#i’ve been kinda lacking on watching all of the povs that i usually do

[ashironie]

i was on youtube checking my notifications and i saw on my subscriptions feed that mumbo had the little red dot so i gasped very loudly and very excited, because that meant mumbo posted and i just hadn’t noticed, since i always find out mumbo posted by my subscriptions feed

last video i found out via notification.

the subscriptions feed only updates when you look at it, not when you have looked at the video in question.

the disappointment was immense.

[make-me-imagine]

Submission by @thebookbakery; this is their first published fic, so I hope you guys enjoy it, and let them know what you think!

—–

Bruce Banner (MCU) x Female!Reader (sorry…)

Warnings: Reader with mental illness, so much fluff, code green (but dw, Hulk is a softie)

Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney

Fic Written by: @thebookbakery 

Go check out their new fic blog @trashywritestrash !!!

—–

Bruce’s POV

  I shove my head in my hands, closing my eyes in a desperate attempt to calm my mind; even though I know it’s pointless. My thoughts have been bouncing around all day, leaving me unable to focus on any task for longer than thirty seconds. Even as they run circles in my head, my thoughts keep making their way back to her.

  Y/N has been avoiding me for the past four days. But, to be fair, it’s not only me that she’s been avoiding. Wanda and Bucky noticed it too, but when I asked, they told me to let her come back in her own time. I understand why they would say that; but it’s getting increasingly difficult to hold myself back from knocking on her bedroom door. I’ve never been the type to be that direct- especially when it comes to women- but these past couple of days have been driving me to my wits end. I thought I was just worried, like any good friend would… But that’s not it. Tony’s daily ritual of annoying me while I try to work made me realize that I’m not worried I did something wrong.

  I miss her.

  Normally, she would come into the lab with enough coffee to kill a horse and sit with us. She would occasionally help me with an equation or grab Tony some tool he needed- but Y/N mainly stayed to keep us company. She’d join in on jokes and keep us from losing our minds to an unfinished project or a lack of sleep. I miss having her sit on an empty desk and read my screen over my shoulder. I miss seeing the sparkle in her eyes when we’d explain what we’re planning next. What I miss most is simply hearing her laugh at something I said. It’s nice. Knowing that Y/N enjoys my company. Or, at least, she did.

  I have no idea what time it is, but it must be late. The compound is dead silent, and it’s pitch black outside. Suddenly, I can feel the other guy clawing at my brain, trying to take control. My head feels as if it’s splitting open, my eyes watering as a searing pain shoots from my temples outwards. The reflection of my face on the desk shows green veins appearing.

Oh no.

Y/N’s POV

  I feel nothing but the cool water lapping at my ankles. My mind has been almost blank for the past week. This isn’t new, it’s basically a routine by now. Every once in a while, my head will empty, save for a few thoughts here and there. I won’t feel emotions, and when I do, they are so watered-down that I wonder if they’re real or if it’s just a reflex I’ve picked up after faking it for so long. When I get like this, I hide. I stay in my room, only leaving when necessary. I speak in short sentences, if at all. They don’t need to see me like this. I’m not fun, I don’t speak up, I sit on the couch and zone-out the whole time. Words will go in one ear and out the other, leaving only a small trace behind. I don’t want this version of me to be all they can see.

  So here I sit with my feet in the pool at three in the morning because I can’t fall asleep. The pool is my usual choice on these nights. If anyone has a nightmare, they’ll go to the kitchen or the common room. No one comes out here. Especially not at night.

  I take steady breaths, keeping myself calm. My eyes drift shut as tears slip out and land on my pajama bottoms. I lift my hand to cover my mouth as I sniffle, not wanting to make noise. The worst part of this is that I don’t have a reason for crying. I just feel like I need to get it out.

  As I wipe my tears away, I hear movement behind me to my left and quickly turn. Years of spy training and paranoia helps in the reaction time department. My eyes widen.

  “Bruce?” Loud footsteps approach and I realize that isn’t Bruce. The large green figure steps closer, dropping onto the ground beside me, “What are you doing out?”

  “Hulk heard pretty girl cry,” He mumbles, not wanting to be loud. Y/N wonders if he’s being quiet out of courtesy or fear.

  “I’m okay, big guy. But what about you? Are you okay? Did Stark do something stupid again?” He gives a small shake of his head.

  “Y/N cry.”

  My chest tightens slightly, “You… you came out just to check on me?” Hulk hums in agreeance, looking down into the clear blue water of the pool. “That’s sweet of you.”

  After a moment of silence, Hulk glances over at me. When our eyes meet, he looks back to the pool and gently slides in, careful not to splash. Although he went slowly, Hulk is so large that the water overflows and spills over the edges of the tile. It soaks my bottom, but I don’t care; it’s just water. I give him a smile as he steps in front of me, “What are you doing?” the depth of the pool makes him slightly shorter than me, causing me to look down the tiniest bit to see his face.

  “Pretty girl still sad,” he answers simply. I huff out a laugh.

  “Why do you call me that?”

  “Hulk think Y/N pretty,” Hulk looks down, like he’s nervous.

  I roll my eyes with a soft chuckle, “Well, you need to meet more people,” he looks back up at me.

  “Puny Banner think Y/N pretty too,” my eyes widen slightly.

  “Really?” I feel my face heat up, but I try to keep calm. I don’t want to get my hopes up. So, what if he thinks I’m pretty? That doesn’t automatically mean he thinks of me as anything more than a friend.

  “Yes,” I take a moment to collect my thoughts before Hulk asks, “Why pretty Y/N so sad?”

  After taking a deep breath, I explain, “Sometimes… my mind goes blank and I- I feel kind of empty?” Knowing he’s probably confused, I elaborate, “Do you remember that shell I showed you? It was small and pink- you called it fragile.”

  His eyes light up a bit as he nods, starting to get it, “Remember how I told you that a crab used to live inside of it, like a home?” Another nod, “Well… I kind of feel like a shell without a crab. It’s empty, and it just sits there until it’s useful again. When I feel like that, it’s sometimes hard for me to feel happy.” Hulk seems to get it but doesn’t say anything. Then, suddenly, he goes underwater. I watch curiously as he resurfaces, cheeks puffed out full of water. He looks up and puckers his lips, spurting water from his mouth like a roman fountain. And for the first time in the past week, I laugh. It’s quiet, subtle, but it’s real; and it feels good. Hulk sees and smiles when he’s done. Looking at him now, in this moment, it’s even harder for me to understand how people could be afraid of him. Hulk may look big and scary, but he’s a sweetheart.

  “Y/N happy?” I couldn’t stop my smile if I wanted to.

  “I am now.”

  He looks excited, “Hulk make Y/N happy?”

  “Yes, you do,” He smiles wide and steps forward, setting his head on your lap. He’s so precious. Carefully, I slide my fingers into his sopping hair, gently massaging his scalp. His eyes fall shut as he stays where he is. I’m completely soaked now, but I couldn’t care less- the incredible Hulk himself is snuggling me like a puppy and it’s adorable.

  I don’t know how much time passes like this. Eventually, Hulk pulls away with a frown, “Puny Banner want out.” I reach out to cup his cheek, causing him to lean into my touch with a content smile.

  “That’s okay, isn’t it? You can see me again soon.” I use both my hands to pull his face closer to mine, allowing me to place a small kiss on his forehead. He nods slowly.

  “Bye-bye pretty Y/N,” And with that, he begins shrinking. I move my hands under his arms so that Bruce doesn’t drown as soon as he wakes up. When he’s back to normal, he immediately shoots up and looks around frantically.

  “Bruce- it’s okay, you’re okay! I’m right here,” he calms down and leans his arms against the edge of the pool to hold himself up.

  “Oh my- Y/N! Are you okay? Are you hurt?!” He begins looking over me for any injuries.

  “No, no, I’m okay. He didn’t hurt anyone,” once he relaxes some, he places his head in his hands. Bruce didn’t move far after transforming, so he’s still close enough for you to comfortably place your fingers back into his hair.

  “Y/N… Are you okay?”

  I sigh, “Bruce, I promise you, Hulk did not hurt me,” he tenses slightly.

  “I wasn’t talking about him…” I get the message and remove my hand from his hair.

  “I’m sorry. I was playing with Hulk’s hair before, but I shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be okay with it too,” he looks confused. “You’re two different people with two different opinions. Just because he likes something, that doesn’t mean you like it too.”

  “Actually,” Bruce looks down in his attempt to hide a blush, “I, uh… I do kinda like it. It feels… It feels nice.” I smile softly and nod, continuing the motions I was using on Hulk, getting a very similar reaction.

  Bruce opens his eyes and looks up at me, not speaking until our eyes meet and are locked for an amount of time that is probably too long for ‘just friends’.

  “Are you afraid of him?” I shake my head no, “Why not?”

  I hold back my giggles, “Because you’re both big babies.”

  His eyes widen slightly with curiosity, “What did he say that would make you think that?” The laugh escapes before I can stop it.

  “Let’s see… He came out just because he heard me crying and wanted to check on me, then he called me pretty. After all that, he spit water out of his mouth like a fountain to cheer me up,” Bruce smiles softly, but it falls as he thinks on the words.

  “Wait… What did he call you?” He sounds nervous. I was hoping he’d overlook that, but I guess I’m not that lucky.

  “Hulk kept calling me ‘pretty girl’ or 'pretty Y/N’,” suddenly feeling shy, I continue, “He’s actually really sweet when you get to know him…” My voice trails off as I worry if I said too much. I know Bruce doesn’t like talking about Hulk, especially right after switching back. However, he only seems to blush at my words.

  “Did he- uh, did he say anything else?” Bruce is looking down at his hands, fidgeting nervously like a child who is afraid he’s going to be yelled at. As if the skies finally clear on a cloudy day, I get an idea as to why he is acting this way. Against my better judgement, I speak up.

  “He said that you do too… That you think I’m pretty, I mean!” I press my lips together tightly, trying to form a seal. Maybe if my lips fuse together, it’ll finally get me to shut my mouth before I make a fool of myself rather than after. Alas, it doesn’t work, “Hulk probably only said that to make me feel better though, so don’t worry.”

  Bruce tenses up at the mention of that. I open my mouth to apologize, but he beats me to it, “No, he didn’t. I- um… I do… think that you’re pretty…” His face flushes beet red and he refuses to meet my gaze. I slowly inch my hand closer to his until they are on top of each other. Carefully, he interlocks our fingers, obviously still scared that he might hurt me. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, causing him to look up.

  “Thank you.”

  We spend the next few minutes in total silence, staring at our joined hands and appreciate how calm this moment is. No missions, no aliens, no Loki, and most importantly- no Tony. I don’t think either of us could do this with him teasing us the whole time. Bruce moves his hand and, for a second, I’m afraid he’s going to pull away. Instead, he holds both of my hands in both of his, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles lovingly.

  “Y/N, would you… Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

  I quickly- probably too quickly- nod, trying to conceal my smile. After realizing how desperate I must look, I pull myself together, “I’d love to, Bruce.”

  His eyes shine in the moonlight as he smiles wide. Keeping his hands in mine, I pull them up to my face and plant gentle kisses on his knuckles. We just stay there, blushing and grinning like idiots as we bask in the comfort that comes with not being alone. No words are spoken, but they don’t need to be. I look into his eyes and I can feel the warmth and love radiating from him. And I will do everything in my power to show Bruce that I trust him and Hulk. That I am not afraid of him and never will be.

Tony’s POV

  “Did I just see that right?” asks Steve as he stares in disbelief at what we just witnessed.

  “Do we need to get you bifocals, grandpa? I knew you were old, but I didn’t think your eyesight was that questionable yet,” I quip as I slide my phone back into my pocket.

  F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted me as soon as the code green began. I woke Steve on my way to where the big guy was, but when I saw what was happening, I held Cap back. Y/N has a special effect on Hulk, we all know it. This only proves it. Steve scoffs at my comment, but I don’t care, it’s about damn time Bruce talks to her. Y/N is good for him, she makes him happy… They both deserve to be happy, to feel loved. If they can do that for each other, who are any of us to call it dangerous.

  Steve looks back at them through the sliding door, “What do we do now?”

  Bruce looks so happy. He’s never happy after going green. We can’t see Y/N’s face from this angle, but I can only guess how she must feel right now. For being a couple of Earth’s mightiest heroes who kick ass for a living, they seem content. Peaceful even.

  “We go back to sleep.”

[relaxxattack]

ayo! (wait this might be a bit of a jumpscare dishdks i apologize) i’m op of That Post and was wondering what your opinions were on the whole woobification thing? /gen

because it’s a Tiny Bit widespread within the dream apologists to sort of,, overdramatize stuff like l’manberg hurting him. like they’re not a 100% wrong but if you look at it subjectively you can see some sort of bias going into that sort of thing that makes the character’s mistreatment a bit more blatant and intentional which,, it really wasn’t? and there wasn’t That Much of it either. especially on twitter (tumblr is much better about it) people just jump to conclusions it seems and yeah. since you brought it up i was wondering if you wanted to write a bit about it from your perspective!

we’re kinda from different corners of the fandom but i still notice that once you are too attached to a character you start taking certain evidence and giving it more weight than it actually has. there’s a blurry line between “taking away a character’s humanity” and woobification and it’s extremely difficult to find a balance when said character shows pretty much nothing of his emotional life (e. g. putting up the intimidating villain act in front of only c!tommy, pretty much everything he does making rational sense with no emotional subtext) and a lot of the fandom instantly jumps to one side or the other while it’s like.

we don’t know by far enough to say “he’s traumatized” or “he isn’t traumatized” or “he was villainized and it hurt him” or “l’manberg didn’t affect him at all”

as a very analytical person people constantly jumping to conclusions grinds my gears, but that’s about it for my own view of the situation - sorry for the rambling.

in general i agree with you that both dehumanization and woobification is Bad and i really hope getting Actual Context sorts this out (e. g. him saying he was betrayed by his friends doesn’t mean it wasn’t partially his fault or that they were allowed to leave him, but it also shows that he did care about that happening. mentioning the cat doesn’t mean anything about what happened to c!tommy but it also shows that he did care about what happened to it. it’s just always interesting to get more information about the way he feels because he usually does a very good job at hiding it.) because man.

it’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, especially if you also are attached to the character and are expected to automatically agree with everything the people on “your side” say. it just ends up with everyone being mad and the character being mischaracterised overall.

oh wow hello! i didnt expect the op of the post to find me you’re right lol

and yes i agree! you seem to have a lot of very good thoughts tbh.

and by woobification, i mean exactly what you’ve already pointed out— the people who will say l’manberg purposely villainized dream, the people who will say wilbur faked his mental illness to manipulate dream, the people who are pretty much always talking about how badly dream was treated by people who were acting only fairly for themselves, usually.

for example people who act like dream was a perfect peacemaker before tommy showed up, or that tommy started most conflict. these are just actual lies that are told by c!dream himself to justify his abuse of tommy, and people fall for them incredibly easily because not a lot of people watched early dsmp and know that truthfully it was chaotic even then, and that dream was chaotic too. not to mention wilbur soot tried very hard to secede peacefully with l’manberg and dream jumped directly into war with no warning. and then people say he was forced into their war when, no, he started it.

theres also people who will say like, dream and sapnap for example are such good friends. i’m sure they cared for each other, but dream on multiple occasions has done horrible things to sapnap with no regard for his feelings (like leading fundy to sapnaps pets during the petwar, leading tommy to sapnaps pets during the other petwar and encouraging him to kill them, handing mars over to tommy to use as leverage against sapnap, etc). george he’s been less awful too but he certainly spoke over him and ignored his feelings enough that george felt hurt. he had places in his hall of attachments for beckerson and mars. george and sapnap were right to walk away from being treated like that.

there’s also what you just said here — “dream puts on a villain persona for tommy”— but honestly he acts like that around quite a few people (example: eret) and it’s usually when he’s revealing crucial info, which leads me and many others to believe that ‘persona’ is actually a more truthful version of him.

there’s the fact that he really isn’t safe for people to be around (or at least he wasn't before the prison) because he was planning to come up with ways to control every single person by stealing and threatening their attachments (some of which were not items but were living animals, or a real breathing person).

and then people will say dream was doing exile to enforce rules, or to keep the peace— when it’s very clear in canon it was a deliberate plan to get tommy on his own and into the prison. (from the way he was framing tommy for multiple crimes, and having sam set up the prison, and kidnapping tommy instead of correctly exiling him, all at the same time).

not even going into how he wants to kill and revive people for fun or make tommy immortal.

it’s just— ignoring all these actual facts and saying “oh he misses his friends, let’s get him some friends now” reminds me of like. when people would put flower crowns on pictures of serial killers. and then, there’s hardly anyone on the server who wasn’t subject to dream’s plans, so there’s absolutely no one i would be okay with him interacting with.

just remembered about the torture thing, and wow i still hate it so much. it’s someone’s sick revenge fantasy twisted into a way to get a manipulative villain sympathy, and it’s just gross to me on every account. i do think dream is traumatized-- just not by l’manberg, which was a conflict he started on his own terms. i would think l’manberg did affect him, because he was scared of losing control.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again— my ideal ending for dream would be for him to be sent far away from dsmp to an island full of therapy animals and super strong therapists who have never met him before. and for him to get a shit ton of therapy until he becomes a halfway normal person. and then eventually he could get integrated into society again; but a different one with new people. (although maybe dteam + bbh + puffy can visit him, they might still like him.)

none of the people on the server (who have all been affected by dream) should be burdened with befriending him or rehabilitating him— look how that turned out with sam! sam had a personal grudge towards dream and it ended with the poor dude being tortured every day; and sam himself falling into corruption and literally cutting off his boyfriends arm. like we can all see thats fucking awful right?

no one who was affected by dream should have to deal with him ever again. and contrary to popular belief, that includes a LOT more people then just tommy. dream isn’t just tommy’s antagonist, hes almost everybody’s.

the only person on the server who might also be able to stand to help dream is techno, and that’s from sheer lack of ability to give a shit. but techno is probably THE furthest thing from a good therapist there is lol, and dream needs better then that.

this kind of just ended up being a rant about my thoughts on c!dream, so im so sorry op. especially since it was probably negative for you. i hope you’re doing very well.

i guess in the end it’s true what you said— people will highlight or ignore things based on what characters they like, and it’s especially easy to do in this fandom, where half the content doesn’t even get watched and then we become a big echo chamber of half-truths.

considering dream has hurt so many of the characters i care about, i almost can’t understand how he could be someone’s favorite or comfort character— but he is nonetheless, and it would be unfair of me to be rude about that.

essentially it just bothers me to see someone who was a perpetrator of accurately portrayed abuse and manipulation (using both those words in their actual definitions, not just as random buzzwords lol) being given the flower crown edit effect. especially since he’s hurt the characters i care about a lot.

ANYWAY all of that being said (this got LONG im so sorry op) i am so so excited to get dream’s pov, because although i disagree with his actions strongly i actually find dream’s character very interesting and cool, and watching his POV is going to insanely fun. i cannot wait to see what theories get confirmed or denied

ALSO incase it wasn’t clear this is all /nm at you! you seem lovely and smart, and neither of us can help what characters we get attached to :]

[crystal-heart-saga]

Crystal Heart Chapter Four - HYDRA Attack

Tony's POV

Weeks passed, Fury and Hill finally got their heads out of their asses and decided that the safest place for Melanie once she left the hospital was Avengers Tower. (Which Steve and I could have told them the day after we rescued the kid)

The day we brought Melanie home, she followed Steve around like a lost puppy, afraid of being alone. Though over the weeks that followed, as she slowly got to know the rest of the Avengers, her confidence grew.

Then One night, she wandered down to my workshop.

Steve was on a solo mission, Peter was on Patrol and I was working. I had`nt slept for two days and was onto my sixth cup of coffee for the night when the door to my workshop opened.

"Pete, that you Underoos?" I asked, Peter often came to the workshop when he finished patrol.

"Ummm, It's me Mr. Stark," Said a voice that was Obviously not Peter.

I turned around from the workbench and Melanie stood in the doorway. looking terrified.

"What's wrong Mel?" I asked, gesturing that it was okay for her to come in.

"I... I had a bad dream."

I reached for a rag and wiped the grease off my hands before walking over and putting my arm around the girl, "You wanna talk about it?"

"But..." she started, but I cut her off, "I know what a bad dream is Mel. I've had a few myself." I said, "You can tell me. It's ok.

She took a deep breath, "It was about... HYDRA...They... they turned me... turned me into some kinda...Puppet... and I... I hurt Steve..." She burst into tears and wrapped her arms around my neck, "Mr. Stark, I hurt him so bad... and you... didn't want me anymore... "

"Oh mellie... That's not gonna happen. I promise. I will always want you around." I said, pulling her into a hug.

"But I..." she broke down into tears again, "But I was so scared... I don't wanna go back... I was so scared..."

"It's ok Mel. It's gonna be ok." I said, "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

I pulled the girl close to my side and walked her back to her room, tucking her back into her bed.

"I'm Sorry Mr. Stark," Melanie whimpered as I adjusted the blanket over her.

"What for?" I asked.

"For coming down to the workshop. I know You were busy and I... couldn't even..." Melanie was crying again, she rolled over, facing away from me as if ashamed by her tears.

