#instead of only being shattered while under stress and strain

[irisfixation]

anyways you can probably tell but we got high last night

[kaidenya]

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

[livingforthewhump]

for the paladin series: 24- stress position and/ or 36- creative restraints?

ohoho! this takes place between this drabble and this one

—

Caroline groaned, pain radiating throughout her body. Time had slipped into a blurred daze marked only by frequent new pain shattering across her. Her body trembled from the exhaustion of trying to shelter herself against the onslaught, and her very mind was exhausted from the fear and constant noise coming from Paladin and Hugo. Her throat hurt from screaming and crying, and overall she just felt so tired.

She flinched when the blindfold slipped off of her face, so easy and simple, as if it hadn’t been wracking her with terror for the past who-knows-how-long.

“There you go, doll. You’re okay,” Paladin murmured gently, lifting her head off the floor while her eyes blearily focused on him. A strained whimper slid out of her mouth. “I’ve put the cane away, alright?”

Caroline choked on a sob. Her eyes fell closed.

“Ah-ah-ah, little one, don’t fall asleep yet. You aren’t done.” He shifted her as he spoke, sitting her up. She gasped brokenly and fell against him as an attempt to get the world to stop spinning. Gosh, she just wanted it all to stop.

“Leave her alone,” Hugo snarled, but his voice sounded wet and almost as broken as hers. One glance at him revealed that his blindfold was soaked through with tears. She felt an unexpected and hazy stab of pity for him. It would be miserable to have to watch someone else suffer and not be able to do anything about it. Then he said “Please, whatever it is, do it to me instead.” and the pity was swept away in a sea of confusion.

Didn’t he know how bad Paladin would make it hurt? Why on earth would he volunteer himself?

Before she could voice any of that, Paladin grabbed her wrists, maneuvering them behind her back. He wasn’t being very rough, but he also wasn’t being gentle, and with her already bruised and covered in welts, it was enough to make fresh tears leak down her cheeks.

She felt the material of the blindfold, still tied in a loop, wrapping around her wrists once. Twice. Paladin looped an arm around her waist and dragged her to the wall. Her vision briefly went white at the pressure on her bruised ribs.

Behind her, Paladin moved a couple things around. Fear and unknowable anticipation anchored her heart, rooting her to the spot. Her forehead tightened when she saw Paladin lay aside a low-hanging picture on the wall, tugging the loop of fabric around her wrists tighter to find the slack. Her fingertips tingled as the circulation was cut off. Her headache was only getting worse, pounding at her temple and behind her eyes.

Suddenly, Paladin was muttering reassurances as he tugged her arms up, up over her shoulders. She gasped jaggedly and leaned forward as much as she could to compensate. He looped the slack of the blindfold over something—a nail, or a hook in the wall from the painting, she realized.

Her legs she was curled over were already aching underneath her. The awkward position was putting strain on her shoulders, her back, all the places she was most injured from the caning. She tried to sob but that just made it worse.

A strong hand pet the top of her head, snaking down to Caroline’s chin to tilt her face up.

“There’s my doll,” Paladin said. The satisfaction in his voice made her sick. “Prettier hanging on my wall than any picture I could buy.”

“Please,” she sobbed, neck burning from the way he was holding it at odds with the angle of her shoulders. “Please.”

Paladin shushed her softly, wiping tears off of her cheeks. “You’re okay. Whenever you want to be done, all you have to do is stand up. Any time. You can unhook yourself, okay? I know that you try so hard to be good for me, so this little game is up to you.”

She shook her head, finally managing to duck it out of Paladin’s hands and down between her knees. The floor seemed to spin under her.

Even if Paladin meant it, if he would really let her free herself and end this, she was far too dizzy and weak to be able to stand. Her legs were already asleep, staticky and numb. There was no option, ever, but to wait until Paladin decided she had had enough.

—

Paladin Series Taglist: @lonesome--hunter @whole-and-apart-and-between @writtentodeath @moonflowers-and-sunrays @villain-enthusiast @hurting-fictional-people @kixngiggles @whumpfessional @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @1phoenixfeather @chartreusephoenix @kemonoinuzuka @sunflower1000 @1becky1 @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @onestopheroxvillain @freefallingup13 @basica11yg33ky @whumptakesthecake @some-random-person-hi @susanshinning

[psychedellic-phase]

Perfect

A/N: this is a request that i got forever ago!! so sorry that it took me so long:(

ReidxFem!BAU!Reader

word count: 2.2k

tw: SMUT (unprotected sex, oral (road head, male recieving) , degradation, slight exhibitionism, all around rough sexy vibes plus a sweet ending)

Masterlist :)

The roads were always empty when you’d finally leave work. Your job was never nine to five; it was more like nine to midnight. Not that you minded; the company was always good.

