “Hey!” The voice continues, Hyrule fluttering, still weak, only inches from his face, concern glimmering in glimmering golden eyes. “Hey listen! Wars? Can you hear me? Wars?”

“S-sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Hyrule dismissed the apology, and it draws a wet laugh from the captain as he watches the still stuttering wings beating with a speed to rival a hummingbird, Hyrule’s drawn frame looking even paler and thinner right now than it had when they’d first met him.

“I should be asking you that, kid.” He chokes out. He’d locked this kid in a bottle for days! He’d never known it and if Time hadn’t been dying, who knows how long it would have taken him to open it!

Hyrule’s smile is drawn as his wings stutter to a stop again, the traveler falling into Warriors’ lap as the captain starts forwards as if to catch him. Muttered words sound through the air and then Hyrule, properly sized but still pale and thin and painfully still is nestled against his chest. “I’m exhausted and hungry, but I’m out.” The kid breathes, eyes fluttering as a soft breeze ruffles his sweat soaked hair. “I’m out and that’s all I could ask for right now.”

He doesn’t even think as he wraps his arms around the kid, burying his nose in the damp curls and never minding the fact that they are rank with sweat and fear. It’s Hyrule, and he’s safe, and while Legend is probably going to murder him for trapping the poor kid for three whole days, at least he knows that the little one is alright.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is muffled as he murmurs into the curls. “I know how bottles suck, if I’d’ve known it was you I would have never-” His voice hitches with a sob as he tugs the kid closer, weeping as Hyrule’s gentle hands weakly pat the only thing they can reach within his tight hug, his chest.

“You didn’t know.” Hyrule rasps softly. “But I’m burning your bug-net when I have the energy.”

“Please.” Comes the strangled sob. “Oh goddesses, Rule, I’m so sorry!” The gentle hands move up to wipe away his tears but it only brings them flooding down harder. “Goddesses, I locked you in a bottle! You could’ve been in there forever and I wouldn’t have known! I wouldn’t have checked! I would’ve-”

Left him there. His mind supplies. He would have left Hyrule in a glass bottle where no one could find him, where his shrieks and screams and pleas for help wouldn’t have made a difference to anything or anyone, not when the giant beings that trapped him were unaware or uncaring of his fate, not when he was there to serve a purpose, not when he was there to be used like an item and supply power to those who don’t have enough themselves.

A talisman. I trophy. A tool so that they could do what they needed.

He’s been there. He’s been in that bottle, used like a tool, supplying power to beings so much larger than himself. He’s been in that bottle and left to sit while his friends call his name, while Mask and Tune and Ravio and Impa and Marin and Midna and- and-

“Hush.” Hyrule coos softly, voice hoarse, no doubt from many a scream and wail in hopes of catching their attention, of gaining freedom. “Sush, you’re okay. I’m okay, we’re both okay and Time will be okay.” Rough pads scrape across his cheeks and gently rub his ears. “I got you Wars, I got you.”

And Hyrule does have him, holds him despite being the one in Warriors’ lap, until the others come wandering over and the traveler is scooped from his arms by Sky, who hugs the youngster with tears pouring down his face and voice caught in his throat.

His tears go unnoticed as they all head back, and the instant they reach camp Legend is springing forwards with worry glittering in his eyes as he takes the traveler’s face in his hands, disbelief and shock and hurt and hope and a thousand other emotions swarming in golden violet as Legend gently touches the traveler’s brow with his own, crystal tears leaking out slowly as a tiny smile pulls at the vet’s face.

It only lasts a minute, but then Sky and Legend are fussing over Hyrule, checking him over and clucking their tongues like a couple of mother cuckoos as Wild springs towards the fire, eyes flashing indignantly at the sight of Hyrule’s thin frame, something he’d worked so hard to mend.

“Oh, ‘Rulie, thank Din you’re back!” Legend sighs, cupping the kids face gently in his hands as golden eyes flicker up at the vet with a smile. “Wherever where you? We nearly lost our minds with worry!”

“He was trapped by a monster.” The words roll off of his tongue bitterly as Hyrule frowns up at him, but Legend and Sky are too busy fussing to notice and Hyrule isn’t given a chance to correct anything as they check again for any injuries.

Warriors draws away, leaving Hyrule wrapped in his scarf as he sits on the edge of camp, head aching from tears shed and mind blank in the wake of them. He’s too tired to join in the fuss and celebration as Time sits up again with a groan and Hyrule is spoon-fed soup by a murmuring Sky. He’s tired. He’s cold, and he feels utterly empty.

At least he’s not in a bottle.

The thought sends shivers through him as he curls in on himself, an outlier to the bustle of the camp, free now to descend into the madness of his broken mind.

[elysiadjarin]

Sword and Shield 7

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Part 6: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/655814128564355072/sword-and-shield-6

Warnings: not really much, some mentions of fights etc.

Notes: Well, after this chapter y’all... I think. You know. Where this about to go...

7: Tumbling

Tipoca greeted you the way it always did: a bustle of commotion as soon as you stepped foot off of the ship. You’d dressed in the standard gear that the Kaminoans had given you: a modified pair of blacks that essentially fit you like a jumpsuit.

Following Hunter, you and the rest of the team let him lead the way down the halls. Clones moved through the hallways as well, some of them giving you looks but the majority just ignoring you. By the time Hunter had opened the door to the Bad Batch’s usual barracks, you’d begun to brace yourself for the usual checkups and procedures you knew would follow.

“Hey Shiv, looks like they’ve moved your stuff in already,” Wrecker said, bounding into the room and over to his bunk.

You went over to the singular trunk that had been set in the middle of the floor, labeled with your designation number Unit 526934. Opening the trunk, you found your extra few changes of clothes and the random odds and ends that you’d left behind. Most of your favored possessions you’d either left with the 501st or taken with you onto the ship already, so the little you’d left in your quarters on Tipoca held little to no value.

Digging through the trunk, you grabbed the one item you’d hoped they hadn’t forgot, relieved it was still there. You let out a breath as you closed the trunk and turned to the table. Turning over the small holoprojector, you placed it down on the table and flicked it on, watching the images flicker into view. You smiled as you flipped through the couple of pictures of you with the 501st when you’d first been taken to Tipoca.

Pictures of you, soaking wet from the rain, laughing with the 501st. Fives, splashing you as Kix chased after you both with a towel. Your smile faded a little as you came across a picture of Echo, his grinning face fixed on you and Fives as he watched you both slip on puddles and slick durasteel.

Flicking it off, you stuck it into your bag and looked around. Apparently you were required to stay with the Bad Batch now, not that you’d protest.

“Uh, Shiv— looks like they didn’t bother to put another bunk in here.” Hunter turned to you.

You shrugged. “That’s okay. I can go on the floor or something.”

“You could share with me.” Tech adjusted his goggles. “Mine can extend a little further.”

You turned to glance at his bunk. “Oh... are you sure?”

“Awww, no fair Tech! I wanna sleep with Shiv!” Wrecker leaped up from his bunk, promptly cracking his skull against the top of it and letting out a yelp.

You could have sworn your entire face flushed at the double entendre of the words, but you tried to swallow and push it away. “Um- if you’re alright with it....”

Tech’s face looked a little colored. “If you want.”

You gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tech. You sure I won’t make you uncomfortable? I tend to gravitate toward heat... I’ve been told I’m a little cold-blooded.”

He opened his mouth to reply when Crosshair snorted. “Really Shiv, do you think any of us would complain about that?” he asked, sending you a dark smirk from the other side of the room.

You swallowed thickly as Wrecker laughed and Tech sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Hunter chuckled.

“Well, it’s not as if you haven’t all fondled me already,” you said smartly, turning on your heel to go back to your trunk.

A dead silence filled the room for a moment as you bent over the trunk and started rummaging again, trying to search for the pair of night clothes you’d left behind last time. They’d been comfortable, and you didn’t want to give them up.

Then Wrecker burst into hearty laughter again. He walked up to you, grabbing you and hoisting you up as you squeaked a startled protest. “That’s the way, Shiv! Give it to him!” He swung you around as you squealed, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“Wrecker— Maker, wait—“ you tried to say through laughs, the world spinning.

He playfully tossed you down onto his own bunk as you shrieked, hair falling into your face. Grinning, he bent over you and handed you something.

“I want you to meet Lula,” he presented with a flourish. “Made ‘er myself!”

You brushed hair out of your eyes and took the little stuffed bunny, smiling at the stitched-on smile. Leaning forward, you had to bury your face into the plush tummy and breathe in Wrecker’s unmistakable scent. It smelled like the sizzle after a rain of blaster fire, the plume of smoke from an explosion barely wafting through the air, all underscored by a hint of sweat and a warm, thick scent that you just knew was wholly him.

“Lula is really warm, and soft,” you said softly, fingers squeezing the arms as you smiled up at Wrecker.

He hovered over you, face lighting up as you approved. “You like it? It’s coming apart a little, though. I gotta get ‘er fixed.”

You looked back down at it curiously, then turned it over. A seam had started to unravel at the back. “Oh— I can fix that, if you have the materials,” you offered, tugging carefully at the thread to see how loose it had gotten. Frowning, you tied a knot in the thread to keep it from further unraveling.

“You can?” Wrecker leaped up, managing to avoid hitting his head that time, and went to go rummage in all the miscellaneous parts.

“Here, Wrecker,” Hunter said, tossing him something from the other side of the room.

Wrecker caught it, squinting down at it. “Oh goody, it’s the thread.” Then he resumed looking for what you hoped would be a needle.

“Do you need anything, Shiv?” Hunter asked, turning to you briefly from his bunk.

You shook your head, scooting to the edge of Wrecker’s bunk and carefully holding Lula. “No, thank you. My trunk is here, and I guess I’m sharing with Tech, so... I should be good. Besides,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, “the Kaminoans will give me whatever they see fit anyway.”

“Oh, right.” Hunter walked over to you, handing you a datapad. “You’re being called into the medbay at 1800 Standard. I assume for a checkup.”

You glanced at it, then nodded and scrunched your nose. “Yeah, it’s going to be a long one,” you sighed, shoulders slumping. “Especially since that stupid stunt I pulled on that first mission.” You absently reached up and rubbed your arm, feeling the phantom pain of melting flesh tearing away.

Hunter glanced at your arm with a frown. “I thought it healed?”

“It did,” you said, “but now they’re going to poke and prod at it for a while to figure out the cellular regeneration most likely. Plus, they never have figured out why bacta patches tend to do more harm than good on me.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.” He walked back to his bunk just as Wrecker returned triumphantly.

“Found ‘em, Shiv!” He presented them, sitting back down next to you.

You set Lula down in your lap in order to take the materials, threading the needle with the thick, dark thread. Trying the knot, you turned Lula to the nearest light source and carefully inserted the needle.

“How’d you learn to sew, Shiv?” Wrecker asked, watching you start to mend the split seam.

You tucked in a bit of the stuffing. “Slave days.” You shrugged slightly, focused on getting the seam pushed together properly so it wouldn’t unravel as easily. “Gotta sit still and look like a useful and pretty ornament, y’know. Whims of the rich and whatever.”

“I still don’t understand,” Hunter spoke up, a growl in his voice. “Why would a Separatist choose to make you an ornamental slave instead of a weapon partner?”

You took a moment to tie the knots and snap the thread, then started re-threading the needle to do another tight layer. You finally answered with a sigh. “Bragging rights. Besides, I wasn’t a person to them. I was just a biological weapon, nothing more. What’s the point in treating me like an independent being? It’s one of the biggest reasons I found family in the Clones.”

The thoughtful silence told you that your point had hit home, and you started the second layer carefully. “I’m going to do another layer just so that it won’t tear as easily next time, Wrecker,” you explained, watching the needle push through the fabric and the stitches crisscross over each other.

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, Shiv.” Wrecker nodded, still apparently finding the process interesting.

You hummed, double-knotting the last stitch and snapping the thread again. Turning, you handed him the newly-mended Lula.

He cheered, taking her back excitedly and beginning to babble about it.

You had to watch him with a smile even as you pushed the needle through the spool of thread. Wrecker’s innocent joy in the simple things had always drawn you, the way he let himself be unapologetically enthusiastic about what he cared about. You had to fondly smile as you watched him toss Lula about and razz Crosshair.

Standing after a moment, you went and put the needle and thread back on the table and resumed your interrupted search in your trunk. Thankfully, you’d found the sleepwear and set it on top. Standing, you ran a hand through your hair and glanced at the wall chrono. It read 1730, so you grimaced and grabbed your ankle monitor.

“I have to go to the medbay,” you called over your shoulder, hopping as you slapped the monitor on your ankle. “I should be back around 2100, hopefully before.”

“Good luck, Shiv,” Hunter said with a nod.

You threw them a wave as you rushed out the door, headed for the medbay. They usually wanted you to be early so you could take a quick sonic shower and change into the proper clothes. As you’d expected, you found a droid waiting for you as soon as you entered.

“Greetings, Unit 526934,” the droid bleeped. “Please make your way to the showers. You’ll find clothes waiting for you when you’re done.”

You nodded, biting back a sigh as you made your way over to the shower cubicles. Getting clean, you clambered out of the shower and changed into the loose-fitting robes that they’d provided. Picking at the hem of the shirt, you walked out into the attached room.

The droid waited by an examination table. “Please lie here.”

Without a word, you climbed onto the table and laid down, staring up at the ceiling. The monochrome color swirled in front of you, making you grimace and close your eyes against the brightness. A few minutes later, the doors opened just as the wall chrono chimed. You didn’t even bother opening your eyes.

“Hello, Unit 526934. Welcome back.” The smooth tones of the female Kaminoan washed over your ears. She started to move through the room, her silent footsteps only marked by the rattling of tools. “I trust your missions have been successful.”

“Depends on your definition, but sure,” you said flatly.

“You seem distressed,” she noted.

“Tired,” you corrected. It wasn’t a lie. You were definitely tired of these checkups, the way they always insisted on poking and prodding at you, picking you apart, shoving things into your bones and veins. Taking things from you. You hated it. But this, as you knew, was the price you’d chosen to pay.

To stay with the Bad Batch? You’d be the most cooperative patient they’d ever seen.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like a tranquilizer while we do this checkup?” She offered.

“No thanks.” You kept your eyes closed, not protesting when her long fingers rested against your wrist.

The rest of the preparations took place silently as you forced every other thought out of your mind. You’d have to make sure you weren’t projecting too much so you didn’t bother the others. Sometimes, the way the Kaminoans experimented left you with an aching jaw as you grit your teeth against the pain.

Hooked up to an IV for a blood sampling and a medley of other liquids that they regularly drained into you, you felt the table jolt as you were pushed to the other side of the room. You opened your eyes, staring blankly above at the top of the machine that now hovered over you. It hummed to life, a soft light glowing at the edges of the smooth metal.

“According to your most recent report, you received a substantial injury on a mission,” the Kaminoan remarked smoothly. “Did you sustain any damage?”

“No,” you answered blankly, voice expressionless. “It healed over in two days. I had to cover it.”

The machine beeped, the droid puttering around the room coming over to check your IV. The blood sample had been taken, so it unhooked that line and instead gave you a small injection. Your arm numbed almost immediately, and you closed your eyes in resigned exhaustion.

“It looks like your scans show that you’ve completely regenerated sixty percent of the tissue in your arm recently,” the Kaminoan reported. “I will have to take samples to test. Did the injury reach your bone?”

“No.”

“Did you sustain any broken bones?”

“No.”

The Kaminoan tapped at the screen controlling the machine, readjusting the table so your head was mostly covered by it. You closed your eyes again, ignoring the other metallic clinks of instruments being prepared.

The Kaminoan returned. “It seems as though the removal of the inhibitor chips has continued to prove successful. Your brain functions have seemed to recover well,” she remarked clinically. “In time, you may have regained enough stability to consider a new one.”

You sourly hoped not.

The Kaminoan pulled the table back out, then settled you against the wall. The droid kept the fluids steadily dripping into your veins, and you felt the cold start to creep its way into your bones. Despairingly, you hoped that Tech wouldn’t mind if you ended up clinging to him like a leech by the time morning rolled around. It always came as a side-effect of the fluids. Though you knew that they boosted a lot of your internal functions, it still demanded a price.