"Come on Mel, It's ok, It's not your fault." I soothed, "You know that, right?

"I-I know." Melanie sniffled.

"You can come down to the workshop anytime, day or night." I said, "I'm always gonna be here for you. We all will."

Melanie sniffed again. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Melanie rolled back over, looking at me with tears in her eyes. "Thank you Mr. Stark." she said, "For everything."

"You're welcome Mellie."

"Will... will you stay for a bit? Till I fall asleep?"

"Sure," I said, more than a little surprised at the request. I settled in the chair beside Melanie's bed. My Project could wait a while. "Get some sleep kiddo, I'll keep you safe."

I must have dozed off at one point because the next thing I knew, it was the next morning and Peter was nudging me awake. After I rushed my Spider-ling to school, I returned to my project, only to find Melanie waiting for me in the workshop. She was sitting in what Steve called his "Sketching corner," an armchair and coffee table with pencils, a pile of loose drawing paper and a sketchbook.

"What's going on Mel?" I asked.

"Ummm, I wanted to thank you, for last night," Melanie said, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face.

"You`re welcome kid, I know how real those nightmares can feel," I replied.

suddenly, Melanie's heterochromatic eyes went as wide as saucers, "Mr Stark, Steve needs help."

"Miss Peters is correct sir," JARVIS confirmed, "Captain Rogers is upstairs, he appears to be ill."

We both grimaced at the news, "We should hurry," I said, grabbing Melanie by the hand and leading her upstairs. Cursing under my breath the whole way. Steve never gets sick. Ever. Something was seriously wrong.

My fears were confirmed when we got to the penthouse and found Steve throwing up into the toilet; he looked terrible. His blond hair was soaked in sweat, practically plastered to his forehead, and his big blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle.

"Steve, Steve," I said, kneeling beside him "You look awful sweetheart."

"Tony, is Melanie okay?" Steve asked, breathing heavily.

"She's fine, she and i've been down in the workshop," I replied. combing my fingers through his damp hair.

"they`re.... coming for... her, you have... to protect her.."

"And leave you here bringing your guts up? No way."

"I`ll Be fine, this is the serum, it's getting the poison out of my system."

"Poison?" I asked, alarmed.

"I`ll explain later, just keep her safe. Please Tony,"

"I promise, I will." I kissed his pale cheek before getting to my feet and leaving to find Melanie. she was waiting just outside.

"Melanie, we need to talk," I said.

She nodded, her Heterochromatic eyes full of fear and concern.

I took her by the hand and led her into the Laundry, "Do you remember that first day at the hospital? Where Peter hid you when HYDRA agents came looking for you?"

Melanie nodded, "In the Bathtub," she replied.

"Well today`s a little bit different," I said.

Melanie seemed to understand what i was implying and clambered into the Laundry basket. I quickly arranged the clothes so she was concealed from the outside and placed a blanket on top of her.

"one of us`ll come and get you when it`s safe `kay?"

Melanie made a little sound of acknowledgement.

The basket was beside the dryer, so I turned on a load. Figuring that the noise would conceal Melanie`s breathing and keep her warm at the same time.

When i closed the lid to the basket, Goose positioned herself on top of it.

"Goose, Stay. Protect her," I instructed

"Meow," Said goose.

By the time I`d called my suit, Steve was staggering into the living room.

"Melanie?" he asked.

"Safe, Goose`s on guard duty" I replied, "You sure you`re okay?"

Steve took two steps towards me and nearly fell over in a heap. I caught him and eased him onto the ground, (thanks to the Armour, i never would have been strong enough otherwise)

"m'ok." Steve said "I lost my focus for a moment, that's all." He stared at up at me, blue eyes glassy.

"Yeah no, You're far from ok." I replied, "You need to sit this one out."

"Can't.." Steve protested, "I promised Mel... I'd Protect.. her."

"That's a promise we all made," I reminded, but before I could continue, A Bomb broke through the Skylight, Flooding the room with Gas.

My Helmet closed immediately, and I sent out the Avengers Assemble code before looking down at Steve. His super-immunity was busy fighting whatever these Lunatics had poisoned him with, thereby lowering his resistance to the gas.

"Come on Capsicle, Stay with me," I said as I started to drag him out of the Gas cloud. When we retreated to the hall, My fiancé had passed out, but he was still breathing.

Before i knew it, The rest of the Team had gathered around us.

"F***! What happened?" Natasha asked.

"Some Lunatic poisoned him," I replied, "And then HYDRA tossed a gas bomb through the skylight. Bucky, can you get him down to Medbay?" I asked.

Bucky nodded, and I watched as he grabbed Steve and supported him. About a year ago, I wouldn't have trusted my fiancé`s best friend as far as I could throw him. But after he saved Peter's life from A Vengeful Green Goblin. It forced me to admit that maybe i was wrong.

"Where`s Melanie?" Clint signed as Bucky disappeared down the fire escape.

L-a-u-n-d-r-y B-a-s-k-e-t G-o-o-s-e I signed back.

Clint Saluted and ran off.

As I charged my repulsers, The memory of last night, and Melanie's distraught, terrified face flashed before my eyes. taking a deep breath, I prepared for the battle ahead. Those Asses were not going to take My girl away.

[douxspider]

— 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. (3)

‘ARVIN RUSSELL x READER INSERT’

( spoilers for “the devil all the time” ) — Waking up at Reader's place, we finally get a glimpse at Arvin's POV. Though, while their relationship seems to be moving forward, it seems like the whole 'running away into the sunset' deal only happens in fiction.

+ this is the third part to peachy keen! (ao3 link)

warnings: angst, almost smutty but nothing explicit is written, mentions of murder, preston teagardin lmao, rated mature word count: 4,244 published: 9/24/20 ao3 link — part 1, 2

— — • — — 

When Arvin woke up leaned against you, he felt his face turn into a beet shade of red. Slowly parting from your leaning form on the couch, he rubbed his eye, unaware that he had an actual decent rest in such a cramped position. He hardly ever felt comfortable enough to sleep in his own bed. Usually, attempts at sleep were mostly met with staring at the ceiling blankly, recalling haunting memories on repeat in his head.

His thoughts were blank when he fell asleep. Arvin was met with nothing but the television’s staticy audio and the sound of your quiet breathing.

He looked over to take in your features— what amazing features, he thought— and found his hand carefully creeping to the side of your face to brush the knuckle of a finger near your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it lovingly.

Arvin loved you.

He knew he shouldn’t— he knew he had no idea what love was— but within the few months spent together, Arvin knew he liked you too much to be calling it ‘liking’ and ‘platonic’.

That one stormy evening alongside memories of beating the hell out of Lenora’s bullies, blood and bruising splattering his knuckles like paint, he needed a place to clear his head. He needed a place that was quiet in every way shape and form. Arvin had been driving with a foggy haze before his eyes had locked onto McCann Boys. Arvin wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t anything, he just needed to sit somewhere other than a damn car where he could swerve into a building and die.

When he stepped in, the immediate smell of sweetness overloaded his senses, and he found himself hesitantly sitting down in a booth, wringing the cloth against his knuckles in a patterned fashion.

Then you approached.

And by God, had you been the prettiest sight to see. If it were on any other day, Arvin would’ve been sure to come up with better words than asking if he had to buy anything.

That’s not how you talk to a pretty face, his father would scold in his head, y’wanna smile at ‘er, and make her feel all sorts of butterflies. Y’gotta make her feel like the only girl in the world, son.

Arvin often had his father’s coaching in his head when it came to things like this. Though, it didn’t really make sense most of the time. His father didn’t live long enough to meet Arvin in his ‘girl phase’. This was more than a phase, he promised himself, looking at your resting form. And my, had the universe been so forgiving of him, making sunlight drawing from blinds rest on your features, highlighting your skin and making you look like a pure, unadulterated angel.

He wanted you.

Arvin bit his bottom lip. He wanted you so bad. He wanted to keep you forever. He wanted to take you away from this lowly place in Ohio and bring you somewhere nice, somewhere with beaches and sunshine, away from disgusting preachers, dried blood and judgmental eyes.

Realizing the first time you went to that church, Arvin could see the way that no-good priest looked at you. He knew what that man did to Lenora. He knew everything. Arvin got up from the couch, his fists turning stark white as he paced towards the apartment door, red building at the sides of his eyes. Arvin had to protect all the girls in town. He had to. For Lenora, for Y/N. He had to go and—

“Arvin?”

Hearing a voice that reminded him of bells, Arvin turned around, seeing you slowly rise up from the couch and looking over to make contact with him. “Where are you going?”

Your sleepy tone was so amiable. Your eyes were so dazed, blinking as you gave a small sniffle, scratching at your shoulder.

“I was…” Arvin trailed off before coming back towards you, kneeling in front of the couch and giving a smile as he took your hand. “I was gonna get you breakfast. As a thank you.” A lie, but it was fine. He was planning on watching the priest. Though, breakfast didn’t sound too bad. Time with you was worth more than anything else. You were all he had, next to his grandmother and uncle.

You smiled. He melted a little inside.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” you murmured as you clutched onto his hand. Your eyes were studious, flitting around his body, and he suddenly felt small. “Are you okay? I’m sorry about the sleeping stuff… if your neck was stiff, I mean, I’d feel bad—”

“Y/N,” Arvin spoke sternly, “that was the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your eyes turned round, diluting slightly once they met the sunlight.

Arvin could hear his father’s berating tone in the back of his head. Say it. Be a man. He looked at the ground, holding onto your hand for dear life, uneasily balancing his weight on his knee. Though, Arvin couldn’t say anything. Nothing was coming out. There you were, waiting so patiently, being so patient with him, and he was at a lack for words.

Words wouldn’t fix this. Only action. Action would fix everything, Arvin knew this. He was taught this. He was always better physically expressing his thoughts and feelings than vocally or emotionally.

Releasing one of his hands from yours, he curved one underneath your palm and pulled your soft, untouched knuckles against his lips, giving a kiss. These knuckles have never hurt a soul. This being had never hurt anyone. Arvin would make sure it would stay that way.

He glanced upwards, his cap altering his view slightly, and he could make out the way your cheeks turned a different shade, inviting lips gaping slightly.

Smiling against your skin, Arvin moved his free hand to the top of yours and gazed at you. To his surprise, he watched as your thumb rolled circles against his own. You were smiling, and it was a smile to take in. Oh, it was.

“You’re sweet, Arvin,” you giggled so beautifully and he wanted to listen to his name coming out of your mouth on repeat, “...I kinda want donuts.”

Arvin couldn’t help but give a laugh under his breath at the change of moods. He stood up, continuously holding your hand as he refused to let it go, and said, “Let’s get donuts, then.”

—

He was angry. He was a pot boiling. Staring at Preston from afar, he watched from his car as the man interacted with a female shopowner who was fresh out of highschool. Arvin’s leg bounced within his vehicle, the sun setting, and he continued to survey.

Preston would interact with girls other than his wife. He would bring girls into his car and do unspeakable, unlawful things with them, then proceed to go back to the place he calls home and force himself onto his wife.

Arvin clutched onto the wheel.

While Preston was a horrible man who deserved the worst punishment from all graces of any lord, he found himself growing frustrated. Not even just about Lenora or all the sweet innocence the man took, Arvin found himself growing frustrated at his own damn self.

He would think about Y/N.

No, not doing such acts as those forcefully, imagining the same power dynamic, he would never. He meant it when he said he didn’t hurt girls. Arvin despised the man. He despised him and he wanted him gone. He wanted that man to suffer for what he did to his sister. Though, at points, he would drive up to your apartment and stare at the window that belonged to you. He would lick his chapped lips and his hand would shake as it reached the door handle. Then, Arvin would grow a clear sense of mind, he would receive clarity, and he would drive to the opposite side of town just to avoid even thinking about touching you in such a passionate way.

After a few days, Arvin decided.

He’d have to leave you behind.

He loved you, but he also loved Lenora, and Lenora deserved justice. Arvin could hear her voice already, pleading for him to let it go. To just let the man be. To leave. Do anything else. Settle down with you somewhere far, far away, start a life, start a family. Be free.

“I ain’t ever let anything go, ‘Nora.”

The priest was dead.

Arvin’s blood rushed through his veins as the sun set on the horizon, him zooming through the city streets, eagerly approaching your apartment.

God, it was a thrill. The adrenaline coursing through his veins after watching the damned predator fall onto the church floor bleeding from his wounds was cathartic. It made Arvin’s head whirl and turn dizzy. He had no moral thoughts, he was no longer moral, no longer a man that could be forgiven. Arvin felt the rage that built up within him for years be released with three gunshots, the guilt and agony of being alone and misjudged by any person left behind within the church.

Sitting in the car and hearing the blinker click at him, he turned it off once pulling into the lot. He took off his cap, carding his fingers through his hair, debating if he was really going to let you go.

Y/N offered a future he couldn’t take. It hurt more than anything.

Arvin glanced up at your patio, seeing you move from behind the window. You were only a silhouette. You were yet to be discovered by him in this manner, this new Arvin Russell. You wouldn’t recognize him, he thought, he wouldn’t recognize you.

It would be a completely different take on his life. He was no longer himself. Was he better, or worse? Was he a criminal, or a vigilante? Arvin didn’t know what to do. It hadn’t set in yet that he was no longer only capable of beating bullies shitless. He was so much more than that. He was more.

Arvin could do anything.

It was dark out. He finally found the courage to yank open the door handle and step out of his car. He didn’t bother to lock it, he had nothing to lose.

Entering the apartment’s doors, smelling various spices of cooking or hearing children laughing from very muffled walls, Arvin found himself stomping up the steps, his heart beating against his ribs uneasily.

Staring at the room, noticing that the others around were vacant, Arvin could just about do anything. No one would know.

He clenched his fists a few times before finally knocking on the door with his knuckles. It was like the first time you two had met, his very knuckles expressing his pain and anguish, and you read onto the signs of a lonely man seeking solace. Arvin was still bruised and broken; just not in any place where you could see it.

You opened the door, and your mouth opened before closing abruptly. Arvin knew he must’ve looked like he just killed someone. Well, he did, but you didn’t know about that.

Arvin wanted you. Though, he’d be careful, you were the one delicate thing in his life. He had to treat you with care. He had to treat you so gently this night, for it would be your last with him.

Taking a step inside, he moved his hand up and cupped your cheek, moving his thumb— once holding a gun used to kill— so that it wiped gingerly beneath your bottom lip. Your jaw fidgeted slightly as you were attempting to find words. Though, your hand didn’t disagree with his actions. Instead, it met the back of his palm, planted gently on top of his own hand that held your cheek.

Confident, Arvin moved in closer and pulled you towards him, meeting your lips with his. You made a soft noise in your throat and it set Arvin’s mind on fire. Flames danced between your faces, and he felt you eagerly kiss back, your arms snaking across his shoulders as he found himself kicking the door with the back of his heel to close it shut.

Your hands found themselves on the surface of his head and pushing off his cap to knot fingers in his hair. Arvin didn’t even care. His body was burning underneath your touch as he found himself pressing you against the nearest flat surface, which was your dining room table that held a vase with hand picked flowers resting inside and a sweet floral mat keeping it level. You were so adorable, he swooned in his head, you were so precious to him and oh so good. You’re so good.

Wife material, Arvin’s head was screaming, he wanted to steal you away and marry you. You were lifted onto the mahogany table, Arvin’s tongue swiping at your bottom lip. You were so good, submitting your mouth to him, letting him roam the inside and clutch onto your hips so tightly it could bruise. Feeling your soft, untouched, blessed hands clutch onto his belt line had him push his pelvis closer to yours.

“Arvin—” you attempted, but he wouldn’t let you. No, he wouldn’t let you worry. You didn’t need to worry about anything, not with him around. He was your protector, he would keep you safe, he wouldn’t let you die or leave. He wouldn’t let you be hurt by anyone. Thinking about keeping you close to him in his arms, just this close, making you sigh from pleasure as Arvin plastered kisses down your jaw and to your neck to test the waters of what made you quiver; it was enough to drive him insane.

He found his teeth scraping at your flesh and you gasped, arching your body upwards and he felt your hips grind against his middle. It made him give out a guttural growl of need.

“Arvin, wait— wait, honey, stop—”

Arvin didn’t want to. Though, he would, just for your sake. He lifted his head up to meet yours, and once you made eye contact with him, your expression changed from flustered to concerned. Nurturing. Your hand met his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing itself underneath his eye, and he moved a hand to hold your wrist and gently kiss your palm.

Your voice was so soft, so sweet, as if you raised it any further it would blow Arvin away. “What’s going on?”

He wanted to tell you everything. You were so kind, you were everything, you were the sun and stars and sky. Nuzzling into your hand, he murmured, “Nothin’...”

“It’s clearly something if you come into my apartment and start kissing me like this, Russell,” you spoke, his last name strong in your city accent. Your voice was so stern, so dead set on uncovering him, and Arvin gazed at you, still high from revenge and loving you.

He hesitated. Arvin pinched his lips together, licking them faintly, still tasting your lip scrub on them.

Your warm hands met his burning face, handling them so sweetly. “You don’t need to give me specifics,” you started, “...just give me something, Arvin, so I know you’re in your right mind.”

Your name made his eyes flutter shut, nudging his nose against yours. “Say m’name like that again, sweet girl…”

“Arvin.” Your tone was more of a warning. It pulled him back from the sea of desire.

Arvin sighed, mumbling, “I had a revelation, darlin’…” his thumb rolled circles into your wrist, “I had a good day… ‘m a free man, Y/N. I wanna share this with you.” He opened his eyes to see you gazing at him so sweetly. “Let me have this night with you, pretty girl. I wanna make you feel as good as me. I’m sober, I promise, ‘m just intoxicated by the thought of you.”

“Such a flirt,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt himself smirking.

“Only for you.”

Your beautiful, reflective eyes stared into his. Then, they shut, and you moved your head forward to slowly encapture his lips. Arvin was more than eager to requite this. Fervor filled his loins as he clutched your thigh once it was squeezing against his side.

“Sweet baby girl,” he whispered into your ear, “Can we move this to your bed?”

—

When Arvin woke up, he had never felt more exhausted. He was hit with a newfound clarity. There was a soft gray shade leaking from the windows, and he squinted at the clock from across the room— wiping the fogginess from his eyes— and took notice that it was in the early hours of five a.m. Arvin went to move, but was barricaded by something clinging to his side.

His eyes were round as saucers as he took a hold of your nude bodies entangled.

Flushed, he quickly whipped his head back ahead, staring at the ceiling.

The confidence he had last night was almost embarrassing. Though, he licked his teeth and looked back to you, his fingers carding through your hair. Your hair was so soft to the touch, so perfect for someone like you, never missing the latest trends.

Arvin gave a hum of contentment, taking in your features in the early morning. Last night was full of unbridled desire, a fervor that the both of you had been bottling up for who knows how long. Perhaps, since that rainy day in the bakery, there had been that weird spark that compelled you both to do this.

He buried his nose in your sweet scented hair, pressing his lips against your warm forehead, hearing you shuffle and murmur under your breath. You were still very much asleep.

Taking in your sleeping face for the last time, Arvin gave a pained smile. He didn’t want to leave you at all. He wanted to keep you forever— he wanted to wake up to this every day— but he couldn’t let you become an accomplice. Arvin had to protect you.

With that, he managed to sneak his way out of your koala arms and legs and get dressed in his old clothing. Reading over the letter he wrote yesterday, Arvin felt his heart break with each word. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved better than him— someone who could keep themselves together, who wasn’t so haunted by the past. You came to this city to escape yours, and he couldn’t drag you into his. He had to escape too. Some part of him knew you would understand that with time.

Arvin had stopped by a bakery quickly, ordering a lemon and poppyseed muffin with the most bittersweet feeling, coming back to your room to see you were still dead asleep.

He placed the muffin box down on the nightstand and folded the letter so that it stood up with your name on a proud display. Arvin’s hand wringed its way through his hair before he stared at his ragged blue cap for a moment, placing it alongside the muffin and letter.

Arvin leaned down to kiss you on the lips briefly, you giving a sleepy hum, pursuing your lips lazily before drifting unconscious again. He noticed that the sun was just rising.

The sunset brought a bit of hope. He watched you sleep for a bit, the purple turning into a golden on your features, before he made his exit.

—

Your body felt like jello. Giving a groan, your hands scavenged the sheets for the warm body that accompanied you that night, but you were left with a cold absence. Cracking your eyes open and grunting at the shine of the sun, the clock spoke nine a.m, and you were surprised Arvin was not with you.

You licked your lips and sat up. Stretching your spine, you noticed you were nude and blushed, pulling the sheets up your chest. “Arvin?” You called, noticing the lack of your friend— lover? Boyfriend? Friend with benefits?— and gave a long exhale. Luckily you had the day off, as convenient as that was.

Looking over, you noticed the hat, muffin box, and letter. Your name was in bold pencil, and you tilted your head curiously before leaning over and peering through the plastic cover. You smiled and saw the dark spots of poppyseeds on the treat. It was sentimental, and your heart nearly burst.

Gazing at the hat, you were inquiring if he just managed to leave it behind.

You decided to take the letter, opening it up and not preparing for what you’d read.

Y/N,

You’re probably wondering where I am right now. I am too. If you asked me right now, I wouldn’t be able to give you an answer.