The company was always Spencer. When everyone else would finally give up and go home for the night, he’s the one who always stayed. And once you started your torrid love affair with him, you stayed too. Most nights he’d take you in an empty conference room, or a bathroom stall. Everyone wondered why you two always seemed to have so much paperwork to do, when in actuality it wasn’t about the paperwork, it was about each other.

It started out how most friends-with-benefits situations do. You were both stressed, full of pent up frustrations and sexual energy with no outlet. It started after a case, him showing up at your door unannounced and practically jumping on you the second you let him in. That night ended with two earth-shattering orgasms, and sleeping next to your coworker.

You both swore it would just be that once.

“A moment of weakness,” you had told your girlfriends, but soon that moment of weakness turned into days, turned into months, turned into nearly a year of weakness. Nearly a year of janitors-closet hookups and concealer-caked hickies. Nearly a year of sexting and countless trips to the mile-high club.

It had been nearly a year, and even though you swore it was nothing, it was definitely something. Sure it was sex, but it was also the way he looked at you and the way he’d take care of you afterwards. It was the way he’d burn toast in the morning and kiss your cheek when you woke up. It was more than what either of you had bargained for, but neither one of you had gathered up the nerve to admit it.

You were hopelessly, desperately in love with each other, and neither of you even knew it.

“Staying late again?” You asked him, half sitting on his desk.

His eyes trailed up your legs, admiring how your skirt slid up. He cleared his throat, “Actually, I’m going home.”

You were taken aback. The matching bra and underwear under your clothes were counting on being taken off by him tonight.

“Oh, well, okay then.”

He smiled at you, that awkward smile he always does that you insist looks like a frog.

You made your way to your desk, embarrassed and red, wondering if he was suddenly tired of you. God, you hoped he wasn’t.

The two of you entered the elevator together, the air thick and awkward. Usually, you would’ve been halfway naked, doing god knows what right now, but instead you were standing three feet apart and wishing the elevator would fall through the floor.

When the doors opened, you exited simultaneously.

“Let me drive you home,” He said, delicately grabbing your wrist.

Your interest was piqued, “Oh?”

He pulled you a little closer to him, but not so close that security would see what he was trying to do, “I have plans for you.”

You giggled, “I like the sound of that.”

He pulled you to his car. The old, yellow thing must have been from 1926 and you were amazed it even functioned.

You followed him eagerly, dipping into the passenger seat with ease. He started the car, looking over at you with a gleam in his eyes that you swore was more than just the moonlight.

“So, what’s the plan, Reid?” You asked as he pulled out of the parking garage.

His hand met your thigh, stroking small circles on your bare skin, dangerously close to where you were already throbbing.

“I was thinking, maybe you could do something for me. I mean, since I am driving you home and all,” He looked over at you, devilish grin.

You bit your lip, “And what would that something be, Dr. Reid?”

He took his bottom lip into his mouth, “Surprise me.”

You took that as your opportunity to reach over, glide your hands up the inside seam of his pants and palm him. He was already rock hard, you could see the pants straining to contain him. You deftly moved your hand up, the same way you had a hundred times, and unbuckled his belt. Then you pulled down his zipper at a ridiculously slow rate.

“C’mon baby, the ride’s only so long,” He said, his voice strained and his breath already heavy.

“Then take the scenic route,” You whispered, biting at his neck as you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled him out.

The moonlight allowed you to see the gleaming tip, mouth watering as you twisted your body so you could bend over. He tugged his pants down slightly and moved the seat back to give you more space and access.

Your tongue teased the tip first, swirling around the head and dipping into the slit. He tasted musky and salty, the same way he always did. You quickly used your lips to take the entire head into your mouth, sucking hard while your tongue touched anything it could reach.

The sounds coming out of his throat were animalistic, “God, stop teasing.”