“I will start taking samples.”

You grit your teeth, jaw ticking as you felt the cold needle press against your arm. It pushed, entering your skin without a sting thanks to the numbing agent, but you knew it wouldn’t last the deeper it went. And it continued to push. The pain started welling, and while you were used to pain, there was something about the cold metal point burrowing further down that always took you off guard.

The needle hit bone.

It took every ounce of willpower you had to shove back the scream that tore through your chest, welling in your throat. Ruthlessly, you shoved the pain away from the Bonds and down deep into yourself, willing yourself to stay quiet.

Your eyes nearly rolled back up into your skull with sheer relief when the needle pulled back out. The deep-tissue sample was usually the worst part. You could feel the light sheen of sweat that had broken out on your body start to cool even further, adding to the way your temperature dropped.

The ankle monitor beeped, warning about your plummeting temperature, and the droid instantly began to dial the fluid drip back. The Kaminoan nurse swiftly pulled a heat lamp down over the table, letting the artificial heat wash over you. Your muscles had started to tense with the cold, your eyes still stubbornly screwed shut against the pain.

“Your temperature should start rising soon,” the Kaminoan tried to soothe, adjusting the heat lamp.

Darkness plucked at the edges of your consciousness, and you blacked out.

~

Exhausted and still cold, you limped back into the Bad Batch’s quarters with the ankle monitor still on and a medbay blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Shiv?” Hunter sounded incredulous.

You looked up and waved them off. “This is normal, don’t worry about it,” you sighed, going to your trunk.

“What do you mean, normal? None of us have every come back from medbay looking worse than when we went in,” he demanded.

“Lemme get changed and I’ll explain,” you promised, grabbing your night clothes and heading for the bathroom. Changing into the comfortable pair of shorts and tank top, you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders again and shuffled back out into the room.

Tech was already sitting on his bed, so you went to go sit next to him, pulling the blanket to cover your feet. With a groan, you reached up to rub at your eye.

“Are you alright, Shiv?” Tech turned to you with concern, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, I’m freezing cold,” you said miserably.

“What did they do to you?” Hunter asked again with a frown.

You sighed, leaning into Tech’s shoulder. “Normal procedure for me is going in and getting a blood check, physical, and brain scan. I also have to get a bag of fluids that’s made to boost some of my biological functions, kind of like how you’re modified to be enhanced. It helps with my physical upkeep, but the side-effect is brutal. I’m going to freeze like an icicle for the rest of the night,” you grumbled. “And since I had to regenerate sixty percent of the tissue in my arm, they took a deep tissue sample.”

“A what?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head from his bunk. He held Lula up, craning his neck toward you quizzically.

“A deep tissue sample is when an injection has to be made in order to obtain cells from a section of a patient’s body,” Tech answered for you. “Oftentimes I’ve heard it can be very painful when it reaches bone.”

“They’ve got that right,” you said, eyes drooping closed with a heavy sigh. “They even had to turn on the heat lamp this time to get my temp back up. Oh, Tech,” you added as an afterthought, “I hope my ankle monitor won’t bother you. I have to keep it on tonight to monitor my vital functions. Like I said, the fluids tend to drain me of any and all heat.”

“It’s not a problem, Shiv,” Tech reassured. “If it goes off, what should I be prepared to do?”

“The only reason it’ll probably go off is if my body temp drops too low,” you sighed. “If I can’t, tap the monitor for me and it’ll manually send a burst of heat to regulate me.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright? You said the process was painful.” Hunter checked.

You shrugged. “Nothing I’m not used to,” you said. “If anything, I hope I don’t bother Tech. I’m going to become an ice-cold leech.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I volunteered, then,” Tech said dryly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll have to take advantage of whatever chances I get.”

You let out a laugh despite yourself. “Be careful what you wish for. You might regret it in the morning.”

“Nah, if Tech doesn’t want ya I’ll take ya, Shiv!” Wrecker grinned. “Lula and I can make room.”

“Thanks, Wrecker.” You smiled, feeling the sleepiness descend. Yawning, you leaned your head against Tech’s shoulder.

The cold dragged you into sleep.

~

“Shiv. Shiv, it’s time to get up.”

You let out a groan, pulled out of blessed sleep. You didn’t want to move. You felt perfectly, comfortably warm, and something heavy was draped across your waist. Instead, you whined petulantly and buried your head into the source of warmth you were so tightly pressed against.

A sharp inhale of breath hissed against your ear, but you were already falling back asleep-

“Shiv.” Someone’s mouth had pressed against your ear. “We have to get ready for the conditioning in an hour.”

Slowly, the words bled into your sluggish mind. Conditioning... an hour. Tipoca. Kaminoa. Right. Training exercises. An hour-?

With a yelp, you jolted awake and found yourself flailing. Your entire body went off the edge of the bed, slamming against the unforgiving floor. Grimacing, you reached up to rub the spot where your hip had landed.

“Ow, ow— don’t scare me like that, Maker—“ You opened your eyes to see Tech peering over the edge of the bunk at you.

“You alright, Shiv? Sorry I didn’t catch you, you startled me,” he said.

You stared up at him for a minute, your brain starting to put pieces together. You’d... probably been pressed against him. And that weight: his arm on your waist. The soft murmur and his kiss to your ear. You flushed.

“Oh, Tech— I’m sorry, I told you I’d probably end up being a leech,” you groaned.

“I wasn’t complaining, Shiv,” Tech said, swinging himself to a sitting up position.

You sat up, still rubbing at your sore hip. “Well there’s another bruise,” you muttered. “Thank you, Tech. I feel back to normal, I think.” You stood gingerly, patting at yourself. Your body temperature felt pretty normal, a bit chilly from waking up but nothing unusual.

“As much as I’d like to continue seeing you walk around in that, I think you might want to get ready for the conditioning,” Hunter remarked, walking past.

You blinked, then flushed as you remembered the shorts and tank top. Shaking your head, you grabbed your outfit from your trunk and went to go change.

By the time everyone was geared up and ready to go, you were starting to feel a little less sore from the needles. While the numbing agent had worked, it sill left a bit of an ache deep in your arm where it had hit bone. You walked down the hall following Hunter and absently rubbed your arm.

“Is your arm still hurting?” Crosshair asked sharply.

You started a bit. “Oh... I mean, it’s more of an ache. The needle hit my bone, so it feels weird,” you said, shaking your head. “It’ll go away.”

You arrived at the training deck on time. Taking in a deep breath, you tried to mentally prepare yourself. You didn’t know exactly what they’d throw at you this time around. You had to be prepared.

The Kaminoans watched from the observation deck above as you walked in, the doors sliding shut with a hiss behind you. The Prime Minister was there as well, to no one’s surprise.

Force 99, please prepare yourselves for a standard simulation. Unit 526934, please prepare to engage yourself as a non-lethal training weapon only.

You simply turned to Hunter, waiting for directions. He nodded to everyone as they started pulling their helmets on. “You guys know the drill. We’re used to Shiv by now. Just act like you would any other mission. Shiv.” He turned to you, holding out his hand. “Permission to Transfer.”

You sucked in a breath and grasped his hand. “Transfer Granted.” As soon as you’d Shifted, you didn’t even bother projecting an astral form as the simulation began. You’d already defaulted to Hunter’s preferred modifications, though you carefully made sure that your fire was stun-only.

The combat droids started to swarm, causing Hunter to duck and weave through the barriers and start firing. A pattern soon presented itself, and you picked up on it as soon as Hunter did.

“Tech!” Hunter yelled, tossing you.

You guided the weapon into Tech’s outstretched hand, instantly splitting into two. You whispered across the Bond. Pattern of four, flanking both sides and driving a wedge down the middle.

Tech nodded as he continued to fire and make his way closer to Hunter. “So it’s trying to funnel us toward the center and get us trapped,” he deduced.

“Wrecker, clear a path down the middle, Tech and I will cover you!” Hunter shouted.

“Wrecker, catch!” Tech called.

Wrecker whooped and caught you easily, charging straight into the middle of the arena. You formed yourself into a stun grenade launcher, and he eagerly fired a few into the swarm. Manually charging in as Hunter and Tech picked off the ones that got too close, Wrecker used you to both shoot as well as physically bat away some of the droids.

From a vantage point, Crosshair had already started sniping down the towers and picking off droids that threatened any of his other teammates.

Droids started swarming you and Wrecker even more, and you were pressed to focus on both keeping a second eye out for him as well as making sure your shots were still stun-only instead of live fire. They swarmed towards the center, and you quietly murmured across the Bonds.

Wrecker laughed heartily, elated by the action and the promise Hunter’s conveyed plan presented. “Let’s do it!” He roared, swinging you in a circle and firing gleefully. “Come and get it!”

It only took another moment before Hunter yelled “Now!”

Wrecker barely hesitated, pushing himself off the ground in a mighty leap to the side. He fired unerringly toward the mass of droids, a stun-grenade arcing through the air. A bolt from Crosshair hit the grenade dead-center, and it went off in a mighty pulse as you dragged Wrecker down to the ground to avoid the shockwave of the blast.

All the droids hovering in the air instantly dropped, sparking.

Slowly, Wrecker looked up. A moment of silence, then a bell chimed from above.

Simulation complete. Prepare for phase 2.

Wrecker scrambled to his feet. “What? Phase 2? What’s that?”

Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech quickly came up.

You materialized over Wrecker’s shoulder. “Phase 2 is my fault,” you said quickly. “It’s meant to be a test of how well I can switch between all of you as need be. There’s going to be most likely a set of obstacles of some sort that will lean on your individual strengths and see how well and quickly I can adapt.”

Hunter nodded. “Everyone keep as close as possible and support Shiv. Keep sharp and listen to the Bonds and each other.”

Everyone nodded and scattered to nearby barriers. For the time being, you stayed with Wrecker.

As soon as you caught sight of a droid staring to rise from a panel in the floor, you sent a pulse over the Bond. Wrecker barely paused before turning and chucking you clear across three barriers.

Hunter caught you as you Shifted into his modified blaster. “Any ideas, Shiv?” he asked tightly.

It’s a heavy fire unit, You guessed by its build. I don’t know what mods it might have, but I think treating it like an armored assassin droid would be best.

He nodded, then leapt over the barrier and started to run towards the droid. He weaved and dodged the bolts, and you Shifted into an energy shield to help block any stray blasts. Hunter dropped and skidded across the floor as you Shifted back into a blaster. Leaping up, he shoved the blaster into the crack between the two chinks of chest armor and fired.

Dodging out of the way, Hunter instantly turned and kicked at the droid’s legs. You Shifted into a vibro-shiv, and he slashed instantly at the droid’s back plate. The droid fell to its knees, and Hunter sank the shiv into its head plate, carving it open. You Shifted into a blaster again, and he fired instantly into the now-open head.

The droid crumpled, and Hunter whirled around to look for the source of the faint buzzing he’d heard. As soon as he caught sight of the tiny, round droid speeding around the edges of the room, he whipped his arm back.

“Cross!” He shouted in warning.

You Shifted midair, guiding yourself into Crosshair’s hands, already complete as his preferred modified sniper rifle. He smirked, then sprinted over to one of the towers in the room. You positioned your astral form in the usual place to his left. He climbed the tower, taking up a spot and propping you up on the railing.

Peering through your sight, Crosshair let out a quiet breath. You took the moment of complete silence in his head to gather yourself, preparing for his next order. His warning came a split second before the shot itself, but you were prepared. His shot hit the tiny droid almost dead-on, and a moment later you’d deflected a last ditch-effort shot made by the now-useless droid.

Crosshair turned his head to catch sight of the tower’s control panel flickering on. “Tech,” he hollered down, dropping you.

Tech looked up, catching both blasters you’d Shifted into flawlessly. Crawling around his barrier, he started into a dead-sprint toward the nearest tower. He lifted you as you Shifted into another shield, holding you above his head just in case. You took a single shot thanks to his weaving and dodging, so you were ready when he reached the tower.

He instantly propped you up and began slicing into the tower’s controls. It took him all of a minute while you braced yourself. You kept Shifting sizes of the shield depending on the shots aimed toward you. If you concentrated on a shot, it was much easier to conserve energy, maybe even absorb it and use it to refuel yourself. But the larger the shield, the more the shots would take out of you.

It didn’t take long for Tech to finish slicing and recoding the tower. Its turret rotated and started firing at the others until they were all down.

Tech grabbed you, letting you Shift back into his twin blasters. He sent you the schematics for a set of weapons, then shouted “Wrecker!” You automatically became an IWS as Wrecker caught you, but you studied the schematics Tech had given you with interest. A pair of armored gloves?

You started to copy the weapon, figuring why not? Wrecker looked down in surprise as you covered his hands, forming into the heavy gloves.

“Whoa, what are these?” Wrecker’s eyes lit up with interest as he turned his hands over.

Why don’t we find out? You asked with a smile. So far, this had been the most successful Phase 2 you’d ever experienced, and while you could feel the stress, it didn’t debilitate you like it had before.

Wrecker looked up just in time to see the center floor panel open up to reveal a giant droid ambling forwards. He grinned, then slammed his fists together in front of himself. The gloves started sparking, and you quickly made them stun instead of live energy.

With a whoop, Wrecker leapt forwards toward the heavy-duty droid. His first punch with the gloves made the droid shudder, sparking; but after a moment, it recovered itself and pressed forward again. You kept half a mind on Wrecker and continued studying the schematics of the gloves, refining the gloves and streamlining it as you familiarized yourself with it.

“Hey Shiv,” Wrecker grunted, still punching away at the droid, “what else do these do?”

You absently flicked on a button, and faintly heard Wrecker whoop as energy coils started threading between the gloves. Wrecker knocked the droid’s legs out from under it and started to wrap the energy coils around its head and neck joints. Still, you only half paid attention as you continued to study the schematics. They had aspects that made you wonder if Tech had been modifying it himself. There were mods that clearly hadn’t been made for a standardized weapon.

“Gimme a last good punch, Shiv!” Wrecker hollered.

You looked up from the schematics, shifting your attention, and powered up the gloves to as high of a safe extent as you could. Wrecker let out a shout and slammed his full weight into the chest of the droid. The entire chest plate caved in, and you winced as the stun energy rippled though the entire rest of the droid, reducing it to a heap of smoking parts.

Wrecker stood, nodding in satisfaction and smacking the gloves together. “These are awesome!” He cheered, shaking his fists in the air. “Hey Shiv, can we use these more often?”

You materialized over his shoulder, staring at them yourself. “I haven’t figured out all of it yet, so it might take me some time to make it better. But yes, if you’d like,” you agreed.

He turned his head to you in surprise. “You haven’t?” he asked as the rest of the team approached, the finish bell ringing.

You shook your head. “Tech gave me the schematics before he passed me to you.”

“You mean you made it functional on the fly?” Hunter asked, surprised.

You nodded. “Yes. I’ve studied weapons for most of my life, so it’s not as difficult anymore. But this schematic has modifications that weren’t meant for this weapon originally, so I’ll have to further study it to make it as practical as possible without compromising the rest of the weapon’s functions and overall integrity.”

Tech adjusted his goggles. “I didn’t expect you to try it right away. It was a weapon I’d found base schematics for on a mission. I thought I’d try to make some mods to accommodate Wrecker’s particular preferences. I figured I’d share what I had with you for the time being, since you’re now our partner and weapon.”

You disengaged, staggering a little as you dropped to the ground. Catching yourself, you shook your head from the giddiness that bled over from Wrecker.

“I like it,” Wrecker said with an adamant nod.

You smiled dizzily. “G-good.”

Hunter caught your arm. “You good?” His eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

“I’m fine, just-“ you squinted, balancing yourself. Taking a breath, you re-centered and shook your head. “I’m a little... that was the best I think I’ve ever done for a Phase 2,” you admitted breathlessly.

“You did great.” Hunter gave you an encouraging nod.

“I believe that was also one of the quickest battle sims we’ve managed to complete,” Tech noted, scrolling on his wrist unit. “We took a total of eight minutes and fifteen seconds for the first one. During Phase 2, Shiv Shifted weapons a total of 12 times in the span of twelve minutes and twenty seconds.”