I did something that can’t be forgiven. Maybe not by the Lord, definitely not by law, uncertain by you. I don’t want you to worry. I’m safe. I can’t come back. I can’t give you a number or address. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know who I will be.

The world ain’t been kind. I know it ain’t been kind to you either. I don’t want to make things even worse for you, sweet girl. You’re everything I didn’t deserve. You said to me a long time ago that I deserve good, but I don’t. You are such a good girl, so much so I can’t have you. A part of me wants to be selfish and keep you. I know I can’t. I can’t do that to you.

You’re gonna hear about that preacher man. You’re gonna hear things about me, probably. I just want you to know I did it because I had to. You need to know that. I couldn’t be alive knowing Lenora wasn’t and he was. I’m sorry, baby.

I’m sorry for leaving you. I don’t want to. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be with me right now, pretty girl. I’d give everything just to see you every morning, every afternoon, every night. Ever since that day where you forgave me for the first time for my sins, smoking and drinking black coffee, I know what else I could fight for. I know what I could have just for myself. The sad part is, God is a sadist, and he won’t let me have you.

You asked me if I like Puppy Love, and I do. I’m listening to music for once as I write this, and I understand all the stuff they cry about on the radio. I know what it means to love. My heart ain’t ever been this broke before, sweetheart. 

I love you, Y/N.

As I said, we’ll be seeing each other again. Look out for postcards from my initials.

A.R.

When you finished, wet spots had been dotting the paper, and the last two initials were the final nail in the coffin. You let out a choked sob, leaning over to clutch onto the paper close to your chest. You collapsed onto the sheets, weeping, unable to comprehend. You kept asking why, why, why, even though it was right in front of you.

You flipped the page, noting the sweet lyrics on the back.

I cry each night, my tears are for you, my tears are all in vain, I hope, I hope and I pray, that maybe someday, you’ll be back in my arms once again.

Sniffling and wiping at your nose, you gave a few sobs, pressing your palm against your damp cheeks until they turned red.

You folded the paper and placed it back on your nightstand, curling in on yourself, clutching your sheets that still had Arvin’s presence lingering on them. Pressing them against your wet, hot face, you gave a few soft wheezes.

How could you tell Arvin you loved him, too? How could you write back to him? How could you sleep at night, not knowing he was okay? That there was no way you could tell him you’d wait forever for him?

You must’ve managed to doze off, as the sun was no longer as golden as before. The skies were a clear blue, and you managed to tug on tolerable clothes. Standing on your patio, you clutched the metal railings, staring down at the town with dismay. He was no longer here. This town no longer held that charming spark that you’d learn to love.

Walking back inside, you gazed at the letter, muffin, and hat. Leaning over, you grabbed the blue cap and rubbed your thumbs against the torn fabric, pressing the lid against your lips and kissing it. At least you had this— something you rarely saw him without. He gave you this, and your heart soared at the thought. Placing it on the top of your head, you took the lemon and poppyseed muffin and headed towards McCann Boys.

Marilyn perked at your presence, speaking, “Sweetpea, it’s not your workday.”

“I’m here as a guest,” you murmured, gazing at her, and Marilyn’s eyebrows rose at your expression. She gave a sorry nod at you, continuing to swipe down the counters.

You sat in the booth you and Arvin met at, and you took your seat, gazing at the ashtray emptily. Picking at the muffin, you fixed your cap to hide your face.

The radio near the coffee player began to sing. Your heart dropped, and you recalled the oh-so familiar lyrics.

...This is not a puppy love.

[tundrainafrica]

That Levihan fic you mentioned from Erwin's pov....I would be VERY interested in reading that if you ever decided to post it just so you know...(no pressure ofc tho <3)

Thank you for the ask anon! 

Ask and you shall receive. 

Title: Omissions

Summary:  

“Erwin first suspected that there was something going on between the squad leader and the captain during one of their strategy meetings. It was in the greetings and farewells they exchanged as fellow soldiers."

The development of Levi and Hange's relationship from Commander Erwin’s POV

Written for @levihanweek  Angstober 2020. Prompt: Greetings and Farewells

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: This was originally written for  Levihanangstober 2020 for the prompt, "Greetings and Farewells" I was just generally unsatisfied with how it turned out so I decided to write "free spot" instead. Since this paled in comparison, I kinda had this idea that it was horrible. But reading it again now, it wasn't bad per se. In fact, I had fun looking back at this fic.

Thank you to the anon for that request. That got me the courage at least to reopen this file.

Erwin first suspected that there was something going on between the squad leader and the captain during one of their strategy meetings.

It was in the greetings and farewells they exchanged as fellow soldiers.

Or their lack of it at least. Erwin thought to himself as he watched the two make their way out of the office and into the hallway together.

The meetings usually ended at nine in the evening. With physical drills awaiting them early the next morning, officers usually went straight to their rooms. Although his room was more accessible to the corridor on the right, Levi always accompanied Hange as the latter exited through the left.

Erwin had discounted it the few times to survey corps business between the two, maybe training, maybe collaborations. Hange would want to test different weapons on titans or secure samples out in the field and to prevent unnecessary deaths, it was only natural she would coordinate with Levi to help secure her projects.

Erwin started to watch their dynamics more closely when he noticed that their leaving meetings together had become routine. Having spent a fair share of his younger years hanging out in bars with Nile and dating women, he was confident he could pick out a developing relationship if it bloomed right in front of him.

The pattern was there. Erwin just had to press the right buttons.

The next meeting, Erwin took note of the body language of the two as he summarized the agenda towards the end of the meeting. That was usually the point where everyone started tidying up their paperwork and sat up straight, ready to leave.

While Hange had also started to pick up her paperwork, Erwin could not help but notice that she had snuck a glance at Levi more than once.

"Levi. Stay behind."

"Sure." Levi was quick to reply, his tone as neutral as it always was.

Erwin kept his eyes trained on Hange. If he had not been purposefully observing her, he probably would not have caught it. For a second Hange had looked surprised but a little panicked at the sudden order he made.

He needed to probe more to be sure. That night, he drilled Levi for updates on his squad so as not to raise suspicion for having made him stay in the first place.

The meeting after that when Erwin ordered the same thing to Hange, Levi had briefly glanced at the brunette before looking back again at his paperwork, his expression unchanged. Levi's reaction was more subtle but Erwin had worked with the captain long enough to know that any reaction from someone as stoic as him was big news.

He drilled Hange on any developments with her research. They were already starting to plan their next expedition so it was only natural that he would want to talk to the logistics leader.

"There's this new test I wanted to try. We've already proven that titans use their sight often with hunting. I want to get more information on their hearing and maybe create a sound grenade." Hange explained.

"Have you tried collaborating with Levi?" Erwin suggested. It was an unnecessary suggestion Levi had become valuable to Hange's research already. With his fighting skills, he was easily able to secure areas outside the wall, and had prevented unnecessary deaths during her previous research activities.

"I've been working with Levi lately actually. There were so many things I wanted to try out so I have been bothering him a lot. I haven't told you about it?" Hange gave Erwin a sheepish grin.

Erwin noticed a slight blush but at that point wondered if it was just excitement and maybe slight embarrassment at failing to properly report her progress to him. "Just do what you need to do to keep your department running." He said. "If Levi is free and you need someone to accompany you, I don't mind you asking him for help."

"Yes sir." Hange looked more relaxed.

Erwin started to think that he could be wrong about a relationship blooming between them. He had seen Hange blush the same way when she enthused about titans and research. He had never seen Levi blush though and wondered if he did at all.

Hange and Levi had similar goals and may have just decided to work closely to achieve them, they were aberrant humans, their personalities at complete ends of the spectrum, coincidentally working towards similar goals. Erwin eventually realized that his experience with relationships did not cover those eccentric enough at least to join a group with mortality rates as high as that of the survey corps. He was the only one from his own group of friends among the cadets who had joined the survey corps after all. He conceded that with what he knew then, he could not assume the status of their relationship.

"Hange," Erwin started as the brunette made her way to the door. "Remember, the preservation of humanity should always be your ultimate goal of your research. You made that oath when you joined the survey corps. Don't lose sight of it."

Just in case his first suspicion was correct.

                                     Omissions

He might have been thinking too far with what he suspected. The inkling that something might still be there remained. To placate it when he could though, Erwin decided at least to try for some extra assurance.

That night he took the corridor to the left on the way back to his room. It circled the whole camp so it meant an extra ten minutes to get to his room.

Why would Hange and Levi take that extra ten minutes to their room? Unless there was some place they would want to visit after meetings.

It was easy to deduce after that train of thought that the only place worth staying in after dark was the dining hall.

He was proven right when he neared the dining hall and heard the distinct voice of one Hange Zoe. He could not make out what she was talking about as he stood outside but he could make out her voice, her tone and a distinct softness he had not heard before. Hange was generally an emotional person and she spoke to her subordinates with a unique tone that exudes both authority and gentleness.

At that moment though, talking privately to Levi, her tone was much softer and warmer. It was not the tone anyone would expect from a soldier.

"Knowing you four eyes, you'd fuck it all up…" Levi's voice seemed more relaxed.

A change in tone when talking to someone one's attracted to was evidence in itself of a possibly blooming relationship. Given their eccentric personalities though, Erwin was not satisfied.

Erwin entered the dining hall. "You too, what are you doing out so late at night?"

Before Erwin could even catch their expressions, both faces had morphed into that of complete astonishment at the sudden entrance of their commander.

"Commander Erwin…" Hange's eyes widened in surprise.

"It isn't healthy to stay up this late," he lectured as he approached the table they occupied towards the corner of the room.

"We don't sleep much anyway." Levi answered as he took a sip of tea.

"Talking about new developments?" Erwin asked, keeping his eyes focused on their expressions.

Levi's expression as usual, was unchanging.

Hange on the other hand, grinned at Erwin excitedly. "He agreed to test the sound bomb with me outside the walls. I was about to explain to him how I created it actually."

Erwin sat down on a chair next to them. "If you don't mind me here, I'd like to listen too."

If there was something going on between them, they probably would have at least looked a little disappointed to have a third wheel hanging around. Erwin surprisingly felt welcomed as Levi moved a little to the side to give Erwin leg room and Hange continued on to her tirade on her new invention.

Erwin started to see that it was in the way they talked, and the way they peppered the conversation with their personality. Hange would sometimes briefly digress from the main topic to rave about miniscule details and Levi noticeably made more vulgar jokes in between. Their shift in their tones towards each other did not change even as Erwin joined them.

As they exchanged ideas, Erwin saw that their expressions were very much consistent with their shifts in tone. Hange's eyes were somehow brighter as she enthused about her inventions and Levi somehow lost his almost perpetual sullen manner as he responded to her.

Back when he was dating, Erwin had felt self conscious about those small details when talking to Marie. He had always tried to remain stoic while with Marie to preserve the peace between him and his friend.

Those two did not seem self conscious at all to be showing this side of themselves to Erwin.

"You two talk like a married couple." Erwin commented.

They both turned to Erwin, looking genuinely surprised at his comment. A few moments later, their faces turned pink at the realization of what he just said.

At least we know they can be self conscious.

Knowing their personalities, Erwin realized he shouldn't have been surprised if they did not notice it. They did not look like the types to just jump into a relationship or even know how it usually develops in the first place.

Erwin just nodded in fake agreement as he listened to the pair scrambling for a justification for their too friendly exchanges. The latter was too busy fitting the pieces together to even make sense of it.

There was something going on between them. They just didn't know it yet.

                                      Omissions

Erwin had let that complicated relationship between the two parties continue as it did prove to come with its own results.

The researches of Hange were done efficiently with little to no unnecessary deaths in the process. While working together, the two had reported success in the invention of the flash bomb, the sound grenade and further improvements to the gun used for scouting formations.

While it did develop, Erwin started to worry. The reason he had broken up with Marie in the first place is because he also knew that love could be a distraction. At that point in time, it proved to have been an inspiration for both of them.

What would happen if they figure out their feelings for each other? If they do get together?

In his many years in the survey corps, Erwin had not seen any relationship end well since most anyone who had fallen in love within the survey corps, had their vision clouded at one point and ended up dead.

The saving grace came in the fact that both soldiers were just too dense to figure it out for themselves and had attributed the passion and exhilaration that came with being together to a passion for their jobs.

Erwin thought it better to keep it that way. For the betterment of the survey corps.

He could not risk losing his two best soldiers.

Fortunately for Erwin, within a few years, the establishment of the Special Operations Squad, Hange and Levi continued to find more reason to work together. With the survey corps constantly developing and constantly on the move though, the two never did probe further into that bond between them.

Erwin still continued to keep close tabs with them, enlisting the help of Mike.

With Hange's new resolve to capture a titan came new developments to their relationship beyond their hanging out together until the wee hours of morning.

As Hange started to push her agenda for capturing titans, she started to become more reckless. Erwin did not know at first whether that may have been from the actual excitement or a development. When Levi initially vocalized his rejection during their meetings, looking to have his squad's safety in mind, Erwin suspected the former.

One expedition, Hange rushed to the forest to chase an aberrant. Erwin had confidence in her ability to stay alive but had ordered Levi to chase after her. The latter was already on his horse when Erwin turned to him.

He wondered if he should have let Mike go instead, when they came back with a journal and Levi's sudden 180. The journal proved to be a breakthrough of a discovery and with two of his most trusted officers pushing for the agenda, he ended up approving it anyway.

How had she convinced Levi to help her capture a titan?

During the capture mission, there were no casualties so he could rest easy, knowing that they were at least still thinking straight.

Either way, the possibility of their relationship deepening continued to weigh on Erwin's mind.

In the case that they did start to suspect, would he let it happen? Or would he try to stop it?

They had become two of his closest friends over the years and as someone close to them, he felt it was his duty to at least nudge them in the right direction. His duty as commander protested this sentiment and in the end, he chose to err on the side of omission. If they did get together, he could at least convince himself that he had been busy with other things.

After the assault at Trost, Hange had busied herself with her new captured titans while Levi took custody of their newfound titan shifter Eren in the old scout headquarters.

A few days before their 57th expedition, Erwin called Moblit in for a quick report on the squad leaders movements, feigning worry over the Hange's sleeping schedule.

Moblit reported that Hange had visited the quarters a few times to experiment on Eren. Of course Hange would have been interested in the titan shifter. As the assistant reported to the commander, he did not look like he suspected anything at all.

Valid reasons at least.

The night the new captured titans were found dead, Erwin in between preparing for the 57th expedition in barracks and pondering the culprit, found Levi along the corridors of the barracks.

The scouting headquarters was at least a few hours ride away from the barracks.

"How's Eren?" Erwin asked. What are you doing here?

"Eren is in the basement of the old castle now so he wouldn't give my squad too hard of a time if he transforms."

"Tell Hange we're meeting tomorrow night in my office. I need to share something about the next expedition."

"WIll do."

As Erwin watched Levi make his way to the corridors to what he was sure was Hange's room, he could not help but note that Levi was not at all defending his effort or his motivations for visiting the barracks for the night.

Erwin felt his heart constrict and allowed himself to express some empathy for the two as soon as he got into his office. He sat on his chair, looked up at the blank ceiling of his empty office and closed his eyes.

Do you really not see it? He let out a painful sigh.

                                          Omissions

The night after the 57th expedition, having sustained multiple losses, he knew he would be facing trial at the capital. They had discussed the certainty of Annie being the female titan but by then, Erwin was considering the possibility that they could be wrong, and the survey corps could get dissolved.

After that, Hange helped an injured Levi to an empty meeting room, most likely to tend to his wounds and console the captain after he had lost his whole squad.

He did not know what happened between them in the room. Levi though, was due to accompany him to the capital. When he came out of the headquarters and into the carriage with a dinner jacket a few sizes too big for him, Erwin knew something was up.

"That's Hange's jacket."

"She lent it to me."

He did not question any further. There were far more important problems to consider than the relationship between his two soldiers. He distracted himself by furtively observing the body language of Levi. As they got closer to the capital where they were to stand trial, the captain held the dinner jacket closer to himself.

Seeking her warmth? Erwin thought. That unfunny joke was mostly for himself. Somehow he knew, that would be the last time he'd have time to think about them for a while.  

The capture of the three titan shifters and the impending coup d'etat kept Erwin busy. Too busy to even consider the possibly blooming relationship of the two.

It was only after losing his arm and ending up out of commission did he have time to think about them again.

Especially with Hange as the new commander. As he lay in bed that one night, he allowed himself a few seconds to wonder what Hange's appointment as commander could mean for their relationship. A few times since then, he had considered telling them. His inclination to keep the future commander focused won over.

With the crowning of the new queen and the operation to take back Wall Maria nearing, Erwin was sure there were soldiers who would not make it back. Hange and Levi were no exceptions.

After he had brought that reality up in their meeting and after Levi had confronted him on his own intentions to join the operation, the next few times he saw Levi, the latter was with Hange.

Erwin noticed that they had watched each other's backs as they arrived on the wall at Shiganshina. As Erwin assigned Hange and Levi's squad to the armored and colossal titan  and Levi to take care of the horses, he snuck a glance at Levi and Hange who had given each other one last look before separating. From his angle, he could only see Hange's face.

A face that made his lip quiver and his stomach drop. A face of painful surrender.

                                               Omissions

"What happened to Hange?"

When Levi asked that in the middle of the already bloody battlefield, Erwin felt his chest constrict. He scolded himself a few seconds later for having even taken up valuable mind space to consider their relationship.

Erwin looked to Levi, keeping his face expressionless. "I don't know."

She was most probably dead. No one could have survived the explosion and Erwin had felt a small twinge of guilt at having assigned Hange there in the first place.

Levi was an important piece in the battlefield though and as commander, one of his priorities was to keep Levi on his feet. If it meant lying, then so be it.

                                           Omissions

Dedicate your hearts. Death came in slow motion.

It gave him enough time to come to terms with the reality of the war and his own decisions. He himself had thrown out his humanity, his relationships and his worldly attachments for the knowledge and the freedom he had promised his father he would attain.

For a second, he considered as well the other soldiers who would be following the same path. And the one soldier who would be filling his shoes soon enough.

Hange.

And by extension, that one soldier that had been joined to her hip since day one, despite their being on different squads.

Hange and Levi had made that same salute countless times, further proving their dedication through the years they had spent working under him. He couldn’t help but think the vague relationship the two had set up for themselves had brought forth all the developments to make the take back of Wall Maria possible. It could have also been the other way around.

Nagging regret had clung to his chest despite having pushed his thoughts elsewhere.

Had he really done it on purpose? Was it a conscious decision on his end to have kept the two from even understanding the inkling of a relationship between them? The inkling of a feeling, a sense of trust that dug deeper than a close friendship?

Did you do it for the right reasons? He allowed himself a glance at Levi who was starting to cut at the titans at the wings of the beast titan. His thoughts shifted there. Would Levi have been able to manage this feat if he had known?

It was a hypothetical and Erwin was sure he would never know. As the rocks sailed towards him, Erwin set aside all regrets, all the thoughts that had left him almost tempted to turn back.

Victory for humanity. He let those words echo in his head and overpower his laments and regrets.

Victory for humanity. In the end, that’s all that matters.

[writefightandflightclub]

I dare ya (Poe Dameron x reader fluff)

What is this? #8 of 14 prompt requests for my now semi-distant 500 follower celebration (sorry that they’re taking me an age to complete)!

Prompt / summary: “You dared me to!” + “I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” + fluff + regular!Poe.

One fateful night, Poe dares you to kiss him, but he never expected you to actually do it!

Author’s note: I wasn’t super imaginative with this one (not through lack of trying). Hope you like it though! Finn and Rey make a rare appearance too!

Word count: Just over 2k Warnings: casual alcohol consumption; too many POV shifts; typos, probably.  GIF credit: @starwarsfilms​

Poe’s eyes are closed, his eyelashes splaying out like soft fans, his full lips puckered, and his strong jaw angled towards you. He’s awash with the glow of the soft firelight, the dancing flames picking out the contours of his artful, gorgeous face. It’s a delicious sight, and it makes you forget yourself. You forget where you are. Forget that you probably shouldn’t kiss him. And so, you can’t help but oblige him and move in for the kill.

“Woah! What the kriff!” Poe exclaims as your hot lips brush tentatively against his, apparently, much to the shock of him and all of your friends, judging by the audible ripple of surprise which spreads around the circle.

You recoil as soon as you have any hint that your affections may not be wanted, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “You dared me to!” You exclaim, defensively. Suddenly, he has you wondering if you are more tipsy than you’d realised. Why else would you be so daft as to oblige him and lean in like that, in front of everyone?

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” Poe waves his hands around in disbelief, his palms up like he’s balancing plates, his cheeks darkening with embarrassment.

Yikes. You had to mess things up, didn’t you? He wasn’t being serious. And you had to go and kiss your kriffing Commander. Can the ground swallow you now and take you away from this mess?

Sat up on the hill with the gang, you were engaging in a rare night off to celebrate a recent victory, the occasion paired with a circling bottle of fire whiskey and some increasingly juvenile behaviour. The game of truth or dare had certainly escalated when Poe dared you to kiss him. Well, now that you’ve screwed up, you are very quickly sobering up, the party mood ebbing swiftly away from you.