Battle Simulations Complete. Performance Satisfactory. Prepare for mission assignment within forty-eight chrons.

You flushed as your stomach let out a loud growl. You hadn’t really eaten since lunch the day before, and you were now feeling it.

Wrecker laughed. “Let’s go get food!” He clapped your shoulder and started toward the doors.

Tech fell into step beside you as you all walked towards the now-open doors. “You did very well,” he offered. “I saved the footage in case you wanted to review it.”

You gave him an appreciative smile. “I’d love that, thanks, Tech. I’m glad I did well.” You let out a sigh of pure relief. “It was really stressful.”

As soon as the Bad Batch walked into the canteen, you mentally braced yourself for snide comments. It was always the same no matter who you were with, and worse if you were alone. Still, you hoped that the others wouldn’t be too effected by it.

Grabbing a tray, you felt your shoulders hunch a little. You just... wished others would simply ignore you. Their comments didn’t even matter, but it always felt so awkward. And sometimes, you’d found, ignoring them only earned you more trouble. Putting the bland food on your tray, you wished for a moment that you could just cook something yourself on the ship.

You followed behind Wrecker’s bulk as he confidently made his way to an empty table. Feeling a presence behind you, you glanced back with wide eyes to see Crosshair following behind you.

“Sit on my side of the table, Shiv,” Cross said coolly. “Wrecker always starts something in the canteen when others make comments.”

Though you didn’t really mind either way, you nodded and slid into the spot next to Crosshair on the bench. Hunter slid in on your other side, while Tech and Wrecker sat across from the three of you.

You just silently tucked into your food, grateful for the nutrition at the very least. Wrinkling your nose at the dubious soup, you decided to dunk your bread into it instead to avoid the taste as much as possible.

“The soup never is good,” Hunter said with a roll of his eyes as he copied you.

You nodded with a soft hum, spooning the other food into your mouth.

A group of troopers passed by your table, chuckling and nudging each other. “Well if the outcasts don’t find each other,” one of them sneered in your direction.

Another snorted. “Yeah, looks like the Sad Batch found the flimsi-opener.”

You were fully prepared to ignore it all when Wrecker leapt up from his seat.

“Leave Shiv alone,” Wrecker fairly growled, glaring at the group of troopers.

Choking on a spoonful, you pounded at your chest at the unexpected rush of heat that traveled down your body at the sound of Wrecker’s voice dropping that low and raking down your spine. It was the sound of his voice as much as the abrupt defense that took you off guard, and the way your body reacted to it completely unbalanced you. You could feel color burst in your cheeks as you stared wide-eyed up at Wrecker still glaring balefully at the troopers.

“Sit down, Wrecker,” Hunter said, waving his hand. “They don’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

Wrecker huffed. “They don’t deserve to talk to Shiv like that,” he complained.

You shook your head wordlessly, trying desperately to shove the memory of Wrecker’s face contorted in a feral snarl, his growl rolling through your mind. You weren’t even sure why it had effected you so heavily, but... You shifted a little in your seat, realizing with despair that Hunter would probably be able to smell your reaction at this rate.

“You okay, Shiv?” Wrecker turned to you, back to his normal husk as he frowned.

You coughed, shaking your head and then nodding. Swallowing thickly, you pressed your thighs together and desperately tried to refocus on your food.

Beside you, Crosshair let out a low, knowing chuckle. His hand under the table briefly brushed up your leg, and you let out a squeak, instantly clapping your hand over your mouth.

“You look flushed, Shiv, are you alright?” Tech frowned, observing your face.

“No- ye- no-“ you choked out, pointedly trying to look down at your tray. Biting your lip hard, you picked up your spoon again. Why was everything suddenly so... sensitive?

“If they say anything again, I’m throwing this table,” Wrecker said darkly, glaring around the canteen.

You couldn’t take anymore. You needed out. Standing abruptly, you grabbed your tray. “Excuse me, I’ll- I’ll be in the room-“ You fled, choking on your own words. Fairly throwing the tray at the return, you started running down the hallway and out of the canteen.

You barely made it to the barracks before your knees gave out. Leaning against the table, you sucked in a burning breath and closed your eyes, shivering. You didn’t even know why, but something about the way Wrecker had instantly stood to his full 6 foot 6 inches and growled at the person who had insulted you just... did something. It was like someone had flipped a dusty switch in your mind and broken a dam in the process.

Sucking in a breath, you grabbed your sleep clothes and went to go change in the fresher. You needed out of your blacks as soon as possible. The heat that spread through your whole body was the polar opposite of what you’d felt the night before.

Still, even after you’d changed into the tank top and shorts, your body still felt like it was on fire. The heat puddled in your lower belly, making you press your hand against it. Your skin felt so hypersensitive, the comfortable clothes rasping against you in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut.

Grabbing a datapad, you shakily tried to scroll to the report of your last medbay visit hooked to the ankle monitor you’d shed that morning. Scrolling through it, you pulled up the list of the fluids you’d been injected with. A particular side effect listed on one of them made you let out a broken groan and sink down onto the nearest bunk.

The door flew open. “Shiv?”

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[glowingspence]

18 and 53 moreid:)

"Agent Morgan?" A small voice speaks up behind him,

"This is not your position? What are you doing?" Morgan questions, looking at Spencer who sneaked up behind him during their training. "We are gonna fail this."

"I am sorry Agent Morgan, but I am gonna faint."

With that the pale man crumbles into Derek's arms who grabs him with one arm, trying to ditch the prop gun that is hanging around his neck with the other.

"I've got you. I've got you." He whispers and lowers them to the ground, "Hotch- The kid out."

"I am not suprised he is out first" JJ comments.

"No I meant literally. He passed out, stop this exercise" Worried Derek looks down on Spencer, hesitating for a moment before slapping his face gently, "Wake up, Reid. C'mon wake up."

Disoriented Spencer leans into the hand, a quiet whine leaving his mouth, "That's good keep your beautiful eyes open, pretty boy."

It takes him a moment before he reaches up to his ear fiddling with the in-ear before he starts getting frustrated and Derek reaches down and takes it out for him before helping his get out of the vest too.

"It's okay, it was a long day it can happen." Morgan tries keeping their newest agent from burying himself in embarrassment that isn't needed, "It's hot in here too, jesus."

"I am cold." Are Spencer first words as he hugs himself, sitting on the ground.

"Let's get you out of this. We are gonna sit down by others okay? Get some food into you." Worried he wraps an arms around him, helping him up, "I know you hate touch. I am sorry."

"I am cold." Spencer repeats and leans against Morgan, his teeth clattering.

"Are you sick?" Worried Morgan reaches up to his head, "Kid?"

"No. I am cold."

"Yeah I know but-" Morgan stops himself when he realizes how out of it he is, "Let's get you to the others."

"I am cold." Morgan doesn't question it and helps him out the building towards Gideon, who takes him into his arms when Spencer repeats what he told Morgan.

"Kid, did you hit your head?" Morgan questions and reaches for his head tucking the curls back.

"I am cold."

"He is scared, just give him a moment." Gideon interferes while the others walk towards them too, "Tell them to give Spencer some space."

"Did this happen before?"

"No, it's gonna be okay. He is probably just exhausted." Sceptical Morgan let's his eyes of him and walks towards the team.

"What happened?" JJ questions with worry on her face.

"Reid passed out, he is with Gideon." Morgan explains and heads towards their bags with JJ while Hotch aims for Gideon and Spencer. "I am sure he will feel better in a few."

"How can a newly recruit faint with a task this easy?"

"I don't think he passed many not book related tests if you know what I mean" Derek reaches down to Spencer's bag, taking his water bottle out.

"I can't imagine him seeing all that horror and violence. He looks so young and innocent" JJ speaks her worry looking at Spencer in Gideon's arms, hiding his face against the man's neck.

"We all thought the same thing about you, but look where you are." Derek tries cheering her up with a smile before walking back. "Here, drink this. You will feel better."

Shyly Spencer grabs the bottle and takes a sip while Gideon's hands are hovering at his side and Hotch looks at him alarmed too.

"Drink more please." Gideon tells him when he stops after a few sips, "You will feel better I promise"

"Maybe sit down" Hotch steps in.

"No"

"C'mon we will sit down over there." Gideon points towards a small brick wall at the edge of the training range but Spencer points at something and then repeats it when Gideon frowns at him. "You wanna go home?"

"No" Frustrated Spencer throws his head back but then stumbles a bit, the motion seeming like it made him dizzy again.

"Okay, I get it. You want your bag? Your things?" Spencer nods but when Gideon tries to get it, he grabs his hand stronger, holding him back.

"Sit down, I'll get it." Morgan tells him with a warm smile and brings his stuff over to him when he sits down on the wall. "Here you go."

Quickly Spencer grabs the jacket and pulls it over and then slowly but eventually faster starts rooking back and forth, "I am gonna take him home, Aaron." Gideon announces.

"Nah you two have the meeting here in a few, why don't you let me drive him?" Derek offers.

"He is not gonna want that." Gideon tries talking him out of it, clearly wanting to be close and there for Spencer when he is feeling like this but he is also aware of his duties he has here.

"Hey kid-" Morgan crouches down in front of him, not touching him. "Agent Gideon has some work left to do here, is it okay if I drive you home?"

"Agent Gideon" Spencer mumbles and Gideon sits down next to him.

"Can you do me a favor and drive with Morgan? He is gonna drop you off at home okay? If you need anything, you call me, I will come to check on you at the latest after the meeting tonight."

"I am cold"

"I know, Agent Morgan is gonna make sure it doesn't happen again." Encouraging Gideon nods into Morgan's direction. "Thank you."

"No problem." Morgan waits for Hotch and Gideon to leave before sitting down next to him, "What have you got there?" He questions when he sees Spencer fiddling with something small but colorful in his hands and it takes a moment before Spencer hands it to him, placing it in his hand before guiding Derek's thump over the texture that feels soft but not like a shirt of blanket does. "Tell you what, why don't you take this back and I am gonna take you home? We get you into clean clothes, something to eat into that body of yours and then some rest."

"Gideon"

"He will be with you the moment he can."

"No, like Gideon." He tells him and then points at Morgan before turning back to focussing on the cube in his hands.

"What do you mean like Gideon?"

"Taking care."

"Of course, pretty boy. Gonna make sure you are well feed." Morgan tells him with a smile. "Can you look at me for a second."

Timidly Spencer does, "Just answer with yes or no, do you still have dots in your vision?"

"No"

"Feel lightheaded?" With ending the questions Spencer starts pursing his lips, "Okay, different questions. Do your legs still feel shaky?"

"No"

"Are your ears ringing?"

"Yes"

"Do you still feel cold?"

"Yes"

"Can I take you to my car? Do you think you can walk that way?"

"Yes" Walking with him towards the car, Morgan thinks he might pass out himself any minute when he thinks about what Gideon will do to him if anything happens to Spencer on their way home but they get to his apartment just fine, Spencer mostly looking out the window while Morgan looks over every two seconds to check if he is still conscious. "Here" Spencer speaks up, pointing at an apartment complex. "I live here."

"I will look for a parkling spot"

"You can just let me out here-"

"No way, kid."

"You don't have to stay here- you can just go somewhere else. Be with your girlfriend." Spencer stumbles out, while grabbing his bag from the floor.

"First of all: I don't have to, I want to. Second of all: There is no girlfriend waiting on me tonight."

"There isn't?" With a chuckle Morgan gets out of the car and hurries to Spencer's side, offering to take his bag but he doesn't give it up. "No one has been in my apartment apart from Gideon and me."

"I don't mind a little chaos. Believe me my house is a mess too."

"You have a house?"

"I do. With a backyard for my dog."

"You have a dog?" Spencer's eyes light up, his mouth slightly falling open, "Can I see him?"

"You- of course." Morgan chuckles over the warmth that suddenly feels his chest and the nervousness that eases in his stomach.

When Spencer finally lets them in, Morgan can see why the kid always seems so pale and quiet. The apartment is filled with books, curtains drawn shut. A few candles standing around and dried flowers laying on the living room table while old paintings are stacked against the wall.

"This is cozy"

"Gideon always says it's like a piece of time, it captures the moment of peace one feels when they step into a space that feels like safety."

"He is right. Why don't you go take a shower? I am gonna order us some food."

"Nothing spicy please"

"Of course, go ahead." When Spencer leaves he makes his way over to the kitchen, finding only a few bottles of juice and water in the fridge. A few cracker packages stacked on the counter and gummy bears in the shelve above. Morgan can only hope Gideon takes the kid to eat dinner with him regularly.

His eyes fall on a few polaroids hanging over the kitchen table, one is Gideon smiling at him, the other is from what looks like a campus and another one is a place he recognizes as the bullpen. It's signed with Gideon's handwriting so he figures the last one, Gideon must have gifted him.

He goes over to look at the pictures on the fridge that hang between multiple theater tickets, seeing pictures of multiple cats, a man with long brown curled hair, a picture of a child holding an award that looks like it could be Spencer and a few pictures of places Morgan doesn't recognize, before he sits down and orders them some food while skipping through the newspaper that is placed on the table until he hears a quiet sniffle coming from the end of the apartment.

"Reid?" Worried he gets up and walks down the hallway towards the bedroom, "Kid you okay?" When he doesn't get an answer he steps in to find Spencer sitting on the bed, hugging himself as he cries, "What happened?"

"I am sorry." Concerned Morgan walks over, going down on one knee in front of him, "I am sorry"

"What are you sorry for?"

"For messing up today"

"You didn't-"

"I messed up! I fainted! I ruined our whole training." He exclaims and starts hitting his thigh in frustration which makes Morgan back away first before he realizes that it helps Spencer calm down and that it's only directed at himself.

"We were almost done anyway"

"But I ruined it. Nobody faints at something like this!" Spencer sobs again, while Derek cubs his face, making him look up, before he speaks,

"That happens to many people. I promise."

"But not on their first week"

"Especially on their first week. There is no shame in that." Morgan promises, moving his thump up and down. "How would I know to ask the questions before we drove off, if I didn't pass out myself?"

"Textbook-"

"No." Derek takes a short break before continuing, "Listen when I started at the BAU, Hotch drilled me through every exercise possible. He wanted to have the best man only and believe me when I say I fainted, I fainted and threw up because that man wanted the best people, people he knows do everything for this job and everytime I did he was still there and I knew I joined the right team because I was not getting yelled at, not humiliated. He helped me and believe me I was as shy and quiet as you are around us right now but it's gonna get better. And Hotch took you on his team because he knows you are wroth it and you are good, it doesn't matter how you do at the trainings because he already knows."

"I am not like you-" Spencer tries shaking his head in Morgan's hold.

"It's okay, I promise you it's terrifying now but it will get better with some time and I am gonna be there for the whole way okay?"

[Prompt list]

[scuttling]

Birthday

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 2,648 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Drinking, Pre-relationship minor Morgan/Garcia Summary: The team goes out for Sophie's 30th birthday. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 7-12 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! “Time for another shot?” Prentiss asks, dropping two handfuls of glasses onto the table in front of them, and Sophie laughs, shaking her head indulgently.

“No more shots, Em. I’m already feeling the last two.” Her cheeks are slightly flushed, corroborating her comment, but she’s still standing steadily, so she can’t be too far gone.

“Come on, it’s your birthday!” The rest of the team joins in with a chorus of similar comments, but Hotch just smiles at their happiness and lets them battle it out amongst themselves.

“You only turn 30 once, you know,” Morgan reminds her, a hand casually thrown over her shoulder, and Reid frowns.

“You only turn every age once; what’s the significance of 30?”

“All he’s saying, Reid,” Garcia chimes in, taking a sip of her pink, fruity drink, “is that every year older is a chance to celebrate. Especially in this line of work.” Sophie sighs, clearly giving in to her friends’ methods, and she walks two fingers forward, to a full shot glass.

“Fine, fine: I will drink one more shot…” she begins, pausing as is for dramatic effect, “if someone gets me cheese fries.”

“I’ll buy the birthday girl some cheese fries,” Reid offers, and she pulls him down by the arm and gives him a kiss on the cheek, which earns howls from the team and a blush from Reid, and then she takes the shot.

“I’m hungry too, Spence, I’ll come with you,” JJ adds. “Anyone want anything?” Morgan, Garcia, and Prentiss rattle off orders, and Hotch takes a sip of his beer, doesn't notice that Sophie has made her way toward him until he gets a whiff of her perfume.

“Not hungry?” she asks, leaning against the table and facing him. She looks very beautiful in a short, silky orange dress, leather jacket thrown over her shoulders, and he lets his gaze linger for a moment.

“No, I think I’m going to call it a night.” He has reports that need to be reviewed, documents that need to be signed, and though he’s enjoying watching his team on a rare night out, he can’t help but feel old and out of place—especially as she celebrates her 30th birthday, for god’s sake. He can’t even remember his 30th birthday.

“Oh Hotch, you can’t.” She sets a hand on his arm, gently, looks up into his eyes with a clear gaze. “I know I don’t like to make a big deal of my birthday, but I’ll happily play that card with you if it will get you to stay.” Her eyes are sweet, and they look wide, almost pleading—it’s a puppy dog look by anyone’s standards, and it turns out he’s helpless against it.

“Okay, I’ll stay a little longer if it means that much to you,” he agrees, teasing a little, but her reply seems serious.

“It really does.” She smiles softly, then removes her hand from his arm, almost like she forgot that she put it there. “I’ll even share my cheese fries with you.”

She makes good on the promise, thanking Reid profusely for the gift and then running a knife through them so they make for smaller bites. She lifts her fork, takes two or three bites, and sets it down, handle pointing in his direction; he’s really not that hungry, but the way she shares with him is so effortless that it feels like an offering he shouldn’t refuse.

Later, Morgan and Garcia are dancing, Prentiss is talking to a woman she knows from the office, and Reid is making conversation with someone at table over, when Sophie takes her last bite of fries.

“They’re still not together, right?” she asks, pointing her fork at Morgan and Garcia, and Hotch shakes his head.

“As far as I know, no.”

“Same here,” JJ pipes up from across the table, nursing her drink. “And you know I’d know; I know everything.” Sophie laughs, sips her beer. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a shame, I guess; two people who are so drawn together shouldn’t fight so hard to stay apart.” JJ gives Hotch a quick glance, which he can’t interpret, then looks back down at her half-eaten plate of fried pickles, picking at the crumbs.

“I don’t get it either. If the FBI doesn’t care, why do they?” Sophie sighs, looking back at the laughing, dancing couple, props her chin up with her hand.

“They don’t think they deserve it.” When he and JJ both look toward her—the sound of her voice is almost sad, unusual for a night like tonight—she straightens, downs the last of her drink. “I assume that’s why, I mean.” JJ gives him another brief look, and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s almost 2 AM when the party breaks up, much later than he intended to stay out, but he’s happy he did. Sophie isn’t drunk, he doesn’t think, but she’s much tipsier than she was hours ago, before the cheese fries—and she’s really adorable.

“I love you guys so much,” she tells them all as they put on their coats. “I love you, Spencer, for buying me cheese fries, thank you buddy.” She wraps her arms around him, almost dangling from his neck, and he laughs, squeezes her tight.

“I love you too, buddy, you’re welcome.” She moves to Garcia next, hugs her tight around the waist.

“I love you, Pen. I love my card and your smile and I love coming into your cave for candy when Morgan gets on my nerves.” They laugh and Morgan acts affronted, which only makes them laugh more.

“I love you too, birthday babe.”

“I love you Morgan,” she begins, pulling him into a one-armed embrace, “even though you annoy me sometimes, ‘cause we’re Chicago twins and we both like the Cubs and we both know the best pizza is from Tony’s on 4th Avenue.”

“You know it, girl. I love you too.”

“JJ,” Sophie calls, drawing out the last letter, and they hug each other equally tight. “I love you ‘cause you’re the coolest one of us; I don’t make the rules,” she tacks on when the rest of the group scoffs. “She’s super cool and you guys know it.”

“I love you, especially when you’re drunk,” JJ tells her with a laugh. “Should have made you eat more than half a plate of cheese fries.”

“It’s not your fault, I blame Emily Prentiss,” she says, accusatorily, turning to the woman in question and giving her a hug, which Prentiss returns with a pat. “I love you even though you kept handing me drinks all night. You’re a bad influence.”

“Then I guess I succeeded,” she says with an affectionate smile. “I love you, birthday girl. I’m glad you had a good time.” They separate, and when Sophie turns to Hotch, the last in line, her face changes. Her expression isn’t one of awkwardness or irritation, but… almost like resignation, and he can’t exactly tell what that means.

She smiles softly, quirking her lip as if asking if it’s okay to proceed, and he opens his arms, tries not to smile when she sags against him as if, of all the hugs she’s received tonight, this is the one she wanted most.

“I love you, Hotch,” she says so quietly he has to strain to hear, and he moves his hand carefully over her back.

“I love you too.” They stay like that for a good twenty seconds, and when she pulls back, she smiles sheepishly.

“Okay, you guys have stayed out long enough because of me. I’ve gotta order my Uber.” Morgan and Prentiss both insist they can drop her off, talking over each other, and he decides to spare them both, speaks in his unit chief voice for the only time that night.

“You guys focus on getting each other home; I’ll get her home.” Everyone agrees easily, Sophie included, and they are walking out to the parking lot before she speaks again—not exactly slurred, but a bit slower than normal.

“How are you still so... Hotch-y? You had as much to drink as I did.”

“I’ve probably got 75 pounds on you, so I metabolized it faster, I guess,” he answers with a chuckle, steering her to his SUV, and something about that makes her groan.

“Oh, I know... all about that.” He comes around to the passenger side to open the door for her, and for a moment she just looks up at him, slowly wets her lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She slips into the car, buckles up, and he closes the door with a sigh.

In a perfect world, this would be him taking her home from a date, maybe kissing her goodnight on her doorstep… But the world is as imperfect as she isn’t, and his little crush is both inappropriate and foolish, so he resigns himself to his role and vows to get her home safely, and nothing more.

They arrive outside of her apartment building after about fifteen minutes of softly murmured directions, and he puts the car into park, turns to look at her.

“Do you want me to come up with you?” he asks, and she smiles softly, tiredly.

“Yes, but no. I’ll be okay.” The look on her face is sweet, almost tender, and he keeps himself from reading too much into it. That way lies madness, he knows.

“It’s no trouble. It would make me feel better, to know you made it safely.” Her smile gets brighter, and she sits up, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Okay, sure. Thanks. I could make you a cup of coffee for the road, if you’d like.” He nods, and they both climb out of the car, heading toward the front door of her apartment. He keeps his hands near her, ready to catch her if she wobbles, but she is steady on her feet even in the skinny heels she wears.

She unlocks the front door, then takes him up a couple of flights of stairs, stopping outside apartment number 12. Her keys turn easily in the locks, the door swinging open to display a very clean, very white apartment. “Thanks for coming up with me. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it,” she tells him, hanging up her jacket on the hook behind the door.

“I wanted to,” he tells her, honestly, a little distracted by her bare shoulders, the slim straps that rest on them. She looks back, and if he’s caught staring, she doesn’t mention it. She leans her butt against the wall, reaching down to unclasp the buckle on her shoe, and for the first time, her balance isn’t perfect; she wobbles a little, and his hands catch her waist to steady her.

“Do you need help getting your shoes off?” he asks, looking down into her eyes, and hers are warm, liquid as she stares back. Her tongue sweeps over her bottom lip, and if it were any other woman, he would take that as an invitation to lean in and kiss her. Instead, he drops to one knee and unbuckles her shoe, slides it off carefully, repeats that with the other foot. He sets the shoes on the shoe rack by the door, stands back up to full height, touches her arm gently.

“Thanks, Hotch.” Her voice is soft, cautious, and it looks like she wants to say more, but the silence goes on too long, and she eventually clears her throat. “Do you want that cup of coffee?”

“Sure. Please.” She pads into the kitchen, which is, like the rest of the apartment, sparkling clean and gleaming white, switches on the coffee maker, and pulls a travel mug down from the cupboard overhead. “I like your apartment. It’s very… clean.” She turns, back against the counter, and smiles.

“I don’t like to leave a mess, since we never know where we’re going to be.”

“It’s a little bare,” he says gently, trying not to profile too much, and she looks down like she’s self-conscious.

“You know I’m private. I like to keep my photos and stuff in the bedroom.” She walks past him, down the hallway, looks over her shoulder and signals for him to follow.

Her bedroom is still very white—white comforter, white sheets, white pillows—but her dresser, headboard, and end tables are made of wood, and the dresser is littered with silver picture frames.

One is of Sophie and a young man who resembles her so much, it must be her brother. One is of the two of them with a pair of adults, their parents, probably. One is of Sophie with a young man and woman who look like they could be twins, another of Sophie and the man he knows is her previous partner back in Chicago.

There’s one of her SWAT squad, Sophie in the middle with a big smile and an even bigger gun. Then there’s one of the BAU team, from a get-together Garcia hosted; he remembers her apartment looking like a craft store threw up there, every bright color and pattern you could imagine, and he remembers Sophie’s face when she saw it, called it gorgeous and fitting and very Penelope.

Would he consider this apartment very Sophie? This room, maybe, but that’s about it.

“I love these. Especially this one,” he says, holding up the photo of the SWAT team. “We need to take you to an outdoor range one day, so you can blow Morgan’s mind.” She laughs, light and airy, moves closer so she’s looking at the photo with him.

“That’s a great idea. He’s seen my special tactics, now for my special weapons.” She touches the photo of her with her brother, picks it up to show him. “This is my brother, Leo—before he became a constantly high competitive surfer in San Diego.”

“Do you see him often?” Her face falls, and she sets the photo back down with a sigh.

“I haven’t seen him in about a year. He doesn’t agree with my lifestyle, calls me a government pawn.”

“He doesn’t agree with your lifestyle?” he asks, a little surprised, considering his habits, but she just nods.

“Yeah, he’s very ‘go with the flow’, finds me morally rigid. Thinks I’m not doing work that needs to be done, as if our job is less important than surfing.” He laughs, and she laughs with him, bumps playfully against his arm. “You should feel special, you know. No one else has seen my photos.”

“No one at all?” That can’t be right, she’s had people in her bedroom, certainly…

“Nope. I don’t date often, you know. And I one-night-stand even less than I date, so. No one has had the chance.” It makes him sad, generally, that she keeps her photos so guarded, that she doesn’t share them—he’s happy, though, to know she doesn’t have men in and out of her bedroom, as if that matters when he knows nothing will ever happen between them.

“You have to give someone the chance,” he says, pulling her in for an easy, one-armed hug and pressing his lips to the top of her head. He’s not sure why he does it, but it feels so right he doesn’t really question it.

“I know,” she says quietly, wrapping her arm around his waist, too, and leaning against his shoulder. “I just want it to be the right someone.” She looks up at him, so soft and beautiful in just her slip of a dress, feet bare, that his chest aches with the urge to kiss her.

He doesn’t, of course, and never will, and the moment eventually passes, their eye contact breaks. “I should make that coffee,” she murmurs, pulling away, and tries not to feel too bad about the loss.

[votederpycausemufins]

i can’t stop writing!

@petrichormeraki

“Fundy? Are you in here?” Iskall called out. Rendog landed next to the redstoner, weapon drawn as a precaution. 

Fundy did speak, but not as a response to Iskall. “No! Tubbo don’t!” From nearby, Tubbo jumped at the other pair in a panic to defend himself. Ren blocked the attack and disarmed Tubbo quickly as he wasn’t fully prepared for a battle. “Tubbo, they’re on our side!”

“They are?” Tubbo asked, refusing to look away from Iskall and Ren.

“Yeah.” Iskall spoke up, making sure to hold his hands up and hold no weapon. “I’m friends with Fundy. I’ve helped him in the past with his redstone.”

Tubbo hazarded a glance towards Fundy who gave a reassuring nod and Tubbo relaxed just a little bit. “Tommy’s told us about you. Said you’re best friends?”

Tubbo looked back to Iskall. “He said that? But I exiled him! I didn’t even visit him when I could have.”

“Tommy doesn’t blame you for that.” Ren spoke up, making Tubbo jump a little at the new voice. “Maybe he did when he first got here, but he gets that it was more Dream’s fault then yours. You should see his place.”

“Oh yeah!” Iskall said, lighting up a little. “He’s not far from here. Tommy set up his tower between Grian and Ren in the mesa. Refused to let any of us help. He grew up so fast.”

“Then can we go over there? I want to see Tommy and talk with him!” Tubbo was nearly bouncing around at the thought of seeing his friend again.

“Well, we can go over there, but Tommy’s probably in the middle of the fight.” Ren responded. “Though I’m sure he’d want to keep you safe.”

“And I’d rather not get Fundy mixed up in everything if he doesn’t have to be.” Iskall added. Though Fundy seemed to disagree.

“If Tommy is out there fighting, we want to help. He’s our friend.”

Iskall and Ren looked at each other, having a silent conversation with expressions before Ren sighed. “Alright, fine. We’ll take you back to the shopping district and-”

There was a large crack of thunder and Tubbo was left trembling. Ren and Fundy covered their ears from the sudden noise while Iskall looked for the source. When he saw the cloudy sky above with a purple glow in the distance, he knew what was going on, having seen the same scene once before. “Oh no… Grian…”

Rendog’s ears were ringing a little too much for him to hear Iskall, so he yelled a ‘what?’ before seeing the sky as well. “That’s… not good.”

Fundy recovered enough to comfort Tubbo and then turned to Iskall. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Change of plans. We’re staying here. Everyone else is in the shopping district, so if things go wrong…” Iskall trailed off.

“Then we’re the recovery team.” Ren finished the thought.

Tubbo, who was still rattled by the sound, still managed to push himself mostly past it. “Wh-what do you mean? Is T-Tommy going to be okay?”

Iskall, who had the most experience with Grian’s trouble with being a Watcher, seemed hesitant about his answer, but did give it. “Well, I think Tommy might actually be the safest one out there, though it’s still dangerous.”

“Then we need to go help!” Tubbo said, giving no chance for anyone to stop him as he ran out of the tree. Fundy quickly followed, and Ren and Iskall after him after they unfroze from their surprise. 

“Ren, Fundy, how about you two stay behind. We should have at least someone as an emergency team. I don’t want Tubbo going alone and I doubt we can do anything to stop him. I’m also not letting him head out there alone and I’m the one who knows the most about this.”

Ren Tried to argue, but Iskall shut him down. “Right, Fundy, let’s stay back.” The fox looked sadly at Ren, but relented and stayed back with him. Iskall started getting his wings ready to fly, but saw Tubbo had none of his own, so instead they headed to the nether portal.

Hermits surrounded the crater, weapons drawn. They created a wall of armor that protected their previous enemy. Mumbo took a risk and slid down to try and pull Technoblade away, but the piglin warrior refused to budge. With that out the window and no easy way out, Mumbo tried to reason with his friend. “Grian, calm down, you saved Tommy. You don’t need to be a Watcher right now.” Murmuring came from the opposing army. A few of them had heard of Watchers but never seen one. 

Grian cocked his head to one side, staring Mumbo down with all but one of his eyes, the last one continuing to watch Techno. Mumbo tried once more to move Techno, but he stood firm, causing Mumbo’s foot to slip. The sudden movement and noise made Grian’s feathers ruffle and Mumbo froze completely. Grian then moved his hand toward Tommy and Techno jumped to attack with a new weapon, only for it to shatter as well. The Watcher started to stand up only for the Hermits at his back to first arrows at him. He screeched in pain, focusing on his attackers and turning away from Techno and Mumbo.

Techno moved first, getting to Tommy’s side and starting to pull him away. Being so close Grian immediately noticed and attempted to attack, but Mumbo moved in front of the warrior and put his shield up, deflecting the attack. The expression on Grian’s face almost looked hurt as Techno escaped with Tommy and climbed up out of the crater with one hand.