Desperately trying to find a way to backtrack and mask your humiliation as all eyes converge on you, your mouth opens and then closes wordlessly. It feels like an age since anyone else spoke. Has silence ever lasted this long before in the history of the universe? You force a thin and unconvincing laugh. “Then why in Maker’s name did you dare me to?”

“I dunno, I thought you would chew me out, like anyone else who flirts with you. Or that it would be kinda funny to watch you squirm.” He defends, his voice escalating in pitch. “I didn’t really want you to kiss me!”

Oh, wow. His final words are like a punch in the gut. You’ve had a devastating crush on the pilot for a long time now, so you can’t help but bristle at his words. Can forgive yourself for the ache which blooms in your chest, dragging the corners of your lips down and birthing jewelled tears in the corner of your eyes. That’s it then. After all this time you’ve wasted wondering, he has finally rejected you. He doesn’t want to kiss you. And worse, everyone heard him say it.

It takes everything you have not to cry right there. You manage to postpone your tears, at least. Smooth your face just enough to enact your swift exit. “You know what? I’m tired. I might just go to bed, guys.”, you announce to a sea of tipsy and disappointed faces. Maybe they’ll finish off the rest of the booze in your absence and forget your mistake by morning. You can hope. 

The rest of the group groan in protest and reach their arms out to you, beckoning you to stay. But all Poe gives you is an indifferent “okay.”

Really? Really? He’s actually going to add insult to injury? You scoff lightly at him, shaking your head, not believing quite how oblivious he is as to how much he’s hurting you right now.

You wave to everyone and Rey and Finn jump up to give you a quick farewell hug. “Do you need me?” Rey asks pointedly - the only one of your friends who knows how much you pine hopelessly for the Commander. In hushed tones, you convince her that you just want to be left alone and you slink off down the hill to your quarters.

***

Stood apart from the main group, Rey and Finn sorrowfully watch you leave, before turning to one another and relaying, almost at the same time: “Poe is such an idiot.” Their heads whip towards one another in confusion.

“Wait, why do you think he’s an idiot?” Finn inquires.

Rey huddles closer. “You mean my most recent reason? Well, between you and I... I happen to know that (Y/N) is into him, and he clearly just upset them. Why do you think he’s an idiot?”

Finn becomes animated, over-excited, leaning in conspiratorially, speaking too quickly. “Because I’ve got intel that he is into (Y/N) and he just completely screwed it up!”

Rey and Finn’s eyes light up, toothy smiles beaming from their faces, hands clasping together as they realise what this means. “They like each other!” They both exclaim at the same time. Then, they turn towards Poe in unison, eyes needling him as he sits, casually sipping his beer, seemingly lost in deep thought and unaware that he is the hot topic of the moment.

“Oi! Poe Dameron!” Rey scolds loudly, and he flicks his eyes up towards his friends, vaguely wondering why they stand with their arms folded and lips pursed as if he’s about to get a telling off. Unconsciously, he braces himself. “Er, excuse me, but you’d better be planning on going after (Y/N)” Rey prods.

His brows knit together and he stands apart from the rest of the group to join the secret little conflab currently taking place. “What? Why’s that?”

“Because they like you” Rey begins.

“And you like them...” Finn continues.

“And because you -you difficult man- just told them in no uncertain terms that you don’t want to kiss them.”

“You big dum dum.” Finn adds for effect, earning a side-eye from Poe.

Confusion washes over the commander’s face. “But I didn’t say....” Realisation slowly -a little too slowly- takes root and twists through his features as he looks between his friends. Then, suddenly, he looks as animated and directionless as an excitable puppy. “Oh, Kriff. Kriff! I gotta go after them.”

Rey rolls her eyes as Poe says it as if it was his idea all along. “Er, yeah, that’s what we’ve been saying.”

“Yeah, dum dum.” Finn adds again to hammer the point home, smiling to himself as Poe bristles.

“I gotta go.” Poe bites down on his lip with a new found determination, squeezes Rey’s shoulders, grabs Finn’s face in his hands to plant a kiss of gratitude on his forehead, and springs forth from his position to race down the hill and on towards your quarters.

He arrives at your door a little breathless and knocks on it softly. Momentarily, the door swings open and you greet him with a confused expression, which quickly transitions into thinly veiled annoyance. Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?, he wonders, inwardly berating himself.

“No thank you.” You bite off, before closing the door in his face.

Oh. Well that didn’t go so great.

***

You hear another, more insistent knock on the door and sigh exasperatedly, this time opening it wordlessly and wondering what Poe might have to say for himself.

“Can I come in?” he says, looking at you from beneath those endlessly long, thick lashes.

“No, I have a friend over.” At that BB-8′s muffled beeps emanate from inside your room.

“Little traitor.” You and Poe both mumble fondly at the same time, each appearing taken aback by the reminder of how in sync you are. Usually are. Maybe some time apart would be wise after all, instead of living in each others’ pockets on every mission. And in-between every mission. Maybe that would help you get some closure.

“Please.” Poe pleads softly. “Can I join you?”

“D’pends. Are you only here because Rey told you to be?” You tap your foot agitatedly on the floor.

“Not exactly.”

You examine his well-meaning face for a few moments and then sigh, gesturing with your arm to welcome him into the room. The door clasps shut behind him and he comes to stand in the centre of the minimal floorspace, not much choice but to position himself only a few steps away from you.

“What can I help you with, Poe?”

“Got a question for ya. Truth or dare?” he asks with an unabashed smirk, earning a scowl from you. If he had any sense he’d realise the wound is too fresh for this to be as charming as he no doubt thinks it is.

“Come on, humour me?” he encourages, and ok... he is effortlessly charming you. He’s got a talent for it. That, or you have a deficiency in resisting him. You fold your arms, but it is evident that you’re doing it to mask the fact that you’re softening. You know it and he knows it.

“Fine. I choose truth.”

He sucks in air through his teeth, leaning forward to whisper emphatically to you from behind his hand. “This will go a lot better if you choose dare.”

Your eyes narrow, intrigued and slightly nervous about where he’s going with this. But you concede. “Fine. Dare.” You try to keep your voice impassive.

Stifling a smile, Poe shuffles closer to you, until he’s mere inches away. When he speaks, his voice is still barely above a whisper. “I dare you to kiss me.”

You’re sure the way your heart instantly starts pounding can’t be healthy. You try to hide the effect his proximity and his words are having on you. He may have rejected you, but his pull on you is still undeniable. It’s like that time you were almost sucked into a black hole. Your hands are on the controls but you’re not the one piloting this ship any longer. “Apparently you don’t want to kiss me, Poe.”

“I thought you might say that. Clearly I, uh, inadvertently gave you that impression, huh?” He casually runs a hand over his stubble and it bristles. It’s an unwelcome reminder that earlier you were close enough to feel it scratch against your skin. “Can I explain something, though?”

“Go ahead.”, you invite him. What have you got to lose?

He shuffles forward a little more, stroking his hands softly down your arms until he reaches your hands, gently clasping them in his. You shake your head in attempted protest, in confusion, but somehow can’t bring yourself to do much more than that. His hands are warm and reassuring, just like him. Even with this small amount of touch you feel entirely held. You don’t want to have him let go. Not now. Hell, not ever, if you can help it. “Honey.” he breathes, his dark eyes searching yours in earnest. The pet name he’s only ever called you in jest somehow hits so different when it’s accompanied by that look in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to kiss me because of how badly I want you to kiss me.”

You blink repeatedly, feeling like his words are leaving you hanging right on the edge of some precipice. You’re certain you’re going over, but you’re not quite sure yet if you’re going to fall or fly when you do. “Poe. That makes no sense whatsoever.”

He knows fine well it doesn’t, but he’s not finished with you yet, so he simply smiles softly, taking his time with his declaration, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He strokes you there, strokes your shoulder, your hair, brushes the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, his voice almost painfully sincere. “I didn’t want you to kiss me up there. Not like that. If you had, how would I have been able to hide how much I wanted it. How I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long. If you’d kissed me, how would I have been able to stop?” He has tears swelling in your eyes for the second time that night, but, this time, they too hit different. “If you’d kissed me like that, how would I give you the kinda kiss I’ve been dreamin’ of givin’ you for so long? The kinda kiss I’m gonna give you right now.”

You swear you have forgotten how to breathe.

“So, baby.”, he continues. “Kiss me. I dare ya.”

And this time, as your lips meet his, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in. He leans in with his whole body and with his whole heart, meeting yours. And he kisses you.

THE END

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[cuddlepilefics]

Every step of the way

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

TW: cancer (remember this blog is about fluff and comfort, we don’t do sad here....)

No one’s POV.:

It had been almost half a year since that fateful day, the day a doctor told Hyunjin he wasn’t as fine as he always thought. The dancer had pushed the thoughts as far away from himself as possible, maybe if he didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be true. His mom was the first one who learned about his diagnosis, urging her son to get treatment immediately. The doctor had advised to try chemotherapy first, prescribing a bunch of pills the dancer would have to take for three days in a row, wait for three months and repeat. Planned were four two six cycles, depending on how well the boy would respond to the treatment. Hyunjin’s day to day life now included frequent doctor visits, which he somehow managed to go to in secrecy. He had done two cycles so far and both had left him throwing up for days afterwards. Both times his friends had been there, comforting him and holding his hair out of the way as they tried to help the dancer get over his ‘stomach bug’ quickly. His hyungs prepared him light meals while the youngers cuddled him, not getting tired of the dancer’s movie requests as they watched the same few dramas over and over again with him. Little did they know.

Hyunjin knew he had lost weight, which was a miracle since he didn’t even weigh much to begin with. Dancing which was one of the things he used to enjoy most, suddenly didn’t sound as appealing anymore. His stamina was decreasing and he felt fatigued most of the time, dancing just seemed way too tiresome to be fun. Minho and Felix were the first two to notice their friend not being himself. The dance-line often practiced alone and Hyunjin’s lack of drive soon showed. His dance was lacking the usual energy and he called for water-breaks more frequently. Their concerns were often brushed of with simple statements like ‘I should have gone to bed earlier last night’ or ‘I’ve already practiced earlier’. Changbin had gotten concerned when they were fooling around backstage and he had picked the younger up, noticing how shockingly easy it was. Was the dancer on a diet? He certainly didn’t need to.  

With the next cycle of his therapy approaching, Hyunjin knew he needed to talk to his members. Their schedule was packed and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up. The dancer had dreaded the conversation with his group, having to tell them he wasn’t ok and that he needed a break. He didn’t even know how to do it, the thought of calling a group-meeting making his heart beat loudly and his hands shake. Pulling out his phone, he quickly typed a short message and asked if they could all talk after dinner. That way he wouldn’t be able to chicken out again. It was only a few hours till the other members would come back from their individual practices. Hyunjin had settled for memorizing his lyrics and practicing his rap in the safety and comfort of their dorm. Rubbing at his face and patting his cheeks a few times, he tried to get himself to focus on the lyric sheets in his lap, the letters and words muddling together and losing their meaning as his thoughts were everywhere but on the task on hand.

The time passed a lot faster than expected, and soon there was a knock on the door before Seungmin poked his head in to tell Hyunjin dinner was ready. The dancer sighed, putting his lyric sheets away. He had been less productive than he had hoped he’d be. Sitting down between Seungmin and Changbin, he accepted the plate Chan handed him. The leader had meant well, piling up a generous amount of food. Hyunjin frowned, he didn’t feel too hungry to begin with and the anxious knot twisting in his stomach certainly didn’t help his appetite. Mainly pushing the food around with his chopsticks, the dancer rearranged the words in his head and tried to figure out how he’d start the conversation later. The members noticed him spacing out but left him be, knowing their friend would talk to them later. The majority of the group was already done eating when Hyunjin hadn’t even finished half of his meal. He simply helped clear the table when the others were done, dumping the rest of his food into the trash since he didn’t feel like eating anymore than he had already forced down. “You really didn’t want to eat any more?”, Chan frowned, he didn’t want his dongsaeng getting even skinnier than he already was. The younger shook his head and walked over to the living room couch, sitting down while he waited for the others to join him.

They were all gathered and Chan sensed the nervousness radiating off of his dongsaeng, so as the leader he decided to start: “You wanted to talk to us, Jinnie? Go ahead, you have our attention.” The dancer cleared his throat a few times, scrubbing his sweaty hands against his pants to dry them. “I-I have cancer”, he blurted out, his mind blank and the carefully prepared speech forgotten. There was no reply, just eerie silence. His friends had heard him but were unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. Minho was the first to shake off the shock, patting the younger’s shoulder: “Not too bad, you got me there for a second.” A tear rolled down Hyunjin’s cheek and he shook his head. “Damn, you weren’t joking”, Minho cursed, pulling his dongsaeng into a tight hug. He didn’t want to let go any time soon, so he didn’t. Chan bit his lip, he knew something was up but he didn’t expect this. “We kinda figure something was off about you, just… ohh well. How long has it been?”, he sighed, slowly letting the news sink in. Avoiding the leader’s gaze, the dancer admitted: “’bout half a year. Those last two times I got sick were actually the side effects of the treatment.” Minho let go of him and settled for sitting on the floor against Hyunjin’s legs, which cleared the space for Jisung to come over and cling to his youngest hyung. “I had to tell you now because I’ll have to take the medication again in a few days and it will obviously take me down again for a while like the last times”, he hummed quietly, shuddering at the thought. Chan knelt down next to Minho and squeezed Hyunjin’s hand, assuring: “It’s okay, I’ll talk to our managers. We’ll clear your schedule and you just focus on resting and riding it out, yeah?”, the younger nodded, sniffling quietly as the leader continued, “Should you ever need to go on a hiatus, talk to me, okay? I know our livestyle is stressful and doesn’t allow much time to rest, so if you need a break, we’ll get you one.”

After a long silence, Hyunjin admitted with tears in his eyes: “I’ll probably need to at some point. It’s getting so hard to keep up with you when dancing but what if Stay will think Stray Kids is as good or even better without me?” – “That is not going to happen! Stray Kids is not Stray Kids without you hyung. Stay would want you to take care of yourself, just like we want you to. Do you remember what you told me when my anxiety got really bad? You said ‘there’s no shame in taking a rest, you come first, your job comes second’. Same goes for you too, hyung”, Jisung reminded, “We just want you to be well.” – “It’s j-just, I really loved dancing and now I can barely do it anymore. What if I’m not as good as before when all of this is over”, the older mumbled, playing with his sleeve. Tapping the dancer’s knee from where he was sitting on the ground, Minho spoke up with a firm expression: “Look at me, Jinnie. I’m good at dancing, so I can judge. You have so much natural talent as a dancer, that’s nothing that just suddenly vanishes. Yeah, you might forget about some of the moves but we are all here to remind you again.” Felix nodded along promising: “We’re the dance-line, we work on our dancing together, always have and always will. How many nights have you stayed behind with me to help me get it right, don’t you think I’m willing to do the same for you?” – “Thank you, Lixxie”, he smiled, drying his eyes with his sleeve.

“You got this, Jinnie”, Changbin smiled, ruffling his dongsaeng’s hair. The younger cringed at the touch, pleading: “Please don’t do this, it’s falling out quick enough as it is”, twirling a long strand around his finger he whimpered, “I don’t want to lose it all, I’d be so ugly being bald.” – “Jinnie, look at Chan, for now he has less hair than you. Is he ugly?”, Changbin asked. “Of course, he is!”, Hyunjin joked, snorting and earning an irritated “Excuse me???” from the leader. Changbin just continued, ignoring his hyung: “We’ll simply make sure he’ll dye his hair again for the next comeback, so he’ll lose it faster”, he winked, “and if you feel self-conscious, wear a beanie. We always do. It won’t be so much different and you can also borrow some of mine if you get tired of your own collection. We all know I have an endless number of them, you will always find one that goes with your outfit.” The dancer nodded gratefully while Jisung removed himself from his side, dashing to his room. He was slightly out of breath when he jogged back to the living room, with a black beanie in his hands. Upon further inspection, the older could make out a pair of cat ears on top of it. “Here, I haven’t worn it in an eternity but I thought it would look really good on you”, the rapper announced with sparkling eyes, “Try it on!” Hyunjin complied earning a bush of squeals, while Jisung pinched his cheek exclaiming: “Cute!” The younger fixed it a bit, so it was facing straight, beaming at his hyung: “You should keep it, it looks so much better on you anyways.” – “Thanks, Sungie. But what if I don’t want to walk around the dorm wearing a beanie 24/7?”, the dancer worried. Frowning at his hyung’s insecurity, Jeongin spoke up: “Hyung, you don’t have to hide from us. You are so handsome, you know, there’s a reason you are called prince. What’s on your head won’t change that, plus we care about you, not your hair. To us it doesn’t matter what’s on your head, if you’d walk around with a chicken living up there, we wouldn’t care.” – “Well, I would be mildly concerned if there was a chicken on his head”, Felix’ deep voice cut in. Seungmin tapped his lips, thinking deeply before considering: “I mean, a raven or a snow owl would be fine but a chicken, come on Jeongin, Hyunjin has more style than that.” – “Guys, you don’t get the point”, the maknae whined. “I do, Innie”, Hyunjin chuckled at the heated discussion that broke out about the bird bread that would fit him best, “Thank you.”

It took a few minutes for Chan to calm the maknae-line down, without agreeing on a certain bread. “How long is it till your next treatment?”, the leader asked. Counting in his head, the younger replied: “Four more days or considering today is mostly over, three days.” – “Well, how about we go for sushi during lunch tomorrow? My treat. It’s you favorite, so you can enjoy some delicious food while you can still stomach it”, the oldest offered. An excited smile spread on Hyunjin’s face and he nodded, as it had been a while since he had sushi. “Good, you need to eat well to give your body the energy it needs. You’ve been losing too much weight lately”, Minho approved, nudging his dongsaeng’s knee. Wordlessly walking over, Jeongin dropped himself on Hyunjin’s lap before announcing: “Well, now that that’s settled, as the maknae I call dips on cuddles.” – “Yah! I do not agree with this line of argument!”, Felix yelled frustrated. Soon the entire group was piled up together cuddling their sick dancer. “Thank you, guys. I wouldn’t know what to do without you”, he sniffled getting emotional from all the affection he was receiving. Chan just squeezed him a bit tighter and whispered: “You don’t have to think about that because you will always have us by your side.” – “Promise?” – “Promise! Every step of the way.”

[shotgun--rider]

Daylight

 A Dean x Reader oneshot

Dean finds a letter addressed to him from Y/N, and finds a lot more in her honest words than he was expecting. 

Word count: 4100

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood, extraordinarily fluffy smut, Dean panics a lot

*Female reader, she/her pronouns used in Dean’s POV

A/N: This wouldn’t leave me alone, so here it is, and boy is it aggressively sweeter and softer than intended.

Dean tears open drawers with panicked abandon, hearing the crashing sounds of Sam doing the same to the other side of Y/N’s bedroom. There’s no time to worry about sending her research notes flying, about the haphazard pile of her underwear when he dumps her drawers on the floor. It has to be here. It has to be. 

“Dean, there’s nothing here!”

A glance over his shoulder shows Sammy’s eyes wide with the same terror that’s eating up his chest, her room looking like the aftermath of a hurricane and nothing to show for it.

“Damn it, keep looking!”

The image of Y/N doubled over the bathroom sink, choking up blood, is burned into his brain, and the knowledge that Cas is staying with her is the only thing keeping him here, instead of at her side. 

“Who the hell even got in here with a hex bag?” Sam demands, one of his arms snaking under the mattress desperately. 

“I don’t know, okay? We’ll figure it out later. After we save Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing.” Sam’s hands fly up to his hair for a moment, turning a slow circle as his eyes rake the bedroom for anything they haven’t been through yet. “Dean, there’s nothing here.”

“There has to be,” Dean retorts shortly, running his hand along the upper shelf of the closet. He flat-out refuses to consider any other option in front of Sam, but his brain isn’t getting the message. It’s entirely too easy to picture her sprawled out on the tile of the bunker bathroom, blood staining her mouth with her E/C eyes staring up at nothing. And it’s not like he’s lacking in material for inspiration, having seen her in all manner of near-dead positions on hunts before, giving him a heart attack every damn time. 

But Cas has always been there to heal her, to brush his fingers against her forehead and melt away every life-threatening wound. And this time is infinitely more terrifying, because even an angel can’t just undo witches’ spells. Dean swallows hard, turning to attack the bedside table even though Sam had already dumped out the little drawer. 

“Dean!”

Dean’s head snaps up, almost tripping over himself trying to get to the doorway. “Cas? Cas, is she--”

The angel is suddenly in front of him, holding the familiar looking small brown bag. “It was in the library,” he says simply, catching it on fire with a simple flick of his hand.  His hand lands on Dean’s shoulder, then, smiling with a gentle look in his blue eyes. “She’s fine, Dean.”

Relief first, and then the familiar ache of guilt. There wouldn’t have ever been anyone coming for her if he hadn’t been the one to let her start hunting in the first place. Wordlessly, he throws his best attempt at a smile in Cas’s direction, turning back into Y/N’s bedroom. 

“Go check on her,” he tells Sam roughly, an unidentifiable catch in his throat. Y/N certainly doesn’t need him hovering around at the end of a mess he hadn’t even managed to fix. “I’m gonna clean up.”

Sam stares at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re gonna...clean up?” he echoes. 