Tommy started to wake up just as Techno reached Phil. The former king took his son from Techno’s arms and held him close. Dream smiled down at Tommy, glad to have his pawn return to the board. As a Watcher, Grian saw it all. He flapped his wings, using his Watcher magic to strengthen the effects and create a windstorm around him and everyone nearby. 

Scar and Cub were blown away by the wind as they still sported their vex wings which caught the wind easily. Philza also had to be held down for the same reason. As the wind whipped around, Grian flew into the air and launched himself at Philza and began to parrot Techno once more.

“How dare you defile the Blood God!” Techno yelled, ready to defend his family. But Grian didn’t stop, landing next to them. He looked at his father and brothers, noting one was missing.

“Someone’s missing” The Watcher hissed out. “And we saw he isn’t dead anymore. Your admin revived him.”

Tommy stared up at what Grian had become. The six purple eyes were now accompanied by a mouth full of pointed teeth and his hair has seemed to have turned into feathers. He was also taller and his feet were changed into talons. Tommy wasn’t sure how much was just how Watchers looked and how much was an emphasization of Grian’s avian self, but no matter what, Grian’s current state was terrifying.

Tommy tried to escape his dad’s arms, but Phil refused to let him go. Dream moved to stand between Tommy and Grian which made him even more upset about being unable to move. “How about we leave while we still can. We rescued Tommy. Let these Hermits deal with their own problems.”

Phil nodded and was starting to move before Tommy writhed in his arms. “No! I don’t want to go back! I need to help Grian!”

“Tommy, they just kept you trapped here and wouldn’t let you see your friends and family. Tubbo lifted your exile and I did everything to find a way to give you a path home. Don’t you remember all the time I spent with you? Think of this as paying me back for-”

“You’re not my friend Dream.” Tommy cut his former admin off, finally escaping Philza’s arms. “You never were. And if you were, I wouldn’t need to pay you back for just being with me. And you!” Tommy looked at his brother. “I kept trying to trust you, tried to get my brother back, but you won’t stop listening to the voices. And dad…” Tommy looked at Philza, but couldn’t get the words out. “I… I... “

Philza was knocked down and pinned under Grian’s foot. “No more Empire for you. Ice and snow don’t really fit with birds anyway, now do they.”

Philza grabbed the foot on his chest and tried to push it off him, but instead the talons just dug deeper into his chest. “Leave my son alone!” He gritted out, just making Grian laugh.

“Leave him alone? Like what you did? Abandoned him out in the middle of nowhere? I guess Techno really was the favorite. Or will you lose him as well?”

Philza managed to pull out his sword and slash it against Grian. It didn’t break, but the durability fell a dangerous amount. Angrily, Grian pushed his foot down harder on Philza, making the man wheeze. When others tried to step forward to help, corrupted parrot wings pushed them away.

“You abandoned one son, let another die, and lost the third to time.” Grian taunted and Philza’s face went white.

“Thi- y-you know what happened to-?”

“The Watchers had plenty of fun with him.” Grian answered, not directly answering that he was the third child and not giving up that he was still alive.

Techno’s eyes blazed with fury and attacked Grian. “You took him?!”

Grian just laughed and dodged the attacks. Tommy realized the avian was just toying with him. It reminded him of what Dream did. In a panic, Tommy put down his shulker box. A number of SMP members looked at it greedily, even amongst the current chaos. Tommy opened it up and pulled out two things, a jukebox, and a music disc. Tommy didn’t know if it would work, but he hoped that based on how Grian was acting, there were enough parrot instincts in there that he would listen.

He placed down the jukebox and inserted the disc, remembering it was one of Grian’s favorites. Erupting out of the speakers of the jukebox game was a laugh of a certain hermit which immediately pulled the Watcher’s attention. The jukebox then proceeded to play one of the songs for Mumbo’s mayoral campaign, and Grian stopped what he was doing and started dancing to the song.

Immediately Hermits raced towards Grian, pulling leads out and tying him up. He almost escaped when the song ended, but Tommy quickly put in the second of the two songs. After switching between the two a few times, the Hermits were able to completely tie Grian up.

Tommy put his jukebox and discs away and then picked up his shulker box before trying to go to Grian, but was grabbed by Philza. “Tommy, stay away from him.”

Tommy tried to argue, but then there was another shout. “TOMMY!”

Tommy turned, looking for the shout. “Tubbo?” Before he could notice his best friend in the crowd, Tubbo tackled him. There was an angry noise from Grian and he attempted escape, but stopped when laughter rang out from the reunited pair. “Tubbo I missed you so much!”

“Are you okay? Fundy took us to a friend of his here and then there was an explosion. They said you would be in the middle of it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Tommy gave a small laugh. “No way Big G would hurt me.”

“Big G? Did you replace me?” Tubbo looked genuinely hurt until Tommy hugged him.

“I would never. You’re my best friend and nothing will change that.”

“That’s wonderful!” Tommy froze as Dream spoke, fully remembering the situation he was in. “Now that everything is sorted, we can go back home.”

“Not a chance, green bitch.” Tommy half growled at his old tormenter. “I’m staying here.” He almost pulled out his weapon, ready to attack when he noticed something else. “Tubbo, do you have seeds?”

“Uh, yeah, Fundy and I went through a jungle and it was a pain to get through all the foliage. Why?” Tommy held his hand out and Tubbo handed him the seeds.

“Hey G! Look what I got!” Tommy shouted and then held up the seeds. Since the music worked, he assumed this would as well. He was right when Grian’s eyes landed on the treat and seemed to light up. Nearby, Philza wiped away just a little bit of drool and shook his head, still recovering from nearly being crushed to death.

“Well would you look at that Dream, I can control the Watcher. And not just any Watcher, right?” Tommy gave a smug smile, having heard the play by play of Grian becoming the Dreamslayer many a time.

A few of those from the smp gasped as Dream actually dropped his weapon and surrendered. It was something no one thought would happen, especially at Tommy’s hand. Tommy put the seeds away and behind him Iskall and Mumbo started to work on calming Grian down. 

After he started down Dream a bit longer, Tommy grabbed Tubbo’s hand and pulled him over to Grian. “Big T, meet Big G. He doesn’t normally look like this though, but he does look pretty pog right now.” Tubbo asked if Grian really hadn’t hurt Tommy. “Of course, he’s too much of a charrot and is super protective of me.”

With Tommy’s back turned, Dream tried one last time to grab him. The second he started to move, all the leads snapped and Grian moved to the same point. He brought down an axe and hit Dream in the face, shattering the mask he wore. “I don’t think I got any blood yet.” Grian smiled. Tommy was scared for a moment of losing his brother more, but actually noticed him returning back to normal. “Blood for the Blood God and all that.”

The changes stopped for a moment as purple energy swirled around Dream. He covered his face, expecting to be slain, but no death arrived. The energy dissipated and then Grian finally turned back to normal and collapsed to the ground laughing weakly. “I’m… so glad I kept tabs on you guys.”

Tommy tried to hug Grian but he was beaten by Mumbo getting their first. “Okay! Fine! I get it! Best friends over family.” Tommy joked and then hugged Tubbo. “I can do that too.”

Philza and Techno attempted to approach Tommy, but Grian opened a wing and then pulled Tommy and Tubbo to his side. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Dad, I just explained this to Tubbo. He’s not gonna hurt me.” Tommy complained with a bit of a whine.

Philza wasn’t convinced. “Tommy, I heard what he said. He’s a Watcher, and they killed your brother.”

“He got better!” Tommy retorted immediately, not really thinking the response out. Grian doubled over laughing at it.

“It’s not some joke!” Phil said sternly, making Tommy freeze. Grian stopped hugging Mumbo and stepping in front of Tommy. He was unsteady on his feet and feeling exhausted, but nevertheless, he stood there.

“Xelqua lives.” Grian spoke, making Phil’s eyes widen. “Only thing the Watchers did was mess with him. Then they gave him an offer to join them. Oh, he also changed his name to Grian.”

Philza looked Grian up and down, trying to see if he was lying. And then the words actually registered in his brain. “Xelqua?”

“Hey dad.”

[my-makeshift-masquerade]

how u feel about furries?

See, I wouldn’t say I am one in the sense that I’ve been part of the online community, but I’d say I am one because I believe everyone is. Yeah, you heard me. I think everyone’s technically a furry in some capacity. The general definition of “furry” I’ve gotten is simply someone who consumes/enjoys media depicting anthropomorphic animals.

And, hot dog! Wouldn’t you know it! One of the most popular brand icons in the entire world is literally an anthropomorphic mouse in trousers!

My point is that the anthropomorphism of animals, objects, ideas and concepts has been part of human storytelling since the dawn of time. We have to make inhuman things more human in order for us to relate to them as characters. It’s a storytelling necessity! I don’t think there is a way we can separate this idea from the rest of media, call it some secluded niche, and say only a few supposedly weird people fall into it. We all grew up watching reading or consuming something that would today be called “furry” media, and loving it!

The online furry community is a totally different conversation, though. From what I understand, it is mainly a subculture surrounding the concept of anthropomorphism, which was also a place many LGBTQ+ people found acceptance and belonging. I respect that, and think it’s great that communities can form around things like this!

As for my own preferences when it comes to “furry media”, I adore the perfect middle ground between human and inhuman. I don’t enjoy seeing art of an animal head ears or tail on a perfectly drawn human body, and calling it a day. I think that just doesn’t give the animal enough credit. The style of “furry” I enjoy is the style of anthropomorphism you see used in films like Lion King, The Jungle Book, Bambi, or Robin Hood. Let’s use Lion King as an example because it’s my favorite!

As you can see, the characters still share most qualities with their animal counterparts, which makes them even more unique in design, but they have just enough human qualities in them for the audience to relate to. I think a big part of why the “live action” remakes Disney attempted for these films crashed and burned was because the anthropomorphism was all removed… in favor of realistic CGI graphics!

Can you tell me how little Simba is feeling in that first gif of the animated film? Bright eyed, curious, a little confused as he’s just a cub. How about Simba in that second gif there? How’s he feeling? Go on… You can’t tell me much beyond repeating what you said for the first knowing it’s the same scene, can you? How about we look for a different lion character that wasn’t in the animated gif above? What about Mufasa and Sarabi? You can’t tell their exact emotions here either? Why not? They look so proud of their new cub in the animated version! See?

It’s because our brains can’t read the facial expressions of wild animals accurately. We don’t know how a real life lion feels! They don’t emote in the same ways we do! We can look for patterns in an animal’s body language but that’s about it. The rest is human emotion we project onto them, which is why the technique of anthropomorphism works! This is why anthropomorphism is so important in media, and why I’ll never reduce it down to just being a “furry” thing.

[theoneandonlyyeti]

Had some time, so I colored a page from the Hermitcraft Coloring Book: Winter Edition! This was so much fun and I definitely recommend getting the full book. It can be found here!

I don’t think I’ve ever drawn Cub so this was a fun first! <3

[yuta-nakamots]

Walk You Home - l.jn

Pairing - Idol!Jeno x Idol!Reader

Genre - Fluff, friends to lovers, kinda crack-ish

Warnings - None (please feel free to let me know if I should add any though)

Summary - You met Jeno when you were a trainee and he had lent you his shoulder to cry on. He became one of your closest friends and one of your best supporters, eventually merging the two and becoming your best friend. Your friendship with Jeno was something you wouldn’t trade for anything, maybe aside for an actual relationship with him.

Word Count - 8.3k

A/N - this is inspired by a dream i had two months ago so it’s not really the best storyline lmao but let me know what you guys think. character inspo drawn from @t-aeycng​ as Soojin because she is truly a wonderful person and you should definitely check out her work as well

You ran up the stairs, stepping onto the stage overlooking the sea of fans, the largest audience you’ve ever performed in front of. You looked away from the crowd and your eyes instead settled on Jeno’s face, wanting nothing more than his comforting frame against yours but that was something you didn’t think you would ever tell him.

Three years ago, when you first joined SM Entertainment, you had left your home country in hopes of pursuing your passion of getting to perform in front of thousands of people. It was spring when you first arrived, you thought it was quite fitting as you were beginning a new chapter of your life just as the Earth was too. When you first came to Korea, you had little knowledge of the language and culture and were immediately labeled as an outcast among the other female trainees. They didn’t exactly mistreat you in any way, they just didn’t include you in activities because they didn’t know you or have any way to communicate with you.

You spent your days holed up in practice rooms and even on the days where you had training sessions with the other girls, most of them barely made any effort to talk to you, excluding one person. Her name is Soojin. From the time you first saw her, you knew she was going to be popular. She was beautiful no matter what angle you looked at her from and she had a personality to match.

After a particularly difficult dance class, all the others had left for the cafeterias, talking about how the teacher was so harsh this time around. The only ones left behind were you, packing up your things, and Soojin who was still practicing what you were taught that day. Right as you were about to leave, she called out your name.

“Do you want to eat together?” She asked, speaking slowly and carefully enunciating her words so you could understand. You were frozen in shock and all you could do was nod your head and shyly say yes.

From that day on, Soojin was essentially your guardian angel. She made sure to introduce you to everyone and include you when they went out together, she helped you develop your language skills and taught you how to get through the weekly tests the trainees were put through. You clung to Soojin the way a baby cub does to its mother.

During the holidays, she told you she wouldn’t be staying at the company and instead, going home to her family. She graciously invited you over, to which you declined, not wanting to embarrass yourself and your elementary speaking skills. You were unsure how you’d function without her, but you’d soon become grateful for that week because that was when you met Jeno.

It was already 9pm yet you were still in a practice room, not quite able to perfect a run in a song you were preparing for the weekly exams. You were tired and lonely, feeling more homesick than ever now that you were left on your own without Soojin to comfort you. You sat down, deciding to let yourself rest for a few minutes as you scrolled through social media and saw your friends and family posting pictures of their festivities together, causing tears to escape from your eyes and you let yourself fully break down, feelings of loneliness and yearning tearing at your heart.

You didn’t know how you missed the sound of the door opening, but suddenly there was a warm hand on your shoulder and a simple “hey” spoken from someone with a warm and rich voice. You looked up and immediately froze on the spot. You had seen other senior artists around the company before but they had never talked to you before, as you were only a trainee and they probably didn’t even know your name, yet here was Jeno, squatting down in front of you, his eyes searching yours to find the reason why you were crying all alone in a practice room.

“Are you okay?” That was all Jeno asked, his hand leaving your shoulder as he sat down in front of you. He waited for a bit as you tried to calm yourself down and dry your tears. “I’m Jeno, but I suppose you already knew that. Your name is?”

“Y/n,” you said, your breath almost catching in your throat as you involuntarily hiccuped, “I’m a trainee and I’ve been in Korea for six months” you told him, just as Soojin had taught you.

You saw Jeno’s features soften as he started to piece together why you were crying. “Your Korean is pretty good for coming only six months ago,” he said before continuing on, “but you shouldn’t be crying alone in a practice room.”

You looked up at him, telling him that usually, you’d be with Soojin but she went home and you’re not really close to any of the other trainees. He nodded his head, seeming to understand your message through your basic Korean. “I really would like to stay and comfort you, but my members are coming soon because we have to practice for one of the end-of-year festivals.”

You pushed yourself off from the ground to unplug your phone from the stereo and pack up, understanding where he was going with this but he followed you, not yet done talking. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to give you my number so you can contact me whenever Soojin’s not around.” You turned to face him, shock evident on your face. “You won’t be bothering me, I promise,” Jeno said, trying his best to reassure you, “aside from practicing and performing I really don’t do much so you’d be welcome to text me anytime you want someone to talk to. I’d hate for you to go through this alone.”

He fished his phone out from his pocket, opening up a new chat and handing it to you, “here, you can even send the first message so you know that it’s me.” You accepted his offer and typed in your own number along with a short message to let you know it’s Jeno and hit send before handing him back his phone, feeling your own buzz in your hand, and light up showing the message you had just sent.

Unknown Number > y/n 9:15pm: Hello, this is Jeno

Jeno helped you gather your belongings and walked you to the door, even holding it open for you. You gave him a shy ‘thank you’ before stepping out into the hallway and he smiled at you saying that he’ll text you once his own practice is over not even a second before sound of his members coming down the hallway can be heard from their obnoxious yelling and giggling.

Jeno kept his word and as you were getting ready for bed that night in the empty dorm, you received another message from him.

Jeno > y/n 10:31pm: Y/n I just ended my practice and I’m heading to my dorm now. What are you doing?

Y/n > Jeno 10:32pm: Thinking about my next exam. They’re difficult.

Jeno > y/n 10:32pm: Ah, I remember those 10:33pm: I didn’t like them either but it feels good when you look back and see your progress

You maintained the conversation until he told you he arrived at his dorm building, to which he told you he’d text you after he washed up and ate dinner. He indeed texted you, but you were already fast asleep, the crying from earlier finally catching up with you. From then on, not a single week went by where Jeno didn’t text you.

Jeno always made sure to check up on you after an exam, asking how you did, encouraging you when you didn’t do so well, and praising you when you did do well. He even treated you to dinner a few times to congratulate you whenever you earned a B or better. He was pretty much your stand-in Soojin for whenever she was gone or got too busy with other things. He was just as patient as she was when it came to teaching you Korean and explaining things to you, his signature eye-smile showing whenever you repeated a new word back to him.

Soojin was surprised when you told her about your new friend when she came back to the dorms, almost kicking your door down in her excitement to see you, but she later held your hands in excitement saying “I can’t believe my y/n made her first friend on her own! And it’s Jeno! THE Lee Jeno from THE NCT Dream of all people! Maybe I should leave you more often” she joked before flopping down on your bed next to you to hear more about your relationship with Jeno.

Within another year and a half, you had debuted in SM’s newest six-member girl group, with Soojin as your leader, and Jeno wasn’t shy about showing his support for your group. When you coincidentally promoted alongside NCT Dream, he always made sure to wish you good luck before you went on stage and gave you tips after monitoring your performance. On one of the music shows, Jeno and the boys had won first place and they all insisted on keeping you and your group on stage with them.

Jeno’s face lit up when you danced the chorus of the song with him and he burst out in laughter when you imitated his own rapping part. There was something about you, the way you smiled as you clowned him, the way your eyes shone when he complimented your dancing. Jeno was beginning to fall for you.

Fans of both of your groups had noticed your close relationship, and though dating rumors were inevitable, most of them found the two of you to be quite cute together. You had seen a few of the compilation videos they had made for you and him though you only watched a handful of them and never dared to show them to Jeno, not wanting him to get the wrong idea because unbeknownst to him, you were falling for him too.

When the next SMTown concert was announced to be in your home country, you were overjoyed at the thought of being able to go home after two whole years away. You immediately texted Jeno to express your excitement and he matched it, jokingly telling you that he couldn’t wait to meet your friends and family.

A few days later, Jeno texts you asking if you’re free to hang out.

Jeno > y/n  4:38pm: are you free on Wednesday night? 4:38pm: Jaemin wanted to go grocery shopping after practice 4:38pm: Soojin said you guys are running low on toiletries so you can come too if you want

y/n > Jeno 4:47pm: yeah I’m free but I have practice on Wednesday night too

Jeno > y/n 4:50pm: really? What time?

y/n > Jeno 4:51pm: I think Soojin said 7

Jeno > y/n 4:51pm: wait really? That’s when I’m supposed to have practice I think 4:52pm: Renjun and Jisung both said 7 as well 4:52pm: did they tell you which room you’re in?

y/n > Jeno 4:54pm: I think it’s the basement one 4:54pm: don’t know why they have us in that huge one though

Jeno > y/n 4:55pm: no way! We’re supposed to be in the basement too! 4:56pm: do you think they mixed up our schedules on accident?

y/n > Jeno 5:00pm: I just asked my manager, he said that’s the one we’re supposed to be in

Jeno > y/n 5:01pm: that’s what mine just said too! 5:02pm: y/n, do you think...maybe...just maybe…

y/n > Jeno 5:02pm: what, Jen? just say it lol

Jeno > y/n 5:02pm: we’re working together for a performance?!

When you arrived at the basement practice room, the largest one in the building, sure enough, Jeno was in there waiting for you along with the other members of Dream. You ran to him and hugged him out of the sheer excitement coming from the idea that you’d be getting to perform together.

You and Jeno were so overly happy that it made Haechan gag while Jisung plugged his ears with his fingers and made a pained face at Chenle. However, your hug had the opposite effect on Jeno. He felt a burst of butterflies rise from the bottom of his stomach and he excused it as simply being excited to perform with you after having seen your hard work through your trainee days.

The dance your groups would be doing has a little bit of a darker sexy vibe which was something your group had never tried before. While it was something completely new to you, the boys had already done it before so they had fun showing you guys the right expressions and laughing as you and your members tried to copy them.

The type of dance was a little more provocative too and it wasn’t exactly your forte but you tried your best. You caught Jeno looking your way a couple of time but you figure he’s just trying to make sure you’re doing okay. Eventually, you give up trying on your own and you turn to go ask him for help during a break, slightly surprised to see that his eyes were already on you.

“Jeno, I don’t get that one move, the one that goes like this” you say and show it to him, his eyes glued to your figure as he tries to analyze what you’re doing.

You saw his tongue peek out from between his lips, a common habit of his when he’s really thinking, which doesn’t happen very often. “I think you’re being a little too loose with your movements, try tense up your arms and do it sharper” he explained, showing you through his own example.

You tried it again but you could tell you still weren’t doing it right from the way he sighed and moved to stand behind you. You felt the warmth from his chest seeping through both of your shirts and you had to fight the urge to just lean back against his strong shoulders but luckily you’re snapped out of your short daydream by Jeno’s hands wrapping around your wrists to guide your movements.

He ran through it a couple of times and you quickly caught on thanks to his teaching. Just as you turned your head to thank him, Jeno wrapped his arms around your body, embracing you in a hug and bringing his head to rest on your shoulder. Shocked by the close proximity of your faces, you both jump away from each other and start apologizing as your cheeks start to heat up. Fortunately, you were saved from your embarrassment when you hear Soojin calling everyone back from their break and you scampered away to stand with your members.

The head choreographer began pairing people up and you almost let out a squeal when she said you and Jeno would be together. There were no intimate portions of the choreography except for one short moment when you had to stare him down as you circle around each other as if you were ‘two lions about to fight’ as Haechan had explained it.

You and Jeno couldn’t help but giggle and make faces at each other every time that part comes up until both of you got yelled at and caused everyone to have to do push-ups as a punishment, angry glares being cast your way from your members.

The next time that part came up, you’re just slightly startled when Jeno completely switches to his performance mode and looks at you with a sultry glint in his eyes. You’ve seen this look thousands of times before while he’s up on stage whether it be from the sidelines or through a screen, but there was something different when you see it up close and you know his eyes are on you.

You took it as an opportunity to learn from him and try to give him the same gaze back during the following run through and when his eyes meet yours, you see them instantly shift away to somewhere behind you and you let out a slight smirk, finding it amusing how Jeno could still be so shy when you’re merely copying his own actions.

During the final run of the day, his gaze locked with yours and doesn’t wander away for even a second, almost as if he’s challenging you to look away first. You had to remind yourself that it’s just an act that he’s putting on for the sake of the performance, he’s not actually challenging you, though you almost wish he was. As soon as it ends, you’re broken out of the trance that is Lee Jeno himself while he went straight to his members, not even bothering to talk to you and give you feedback like he usually did.

You didn’t know what just happened, but you could feel there was now some sort of tension separating you and Jeno.

As all of you were monitoring the run on the large TV, Renjun laughed while saying “Jeno and Y/n look like they’re about to fight.” Your members giggled at his joke and one of them even calls it a ‘lover’s quarrel’. You didn’t dare look over at Jeno but you could feel his now-familiar gaze locked on you.

As your groups continued practicing together and the concert drew closer and closer, the tension between you and Jeno only grew worse, neither of you interacting with each other aside for during the dance itself. You found yourself itching to talk to him and tell him about the cute hat you saw in a store the other day, or how Soojin almost burnt the kitchen down while cooking dinner the week before. You didn’t have the guts to talk to Jeno, not when his jaw was squared shut and he wouldn’t even look at you unless it was during the dance.

During a break in one of the last rehearsals in Korea, you were playing around with your members and trying to do different tricks like backbends, roundhouses, aerials, and such. You knew these were Jeno’s specialty and you were taken aback when he didn’t come over to show off his skills and instead Jaemin did, though he was nowhere close to being as good as Jeno as he clumsily fell over from the handstand he was doing, causing you to have a fit of laughter.

Jeno doesn’t know why he feels so upset to see you laughing because of his groupmate and he especially doesn’t understand why he feels angry when Jaemin tries to spot you as you do a handstand and end up falling and dragging Jaemin down with you, both of you almost scream-laughing as your bodies lay tangled with each other.

It only gets worse when later that week, as Jeno is eating dinner with the other members, he sees Renjun’s phone light up showing a message from you telling him to enjoy his meal. Jeno didn’t even know the two of you had exchanged numbers and it was starting to drive him insane when your name kept popping up on Renjun’s phone throughout the night and not once on his own.

Renjun catches him staring, to which he leered, “what, lover boy? Are you mad that you can’t keep y/n all to yourself? Just relax, I’m only texting her to learn some phrases before the concert.” Jeno didn’t respond, not wanting to expose the fact that he didn’t even have you anymore, best friend or not.

He finished eating and excused himself from the table, leaving to go wallow in his own self-pity because he had unintentionally broken your friendship. He had realized his own feelings for you during that one dance practice but proceeded to distance himself from you out of fear that acting on his feelings would ruin your relationship, leading to the exact opposite to ruin it. Jeno cried himself to sleep that night hoping that the phrase ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ would hold true on your end, that you were missing him just as much as he was missing you.

The next time you saw Jeno was at the airport when all the company was getting ready to leave for your home country. He was wearing a simple outfit consisting of a plain black t-shirt with his black joggers along with a black snapback and his glasses to complete his plain yet oh so attractive full black outfit.

You were sitting in the lounge area with your members and one of them pointed him out and commented on how good he looks. You glanced over just in time to see him momentarily take his hat off and run a hand through his soft, light brown hair before placing his hat back on his head.

You felt a slight shiver go up through your spine as you watched him do such a simple action yet you were unnerved to hear that one of your members found him attractive even if you did too and you knew thousands of his fans did as well. Maybe distance made your heart grow fonder of him, given all the time the two of you spent away from each other and just wanting your best friend back. A few minutes later, after zoning out for a while, you were brought back to reality by your phone vibrating, showing three messages from Jaemin whose number you had gotten through Renjun.

Jaemin > y/n 8:16am: what rows do you guys have? 8:17am: we have 13 and 14. I’ll be sitting with Jisung 8:17am: he overpacked his snacks so now I have some of them. You’re more than welcome to come over and help yourself to them

Y/n > Jaemin 8:18am: we’re 16 and 17 8:18am: i’m not that hungry right now but I just stop by during the flight

You indeed took Jaemin up on his offer about halfway through the flight when your members were complaining about not liking the food being served. You mentioned how Jaemin had snacks he didn’t mind sharing and they immediately begged you to get them from him. You had forgotten to wear a hoodie so you were snuggled into the airline blanket for warmth, not wanting to leave your spot, but you ultimately lost a game of rock paper scissors so you had no other choice but to shake off the blanket and brace yourself for the cold.

As you trudged your way up a few rows, you easily find Jisung due to his large frame, though he was asleep while Jaemin was nowhere to be found, presumably having gone to the bathroom. You didn’t even bother looking around you to see where the other members were, your only goal in mind being the snacks in Jaemin’s bag because the quicker you found them, the quicker you could go back to your warm seat.

You opened up the overhead compartment and spotted Jaemin’s bag, though it was almost out of your reach. You raised yourself onto your tip-toes as you struggled to reach it when suddenly there was a warm hand on your waist and someone against your back. You froze, watching as the stranger easily grabbed the backpack and brought it down safely, handing it to you.

You turned around only to find Jeno looking down at you. It felt like a whole minute passed as you both just stared at each other, neither of you wanted to speak first, when really only a few seconds went by before Jaemin came walking down the aisle.

“Ah, y/n, you came!” He exclaimed, taking his backpack from your hold and unzipping it, “Sorry, I was in the bathroom, but I’m glad you were able to find my bag” he said, opening it up and showing you all the snacks he had. “Did you want some too, Jeno?” he asked, noticing Jeno’s presence behind you.

“No, I just came by to ask Jisung something,” he stated, “but I’ll come by later since he’s asleep” he said, already turning to walk back to his seat.

Once he was out of earshot, Jaemin sighed before telling you, “he’s been acting really weird lately. Even in the dorms, he’s all quiet and moody and none of us know why.”

“Maybe he’s on his man-period” you quipped while you took a few snacks from the bag while Jaemin rolled his eyes at your immature joke. You thanked him for the snacks and made your way back to your group members who were overjoyed when you handed them the bags of chips and dried fruit, all the bags opened within mere seconds. You only ate a bit, preferring to wait until you got to the hotel where you could eat room service food instead.

About an hour later, Soojin, who was sitting next to you, got up and told you she was going to the bathroom. You hum in response to let her know you heard. Not even a whole minute passes by before she sits back down next to you. You looked up from the game on your phone, asking her “did you even wash your hands-”, but you stopped midsentence when you realized you were looking at the face of Jeno, not Soojin.

Before you could say anything else, Jeno already blurted out the words, “I’m sorry.” You were still in shock, continuing to look at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. Jeno continued on anyways, “look I know I’ve been really cold and distant towards you for the past few weeks but that’s because...because-,” you noticed him fidgeting with his hands and you shifted in your seat to face him and look him in the eyes, “because I have feelings for you” he said, his words coming out almost too fast for you to process.

“Y/n, I didn’t want my feelings to ruin our relationship because I truly do treasure what we had, or had, as best friends, yet I allowed myself to break us apart somehow and I really do feel like shit because of it-”

“Jeno, it’s okay-” you began, cutting him off.

“No, y/n, it’s not okay,” he interjected, resuming his previous thought, “especially since you are finally returning home after two years away, I want you to be happy during this time,” his hands now shifting to play with a loose thread hanging from his shirt, “and I want to be able to be with you and share that happiness because I still remember the broken-hearted girl who was crying by herself in the practice room from homesickness.”

“Jeno, I...wow, I don’t know what to say” you mumbled, letting yourself fall into your seat, your thoughts running wild in your head.

“I know this is extremely sudden, but I just want our old relationship back. I want to stand by your side and watch you smile. I won’t even bother asking you to be my girlfriend because I know you’re going to reject me so don’t worry about that” he stated, dejection obvious in his voice.

Your head snapped up to face him, “what if I told you that I wouldn’t reject you?” Now it was Jeno’s turn to be stunned speechless. “I need some time to think this, to think us over” you confessed, motioning between the two of you to get your point across. “I need time, but I’m willing to be friends first before anything else” you conclude.

Jeno was wringing out his hands and picking his nails while smiling as he whispered “thank you” before he froze when you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you” you murmured into his ear.

Jeno allowed himself to sink into your embrace before telling you “I missed you too.”

Both of you stayed there, enjoying the feeling of finally holding each other after being apart for so long until you pulled away to grab your phone just as it was about to slide off your lap. The display lit up and you realized you’ve been talking to Jeno for well over ten minutes, which made you worry about Soojin as she still hasn’t returned from the bathroom yet.

“I think I’m gonna go check on Soojin” you said, taking the blanket off of you as you stood up from your seat.

Jeno grabbed your hand before you could step out into the aisle. “She’s in my seat with Chenle,” he reassured, “I ran into her when she was leaving the bathroom and I asked her if she’d be okay with staying with Chenle for a bit while I talk to you.” You peered over the rows in front of you, and you found Chenle’s blonde head indeed next to your leader just as she playfully shoved him, no doubt playing that kart rider game everyone was obsessed with recently.

As you sat back down, relieved at knowing Soojin was okay, you shivered due to the few seconds you were exposed to the cold air hitting your skin as you searched for her. You do your best to steel yourself and not show Jeno that you were cold, knowing that he’d scold you, but he already knew you’d be cold when he saw you in the airport only in a t-shirt and leggings.