“What?” Dean shrugs, trying his best for an air of nonchalance. 

Sam just shakes his head, apparently giving up on his brother’s weirdness and following Cas back in the direction of the bunker’s bathroom. 

Dean clears his throat roughly, in a vain attempt to get rid of the lump that seems stuck there, and sighs. The bedroom is a complete mess, and, truthfully, cleaning it is the last thing he's interested in. Still, in the moment, it feels like a safer option than facing Y/N, so he bends forward, gathering up some of the scattered papers he’d knocked out of the closet. 

There’s a sheet of notebook paper on top of the haphazard stack when he taps it against the edge of the desk, trying to get them in some semblance of order. It’s folded in half, off-center, and would have been completely unobtrusive but for the scrawl of his name on the front, in her familiar handwriting. 

Dean pauses, setting the stack down on the desk and lifting the sheet slowly, glancing once over his shoulder out of habit before unfolding it. His face scrunches up in surprised confusion almost immediately, smoothing out into something that matches the gut-punch feeling in his chest as he continues reading. 

Dean,

I know you don’t want to hear this, but I needed to get it out of my head and put it down somewhere. I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you, anyway. It’s not like you’re going to read this. 

You break my heart, Dean Winchester. (I can hear you laughing, telling me to stop being dramatic. “It’s not a chick flick, Y/N.” Shut up.) You are strong and kind and selfless in so many ways, and you put yourself last to save everybody else and you always find some way to take the blame. But it’s not your fault, Dean. It’s not. You’re good enough, as you are, and the fact that you can’t see you the way we do breaks my heart. 

Everyone around you loves you so much, Dean--me, Sam, Cas, you’ve even grown on Meg. And you don’t have to save the world. I know experience would beg to differ, but I promise, you don’t. Not at your own expense and not by yourself, and it’s okay if the only person you can save right now is you. 

It’s okay to choose yourself. It’s okay to want someone else to choose you. And I promise you that you won’t hurt them, Dean. Seriously. You won’t. 

I hope you find something that makes you happy. And I hope I get to be there to see it. 

Love,

Y/N

Further down, the writing is  slanted and rushed, a desperate addition, an afterthought, maybe a prayer. 

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.

Let it go, Dean. There’s still daylight here, let it go. 

----

You’re in the kitchen when Dean walks in, in search of a sandwich and trying in vain to fend off Cas. “There you are,” you smile brightly at him. “I thought my closet might have swallowed you. Sam said you were cleaning up, I don’t know what possessed you to even try--” You cut yourself off, annoyance creeping onto your features as you reach up to knock Cas’s fingers away from your forehead for what has to be the fourth or fifth time. “Cas, I’m fine. But I am hungry. So move,”

The angel fixes you with a concerned look in his blue eyes. “I just want to be sure--”

“Cas,” you stare hard at him, unblinking. “Go do some research or something before you drive me crazy,” 

He leaves in a flutter of wings with an expression of mixed confusion and frustration as he vanishes, and you sigh, calling a half-sarcastic, “I love you!” to the empty room before turning your attention to Dean. 

“So, to be clear, the closet did not eat you,”

Dean’s mouth twists like he’s trying to smile but it’s gotten stuck somewhere. “Nah,” he says, his voice an octave lower than you were expecting. “Are you okay?”

You shrug, letting out a quiet victory squeak when you finally find where someone has jammed the loaf of bread, all the way in the back of the fridge. “Cas burned the hex bag, I’m good.” And to you, that’s all it is. You’ve been hunting for years; a little hex bag encounter is far from the worst that’s happened to you. And once you caught your breath and wiped the blood off of your lips, it was done. 

“I wonder if there’s a hidden health benefit to puking blood,” you muse absently, debating between mayo and mustard. “Like, they say crying is actually good for your skin, so…” 

Dean is staring at you with a pained expression, and you trail off, blinking at him. “What’s up with you?”

“You almost died, Y/N,” his voice still sounds rougher than usual. 

“Yeah.” You smile at him in a way that you hope is reassuring. “Kinda. But I didn’t. This is a typical Tuesday for us, Dean, what are you...” You let the question hang in the air, unfinished, as you study his face. “Oh, and don’t go thinking it’s somehow your fault. I know you,”

“Yeah, I...kinda got that,”

“What?” 

Dean’s hand reaches into the pocket of his jeans (which, incidentally, do amazing things for his ass) and then he’s pulling out a folded up piece of lined notebook paper and oh. Oh, damn.

His tongue slides out to wet his bottom lip nervously, and you have to make an effort not to watch like a hypnotized creep, and then he flashes you that smile that he sometimes tries on the diner waitresses. The one that says I’m trying to be confident but I’m actually awkward as all hell right now. “It, uh, had my name on it,” he says after a beat, offering it to you like he thinks you’re going to want it back.

Well, it was always for him anyway. Even if part of you wanted to shrivel up and die in embarrassment now that you knew he knew. “You can keep it, Dean. It’s for you.”

He sets it down on the table anyway, leaning one hip next to it and blinking like a deer in the headlights. “Y/N, I--”

You clear your throat. “I hope it wasn’t too awful. I don’t really remember what I wrote.” That’s kind of a lie, especially when it comes to the later two additions, but oh well. 

“No, it-it was good,” Dean’s hand twitches like he’s about to reach toward you, and he curls it into a fist instead. “When did you…”

The question trails off but you know what he’s asking. Blowing out a breath, you abandon your half-made sandwich and reach for the paper on the table instead, unfolding it and sliding closer to Dean. “I wrote this the night after the case at Sonny’s,” you tell him quietly. “I was so damn mad---you were a kid, Dean, you didn’t--” you shake your head, refocusing your thoughts. “I had all these thoughts running around my head and I knew I was going to end up screaming them all at you in the middle of the library one day if I didn’t put them somewhere. I didn’t ever expect you to actually read it.”

 You suck in a breath of surprise as Dean moves to stand behind you, one arm sliding around your waist. It’s entirely unexpected and sends a shiver at the contact running though your entire body, but somehow it feels natural. It’s as if some barrier between the two of you has broken with this letter, and you can’t find it in yourself to mind. By the time his chin finds its way to the top of your head, peeking down at the letter with you, you’ve relaxed into his hold, the solid warmth of him at your back. 

You tap the sheet of paper with one short fingernail, over the words you’d scrawled on repeat, echoing the prayer in your head. Hold on. “That’s from when we were looking for you. Demon you.” You can joke about it now, sort of, so you smirk, wishing you could see his face. “Your little summer of love with Crowley?”

Dean huffs petulantly and tightens his arms around you, and you can picture his pink lips turning into a pout. “It was not,”

“Uh huh, whatever you say,” 

Dean stays silent for a moment, absorbing the information and continuing to hang onto you, and then poses one last question. “What’s the daylight thing from?”

That one’s never going to be funny, and you exhale. “The Mark, after Charlie...you wouldn’t talk to any of us and I just wanted you to know it wasn’t all darkness, you know?”

Dean shudders on a breath behind you, and suddenly you need to see his face. He lets you turn around in his arms, now with the kitchen table against your back, and some bolder part of you slides your hands up to link behind his neck. His green eyes are shining with not-quite-tears as he looks at you, biting off words before he can start speaking. Finally, he settles on familiar ground. Teasing. “So I break your heart, huh?”

You smirk back at him. “Only when you’re stupid.”

He pouts, adorably, and you resist the urge to kiss it off of his face. “When you don’t accept that you deserve good things,” you clarify, leaning closer because Dean is like a goddamn magnet and what are you doing. “That’s just not correct.” The words are spoken a hair’s breadth from his lips, your breath ghosting over them, and Dean closes the gap a heartbeat later.

It’s a hesitant press of his lips on yours, feeling you out like he’s not entirely sure he’s going to be welcome here, and it still feels like being lit up on fire. You’re fully aware that five seconds of kissing this man has turned you into a goddamned cliche, but as you push up on your toes to kiss him back harder, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Your enthusiasm is all the encouragement Dean needs, and you squeak against his lips as his hands find your hips to boost you up onto the tabletop, parting your legs for him to stand between them as his hand comes back up to tangle into your hair. His other slides up your thigh, thumb grazing over the inside seam of your jeans, and you shiver in spite of yourself. 

Finally breaking away to breathe, Dean moves down to press open mouthed kisses in a trail down your neck, pulling a gasp out of you. “Dean,” you murmur, your fingers raking through his short hair. “Dean,”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” The words are more a vibration against your skin than anything spoken aloud.

“I don’t--mmmh--want to be having sex on the counter when your brother walks in,”

Dean pulls back to look at you, all messy hair and blown pupils, and even though it’s what you wanted, you can’t help but already miss his touch. “Good point,” he rasps out, and before you have any time to react, slides his hands under your thighs to lift you off of the table and into his arms 

“Don’t drop me,” you manage, your ankles locking automatically around his back and your hands tight on his shoulders. “Please,”

Dean chuckles, low, and catches your mouth in a messy kiss that leaves you breathless. “Wouldn’t dare,”

Somehow, you both make it to the door with the gold 11 on it without running into any walls or any of the bunker’s other occupants, which is no small miracle, all things considered. Dean wrestles the door open with his other hand still supporting your weight, dropping you onto the mattress with a hungry look that says he’s going to claim every inch of you. 

You reach your hands out to him impatiently, wanting him closer, wanting to touch. You’re certainly not complaining about the view, but you’ve been looking at him for years. An annoyed noise comes out of your throat when he doesn’t immediately comply, instead smiling down at you with an expression that’s no less passionate, but somehow more gentle than a few moments before. 

Dean comes to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand tracing an aimless path up your ankle and calf, apparently ignoring the sizeable bulge in his own jeans. “Shh, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you to sit up and peels you out of your clothes almost reverently, discarding them across his bedroom floor until you’re left in just the plain underwear you’d put on that morning, and you can hear his breath catch when he looks at you. 

Every other guy you’d ever slept with got both of you naked like it was a speed competition, treating the whole thing as purely physical. Which you supposed it was, given that every other guy you’d slept with had been briefly vetted over the course of a few beers and then picked up out of whatever bar you were in that night. Hunter-style hookups. No strings attached.

But Dean is looking at you like you’re something otherworldly, and while you’re not sure you deserve it, it brings a warm feeling to your chest that has nothing to do with the sensation of him licking his way over your breasts and down to the line of your underwear. He pauses there, his fingertips sliding just under the waistband, and looks up at you with those reverent green eyes for permission. 

“Dean, just hurry up,” you tell him, impatience running through your voice. You’re already flushed and panting, probably looking like a complete wreck spread out over his sheets, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 

Then suddenly his tongue is licking a stripe directly over your cunt without any warning and an involuntary cry escapes you at the sensation. So much for not scarring anyone else in the bunker, you think wryly, and then all rational thought flees your brain as Dean slides a finger inside you, busying his tongue with rapid little flicks over your clit. “Oh god, Dean, fuck,” 

Your hand flies down to clutch at his head as he slides a second finger in to join the first, just enough sense left to remind yourself not to mindlessly suffocate him against your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming and still somehow not enough, keeping you right on the edge without sending you over, and underneath it all there’s still an undercurrent of gentleness that takes your breath away in a whole other way. “I can’t--please, I--” you pant out, no longer sure if you’re even making sense. 

Dean hums softly, the vibration running through you, and your hips buck up involuntarily in search of more friction. His mouth moves to suck your clit between his lips, his fingers curling inside you at the same time, and you fly apart with a shout, your head falling back and your entire body tensing through what has to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Not that you’re going to tell him that.

“Jesus, Dean,” you breathe out when you can see straight again. “Just...Jesus.” 

Dean chuckles softly, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness, and he seems perfectly content in spite of narrowly surviving being squeezed to death between your thighs. A few more of your brain cells come back online, and suddenly you’re staring at him in puzzlement. “Why are you still dressed?”

He takes that as his cue to climb off of the bed and strip, and all of those damn layers end up making it a teasing show for you even if that wasn’t his goal. Dean shrugs out of the flannel first, then strips off the shirt underneath and unbuckles his belt. By the time he’s left standing in just his boxers, you’re unashamedly two seconds from drooling and he’s painfully too far away from you. 

Dean drops the boxers before coming back to kneel over you, his cock rock hard against his stomach. You’d never thought about a man’s junk as “beautiful” before, but it’s the word that comes to mind as you reach out to wrap your hand around him, thumb swiping over the tip and watching him shudder in response. Instead of letting you continue, though, he pulls your hand away, lacing his fingers in both of yours and resting your linked hands above your head as he leans forward to kiss you. 

It’s sweet, unexpected but perfect, and when he finally slides inside you, leaving you both gasping at the feeling, it seems dangerously close to making love. Dean gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him filling you up, only moving after your hips have rocked up into him, urging him on. 

Somehow you’d thought that being carried through the bunker, all tangled tongues and occasionally teeth, had set the stage for something wild. Or maybe that was just you projecting your assumptions of what Dean would be like in bed. And you had no doubt he could be, but this was...soft. Slow, no matter how much you tried to urge him faster, and you lost yourself in the slide of his cock, the rhythm of his body against you, the feeling of his hands holding onto yours.

He was watching you with an expression that was half lust and half love, the slow roll of his hips hitting just right inside you, and a low groan rips out of his throat when you tighten your walls around him. “Come for me, baby,”

Dean releases one of your hands to slip between your bodies, his thumb flicking over your clit in time with a sharper snap of his hips, and it shatters you. The slow build has you flying apart screaming, clinging to Dean like he’s the only thing left holding you together as your orgasm breaks over you in waves. 

He follows you over the edge a few moments later, falling forward to press his lips to yours with an expression of pure, blissed-out pleasure on his face. For a while, neither of you move, lost in the moment and not quite capable of higher brain function. 

Eventually, Dean pulls back to look at you with a goofy grin on his lips, pulling a startled laugh out of you at the expression, and you clean up and rearrange yourselves smiling like a pair of fools, which, you suppose, you kind of are. 

Afterward, you lay curled into Dean’s side, legs tangled together and your hand resting over his heart and his anti-possession tattoo while his fingertips trace random patterns over your hip. He’s the first one to break the silence, tilting his head to look at you with warm green eyes. He’s close enough that you could probably count the freckles dashed across his face, but he’s distracting you with words instead. “You make me happy,” he says, voice low, and you’re suddenly reminded of the last wish you wrote in that letter.

“Good,” you say stoutly, warmth ballooning in your chest at the words. Dean already looks awkward and slightly red at the little confession, though, and you’re not going to drag more emotions out of him. You lean up briefly, planting a quick little peck on his lips, and snuggle back down against him, just existing in your own little world for a brief, precious moment. 

----

Dean wakes up alone. Instinctive panic is choking him as he scrambles up, his still half-asleep mind wondering automatically if she’s safe, if something has gotten to her. 

Closer inspection of his bedroom floor would have shown him that wherever she was, she was wandering around without any of her clothes, and thus probably hadn’t gotten that far, but Dean doesn’t bother thinking that through. He shoves his legs into a pair of sweats that are slung over the back of the desk chair, almost falling flat in his rush, and bursts out into the hallway. 

His green eyes are wild and his hair is still styled with the aftermath of sex and sleep, and Sam’s startled reaction to seeing him tear his way into the war room shouldn’t come as a surprise. 

“Morning,” Sam says dryly, looking over his brother from head to toe. “Dean--what?”

“Have you seen Y/N?” Dean gets out through the panic that’s suddenly thick in his chest. 

“She’s outside,” Sam gestures up the bunker stairs to the door, shrugging in a way that suggests that all of this is completely casual. “Dude, what--”

Dean’s already gone, up the bunker stairs and out the door still shirtless and barefoot, and there she is. All of the knots in his stomach are washed away in an instant, looking at her on the bunker’s concrete front step. She’s safe. She’s okay. 

She’s just wearing his flannel, the material drowning her hands and falling to her thighs, and she’s barefoot too. She turns at the sound of him opening the door, coffee mug in hand, and her eyes light up when they land on him. “Look, Dean,” she says with a sunny smile, and he can breathe again. Y/N tilts her head to the sky, hair stirring in the breeze against her borrowed flannel collar, and she’s looking at the peach and purple sunrise painting the sky when she speaks. “Daylight.”

He’s looking at her. 

[ayo-cowbelly]

Maybe - Captain Rex x Reader

*All POV’s will be female unless requested otherwise*

So.... I’m in the mood for angst. This idea has been in my head for days, and I’ve been listening to a lot of instrumental soundtracks lately, which only fueled this (lots of Across the Stars and Burying the Dead). Eventually I decided to just sit down and write it.  Got pretty into italics with this one. It’s kinda long. Also this is the first time I’ve posted something like this, so I hope you like it :)

Part two can be found here!

Y/n: Your name

Y/l/n: Your last name

masterlist

***

You walked the never-ending halls of the Resolute, a neutral expression on your face. Your mental shields were strong, or as strong as they could be. You weren’t really sure if you were fooling anyone. 

Hopefully you were, because if people (namely, other Jedi) sensed your inner turmoil, things could go horribly wrong; after all, Jedi don’t feel this way. They don’t spend their nights crying silently, hoping that nobody hears. They don’t simultaneously curse and cherish their memories with a particular person. Jedi do not have broken hearts. 

Because a broken heart could mean you broke up with someone. And to do that, it usually means you fell in love. 

And Jedi do not fall in love. 

Except... when they do.

*** 

It started two years ago, when the war had just begun. When you had first stepped foot onto the Venator-class starship that would soon become your home. When you met him.  Your captain, CT-7567. Rex. 

“Hello, Captain.”

“General.” 

“Sorry, do you have a preferred name? Seems we should get to know each other a bit.” 

“It’s Rex, General.” 

“Well, Rex, I look forward to working with you.”

“And I you, Sir.” 

That’s where it all started- and eventually ended.

***

The war was hard on everyone. You watched as the people you knew so well started to- well, change. Anakin seemed angrier, Obi-Wan more stressed, and you… you seemed, for lack of a better word… hollow. The men dying all around you, your order seemingly breaking (you were never meant to be soldiers, yet you lead men who had never known anything else), it felt like you were being crushed on the inside. Yet, you had him. 

He was there. 

Whether it was quiet talks in the night, locked eyes in the briefing room, or a lingered touch in a turbulent LAAT/i, he was there. The war escalated and the world changed and sometimes it felt like your soul was on fire with pain- but he was there, until he wasn’t. 

Eventually it really was too much. The war put a strain on an already fragile relationship (Jedi are not meant to fall in love). The threat of you being caught had always loomed heavily on both your heads. You would be expelled from the only family you’d ever known… and he would be court-martialed, or worse- decommissioned. The thought of the man you loved being cast aside and killed for following his heart plagued you with fear. 

Fear was not the Jedi way.

You started fighting. Little things, that sometimes exploded into larger issues. The survivors’ guilt and the stress of so many battles (you never knew what the next day would bring; could one of your names be added to the list of remembrances? You didn’t know… and didn’t want to, ever) made you both edgy and it was hard to discuss it without conflict. 

Your relationship burned bright for so long until it crumbled. 

“So, that’s it then? A year, and then… we’re just… done?” 

“I think that would be best, Sir.” 

“Don’t! Don’t call me that! Not now! Right now, I’m just Y/n, and you’re just Rex. You and me! What happened to that?” 

“It’s not right, General-” “Stop calling me that!” 

“It’s what you are! You’re the general, and I’m the captain. Jedi and clone. That’s all it ever should have been, and it has to go back to that.” 

You were supposed to be the composed one… but your emotions were spiraling and gripped your heart. “I won’t let it.” 

“You don’t get to decide that, Sir.” 

“Rex, I-” You choked out, but couldn’t finish. You didn’t even know what to say. What would fix it? 

You just watched as he put his helmet back on and left your room quietly. 

With your head in your hands, you tried, really tried, to repress the tears- until you couldn’t. 

***

If your Co-General and Commander noticed your changed demeanor, they were kind enough not to mention it. You and Anakin used to have a game, of sorts, of who could get away with the craziest maneuvers on the battlefield without an injury- whether it be jumping out of a flying LAAT/i, taking on a whole droid squad alone, or grabbing onto a rocket droid like a speeder. You and Ahsoka would team-up and tease Anakin together pretty often around the ship. But that all changed. 

You wouldn’t take on as many droids alone- something Kix was probably happy about. The crazier ideas all came from Anakin, the more “sane” (as the rest of the legion would call it) plans came from you. Ahsoka would poke fun at Anakin while you watched with a forced almost-smile. Actually, that forced content on your face was probably your most common expression these days.

Life took on a grayer hue. 

So, you worked on shielding and repressing, keeping your pain hidden until the dead hours of the night. 

***

Were the hallways smaller, now? It felt like it. Every turn, every corridor, no matter where you went, it felt like he was always there. Somehow, you ran into him everywhere, with a shallow nod and the slightest of glances. 

 2 years. Strangers. Friends. Lovers… Then strangers again. 

It was a cruel cycle. 

***

For a while, you had thought about requesting a battalion to lead alone. At the beginning of the war, you had been assigned to co-lead the 501st due to your familiarity with Anakin- both Crechemates and eventually Padawans with your masters as good friends, you spent a lot of time together growing up. The Council felt it would be good to have their resident loose-cannon lead a legion with another, to make sure he didn’t go too off the rails.