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” he says, more of a rhetorical and sarcastic than anything, answering his own question muttering “of course you are” as he leans back to take off his hoodie, unintentionally flashing you his abs in the process causing both of you to shy away from each other as he hands you your saving grace of the flight. You gratefully took the hoodie from him, letting out a sigh of relief when you pull it down over your body and feel its warmth made from Jeno’s body heat.

Jeno stayed with you for the rest of the flight and only leaves to go back to his seat when the flight attendant announces that the plane will be landing shortly. Luckily, your members were asleep and hadn’t witnessed your exchange with Jeno but they knew something was up when they saw you in the hoodie you certainly did not have on earlier.

Soojin smiled at you as she returned to her seat, buckling herself in while telling you “I’m glad you and Jeno are talking again. Not gonna lie, it was pretty awkward during rehearsals.” She only chuckled when you shrunk into the hoodie, pulling the strings of the hood closed over your face to hide your embarrassment.

By the time you arrived at the hotel, you were dead tired. You just wanted to shower and go to sleep which is exactly what you do once you reach your shared hotel room with Soojin.

You crawled into your bed, freshly showered and already half-asleep, ready to succumb to your exhaustion. Right as you were about to doze off, you heard your phone go off, pulling you out of your near-sleeping state. You reached around for it and turned it on silent once you got your hands on it, reading the notification that had rudely awakened you.

Jeno > y/n 12:13am: You looked really tired earlier so I’m pretty sure you’re already sleeping, but I hope you rest well. Only one more rehearsal tomorrow (today? Because it’s already midnight??) and we’ll be performing in front of your friends and family the day after! Let’s do well :)

y/n > Jeno 12:16am: I was almost about to fall asleep but I’m not mad only because it’s you 12:17am: Let’s show them the most powerful best friend duo in the world

You saw that Jeno had immediately read your message but you didn’t bother waiting for his response, already drifting off to sleep once again, though you wouldn’t have gotten a response anyways because Jeno thought you just friend-zoned him.

From the start of your day, you were already swamped with activities, shooting tons of videos in your native language to thank your fans and prompt your group while also being an in-house translator for your other members as they shot their own individual videos. It wasn’t until after the full rehearsal started that you were finally allowed some time to slow down and rest. Your group had already finished the first performance in the show and now you were in the on-deck area waiting for NCT Dream to meet you guys for your short joint rehearsal before going on stage.

You heard them coming before you even see them, the infamous “hi everyone! This is Haechan cam with 37.5% viewer ratings” greeting ringing out from the hallway. You and your members didn’t know he’d be filming so you hadn’t done anything to take care of your appearances like hair and makeup but all of you respectfully stood up to greet him and the other Dream members.

Your members grumbled amongst themselves as Haechan left the camera filming during your on-stage rehearsal, saying how they hoped this section wouldn’t get aired because none of you looked good without your hair and makeup done as you all fell into formation. You hadn’t noticed Jeno’s presence behind you, “I think you look nice, don’t let the girls tell you otherwise”, his short affirmation startling you, barely having time to shoot him a quick smile before the music started playing.

You didn’t bother doing facial expressions since it was only a rehearsal and you already felt so drained. When it came time for the dreaded eye contact portion with Jeno, you were expecting the normal fierce look but instead, you were met with his eyes smile as he made faces at you, almost making you laugh. Jeno’s heart fluttered when he saw the grin you were holding back, happy that he was able to brighten your day, even if it was only for a few seconds. If this was all he could do to lift your mood, then that was what he would do.

The previous night, Jeno had convinced himself that no matter what happens between the two of you, friend zone or not, he was going to make sure you were happy and fully enjoyed this short trip because you deserved it. You were home, and home was the whole reason why he had met you crying in the practice room on that fateful night. He told himself that he’d deal with his own unrequited feelings later but for you, he’d temporarily push them aside so he could watch you flourish in the place you loved so dearly.

Bringing you back to the current moment, as you walk out across the stage alongside your members to meet the boys of Dream in the middle. You look into the ocean of people, admiring the colors of the lightsticks and their almost hypnotizing effect paired with the screams from the audience.

You are beyond nervous, Jeno could tell that much from the way you struggle to find his face, even more so to meet his eyes. During the performance, when you again gazed over at him, ready for his predatory look, you saw another batch of his funny expressions, though this time you didn’t try to hide the smile that crept onto your face as he ruined his image.

To Jeno, he doesn’t care about all the bad pictures he’d see of himself or the whooping he’d get from the performance directors later. He was willing to endure it all if it was for you.

By the end of the concert, you were spent, all your energy thrown out of your body from dancing and rapidly switching between languages to translate all too frequently. When you joined all the senior artists for the final stage, you let your body go on autopilot as you wandered around, trailing behind your group as you tried to read all the signs and banners the fans were holding up.

You were lost in your own world until you felt two very strong and familiar arms wrap around your waist, almost scaring you enough to jump off the edge of the stage. You hear Jeno’s laugh from behind you and you whip around ready to beat him up for nearly shoving you off the stage but you stop in your tracks when he extends his arms out to show you a large banner of your country’ flag with the words “We Love You Y/N” stitched onto it.

You felt your heart swell with pride as you immediately took the item from Jeno and turned to face the audience, doing your best to hold it up, though your arms alone weren’t enough. Jeno grabbed the end of the flag that was almost touching the ground as he laughed at you while helping you to fully show the flag and thank the fans.

After you let them take a few pictures, you wrapped it around your shoulders and happily skipped off to rejoin your group, Jeno hot on your tracks as all the artists go into a line to do the final bow all together. As you ran past your members, Jeno snatched onto you, pulling you into the line right where your two groups met, lacing his fingers with yours as you both raised your arms up to bow to the audience. If only both of you could feel what the other was feeling, you’d know that the tingle of excitement you both felt was not one-sided.

When everyone came together for the group picture, you ended up getting smashed between the countless members of NCT alongside Soojin whose hand you had grabbed onto during the bow. As the cameraman started to count down, you were suddenly lifted into the air, feeling hands on both sides of your hips. You looked down to see Jeno on one side and Soojin on the other as they held you up, causing your smile to grow wider just in time as the camera flashed.

After they put you down, you turned around and caught Soojin leaning it to whisper something into Jeno’s ear, a simple “I will” was all he said in response. Once Soojin had already walked away, you were about to ask Jeno what she said, but he acted faster, almost aggressively pulling you into a back-hug with on arm around your waist, the other being used to wave at fans and point out the signs with your name and pictures on them.

You don’t know if it’s the close proximity of your bodies or simply the excitement from being able to pick out your own fans and thank them, but you felt a rush of adrenaline as you walked with Jeno. You looked up at him, admiring his side profile, finally understanding why his fans always called him a prince as you felt your palms grow sweaty and your heart skip a beat. Maybe you had just realized your own feelings for Jeno.

Once the two-day concert was over, you stop by at your manager’s hotel room to ask if you were allowed to go out for the day, the urge to visit your hometown feeling stronger than ever. He graciously said yes, telling you to let him know if you needed any help and to be sure to take someone else along for safety measures. You thanked him and ran off towards the elevator, hitting the number of the floor you knew Jeno was on rather than heading back to your own.

You excitedly jogged down the hallway to his room and knocked on his door after double-checking his text message to make sure you had the right room. Jaemin opened the door, greeting you with his loud “ohoho!”

“Jaemin shut up, oh my gosh,’ you gasped, not wanting someone to file a noise complaint, “I’m here to ask Jeno about something.”

Jaemin pulled you into the room while yelling “yah, Jeno Lee, your girlfriend is here!” much to your embarrassment. Just as you were about to whine at him and deny Jaemin’s statement, you saw Jeno shoot up from where he was lying on his bed, grabbing the blanket in a failed effort to cover his naked torso and he flung himself off the bed, looking for a shirt to put on. You swear you could see a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks as he rummaged through his suitcase but you don’t know if it’s from the lighting of the room or if he’s actually blushing. You choose to believe the first option, not wanting to give yourself false hope.

You sat down on Jeno’s bed as you asked, “do you wanna go out with me?” to which Jeno froze in place as he tried to process your words. “I mean, would you like to go and spend the day with me because I want to go home and show you where I grew up” you blurted, quickly rephrasing your words as your own cheeks began to heat up.

Jeno only grunted a response, letting you know that he did want to go with you as he threw a shirt over his head. Jaemin let out a laugh of excitement while clapping his hands and squealing “eeheehee my babies are going on their first date together! Make sure to bring Nana some delicious snacks!”

“Yeah, we’ll get you the strawberry ones you love so much” Jeno said, causing Jaemin to pout as he flopped onto his bed. Before Jaemin could pester either of you any further, Jeno was already grabbing his things and pulling you out the door.

On the elevator ride down to the lobby, Jeno asked “so where exactly are we going today?” You pulled your phone out of your pocket and showed him pictures of your favorite restaurant from you old neighborhood as you searched up the directions on google maps. You started telling him about all the memories you had there and how good the food was, and though Jeno was listening to you, he was really only paying attention to your face. He loved the way the edges of your crinkled when you smiled, the was your eyes shone when you talked with so much excitement.

Once both of you were in one of the company vans and you had already given the directions to the staff member who’d be driving, you decided to take a nap in your seat, already dozing off before you had even left the hotel parking lot. Jeno took a moment to admire your sleeping form next to him, finding you just as beautiful as when you’re awake. He took a few pictures of you, not wanting to let this moment go to waste before he too allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

You woke up to Jeno gently shaking you and telling you that you’re outside the restaurant, your half-asleep state barely even remembering which country you were in. You took a few seconds as your brain started functioning again and you wasted no time in yanking the door open and thanking the staff member as you jumped out of the van, Jeno following your actions as you nearly ran into the restaurant.

The second you set foot through the entrance, the sounds and the smells brought back so many memories and you almost teared up though you quickly brushed it off as you switched into your native language and asked the hostess for a table for two. As you followed her through to all so familiar restaurant, Jeno looked around, admiring the artwork scattered across the walls as he said the phrase ‘so beautiful’ in your language.

You whipped around when you recognized the words he just whispered, “how do you even know how to say that?”

“Oh, I uh, learned it for you,” he stuttered sheepishly, his hand going to scratch the back of his head, “I wanted to be able to talk to you and the fans better so I’ve been learning it on the side” he explained, a slightly awkward silence falling upon both of you as you sat down at the table, thanking the hostess as she handed you the menus.

The silence was quickly broken when Jeno started asking you about the different dishes, his mind overloaded with the foreign language, and all the different options. You tried your best to explain them to him, though he ultimately ended up just letting you choose his food for him, trusting your judgment more than his at this point.

Lunch with Jeno consisted of him being amazed by the food and cutely repeating phrases you were teaching him and you taking pictures and videos of him, wanting to save this moment into your memories.

Once both of your stomachs were full and you had fought with Jeno over who’d be paying the bill, Jeno won, of course, you took a breath of fresh air as you walked out of the restaurant, reaching your arms up over your head while yawning as you felt the beginning of a food coma start to take form.

You made Jeno call the staff member to pick you up and take you to another location you thought Jeno would like as you skipped down the road to one of your favorite parks. He ended the call after he sent the address of the park and ran to catch up with you. You heard him coming so you kept skipping along until he got closer and suddenly stopped, essentially brake checking him and cracking up as he slammed into you, nearly knocking both of you to the floor.

As you grab onto him to stop him from actually falling face-first into the floor, you interlocked your fingers with his and pulled him over to the playground you used to hang out at with your friends all throughout elementary and middle school. It stopped before high school though because this was also where you had your first heartbreak the summer before your freshman year.

One humid summer night, you were here with your crush and you had finally worked up the guts to ask them out thanks to the confidence of starting a new chapter of your life. You were undeniably broken when they rejected you and walked away without even bothering to tell you why. You sat on the swing set, allowing your tears to fall in silence.

You tell this story to Jeno as you sit at that same swing set, his strong arms gently pushing you forward every so often. “How about I make this place a happier memory for you?” he suggests, moving to stand in front of you, his hands grabbing the chains of the swing to stop your momentum.

You let confusion overtake your face as your feet settle on the dirt beneath the swings, fully stopping your movement and looking up at Jeno. “Y/n, I just want you to know how utterly thankful I am to have met you,” he began, making sure to hold eye contact with you, “you’ve brought so much joy and happiness to me without even knowing it and i’m glad to be your best friend. I would’ve never thought that we’d become so close due to our backgrounds but that’s what makes our friendship so special.” He pauses, trying to carefully piece together his next sentence. “I know I told you that I have feelings for you, but even if I can only stay by your side as a friend, I’m more than happy to do just that as long as you are happy-”

You abruptly stand up, cutting him off midsentence as you let your hands go to his which were frozen in place from where he was previously anxiously playing with the hem of his shirt. “Jeno, I’d like to give us a chance.” His eyes widened as he looked at you, not believing what he was hearing. “I’d like to give us a chance if it’s okay with you” you confess as Jeno smiles at you before pulling you into his embrace.

You hug him back, letting yourself get lost in his scent, your head resting on his shoulder. “Does this mean I’m your girlfriend now?” you ask, giggling into his chest.

You lean back slightly to see him nod as he said “Y/n, the girlfriend to the one and only Lee Jeno”, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. He still held onto you, not even bothering to pull away when he pulls his phone out of his pocket to answer a call from the staff member who’d be picking you up.

Once he ends the call, he kept his phone out to check the time and you felt all giddy when you see that his wallpaper is a picture from the concert of him and Soojin holding you up as if you were Simba, your laughter caught and preserved in time. “You know, Jeno, one day I’m gonna be able to hold you up like that” you muse.

“Mmm, I wouldn’t set your hopes too high” he teases. You were about to hit him but he took off running towards the company van.

You chase after him yelling “Lee Jeno, this isn’t how you treat your girlfriend!”

He only laughs as he shouts back, “best friend first, girlfriend second” causing you to roll your eyes as you continue to run after him.

A/N - this is inspired by a dream i had two months ago so it’s not really the best storyline lmao but let me know what you guys think. character inspo drawn from @t-aeycng​ as Soojin because she is truly a wonderful person and you should definitely check out her work as well

@nct-writers​

[whumpywhumper]

Realization

TW: Medical Whump, Depiction of Hospitalized Whumpee, Aftermath of Captivity, Grief/Mourning

Tagging: @misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi  @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites @unsure-but-alive-752 @jeverest00 @texdoeshalo @fanmanga1357-blog

@0idril0​ @rosesareviolentlyread​ @walkingchemicalfire​ I’m not lying when I say I wouldn’t write without these three, thank you for all your support and enthusiasm. 

Follows directly after: Consequences    Masterpost

V***V 

“What?”

Clint felt an unhealthy sinking sensation in his gut at Kincaid’s stricken expression. A wild, cold fear burst to life as the two law enforcement officers raised placating hands toward him. His wolf stood to attention, instincts cataloguing each and every micro expression, the shifting of their scents to nervous and sorrowful.

They know something about Markus.

“Clint, I need you to stay calm, okay? We don’t know anything for sure yet.” Ben’s placating tone did very little to soothe him or his increasingly restless wolf.

He could feel the growl building in his chest, the subvocal rumble trapped against the increasing beat of his heart. Placing his hands flat on the table, Clint suppressed the urge to stand and loom over the two other men, not wanting to ruin the relationship he’d been building over the last day.

“What don’t you know for sure yet?” The question came out dangerous and cutting, the wolf unable to completely mask the fear fueled rage that was brewing.

Kincaid swallowed heavily, easing himself away from the table and the predator on the other side. In a move too natural to be anything other than habit, his hand went to his waist where his side arm was located. “Clint, I need you to take a breath before we discuss this, okay? We’ll give you all the information you want, but none of us want an uncontrolled were’ in the hospital, right?”

Belatedly, Clint realized his eyes had flashed to his wolf’s golden yellow, the unnatural color sending primal signals of danger to the two officers. Licking his lips, Clint also felt the sharp points of his incisors, the lengthening bone telling him he was much closer to shifting than he wanted to be.