 What the Council hadn’t realized was that yes, while you were the more rational of the pair, you enjoyed Anakin’s crazy plans- most of the time. Sometimes, they really were insane, which was where you stepped in. 

A bonus of being assigned to the same legion was that you met Ahsoka. The young Togruta sometimes felt like your own Padawan, and you adored her. She was endlessly curious and brave, and wise beyond her years. And you grew even more proud of her as she grew up. 

Now, she was older, and more experienced- and as she came into her own, you realized you weren’t always needed anymore. Granted, the missions were sometimes shorter and had more solid planning due to having an extra Jedi General around, but your presence was no longer a necessity. Anakin and Ahsoka would do just fine without you. Besides, leading a legion as large as the 501st meant you had to watch more and more clones be taken with every battle. The longer the war went on, the more recruits there were (who seemed to be getting younger all the time). 

And even though it was selfish, with your own legion you wouldn’t have to be around Him all the time. Maybe it’d be nice, to be away from him; maybe you could heal without the pain of it all filling you when you saw him. Maybe.

You could handle your own battalion. You were capable, and more than ready. You knew this, but didn’t necessarily like it. 

***

Eventually, you reached a decision. It was the last thing you wanted, to leave Him; you loved him fiercely, still. Yet, leaving was what you needed. You had to be at your best to lead the troops, and lately, your best was sloppy. It was time to reign in your emotions and gain control again. 

Of course, nothing was final, but the feeling of something ending echoed around you. 

The last time eating in the mess with the men who almost felt like brothers. 

The last time going through a briefing with your Co-General, watching Admiral Yularen’s face fill with exasperation and irritation as Anakin laid out a daring plan. 

The last time you met His warm Golden-Brown eyes in the halls. 

Your comm chirped, and you ducked into an empty storage closet to take the call. You were met with Masters Yoda and Windu’s holographic forms. 

“Something you wanted to discuss, you had, young Y/l/n?” 

“Yes, Master Yoda.” 

***

A week later, you stood in the briefing room with the usual command crew: Anakin, Ahsoka, Admiral Yularen, and Him. 

Deep breaths, Y/n. In, and out. “I called this meeting because I have some… news, and I thought you should be the first to know.” You glanced around at them, swallowing. “I’ve requested to lead my own battalion- and it’s been granted.” Letting that sink in, you continued: “I’m leaving at 0800 tomorrow morning, in my fighter. I’ll head to Coruscant, where I’ll meet the men, and then we’ll ship out sometime next week.” 

Silence. 

Anakin was the first to speak. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“I’m getting my own battalion. I requested it a few days ago.” 

“Why?” You heard the growing anger in your friend’s voice and decided to tread carefully.

“Anakin, you don’t need me here anymore. Ahsoka’s more than qualified to lead the 501st with you, and with the war- there’s more and more troops who need leading, and not enough Jedi to do it. But I can, and I have to; It’s my duty. The Council agreed with me.” 

“Y/n, when did you talk to the Council about this?” 

“A few days ago- but it’s been on my mind for a while.” You said gently. You didn’t meet His eyes, didn’t even look over there; if you did, your resolve would crumble. You just kept your gaze on Anakin, occasionally looking to Ahsoka. She looked surprised, and a bit sad, but understanding. Anakin looked… well, it was wise to be cautious of your tone. 

“Do you know where you’ll ship off to?” Ahsoka asked politely. 

“Not yet, but I’ve heard that it might be Cato Neimodia, or maybe Anaxes. I can’t be sure, though.” You looked down. “I just thought you all should know first.” 

“Well, best of luck, General. It’s been an honor.” Admiral Yularen nodded at you, then went out to the bridge. Eventually, Anakin and Ahsoka left too, the latter guiding her Master with a soft hand on his arm. 

That left you and the Captain. Alone, for the first time in weeks. 

“So… your own battalion. That’s… big news,” He said quietly. “I know you’ll do well.” 

“Thanks, Rex,” You practically whispered. “I’ve enjoyed our time together,” You met his eyes briefly, barely keeping the floodgate of emotions at bay. “I’ll miss working with you.” I love you. I love you more than anything. 

He nodded. “And I you, General.” 

***

You left that next morning, with your men watching from the hangar. His presence, the one you had treasured and held onto like a lifeline... the one that got you through the worst of it all, the one you had loved (and still did, so much), stayed behind, slowly fading from the forefront of your mind. 

It’s for the best. 

Maybe you’d start to heal. 

Maybe. 

Fin. 

[tfw-no-tennis]

ani....morphs.....

ok so picking up after the david trilogy, which hit hard as FUCK, we have book 23, which basically was a semi truck that ran over my corpse, jesus christ, they really followed up the david trilogy w/all that....

23 was so so good and also painful. its the culmination of a lot of tobias’s characterization in the series thus far and also we finally get the reveal we’ve been waiting for about elfangor....ooooh man 

and there was a lot of painful stuff in this book but the worst imo was tobias wondering if it were possible that somebody wanted him and would take care of him, only to have it all come crashing down in the worst way when it turned out aria was visser three in morph, ouch. 

that was so brutal augh. and when he figured it out and just crash landed and kept thinking about how he wanted to die and how he was stupid to think he could have a home...bro get these kids some THERAPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

so yeah that book was absolutely brutal but also so good...and it further fleshed out the animorphs working as a near-flawless team, w/the whole setup of tobias meeting w/the lawyer being so airtight and well-planned 

also more free hork bajir!! its cool that there's stuff happening w/them offscreen, I like that 

I literally had to take a break from reading the books bc the david triology + 23 was like so much, and also bc the olympics were on and all my time got dedicated to watching those, but then I opened 24, not sure what to expect, and BAM it was the helmacrons lmaoooo

I don't even remember the helmacrons but ig a lot of people hate them? lmao so that whole reputation preceded the book and I was like oh wow time for a change in tone

which wasn't wrong but also I liked that book?? I was never bored, even tho the whole thing was patently ridiculous and also had very little bearing on the overarching story

but I think it would be a standout if it were a TV episode w/a good budget - the visuals were amazing even in text, and I can imagine all the cool shrinking/growing/cellular stuff would be WICKED cool visually (ideally 2d animation but an ant man-esque live action adaptation wouldn't be terrible if they had the budget for it)

whatever let me dream. so yeah I didn't hate the helmacron book even tho the helmacrons themselves were...sure something. lmao I think they come back? that should be interesting

next book is the arctic one, we have yet another alien of the week style adventure - I liked this one too, it felt like more plot-y stuff happened since they destroyed the base, and marco’s POV is always fun 

I do find it funny/interesting how sometimes when the animorphs do something - like in this book, destroying that base in the arctic - it doesn't really seem to impact the yeerks much/it doesn't get brought up much after that. and then other things like them destroying the ground-based kandrona get mentioned a lot (that example is understandable tho bc that WAS a big deal). its just hilarious to me how blowing up entire building complexes has become so routine that it isn’t even worth mentioning at this point

Also I adore when they meet other random people/kids and are chill w/them, like w/that kid they met in the rain forest earlier on w/the time travel 

the descriptions of the brutally cold weather were great. I hate the cold so I was like oof this is a nightmare lmao

also ig that was the first ghostwritten book and I did kinda notice it was slightly different than usual? maybe? I could be imagining it tho 

okay but book 26 tho...BOOK 26. bruh 

that was SO good and I really didn’t know what to expect - but when we finally revisited Jake’s dream w/crayak I knew it was gonna be good (but I didn’t expect it to be a chess game war epic..!)

basically I loved it. SUCH a good Jake book - I really appreciate his character now as opposed to when I was 10 and often overlooked him (sorry jake).

similarly, when I was a kid and read these I sympathized a lot w/the chee and felt bad for them towards the end of the series when they had to get more involved in the war (genuinely don’t remember what they even do but ik I felt bad) 

but now I've basically 180′d and I'm like damn those chee sure are hypocrites huh. 

like they could solve So many of the animorphs problems but their stringent adherence to nonviolence leads to them actively getting in the animorphs way sometimes? and obviously pacifism is a complicated topic, but in this case it also intersect w/the whole ‘child soldier’ thing, and as beings who are insanely old and wise, the chee probably shouldn't just leave all the dirty work to a bunch of literal middle schoolers

aaaaanyways. there’s so much I love about this book. the iskoort! they were sure something. and the ‘plot twist’ that they are actually 2 beings, the Isk and the Yoort - and the Yoort are essentially Yeerks - that slapped. the symbiosis of it all! 

I loved the part where they all realize what this means, that this is why Crayak wants the iskoort destoryed - because someday the yeerks might come across them and realize parasitism is not the only way. I love it! 

alas I don’t recall the iskoort returning in the story (but also my memory is terrible so who knows?) but still that would be cool

basically I feel like this is the book where Jake Truly comes into his own as a leader, in every sense. he outmaneuvers Crayak, and even the ellimist, who’s yanking them around in his own way

the scene where jake shoves the howler off the cliff and jumps off and morphs and acquires the howler...that was fantastic and tense. 

also the murder is definitely becoming more overt. I mean, it has been for a while, but it isn’t really pointed out as much anymore. oof

more on the chee - as Jake points out in this book, and other characters point out in other books - the chee could have saved the pemalites, but instead just stood by while their creators were slaughtered. on the other hand, jake says, what do the chee do AFTER they’ve killed the howlers - where to point them next? when is the end of their violence? 

buuuuut also standing by while atrocities occur is pretty damning, as is frequently mentioned in this series - from the very beginning, when marco initially doesn’t want to get involved in the war at all, and the other animorphs basically tell him that turning his back on the war and acting like he doesn’t even know it’s happening would be immoral and cowardly (which imo this reaction helps to push marco in the direction he ends up going, but I digress) - this topic comes up again in 19 when cassie quits the team and rachel is upset bc she sees it as cassie elevating her own feelings above the greater good (as in, as long as cassie feels good about how she acts, it doesn’t matter how much preventable evil the yeerks are committing while she turns away). etc etc. but that’s essentially what’s happening w/the chee - even tho they help w/intel, the lack of any sort of Action on their part means that they’re essentially allowing awful things to happen when they could prevent them. this is rambly but basically...animorphs deals so much in grey areas, and the chee are noticeably black and white in their actions, despite falling, in a meta sense, in an extremely grey area. its such good, thought provoking writing!

anywayssss I keep talking about the chee lmao what else was there. oh YEAH jake and cassie kissed for the first time awww that was super cute 

and ofc immediately marco teases them as asks jake if he’s gonna kiss him next, and all I can say is...marco is a bicon 

also I love the background worldbuilding w/the iskoort, how they have all these groups and guilds and stuff - its not dwelled on much, which actually works really well to give the world/species a sense of lived-in realness 

okay oh man and the reveal at the end that the howlers were just like...children who thought the whole thing was a game...AUGHH man that’s sooo fucked 

like, when jake morphs the howler and has rachel ready to knock him down in grizzly morph if he gets out of control due to the howler’s murderous instincts, and he morphs to find that the howler is...playful, like a dolphin morph. SUCH a good fucked up sense of dawning horror there 

and the fact that as far as I can tell the chee KNEW this, but wanted revenge anyways, so they let the animorphs assume that the howlers were Evil On Purpose

also I love smaller moments, like jake seeing that ax is ashamed for briefly running away during one battle w/the howlers, and then entrusts him w/an important task bc he knows that ax will see that as redemption - and when everyone thought jake was dead and were so happy when he wasn't (they all love each other so much im gonna cry about these child soldiers augh)

basically that book was so good

man one thing I absolutely love is that the longer the series goes on the more obvious it is that andalites, despite inventing morphing technology, barely use it themselves 

like, most of the andalite characters we see barely morph. its kind of a last resort to them, as they’re already plenty dangerous in their regular forms 

meanwhile for the animorphs, that’s all they have to fight with. that’s their only weapons against the yeerks, and its so fun to see them use the power in so many varied ways, and so creatively, while the andalites have barely scratched the surface of their own technology

its also interesting to contrast against the yeerks who start out w/absolutely no technology, and the andalites share some but not all of their technology w/them...its too bad that morphing technology was just starting out cause that would’ve been interesting

like imo a lot of the conflict w/the yeerks could’ve been avoided if they could just nothlit into better forms - of course, there’d still be plenty of yeerks who want to go start wars or w/e, just like pretty much any species in the series, but a lot of yeerks would probably be like ‘yeah I'm good’ and just chill out as nothlits

also people online love to talk about how humans are alienfuckers and would definitely have sex w/sentient aliens and whatnot, and while I'm not saying that's untrue, its just funny bc in animorphs the truest alienfuckers are definitely the andalites

as of the hork-bajir chronicles, we now have a second instance of an andalite morphing another species to be in an inter-species alien romance (and eventually have kids) 

speaking of, I don’t think I’ve talked abt the hork bajir chronicles yet??? even tho I read it a while ago lmao 

HBC was great...I honestly haven’t really run into an animorphs book I’ve actually disliked at this point, I’m sure it’ll come w/all the ghostwriting and whatnot, but I’ve liked at least some aspects of every book

anyways HBC was great, and it’s funny bc I remember that I read this book as a kid, and yet rereading it now I didn’t remember a single bit of it lmaooo

I really liked the framing device of the free hork bajir telling this story to tobias. I also liked how we know from the beginning that this story wont have a happy ending - we know all the hork bajir end up enslaved by the yeerks, but it’s still somehow hopeful at the end? I think this is largely due to the framing device tbh. 

also I love toby, and I love that the First free hork bajir named their kid after tobias ;_; 

and oooh mannn I LOVED the different POVs from this book. all the characters were so interesting! aldrea was fascinating - I really like the increasingly negative view of the andalites that the readers are getting, all while maintaining the sense that they aren’t like, actively evil, just that they have their issues - like aldrea’s arrogance, and the general andalite arrogance which lead to the loss of the hork bajir. also, who knew andalites had their own brand of sexism? Ls

I did like getting a female andalite tho, that was cool. and dak was really cool, he was such a good, compassionate character who was able to maintain his morals in an interesting way throughout the story

and VISSER THREE...or should I say esplin 9466, because he’s not visser 3 yet...getting his ‘origin story’ was excellent - I really like how we’re learning about visser 3 backwards - we start off the series w/him as the main villain, and he’s campy and menacing, and then we see him in the andalite chronicles as a power-hungry sub-visser trying to climb the ranks and eventually getting alloran as a host, and then back even further here, w/the start of his focus on the andalites and the beginning of his ambition. its been very cool and interesting to see

plus, the beginning of the yeerks as we know them! seerow! alloran! it’s a party and nobody is having a good time, except for some of the yeerks. 

I like how it’s pretty obvious that the andalites are well-meaning with their interactions w/the yeerks, but go about it the wrong way - they give them enough technology that the yeerks realize there’s a whole world out there to experience, and then they blockade the yeerks on their planet and tell them they can’t leave. nnnnot the best approach imo

again, as I said above, I’m interested in how things could’ve gone if the andalites had given the yeerks morphing technology early on - could a lot of the conflict have been avoided, or would it have been worse? the yeerks seem pretty evil in this book, immediately jumping to enslave anyone they can. otoh we hear from esplin that not all yeerks like having host bodies, and find it overwhelming, preferring to swim around in the yeerk pool as a slug - I assume as host bodies became more available this type of thinking was probably stamped out in yeerk society or w/e, but there are a lot of interesting what-ifs in the situation 

I loved the scene where esplin first experiences having a host, and immediately knows he can’t go back. there are a bunch of great sensory descriptions, and it’s a nice scene to pinpoint as a foundational moment for the visser three in the current story, who spent a lot of time and energy getting what he sees as the best possible host body, an andalite

I find it interesting how much visser three clearly respects the andalites, even while constantly deriding them. and you can see the origins of that here as he immediately focuses in on the andalites, working to become an expert on them in order to make himself useful enough to move thru the ranks

another thing I like is how esplin seems a lot more crafty and ambitious than the visser three from modern times - I would guess that reaching his goal (andalite host body) and being given all that power was detrimental, playing on his weaknesses instead of his strengths. basically, I don’t think it’s ooc or anything, I can see how HBC-esplin became animorphs-esplin, especially w/TAC in between

as for seerow...poor dude. you really do have to feel for him, because you get the sense he really did just want to be kind to the yeerks, but it was borne from a place of pity, and he (and the other andalites) consistently held too much power over the yeerks for the species relations to ever be truly equal and functional 

AUGH I have so many thoughts about alien space politics. omg. I need to talk about the actual story lmao

so yeah I also feel for aldrea, she had a rough time, watching her entire family die and being thrown into a hopeless war

and then the andalite council or w/e not listening to her bc she's a girl AND seerow’s daughter...oof

also, I really really liked the running theme of the andalites - specifically aldrea - looking down on the hork bajir as ‘simple’ and constantly underestimating them, especially dak

and I like how this is portrayed as a bad attitude for aldrea to have, and she still remains and interesting and sympathetic character even while having obvious flaws. it’s about being 3-dimensional baby!

and oh man I love that dak realizes that aldrea looks down on him, and his entire species, but he can see that that’s how the andalites are, and it all connects back to the beginning of the story w/the yeerks, bc the andalites looked down on the yeerks and treated them with pity and kept them pinned under their proverbial thumb ‘for their own good’ and look how that turned out 

but dak is wise and kind enough to not hate aldrea for this, even acknowledging when she’s using him, but not pushing her away because he recognizes good in her too - and she ends up changing, partially because of his faith in her

and I feel like it can all be compared to that scenario of like - a hypothetical creature that lives in a 2D world suddenly being thrust into a 3D world, and comprehending what its seeing, and understanding that there’s so much more out there outside of the flat lines of its world - and then its dropped back into 2D-land with the knowledge of all the stuff its missing out on, and no way to get back to it or explain it to anybody else

I loooove that ‘trope’ or w/e you wanna call it, and it’s done beautifully here w/the yeerks - whos the say they wouldn't have been fine in their pool swimming around; as esplin said, a lot of the yeerks were terrified of having a host, it was only from the andalites’ perspective that their lives were sad and pitiful, and the andalites showed them what the world could be like, and then said ‘no, you can’t travel the stars like we do, you have to stay here on your planet and do what we say.’

and then again, w/the hork bajir - dak talks about how, even though he drinks up the knowledge that aldrea gives him, in the end it might have been better to just have lived peacefully, not knowing what was in the sky or the Deep - as aldrea says: “It was too late for Dak: he knew that the stars were not flowers.” 

plus the hork bajir having to go from a completely peaceful species who don’t even understand the concept of violence, to a bunch of soldiers fighting a war...oof 

basically everyone in this story uses the hork bajir. the yeerks use them as hosts, the andalites use their planet as a convenient place to dump seerow and then take their sweet time coming to help, and the arn created them as means to stabilize the planet, but block them off from their society and refuse to help when the yeerks come

like, the arn modifying themselves to be un-infestable by the yeerks and then being enslaved for physical labor instead? oof guys. if they had teamed up w/the hork bajir resistance things might have gone better, but probably not 

more on aldrea - throughout the story I was always thinking ‘how am I supposed to see her? as a good person, or as a bad person?’ 

as a POV character, especially a ‘good guy’ andalite, you just start off automatically thinking of her as a good person, but as the story goes on, she starts getting lost in revenge and begins using dak and the hork bajir, and you’re left wondering if this is a story about her slide into darkness, and then towards the end of the story her character development culminates in her making the decision to stay w/the hork bajir, and the be with dak, and that’s about when I went ‘ohhh right this is animorphs so every character is pretty much gonna be grey’

I feel like that moral grey-ness was on full display w/aldrea, and I really enjoyed that. I love so much when characters who are good do bad things, for good or bad reasons, especially in media like animorphs that’s aimed at kids. it’s so compelling. 

oof, and the ending when aldrea convinces dak to mobilize the hork bajir and teach them violence...and dak asks her if she’s ever killed another andalite, and she’s horrified, and says of course she hasn’t, and he says that that’s what she’s asking him, and all the hork bajir, to do - to kill their own people, even if they are being controlled by the yeerks. biiiig oof. I love that dak can keep up w/aldrea and her andalite supremacy attitude - it seems that the non-andalite characters who get along best w/the andalites are the ones who wont take their bs 

what else happened....oh my god how could I forget about alloran, and his quantum virus. oooof. I like how we find out about alloran in parallel to visser three, in the same backwards way - in animorphs he’s the tragic host of visser three, in TAC he’s the disgraced but still semi-respected war-prince who becomes the first ever andalite controller, and here he’s the guy who decides to commit some war crimes because, hey, we haven’t tried that yet 

but yeah that was fucked up, I love it. I’ve said it before I think but I like that alloran isn’t some perfect martyr tragically taken by the yeerks - it’s a lot more compelling that he’s a very flawed person who was taken as a controller partially due to his own bloodthirstiness. 

but yeah, the part where aldrea morphs alloran and ‘sneaks’ into that room was great. aldrea’s dedication to disposing of the virus is a great indicator of her character development - it really feels like the straw that broke the camels back w/re: to the andalites not being what she thought they were, w/their tardiness coming to help the hork bajir planet and the way her father was treated being the precursors to this realization. it all culminates nicely in aldrea saying ‘fuck this actually’ and nothlit-ing into a hork bajir.

and it’s really tragic but realistic that even though aldrea and dak end up seeing eye to eye at the end and getting together, the virus ends up being released anyways (and fails in its objective to stop the yeerks from using the hork bajir - the whole thing was p much a lose-lose situation oof), and aldrea and dak still die fighting a hopeless war 

but then we have the free hork bajir on earth, including toby, who, like tobias, has andalite ancestry, but no DNA to show for it - I like that they have that connection as well as tobias being her namesake

so yeah I enjoyed that one and its many-layered themes

WOW this got long uuuuuhhh ok I think i’ll leave this one off here. at the time I’m actually finishing the writing and editing, I’m on book 35 lol so I have some backlogging to do. never fear, I have a lot to say....