Hissing air through his teeth, Clint closed his eyes and wrestled back control. “You’re right, you’re right,” he said, letting the air out in a controlled exhale. He forced himself to lean back into his chair, trying to trick his body into relaxing with the casual posture.

Ben let out a shaky breath of his own at the gesture. “Thank you, Clint.”  He exchanged a look with Kincaid, the witch taking his hand off of his weapon and nodding slightly for the other man to explain. “I told you earlier about the John Doe, right?”

Nodding stiffly in acknowledgement, Clint felt a black bauble of refusal form in the back of his mind. No, no, don’t say—

“Clint, he looks an awful lot like the guy in your photo.”

Denial rested heavily on his tongue, and Clint’s head twitched on a negative shake. His mouth moved without input from him, a tinny echo reverberating in his ears. “Which guy?”

Clarification. One of the first rules of investigation. Make sure you’re talking about the same thing.

Ben took a deep breath as he slid the phone over, tapping the screen to make the photo appear again. His finger pointed directly at Markus’s face.

Clint’s sharp exhale sounded like he’d been punched. His eyes tripped over to Kincaid, question clear.

Corroboration. Don’t take one person’s word as fact.

The witch nodded, mouth tight with sympathy. “He’s pretty beat up right now, Clint, but I’ve spent some time with him the last few days. I would bet money that it’s the same guy.”

Correlation and Instinct. Don’t ignore your fucking gut.

The smell of magic, Kincaid’s hoodie reminding him of Markus. His gut telling him that the John Doe was important. His wolf howling as he left the nest behind.

It all added up to one thing.

Clint couldn’t suppress his savage snarl as he stood, chair skidding back into the wall with force as that black bauble burst into sharp shards of rage. He barely held back his shift as he demanded,  “Where is he?!”

Kincaid and Ben met his challenge, standing their ground as they stood to match his stance, hands going to their weapons.

“Clint, you need to calm down.”

“We’re not going to keep you from him, Clint: take a breath!”

He didn’t stick around for any more words, long strides taking him into the hallway and quickly outpacing the cursing police officers. He inhaled, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. Bleach and the overwhelming odor of sickness assaulted his nose, any recognizable scents so tangled that it was dizzying to try and parse through. Growling in frustration, Clint pulled around the corner and into the open hospital ward.

He didn’t even notice several of the nurses and visitors freezing as they caught sight of him. Instinctively, he took note of one of the uniformed police officers Holland had put on guard placing a hand on his weapon, posture settling in to move quickly if he proved violent. Clint’s wolf howled at the challenge, daring someone to get in between him and Markus.

Gaze flicking over the details, Clint catalogued that most of the rooms were open for observation, curtains drawn back and glass doors slid open so that the nurses had open access to go in and out. Only one of them was closed off, the curtains pulled to afford privacy.

Holland words floated in. The John Doe was the only ICU patient on this floor.

Still barely a moment, Clint surged forward, stalking toward his intended target. Kincaid’s shout to the uniformed officer to stand down from down the hallway was the buzz of a gnat, Ben’s yelling for Clint to calm down and wait for a minute not even registering to the pissed off wolf. He had to get to his friend.

The only thing that pulled him up short from forcing his way into the closed off room was the tiny nurse that barreled in front of him, arms spread wide as she faced him down.

“Just where the fuck do you think you’re going?!”

“Get out of my way!” Clint snarled at her, pretty sure his face wasn’t entirely human. The only thing holding him back from going through her was the fact that she was tiny and, enraged or not, he didn’t want to hurt her.  The woman barely flinched.

“No! Do you not see the signs on the door? This is a sterile room, and I’m not going to just let you waltz in there like this.” Her eyes blazed, furious and protective as a bear in front of her cub. “What business do you have in this room? Explain yourself!”

Kincaid and Ben finally caught up, almost tripping over themselves as they skidded up the fray.  

“Woah woah woah! Everybody calm down!” Kincaid grabbed onto his shoulders, pushing him out of the nurse’s face, using his own bulk to force distance between the near feral were and the breakable nurse.  

Clint transferred his snarl to Kincaid, the witch not backing down even as the wolf shrugged off his restraining hands. He knew he was being unreasonable, but god, if Markus was in there then he couldn’t stand the thought of being kept from him.

He started to pace, anxious energy burning him up inside. He kept one hand balled into a fist, the other buried in his hair as he fixed his gaze on the people between him and his goal. “I have to see if it’s him, I have to. You can’t keep me away from him.”

Ben held up his hands, trying to regain control of the situation, his affable demeanor imbuing the air with calm. “Nobody is keeping you from him, Clint, let’s just all take a deep breath.”

Clint tried to take a deep breath, but it came in as a barbed gasp for air, his wolf absolutely frothing with the desire to break the door down and get to his friend. He could feel his incisors elongating and subtracting with the internal struggle of keeping even a modicum of control.

The nurse sent a cautious look between him and Ben, her stance never shifting from being firmly in front of the door. “I’m not letting you in this room until I know what’s going on and your relationship to my patient. He’s not going to be hurt or infected just because you’re pissed off.”

“He’s my friend,” Clint howled, the implication that he would hurt Markus making his heart splinter. “His name is Markus, he loves his friends, and he’s terrified of heights. He’s been missing for months, and he’s been alone, hurt, and scared, and I didn’t find him! Please, fuck, just let me see him.”

The words tumbled out of him in a mad rush, anguished and visceral, Clint practically sobbing out the last plea as he faced the nurse.  Her eyes had widened at his tirade, stance softening as his distress became evident. Both Ben and Kincaid came closer to him, preparing to catch or support him if he needed it.

“Okay, okay, Clint,” she said, nodding her head and approaching him with open hands. “You’re gonna get to see him, okay? Let’s just take a minute and calm down, alright?” She motioned at one of the orderlies who’d snuck up, prepared to restrain him if necessary, and he grabbed a chair so that they could force him to sit down.

Clint shuddered but didn’t fight, breaths coming in staccato bursts as he tried to get back his equilibrium. “Please just let me see him,” he repeated, eyes blinking rapidly to force away the yellow.

The nurse squatted in front of him, grabbing a hold of his forearms and catching his eye. “I’m going to let you see him, okay, Clint? You just need to calm down first. Take a deep breath and let it out.” She pulled in a breath, and he matched it, following her instructions as he calmed down. “Good, good job.”

It took him a few minutes longer than he would have liked to regain all of his calm, his hands coming up to cover his face as he finally let out all of the frenzy that had overcome him. “Fuck,” he cursed, “Fucking hell.”

“You can say that again, buddy,” Kincaid huffed, patting him on the shoulder.

“You ready to continue the conversation now, Clint?” Ben asked. Clint nodded, rubbing his hand over his beard before meeting Ben’s kind gaze. “Okay, like I was saying before, we don’t know for sure that it’s him, right? But for you to go in and check, you’re gonna have to get decked out in a mask and gown. You remember what David said, right? He’s not doing well so even if it’s him or isn’t him, you’re gonna have to control yourself and be calm.”

Clint swallowed heavily, taking another deep breath as he climbed to his feet. “Yeah, yeah I got it, Ben. I can do this.”

The nurse, Catrina from her name tag, stepped in front of him, hand resting firmly on his bicep. “Clint, I need you to look at me and listen, okay?” She didn’t continue until his gaze locked with hers. “I need you to be prepared for what you’re going to see in there. From what it sounds like, you’ve already talked to Dr. Decker, right?”

Clint nodded, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically as he shifted from foot to foot. “I didn’t know it was Markus, would’ve asked more questions if I’d known. Fuck.”

Catrina took his cursing in stride, pulling his attention back to her. “I’m gonna take that to mean that you don’t really know what you’re gonna find when you go in there alright?” She paused to let his brain catch up, looking for the understanding in his eyes. “Clint, he is not going to look like himself at the moment, okay? His face is pretty bruised, and he’s heavily sedated so he’s not going to be responsive at all.

“I need you to understand this next part crystal clear, okay? You can’t touch anything. He’s got a tube down his throat, and a machine is breathing for him. He’s got several other drains and tubes that are under the blankets, but they’re all doing important jobs. I don’t care if they look painful or uncomfortable, don’t mess with them. If you have a concern about the equipment, come to me first. Do you understand?”

Clint nodded, hands raising in surrender. “Hands to myself, I got it.”

“Okay, I’m here if you need anything or need to ask any questions.” She handed him gloves, mask and a gown with a tight but sympathetic smile. She was donning her own gear with him, clearly not going to let him be alone with her patient until he could prove himself. He took a settling breath and struggled into the equipment with unsteady hands.

Catrina opened the room up for him, and Clint’s senses were immediately assaulted on all sides. His nose was struck by the sour, muggy odor of iodine, stress, and pain. The beep, hiss, and whirr of multiple pumps drilling into his ears alongside the obnoxious hiss of a suction mechanism and oxygen through a hose that only his sensitive ears ever seemed bothered by.

He stumbled forward as Catrina pulled the curtain back slightly to allow him fully into the room, drawn forward by the inescapable need to see if this was his friend or not. Almost immediately, Clint’s wolf started howling in his head, knowing even before he did that he’d found his lost packmate.

It took him a moment for Clint himself to catch up, to realize what he was staring at as he came to a halt at the foot of the bed, claws digging into the meat of his hands.

Markus.

Tubes and wires snaked across the bed. Hesitating, swallowing back the animal whine in the back of his throat, Clint put a hand on the lump he assumed was a foot. The blanket dimpled under his hand from where warm air was being pumped under the blankets, and he felt the rhythmic hiss thunk of compression devices around Markus’s lower legs.

He took a steadying breath through his nose, eyes burning as he catalogued the machines and devices he saw. He finally came to the head of the bed and flinched.

The bed was half sat up, his friend swathed in blankets, a folded towel protecting his eyes from the light. But there was a familiar black tuft of hair, and pale skin under a mask of multicolored bruises. It was all there, barely visible under a plastic contraption holding a tube in place.

He could hear bubbling over the sound of the machines and braced himself. He knew that sound, it wasn’t a good sound. Swallowing hard, Clint shuffled around the bed, careful of his feet. Fuck, chest tube.

He’d listened when David had outlined the John Doe’s condition, the impersonal words laying out all of the harsh, gritty details necessary for law enforcement and other medical personnel to get a complete picture of what was going on with a victim. He’d pictured in his mind the reactions of friends and family once they’d found out what their loved one had been subjected to. Had even pitied the poor fucker who’d gone through so much only to be faced with the potential of never living free again.

He’d never imagined this.

Inching up the side of the bed, he gently pulled the towel away from the other man’s eyes, taking a closer look at the face hidden under all of the medical equipment.

A wounded noise broke free of his chest when he compared everything he knew about his friend with the face on the bed.

“Fuck.”

Clint heard his voice like it was someone else’s, a pitiful broken syllable that held every tear he’d wanted to shed since Markus had gone missing.  

“God. Fuck.” His eyes were burning, and he couldn’t look away from his friend.

He wanted to throw his head back and release the mournful howl that was building up in his throat, give a voice to the agony churning in his chest, the horror of the fact that this. . . this was the result of his failure. Instead, he bent his head and put his forehead against his friend’s, blinking away the tears as they filled his eyes.

“Markus,” he sobbed, “Oh my god, Markus, no . . . “

~

Holland was the one that came to collect him.

Clint didn’t know how long it’d been since he’d come in to see Markus, he hadn't been paying attention to Catrina moving around the room, his sensitive ears dismissing the shared whispers outside the door. All of his attention had been on Markus. He knew it hadn’t been long enough since he stopped crying for his eyes to be anything but bloodshot as he met Holland’s sympathetic gaze.

The older man looked ridiculous in the yellow gown and blue face mask, the worry lines in his forehead thrown into harsh relief in the fluorescent lighting. His hands were gentle though as he threw his arm around Clint’s shoulders, other hand taking a hold of his forearm to pull him carefully away from his friend.

“C’mon, Clint,” he murmured, normally gruff voice so soft with understanding that it almost set him off again.

Clint stumbled after Holland like a newborn colt, legs uncoordinated jelly as followed the other man’s guidance. He was barely aware of the door sliding closed behind him before he was ripping away the gloves, mask, and gown, needing the scent of his friend’s pain off.

Distantly, he registered that he was shaking, and pressed his palms together, bringing his joined hands to his face.

He couldn’t even think. His mind was blank. Heart numb.

He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, whirling around with a yellow eyed snarl. Holland was there, his pressed lips together, Ben and Kincaid flanking him, all three of their concern clear. Clint opened his mouth, only to find that his words had deserted him.

He wasn’t the silent type. But this? It was beyond him. They had to see the truth in his red rimmed eyes, but they had a job to do now. They were no longer new colleagues working a case with a consultant. They were cops speaking with a victim’s family member, and they had to be certain.

“Clint, is that Markus?”

He nodded, breath leaving him in a harsh expiration, feeling suddenly dizzy. “Shit,” he gasped, grabbing a hold of his knees.

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get you sitting down somewhere. Kincaid, can you ask David to meet us in the conference room?” Holland gathered Clint up by the shoulders, trying to steer him down the hallway.

“No-wait—I can’t,” Clint’s words went in one ear and out the other, the older man bulldozing over his objections.

“He’s not going anywhere, Clint. He’s in the best hands he can be in now, right?”

Numbly, Clint nodded, running a hand through his hair. When they got to the conference room, he collapsed into the chair he had vacated earlier and looked at the mountain of evidence and paperwork that they’d collected, swallowing back bile when he realized the horrible things he’s been evaluating for the case had probably been done to his friend. It made it real in a way that cases usually weren’t for him.

Holland leaned on the desk beside him, reminiscent of their talk the other night, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Think you can answer some questions for me?”

Not trusting his voice, he nodded again.  “Yeah. . . “ he breathed.

“He’s your friend, and we’re going to give you any information that you want, but does he have any next of kin? Someone with the authority to make medical decisions?”

“He doesn’t talk to his family, closest he has to a sister is Illyn, but, uh,” he rubbed under his eye, “they never changed their medical proxies from Evan when they moved.”

Ben sat down across from him, faint lines standing out at the corners of his concerned eyes. “Is this the same guy from the phone earlier?”

Clint nodded, his stomach sinking. “I gotta call him again. Fuck. . . I gotta call Illyn.”

Holland squeezed his shoulder, exchanging a look with Ben, who nodded. “Kincaid should be here with David soon. Why don’t you get Evan on the phone first? David can answer your questions and you two can make a plan.”  

Clint reached for his pocket and froze when it was empty, looking around at the table.

“Oh, sorry,” Ben murmured, pulling Clint’s phone out and sliding it over. The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile, “I still had it from earlier.”

His hands shook as he took the phone back, and he swallowed heavily as the screen lit up. The picture from earlier stared up at him. Markus was smiling and happy. Completely different from the still, almost lifeless, figure he’d just left.

“We’ll give you a minute,” Holland said, giving him a firm pat as he motioned Ben to the door.

“Thanks guys.” He sucked in a deep breath and clicked on his contacts. Rubbing a hand over his face, he waited for the call to connect.

How the fuck do I break this to him? What do I even tell him?

“Hello?” The sound of barking accompanied his friend’s voice, and it was such a jolt of normalcy that it took his breath away.

“Ev’. . .”

“Clint? I haven’t heard anything from Deanna yet, it’s only been like an hour, right?”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a hell of an hour.” His chuckle was almost hysterical, and he could hear Evan pause. Could practically see the concerned look on his face.

Carefully, his friend responded. “Clint, if this guy already passed then there was nothing you could have done.”

“No, no,” he said, a little too firmly, “he hasn’t passed. Um . . . “ his voice trembled, and he took a small breath, trying to brace himself.

“Clint?” Evan’s voice was filled with apprehension, “What’s going on?”

“It’s Markus.”

“What? You mean you found what happened to him?”

Clint balked at answering, looking up at the ceiling with burning eyes.

“Clint,” Evan’s voice was hard as diamonds, “did you find the bastard that killed our friend?”

“He’s not dead, Ev’,” he answered, words slipping free like a clot, “He’s the John Doe.”