[mysterylover123]

My Thoughts on the Bleach Pairings (so far)

So since this latest Bleach episode batch was all about the Main romance subplot, I figured I’d provide my thoughts on Bleach’s various pairings, as of where I am right now (Episode 167). 

Now, when I talk about pairings in a show, understand that I have two lenses for doing so. One is my Shipper’s lens; the “I really like these two together, that moment was cute, I’m gonna ship them” POV, which can literally be slapped onto any two characters in any show ever, and the “this is the romantic subplot and I’d like to see how well it unfolds” POV. 

The latter is the one that is usually frustrated and disappointed by the romantic subplots in Shonen anime; while the former can retreat to fanfic to enjoy both preferred pairings and better written versions of official ones, the latter has to examine canon, analyze and sigh over the way characters often get mishandled because shonen authors don’t want to write romance, yet for some reason often do. (props to One Piece alone for just flat out not going there.)

Going into Bleach, I was prepared to experience the same disappointment. It’s the trade-off we accept in Shonen. You expect weak, half-baked romance storylines, and in exchange you get all the good shonen-y things. I was prepared, based on the general fandom opinion, to see the series mishandle poor Orihime and for her relationship with Ichigo to be as underwhelming as any Shonen.

I did not expect Orihime to instantly become my favorite character, but lo and behold that’s exactly what happened

(continued)

So here are my thoughts, as of right now, on the Bleach pairings.

First, let me provide my “Second Lens” thoughts on the two future Official Pairings: Ichi/Hime and Ruki/Renji, as romantic subplots rather than ships: I like them both and think they’re well-developed.

Ruki/Renji have known each other forever, have a nice chemistry and character dynamic, and are very protective of each other. They don’t seem to quite realize their feelings are romantic yet, which explains why they’re not together already, but that’s fine. Ichi/Hime have also known each other since the start, have a good solid connection and care for each other, and have been well-written as a subplot: They’re always important in each others’ storylines, but without either being the center of the other’s. Orihime has relationships that matter outside of Ichigo (Tatsuki, Rukia, her brother, Uryu) and Ichigo, vice versa (Uryu, Rukia, his dad, now Grimmjow and Nel). They are still important to each other and each other’s development, but without it overwhelming either character’s story. That’s all I really ask from a romance subplot in a show and so far Bleach has delivered nicely.

So now my thoughts on all the ships:

Ichigo/Rukia: This is one I so far only see as a BROTP. Perhaps it’s because I’ve only watched the canon stuff, but I just don’t see them romantically. They seem like siblings to me. Like, just for instance, in Ruki’s rescue arc, Ichi spent half the time getting into ego fights rather than putting saving her first, while in Hime’s rescue arc that’s what he’s been focused on the whole time. It’s not that I don’t believe they’re close friends, I just don’t see them as more than that. So far, of course. Something could always change my mind :) 

Tatsuki/Orihime: Definitely one of my favorite pairings for this show. Has been from the start. They haven’t had much screentime lately but I still ship the hell out of them. They’re really cute together.

Ichigo/Uryu: I still do like these two but I’ve cooled on them for two reasons - one, lack of screentime, and two, a possible spoiler I heard that they might be first cousins, which is a bit of a no-no for me. Ah well.

Uryu/Orihime: This one’s OK. One or two cute scenes.

Tatsuki/Ichigo: I really kinda like this rarepair. Another one who’ve known each other forever. 

Ichigo/Orihime: My thoughts on this one as a ship are that they’re cute together but not really my shipping vibe. I tend to prefer a different character dynamic type but I’m totally fine with them being the official pairing. 

Renji/Rukia: This one I really enjoy as a ship as well as “well-written canon romance”. They’re really my style. Bantering but loving childhood friends and all.

Rukia/Orihime: I got really into this one recently. This arc was so shippy with them. All that face touching, friendship, support and sensing each other’s sacrifices and all. 

Renji/Byakuya: This one is kinda popular in the fandom and I kinda shipped it at first. There’s not a lot to work with but I guess I’ll see.

Grimmjow/Ichigo: This one is really popular in the fandom too. I guess I see it a little but it’s not like my usual shonen rival ships (the TDBKDK triangle, Suzalulu, Lawlight, to some extent SNS, Kakavege, etc.) 

Orihime/Ulquiorra: Tthis one is the classic hero/villain kinda deal. I said it had a Phantom of the Opera vibe and I still think so. The tragic potential “could never really be” thing that’s all about exploring the darkness of the hero and the potential light of the villain. Something that’s fun as a ship but not for endgame romance.

Yoruichi/Soi Fun: Me and most of the fandom are clearly convinced these two are married and I believe they’re right.

Hitsugaya/Momo: This one is cute. Heal her heart Hitsu. 

So yeah that’s my thoughts so far. No central definite OTP but a lot that I love and none I dislike.

[gumnut-logic]

Not So Alone (repost)

This is a shameless repost because I haven’t written a thing today. So I poked around in my archive and found some fluff. I chose Alan fluff cos that is what I’ve read a bit of today :D I think this may have been one of the first times I wrote Alan’s POV. I know I remember being a touch terrified :D

Apologies to those who have already read it, I’ll try to write some new stuff tomorrow ::hugs:: My brain has just been mush today :(

-o-o-o-

Title: Not So Alone Author: Gumnut 21 Jun 2019 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS Rating: Teen Summary: Alone time is sometimes better shared. Word count: 1767 Spoilers & warnings: None. Timeline: Standalone Author’s note: This is for @ak47stylegirl​ who wrote me the first part of this little fic, Alone Time, which can be found on her profile on Ao3. She wrote Virgil, so I stepped out of my comfort zone a little and wrote her some Alan to keep her Virgil company :D I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-   

Alan was bored.

It wasn’t often that he found himself with a lack of things to do. Life was generally busy with Thunderbird maintenance, rescues and backup duties.

Of course, he could always kill some zombies, but he was feeling restless. Gordon was off the island with Grandma so that didn’t help. Scott was buried in paperwork and John was still hiding on Five. Virgil had disappeared.

Wandering out onto the balcony, Alan eyed the pool a moment before throwing the idea out. Without Gordon it wouldn’t be anywhere near as much fun.

Maybe he could go for a walk. Scott had been nagging him to get into a more regular exercise routine and, hey, he hadn’t seen the other side of the island for a while.

Darting up to his rooms, he threw on some loose clothes, decent shoes and a hat. A quick note to John to say where he was going and he was out the back door and crunching gravel up the side of the mountain.

While he had no objection to the great outdoors, Alan had no particular preference for sun, surf or bush walking. Not that he didn’t love a splash in the ocean with his brother, or even a jog around the island with Scott, it was just that many of his interests lay in the confines of the virtual world.

Or space.

Part of him didn’t want to admit he was like Johnny, but he was in many ways, but where John adored seclusion, Alan loved people. Basically, Alan was happy doing pretty much anything as long as it was with someone, preferably someone he loved.

So, he would really be lying if he said he took his route at random. It wasn’t a conscious decision, more just what he knew was going to happen regardless.

Virgil had some favourite places on the island to sit and just be. Alan didn’t quite get it any more than he got John’s love of solitude, but he knew his brother liked it and he stored the information for when it was needed.

Today Alan wanted company, so he used the information he had at hand.

Clambering around on the rocky island was not for the faint-hearted. There was no doubt that he was getting a good workout just by going for a simple walk. His first stop was a small cliff beyond Thunderbird Two’s runway. It was Virgil’s favourite, just on the other side of the mountain. He could often be found here just staring out into the ocean thinking who knew what. The scene had been painted, scribbled and, in one case, mosaicked onto a table. This was definitely Virgil’s favourite place.

He wasn’t there.

But Alan still had his list.

Two more Virgil spots proved empty and Alan had managed to work up quite a sweat. He was beginning to wonder why he was even bothering when he caught sight of a figure almost completely hidden in a grove of palm trees.

Virgil sat on a rock, his sketchpad on his lap, completely absorbed in his art. He was up a cliff overlooking a good chunk of the island, the twin peak at an angle even Alan could appreciate.

Alan eyed the climb and with a deep breath began the trek to reach his brother. He kept quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb him. That would be a good way to get his head ripped off. But if he approached from just the right angle, he should be able to see what Virgil was actually drawing.

It took actual rock climbing in a couple of places, but Alan eventually found himself situated behind his brother on top of the cliff, and as expected the view was breathtaking.

It was late afternoon and the entire side of the island was lit up by the sun. Gulls were wheeling in the air above the forested slopes, catching rising air. Far below, raw Pacific collided with the rocky shore in places and wrangled with reefs in others.

Virgil had certainly found a spot.

Quietly Alan made his way closer to his brother. Virgil drew on, showing no sign of knowing Alan was there. The cliff was a slope that had Alan descending towards his brother. Virgil was facing away towards the scenery, slightly hunched as he drew. Because of that slope, Alan was actually able to see his brother’s hand, this time his right, sketching pencil lines on the paper.

For a moment Alan was content to simply watch, but if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t come all this way just to spy on his brother.

“You do know it is rude to stare.”

Virgil’s voice was always soft yet possessed a strength that could be startling. Alan stiffened, annoyed at being caught so easily.

“What? Do you honestly think all that rock clambering would go unnoticed?”

“Dunno.”

His brother had yet to look up at him, simply continuing to sketch as he spoke. You gonna come and sit down?” Virgil held up a hand. “Just be very quiet, I don’t want you to disturb them.”

Alan frowned. “Who?”

But that hand didn’t answer, just beckoned him over.

Alan did what he was told and found himself sitting on that rock beside his older brother.

Virgil was scratching lines furiously onto the page, but the subject wasn’t what he expected. All that beautiful scenery and Virgil was drawing a haphazard pile of sticks?

Whispered. “They’re sea eagles. I’ve never been so close.”

Alan’s eyes darted from the sketchpad to a slither of rock a stone’s throw away from the edge of the cliff. The pinnacle stood alone and defied gravity almost to the point of disbelief. On its very top sat a huge nest. From this angle he could see the two chicks waiting for their parents to return.

Breathed out quiet. “Cool.”

Virgil was sketching madly and under his practised hand, one of the chicks slowly came to life. Simple line instinctively placed, shaded and shaped. It was a little mesmerising.

Alan, of course, had watched Virgil draw before. Amongst all the other things. His brother was usually fiddling with something. He had to have something in his hands, whether it was a pencil or paintbrush, piano or Thunderbird, Virgil tended to always have something playing between his fingers.

When Alan was little there had been many a Kansas winter night snuggled up by the fire, curled up beside his brother watching him draw. Sometimes he would dare him to draw outrageous things like Pedro the Peanut-Killing Pickle. There had been odd stories and scribbled down comics. Alan had even tried his hand under a little encouragement from his brother, but he didn’t have the enthusiasm that Virgil had for the art.

Besides, Alan was quite happy to just sit and watch. Rare quiet moments shared with his artistic brother.

They had been getting rarer and rarer.

“Can I sit with you, Virg?”

A brown eye with an arched eyebrow peered at him. “You’re already sitting.” The curve of a smile. “But sure. Just be quiet and don’t make any sudden moves.”

Respectfully whispered. “Okay.”

So, they sat for an unknown length of time. Virgil drew the second chick, and as one of the parent birds landed with the evening meal, its strong wings, talons and beak appeared on the page. Alan watched as the pencil lines grew darker, surer. Virgil switched pencils and they grew darker still, the birds emerging out of the page into three dimensions.

Down below the two chicks guzzled food from their parent.

A loud, awkward screech from above and another eagle was circling overhead, likely the other parent.

In the corner of the page, the bird quickly appeared, wings spread wide, soaring.

The quiet was amazing. Alan wasn’t one to sit still for any length of time, so perhaps he was missing the obvious, but the sound of Virgil’s pencil, the tease of the breeze and the call of the eagle above had only to compete with the waves far below and the rustle of the scrappy forest.

And a pair of squawking, complaining eagle babies.

Gordon would probably have loved this. His fish brother loved the sea, but he loved all the creatures contained in it even more. Despite this preference for water breathers, if you shoved a puppy or a panda in front of him, the man melted into a gooey puddle. Eagle babies would definitely be on the goo list.

“This is nice, Allie.”

“What?”

“Bit like old times, you sitting and watching me draw.”

Alan shrugged. “I’ve always liked to watch you draw. Guess we haven’t had as much time lately.”

The pencil paused. “Yeah.” His brother turned to look at him. “Well, it is good to see you out here. Nice to have your company.” A gentle smile.

“Anytime, bro. Kinda nice out here anyway.”

That smile grew a little before softening. “Well, unfortunately we have to head back now.”

“What?”

“I’ve got to pick up Gordon and Grandma.”

Alan checked his watch. Where the hell had the time gone? He’d been out here…three hours! “Wow, didn’t expect it to be so late.”

Virgil didn’t comment, just smiled a little more as he packed up his sketchbook and pencils.

Alan stood up and stared out across the ocean. A flicker on the surface of the water and he caught sight of a pod of dolphins frolicking in the swell. He stared.

“It’s amazing what you can see if you stop and look.” His brother’s soft voice so close to him made him jump.

“Virg, personal space.”

His brother snorted and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t think such a thing exists on this island.” That smile again. “Probably why John hides on Five.”

Alan grinned. “You’ve got a point.” And despite his earlier protest, he dropped his head against Virgil’s shoulder and for just a few more moments, they both tracked the dolphins as the cavorted past the Island.

“Can we do this again?”

“Sure.” Virgil slung his pack over his shoulder.

“Great.”

Silence fell, and they stood there a moment longer until Virgil squeezed a little and let go. “C’mon, sprout, time to clamber down the mountain.”

Virgil took the first few steps and Alan followed, throwing one last glance back at the nest now full of the entire family of sea eagles. A sharp beaked head turned in his direction and glared at him.

Alan couldn’t help but smile at the bird before he hurried after his brother.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[pianodoesterror]

2020 Fanfic in Review

tagged by the realest, @veganthranduil - thaaank you.

I reversed the question order a bit because, like veganthranduil, my list of fics written this year is... extensive. And that’s also how they did it so.

Takeaways from reflecting on your kick-ass writing, or kick-ass lack of writing, during a year more focused on survival than perhaps any other:

I wrote a lot. So much. I went from 59 fics to 100 and that’s just... show’s how boring my year was. There is a lot of familiar themes and vibes in my fics that I am highly aware of; I think they are as much for comfort as they are for ease tbh. Who doesn’t love people in room’s expression emotions. I also wrote some short fics - which aren’t even that short - but that felt good and it forced me to be more economical as I usually am.

Also, this year I learned the difference between ‘sitting’ and ‘sat’ and ‘stood’ and ‘standing’, although there is not guarantee on whether I use them correctly on the first attempt.

I really enjoyed the two women’s POV I got to do (incidentally, for both of the exchanges I signed up to this year), especially Ann Ross’. 

Most surprising fic you wrote this year:

Uuuh, a threesome involving Sophia for the fitzier fic exchange. I never really considered doing an actual threesome despite thoughts because Who would be in it? Also so many limbs. And I had considered a Sophia pov, but not for this, and certainly not modern. But despite false starts, and periods of abject dejection, I got it done and I’m kinda proud of it.  

How you grew as a writer this year:

I think my voices became clearer, my descriptions took on a snappiness. I took style risks and I think they mostly paid off. Also, first time I’ve taken ‘research’ trips for fics, but how can I noooot ships are so cool and so is Greenwich (who’s high-street has the best ice cream shop btw)

What’s coming in 2021:

WELL. There is only one WIP in my google doc’s rn. And it’s a present for my friend lobsterbang who threw the idea at me on a calculated whim and I grabbed it and overthought it, because then I could actually use my degree and the stuff I specialise in at work this year 😭. -  Tozer/FJ, Romans.

  What is planned from my bingo card;

Three scenes that might be in the Let the River Rush In universe.

Capetown, Dundy/FJ

Rossier, which could be one thing or another, I haven’t made up my mind yet.

Fics written this year:

There’s so many i’m so sorry

Fitzier;

you found me beautiful once (G) - a spooky drabble to go with art by @matt-j-freeman 

sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me (M)( hinted Fitzier and past Rossier, and Gibson/Hickey). First chpt posted about this time last year, but was finished in February 2020, a colab with @lobsterbang about how we thought they would get home within the context and intentions of the show. Also Hickey is suuuper creepy and FJ gets to shoot rockets.

the snow grows from the ground up (M) - 5+1, FJ is jealous of Crozier until he isn’t. 

and all I've done for want of wit (T) - James dies, and wanders through everyone else’s afterlife, waiting for his own to arrive. 

the world will always smell of salt  (M) - where, much like the real expedition, they are forced into cannibalism to survive (rated M cause it’s not graphic cannibalism but a dude still gets ate)

Oh, why would you weep, my friends, for me? (T) - the greatest tragedy of Francis’ life, coming to see him through the last day of his life. (wrote this in 24hrs and I am very proud of it)

gathering primroses series (M) - Trans Francis, FJ and Francis being comfortable with one another. The OG fic might be the best thing I wrote this year. 

all the boards did shrink series (E) - pwp, FJ own’s a dildo, that’s all you need to know. 

let the river rush in (E-T) get’s it’s own little bit. The last 8 (eight!) fic’s of the series were written this year. My baby. My cosy universe of Francis and James working out how to be the men who survived all that happened, all while navigating sexuality and gender and their own selves. 

Fic’s go from; whatever stirs this mortal frame (E) - where James is in his corset and split seam knickers being fussy and bossy. TO it hangs like flax upon a distaff (M) - Crimean war erectile dysfunction (not a sentence I thought i’d ever type). And from lately i've been fine, floating away (E) in which Francis bottoms for the first time, TO the bit of me still at sea (M) - where James is posted to the Med fleet and Francis potters about without him, both unhappy to be parted but used to a sailors life. And a honourable mention to by the time you are Real (G) where FJ is highly relatable and finally starts processing 10 years after the Expedition. 

For Fitzconte;

Way haul away... ,(M) series. in which Dundy belongs to a story that is very different from the one happening about him. 

Clio Goes West (M)series, in which - they go swiming in Yemen, eat dates, and get one another off. The Basra Marshes are very beautiful and sticky, and so are they. And - Nebet attacks.

It isn’t much fun for one, but two (G)- the Dundy and Jas orign story.

For Rossier;

Oh, a nice watch below wouldn’t do us any arm.(M) - HMS Fury days, larking in the gunroom.

positive values of inclination (M) -handsomest man in the royal navy sucks dick to unwind and manages to be a nerd about it

For Fitzjames/Tozer (lobsterbang);

magnitude and definite direction (M) - James is a nerd and they misuse a jollyboat.

marriage, in the maltese style (M) - FJ is off home and is gonna have to behave himself. so says goodbye to Malta in the company of a obliging marine. 

how prettily he foots it with his hands (M) - Mr Fitzjames stars as Queen Fadladinia, and gets quite a memorable standing ovation

Misc; 

we've got one thing in common, its this tongue of yours (E) - Fitzier exchange, modern AU threesome with requested pegging.

and of their shadows deep (G) - Rossier exchange. Ann Ross pov (which I LOVED doing), her reaction to Francis’ disappearance, and reflection on her friendship with him.

I tag @norvegiae @laissezferre @junomarlowe @lobsterbang @clockheartedcrocodile if they would like to do it

[spacesuitsforemergency]

The Rise Of Iron Maiden

Chapter 4: Failure to Launch

Word Count: 2.9k

Originally Requested by: @amateurwriterbigdreamer

Previous Chapter: We’re in the Endgame Now

Next Chapter: The Return Of Iron Maiden

A/N: this chapters kinda slow, but I gotta fill the plot. Next chapters gonna be pretty Tye heavy (mostly from his POV)

“Wrah!” Nebula stood up, putting her hands in a fighting stance.

“You don't need to do that. Because uh... you're just holding position.” Tony mimicked a football goalpost with his hands as she flicked a paper football towards him. “Oh yeah, that was close.”

“I would like to try again.”

You and Tye watched from the front of the ship, both of you previously watching the stars. Both of you are silent, neither of you wanting to talk. You were still too shaken up from the events of nearly last month. Nebula had attempted to fly you back to Earth, but the Milano broke down and now you were floating in space, hopeless.

“Fair game. Good sport. Have fun?” Your dad asked Nebula.

“It was...fun.” She nodded slowly.

“Tye, Y/N, wanna play?” Tony looked over to the two kids.

“I’m good.” Tye mumbled.

“Hey, come on.” Your dad urged. “It’s fun. Right, Nebula?”

“It is fun.” She nodded, face deadpanned. Tye sighed, but eventually joined them.

“Y/N?” Your dad offered.

“Um...I’m tired, I’m gonna go sleep for a little bit.” You give him a small smile as if to say you were okay, before retreating to the back of the ship towards the bedrooms.

You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. You think about everyone at home, and the frustration of not knowing who was still alive. Were Eduardo, Jaime, Peter, Quill, Drax, Mantis and Doctor Strange still alive? Or did they die? Would they ever come back? Could you bring them back?

Usually Eduardo was there to tell you you were overthinking and to calm you down, but he was gone. He turned to dust in your hands, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You hated it when you couldn’t control something, much like your father. If you couldn’t protect the ones you loved, you felt useless. You felt guilty, believing it was your fault that Eduardo, Jaime and Peter were gone. You were even guilty about the Guardians of the Galaxy, even though you barely knew them.

You looked over at your pile of armor on the floor. You dragged yourself out of bed, sitting against it. You clicked a button on your helmet, and waited for it to light up.

“This thing on?” You ask nobody in particular, then let it scan you. “Alright. Hey mom. Uh...sorry for not listening to dad. Again. I should be down on Earth, I’m sorry I’m worrying you. Dad makes you do that enough already.” You chuckle softly. “Um...it’s day 22, just floating in space. The blue meanie tried to fly us back. You’d like her, she’s very practical. It’s only her, me, dad, and Tye left. He doesn’t talk much-well, not that he did before. He’s pretty broken over Jaime. Peters gone too, poor kid. Aunt Mays gonna kill him. Um...I lost Eduardo. He just...turned into dust. I couldn’t do anything about it...I really miss him, mom. I won’t miss him much longer though, in fact, I might see him in the next...48 hours of oxygen. It won’t last long with four people on here though. I didn’t think I’d die like this, it’s so pathetic.” You scoff and shake your head. “I thought I’d die saving people. I want to die saving people, that’s how I’ve always wanted to go but...nope. I’m gonna die because this piece of junk broke down in the middle of the universe. So uh...I’m gonna go play some paper football with the two grumps and dad. I’m really sorry, mom. All you do is put up with our shit, and tell us when to stop. I should’ve listened this time.” You go to turn it off, quickly saying, “I love you.”

You fall back against the bed, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. The low oxygen levels are already effecting you, which meant your dad and friend were both feeling them too. You wanted to go join them, but you couldn’t move your whole body enough to do so. You lied there, staring at your Iron Maiden suit. The suit you used to save people, but you couldn’t even save yourself. You failed Eduardo. Jaime. Peter. Quill. Drax. Mantis. Doctor Strange. And who knows who else.

You feel yourself being lifted off the ground, and you look up to see Nebula. She was mostly machine, so the lack of oxygen wasn’t effecting her as bad as you. She carried you over to a couch that she had dragged into the control room, facing the window. Your dad was sitting in the middle, Tye beside him. Nebula sat you on his other side, then left.

Tony gathered enough strength to lift his arms, resting them around the two kids’ shoulders and pulling them closer to him. He wanted to comfort them, but he couldn’t speak. You all stared out at the stars, awaiting your deaths.

•

A bright light pierced your brain, making you cringe as you wake up. You open your eyes and blink until they adjust. You see a woman outside of the ship, looking in. You weakly shake your dads leg, trying to alert him. His hand rests atop of yours to tell you he’s okay, as he slowly sits up a little.

“Who’s that?” Tye mumbles, half asleep.

“Not sure, kid.” Tony replied. You pass out again, not able to hold consciousness. You wake up again when someone shakes you awake, opening your eyes to see your dads best friend, Rhodey.

“Y/N? Hey, think you can stand?” He asked softly. You nod, and he helps you to your feet you lean on him as he walks you down the ramp to outside.

“Is mom...?” You breathe out, still blinking away black spots in your vision.

“Y/N! Tony!” You hear her yell from somewhere, before Rhodey can even open his mouth. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”

Your mom practically crashed into you, holding you tightly to her. You fall into her, not having the strength to stand any longer. Your dad walks by himself over to his two girls, hugging them tightly. Back in space, he truly thought those would be his last moment, so he was eternally grateful that he got to live long enough to hold them both again.

Tye watched the scene from where Natasha was helping him stand, feeling alone. His mother was in a different dimension than him, and Tye felt like she probably didn’t even miss him.

“Nat?” He breathed out.

“What’s up?” She asked, looking down at the exhausted boy.

“You have food that isn’t freeze dried and in a silver bag, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, come on.” She chuckled, helping him walk towards the Compound.

“Don’t you two ever do that again.” Pepper began to cry.

“No promises.” Tony kissed each of his girls on top of the head, as Steve approached you guys. “Couldn’t stop him, Cap.”

“Neither could I.” Steve nodded.

“I lost the kids. Peter. Jaime. Eduardo.” Tony shook his head, guilt washing over him once again.

“Tony, we all lost.”

You’re brought into the compound, each immediately given an IV and some food. You and Tye eat like animals, not having any rations for the past couple of days. You watch a holographic screen listing the heroes that disappeared in the Decimation; Wanda Maximoff, Nick Fury, Jaime Reyes, Bucky Barnes, Peter Quill, Scott Lang, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, T’Challa, Eduardo Dorado Jr...

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey announced.

“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did... he did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.” Natasha paced slowly in front of the holographs.

“Where is he?” You ask timidly, still nervous about him.

“We don't know. He just opened a portal and walked through.” Bruce Banner said slowly, trying to not scare the kids even more than they already were.

“What's wrong with him?” Tony asked, motioning to Thor, who was staring into space.

“Oh, he's pissed. He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but you know there's a lot of that's going around, ain't there?” A talking raccoon spoke up from behind you.

“Honestly, until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Your dad pointed at him.

“You’re with him, kid? Really?” The raccoon looked at Tye.

“You know a talking raccoon?” You asked Tye, staring at the raccoon.

“He’s not a-.”

“I’m not a raccoon!” It snapped at you. “Why do you humies keep saying that?”

“We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep Space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, Y/N, Tye, you fought him.” Steve interrupted.

“Who told you that? I didn't fight him.” Tony scoffed. “No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the store. Nearly killed my daughter, and Tye. One hit away from it, in fact. That's what happened. There was no fight.”

“Okay.”

“He was unbeatable.” Tye shook his head, and you agreed.

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?” Captain America asked.

“Pfft! I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn't wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming.” Tony said.

“Dad, calm down.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.”

“And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need?” Your dad stood up, slapping things off a table. Everyone winced from the sudden noise. “I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse-“

Tony lunges at Steve, but Rhodey stepped between them and held your dad back.

“Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not-that's what we needed!” Tony yelled at Steve.

“Well, that didn't work out, did it?” Steve kept his composure, only angering your father even more.

“I said, "we'd lose". You said, "We'll do that together too." And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers, we're the Avengers. Not the Prevengers.”

“Dad! Stop!” You shout at him, your head spinning.

“You know what, honey? The adults are talking, alright?” Your dad said, with a little more venom than he intended.

“Mr. Stark you made your point just-“ Tye started.

“Nah, nah. Here's my point. You know what?” Tony turned back to glare at Captain America.

“Tony, you’re sick.” Rhodey insisted, trying to get him to sit back down.

“I got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” Tony slowly walked up to Steve, getting right in his face. You all tensed when Tony ripped his arc reactor out of his chest, smacking it into Steve’s hand. “Here, take this. You find him, and you put that on. You hide.”

“Dad!” You shout when he suddenly falls to the ground.

“Tony!” Steve reached down to help his old friend up.

“I’m fine. I...” Your dad trails off, falling unconsciously to the floor. You try to get up, but Natasha pushes you back down by your shoulders.

“Get him to a room. Call Pepper.” Natasha ordered the men, before turning back to you two. “He’ll be fine, Y/N. Just needs to rest. So do you.”

“Not tired.” You shook your head stubbornly.

“Nebula, Rocket, think you can handle watching them for a moment?” She asked the two aliens, sitting on the wall behind you.

“Yes.” Nebula nodded.

“Sure.” The raccoon, or, Rocket shrugged.

Natasha gave you a reassuring smile before turning to help the other bring your father to a room.

“Sorry about your friend, kid.” Rocket hopped down and rounded the couch you and Tye were on to face him.

“Yeah. Sorry about the others.” Tye nodded, expression not changing at all. Your eyes drifted back to the screen, watching more and more names and pictures appear onscreen.

“Where are you going?” You hear Natasha ask someone.

“To kill Thanos.” The lady that flew you home stated simply as they emerged from the hallway.

“Hey, you know, we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morale's a little fragile.” Nat mumbled.

“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight too.” Steve nodded.

“You even know where he is?” Rhodey joined them.

“I know people who might.” The lady said, blank faced.

“Don't bother. I can tell you where Thanos is. Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I'd ask "where would we go once his plan was complete?". His answer was always the same: "To the Garden." Nebula stood up, walking over to them.

“That's cute, Thanos has a retirement plan.” Rhodey joked, earning small smiles from you and Tye. He smiled back, glad to bring the two kids joy, even for a moment.

“So where is he?” Steve asked, and the adults walked over to a round table. You and Tye joined them, regaining enough strength to stand. You still leaned on Rhodey, which he happily let you do.

“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions. No one's ever seen anything like it... Until two days ago.” Rocket showed a hologram of a planet, with a shockwave visibly traversing the surface. “On this planet.”

“Thanos is there.” Nebula added.

“He used the Stones again.” Natasha muttered.

“Hey, hey, hey. We'd be going in short-handed, you know.” Bruce piped up.

“Look, he's still got the stones, so...” Rhodey said.

“So let's get him... Use them to bring everyone back.” The lady told you.

“Just like that?” Tye raises an eyebrow in disapproval.

“Just like like.” Steve nodded.

“Even if there's a small chance that we can undo this... I mean we owe it to everyone who's not in this room to try.” Natasha tried to convince everyone. You looked down, feeling the guilt from letting your friends die in the pit of your stomach.

“If we do this, how do we know it's gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asked.

“Because before, you didn't have me.” The lady crossed her arms.

“Hey, new girl, everyone here is about that superhero life. And if you don't mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?” Rhodey put a hand on his hip, making sure to balance so you wouldn’t fall.

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn't have you guys.” The lady narrowed her eyes at Rhodey.

Thor walked out of the shadows, towards the lady. They stand in front of each other as if challenging the other. Thor holds out his hand, and Stormbreaker flies into his hand. Then they both grin at each other.

“I like this one.” Thor said.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch.” You growl.

“Like hell you’re going!” Natasha laughed.

“No way, kids.” Steve shook his head. “Adults only on this one.”

“Would you quit treating us like children?” You glare at them.

“We probably got more punches in on Thanos than all of you combined.” Tye said venomously.

“First of all, not possible.” Natasha said. “Second of all, you are not coming. Tony and Pepper would go into cardiac arrest if you came along.”

You and Tye exchange looks, looking to the floor in compliance.

“Look, we know you’re hurting. But going at him all malnourished and seeking revenge is not the way to do it.” Rhodey told you guys.

“You’ll stay here with Tony and Pepper, okay?” Natasha asked. “Rest. Let us take care of this.”

“...okay.” You sigh.

“Thank you.” She pulled both of you into a hug. You melted into it, Tye tensed up.

You hugged each of the remaining Avengers, even Thor let you hug him, though he didn’t hug back. You and Tye stood and watched at they boarded the now fixed Milano, then watched them take off. You stood there for a little bit after, staring at the dark sky.

“Tye?” You whisper after a long stretch of silence.

“Yeah?”

“You think they can do it?” You ask

Tye hesitates. You’re scared, he’s scared, and both of you just want even a glimpse of hope. He debates what to tell you, what he truly thought or what he knew you wanted to hear.

“...no.”

You nod slowly, agreeing with him. A single tear falls down your face, dropping onto the paved pathway.

“I miss them, too.” Tye took a shaky breath, fighting his own tear ducts. He never cried, let alone in front of anyone.

“I’m sorry you lost Jaime.” You turn to him. “I know how much he meant to you. Eduardo too.”

“I’m sorry you lost Peter. You guys are as close as Jaime and I are. And I’m sorry you lost Eduardo, too.” Tye quickly blinked away tears.

“Can you believe they’re all gone?” You ask.

“No.” He shook his head. “I wish it could just be a month ago. When we were on that one mission.”

“The one where Jaime and Peter accidentally broke into Scott Lang’s house?” You giggle.

“How do you accidentally break in?” Tye laughed, shaking his head. “They’re truly idiots.”

“But they’re our idiots.” You nod, smiling sadly at the sky.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Tommy

Ali: I am SO glad this holiday centres around drinking beyond reason

Tommy: Me too, like, But why are you?

Ali: I wouldn’t even wanna get into it if it weren’t for the fact I couldn’t with her

Ali: Obvious clue is obvious

Tommy: Oh darling, Kitty, what’s she done now?

Ali: It’s not even what she’s done

Ali: It’s her total lack of desire to try

Ali: I know I shouldn’t take it personally and it’s symptomatic of the bigger picture

Ali: But that’s the problem, it’s so hard to watch, to see it so clearly when she has no front to put up

Tommy: Yeah, it always puts a lovely, thick layer of extra dread onto my homecoming

Tommy: the regularly scheduled updates are bad enough & it’s not like I can do more for being back under the same roof

Ali: Oh God, please don’t start, it’s like no one wants to be here, pure depressing, like

Ali: That’s how I ended up feeling, it wasn’t like she wanted to come but you know, anxiety, strangers etc

Ali: Because my suggestions to alleviate those problems were shot STRAIGHT down

Ali: So she just doesn’t want to

Ali: but not just that, I should feel like shit for going and leaving her alone...which put like that, should I? I don’t even know now

Tommy: Honey, fuck that! I’ve had to veto Fi going full Elphaba on all our faces so that diva maybe this close to not, but there’s no stopping me, Will, Gwen or Steph 🥳🥳🥳

Tommy: she’s getting worse, I dunno what any of us are meant to do

Tommy: other than being certain that I’m not gonna let you have an utter shit time

Tommy: That’s what she wants, that way you’ll stay with her forever 💀🥀🕷🕸

Ali: Nice to hear some genuine enthusiasm, which is fecking ridiculous considering this is apparently every fucker’s fave holiday as standard, I swear everyone but Da is in a right mood atm

Ali: Thank God that everyone’s gotta let tourists be tourists for the 💸🤑 or your mates would need some serious babysitting 😏

Ali: Little green men is fully my groupies’ aesthetic so you’re welcome to out yourself any time, like

Ali: I dunno, I mean, she’ll be alright won’t she? It’s a fairly long sesh, I know…

Ali: Hence my life’d be a lot easier if she’d come for a bit but there we go

Tommy: My honoured guests have got it in spades & buckets tbh 🧶🧚‍♀️🍀🎩🌈 dress up is already well underway just can’t let ‘em also start 🚗💣🍺🥃 or they won’t last to see it in

Tommy: cba to stick in it a 🍼 you know

Tommy: how many groupies you got now? Only 👏 while it’s still underground, avant-garde & super niche, naturally

Tommy: What’s she got planned? Other than putting a 💔 hex on you and Carls

Ali: Sensible

Ali: And not in a scrooge debbie downer kinda way

Ali: Found out the tents for yous to sleep in but I’m taking ‘em out first

Ali: 🌄 are calling, obvs

Ali: Naturally 🙄 just don’t click instead that shit is TOO pretentious even for your lot

Ali: She said she was WELL busy, but you know, the usual I imagine 📚💭

Ali: Drew won’t pay her no attention way too busy with the tourists etc 💸🤑

Tommy: 👍 cheers 😸👼 you are

Tommy: 🍀 are calling, is what you mean

Tommy: 🙄 be a waste of a 🙏 I know it’s 1 of her other highly rated activities, like, but still, I don’t need to imagine the two of ‘em getting together rn

Ali: They make NO sense

Ali: Unless his thing is dating a girl like his sister, in place of the standard wanting a mum 2.0, which understandably is not his vibe

Ali: Suspect don’t cover it but we’ll see

Tommy: It’d make more sense if I dumped Will for Fi & suss wouldn’t cover that & that’s a NO from us all

Tommy: Excuse you whore! That’s Meena slander

Ali: You know what I mean though

Ali: Where did this come from, like 🤯

Tommy: 🤯 over straight boy behaviour since forever

Ali: I usually find them so boringly easy

Ali: not the brag it sounds

Ali: I’d rather get her again… I’d know what to do, before

Ali: It was safety, for her and us

Tommy: Before she would’ve followed you anywhere, you can’t keep her safe if she ain’t even gonna try to meet you halfway at anything

Ali: Like you said, nothing to be done, I suppose

Ali: At least today

Ali: I’m going to mass with her, she’s helping to set up, it’s something

Tommy: & I’ll squeeze in a 1 on 1 for me & her before I leave 🩰👒🎹🎤✨

Ali: Tah

Ali: If only getting people to spend time with her was the issue

Ali: Be fully booked if she wanted

Tommy: But like you said, it’s something & if anyone can talk her out of an unsuitable romance, it’s me 🧚🏼‍♂️

Tommy: don’t have your track record

Tommy: there’s at least a chance she’ll take my advice about doing better than a dealer 🤞 now I’ve got myself the “happy ending” of decent hair & only petty crime

Ali: None of my romances have been unsuitable

Ali: You underestimate how discerning her taste is when it comes to other people’s partners

Ali: He might not be Carly levels of demon but don’t mean you’ll find a nice word to be said, like

Tommy: put your claws away, Kit, talking Ro’s POV, Carls is my angel

Tommy: & I guarantee I’ve heard worse than she can dish from the other bitchy ballerinas who couldn’t get their 💅 in first

Tommy: simply not quaking, sorry

Ali: Just saying, if it were that easy, it’d be done by now

Tommy: just saying, I’ve not taken a turn yet

Ali: If there’s any day for luck…

Ali: It ain’t one where she’s decided to be in the worst mood ❌🍀

Tommy: I’ve only got the weekend, like

Ali: I understand her a bit better than that tah

Ali: as well as the appeal of prohibition

Ali: the more everyone weighs in on her being wrong, the more bolstered she feels in how right she actually is

Ali: one fuckboy mistake she’ll have to learn from

Tommy: & I don’t? PLEASE 🙄 No notes needed for this performance

Ali: She always gets worse when Bea comes back

Ali: I’ll be the one dealing when you all fuck off again

Tommy: I know

Tommy: so let me deal with her this time, Will, Gwen & Fi have all been here enough & they’ve got each other

Ali: Sorry, the moods catching

Tommy: She can run but the house ain’t grown any new hiding places & I remember ‘em all

Ali: She’s still small enough to fit in all the gaps and cracks, you less so

Ali: Anything is worth a shot

Ali: The party will be enough, loads of my mates are coming, yours won’t get bored 🤞

Tommy: True but when she gets in one she ain’t got the strength to get to another quick as I can 🐁🩰

Tommy: yeah, yeah the party don’t stop when I walk out, I know ☹️😏

Tommy: & Carls isn’t just my angel, she’ll save that bit of the day if needs

Ali: Tourists love St Paddy’s

Ali: and no one does it better than da

Tommy: if I were gonna disagree it’d only be to annoy him

Ali: @ the family group chat for that hilarious bants, Tommo

Tommy: 🐻👈

Tommy: 1st time I’ve used those not as a euphemism? Oh definitely

Ali: Please, you’re a couple of 🧚🏼‍♂️🧚🏼‍♂️s

Tommy: Tah, Darling

Tommy: flattery will get you an invite to the next teddy bears picnic

Ali: Bit rude to Carly that you think that’s my type

Ali: no 🧔s here

Tommy: It’s not me trying drive a wedge, she’s invited too

Ali: Thoughtful 😏

Tommy: You shall go to the ball

Ali: Glass shoes is an idea… 🤔

Tommy: One way to keep hold of your drink or stop a fight

Ali: Me and my shoes are keeping well out of any more fights, fuck that

Tommy: What is your outfit plan then?

Ali: I’ve got all the material to construct it now, I think

Ali: See what it comes out like 🤷‍♀️✨

Tommy: Fi don’t believe you can top last year’s

Ali: I love a challenge and a chance to impress, obviously

Tommy: chop chop 😼

Tommy: shameless distraction tactic I’m throwing at you, who?

Ali: Christ knows I’m running out of time with the to-do list never ending, hey ho

Tommy: Same tbh

Tommy: we’d better get back to it 🧹🎃

Ali: Fuck being a middle kid, right? 💔

Tommy: Honestly

Ali: You know what you’re getting Rocky yet, speaking of the little shit

Tommy: Probably that bow with the glowing arrows that stick to windows & shit, he keeps seeing the ad & reckons they’ll fly over the house

Ali: Alright, going for 🥇 sib, fair play 👏

Tommy: Sure you’ll have me beat with whatever you’re planning

Ali: I’ll think of something

Ali: Once this is all out the way

Ali: If ma will let us, we’ll take him camping with his 🏹

Tommy: Once all the 🍬🍫🧁🎂🧃 hits she’ll be glad to be rid

Ali: not the baby though 🙄

Tommy: thank god for daddy’s girl, yeah?

Tommy: you’ll never lose that 👑

Ali: try as you might, yeah yeah 😉

Tommy: 😏