He used one hand to gather up your hair and tugged on it gently, your mouth opening up wider. You hit a bump in the road, his cock forcing itself up into your throat and causing you to gag. You kept him there, as far in your throat as he could go. Your hand found whatever your mouth couldn’t reach and moved in the same rhythm as you did. You nipped and sucked at him, tongue drawing broad stripes up and down and up and down.

You removed your mouth for a moment, your hand smearing your saliva and his precum around as you jerked him. Your tongue found his balls sucking and squeezing each of them between your lips.

He bucked up into you, the car jerking.

You giggled, tongue still poking out to lick at him, “Watch the road, Reid.”

He groaned as your mouth and hands switched places, hands toying with him while you bobbed your head up and down. He thought he was going to explode.

“Get off,” he ordered, yanking your hair again, this time pulling you off.

You were confused, mascara under your eyes, cheeks puffy and hair a mess, “But—“

Spencer pulled off the side of the quiet road, “You’re going to go bend over the back seat.”

You wriggled in your seat, “But I want to—“

“You heard me. Back. Now.”

You got up on shaky legs, your neck aching slightly from the angle of the road head.

You opened the door, and bent over, allowing your skirt to ride up.

You felt Spencer behind you, his large hands warm on your thighs as he trailed his hands under your skirt, finding your panties and yanking them off. The air was cold against your wetness but you didn’t feel it for long. His hand traced the curve of your butt before grabbing at it roughly.

“You’re so desperate, pretty girl,” He whispered, sliding the tip between your folds, “You’ll let me fuck you here, in public, for anyone to see.”

You couldn’t do much but whimper. The way he could use his words to build you up and simultaneously tear you down was enough to make you push towards him.

He roughly grabbed your butt again, “Oh, very desperate today, aren’t we pretty girl?”

You nodded, but he couldn’t see.

“I said, aren’t we, pretty girl?”

“Yes!” You yelped, “Yes! Please, please, I need you.”

He pushed into you then, leaving no time for adjustment. His hands fit in the dips where your hips met your waist. He started at a brutal pace, your knees rocking back and forth against the rough seats, destined to be cut and bruised tomorrow. You didn’t mind it.

He grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back so he could look at you, “You like that, don’t you? For such a pretty girl, you’re so dirty.”

You nodded, “Only for you.”

The words meant more than you intended them to, but he didn’t notice, too busy palming your ass and muttering insults at you.

You could feel him in your stomach with every thrust, your wetness spreading around, no doubt dripping onto his seats.

“You’re really just a whore, aren’t you? A pretty little whore, but still a whore.”

Your arms were growing weak, unable to hold you up anymore. You slid down onto your elbows from your hands, arching your back as high as you could.

He yanked your hair, the pain melting into pleasure that flooded down your body, “Look at me while I fuck you.”

You turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him. He was sweaty, hair stuck to his forehead and beads dripping down his face. His shirt was half unbuttoned, a peek of skin poking out, tie undone lying across his shoulders. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the veins that line his arms and hands.

He looked like a God.

You turned back around, not able to handle the feeling in your chest in conjunction with the feeling in your lower belly.

“I’m close,” You muttered between groans, Spencer taking his fingers to your puffy clit and drawing fast figure eights.

“Cum all over me like a good whore. My good whore.”

That was enough to push you over the edge, pulsing and groaning beneath him. With a few extra sloppy thrusts, he was pulling out and cumming all over your ass.

You sighed, feeling the high that always came with him, but the low that always came the second he left.

You didn’t move. He was opening the glove box in search of tissues, wiping himself and you off before fixing your skirt.

He helped you up, knowing that your knees and elbows would be sore from holding yourself up. When you stood, he grabbed your hands to steady you and ran his hands through your hair. You saw that same thing in his eyes again, a lightness that could easily be mistaken for love.

“You know, you really are a pretty girl,” he said, his hand tracing from where he tucked your hair behind your ear to your chin. There he cupped the side of your face softly, pulling you into him for a kiss.

You’d kissed him a million times before, but they were different. They were always hot and heavy and frustrated and passionate. This kiss was light, sweet, kind. The kind that could be mistaken for love.

When he pulled away, you smiled at him.

“I-“ you started, before cutting yourself off. This wasn’t healthy, but if this was what you got, you’d take it. Any time with him was valuable time.

“What? What is it?” His voice was low, the moon above his head.

You blushed, realizing just how close he was to you. You wondered how you’d slept with him many times and this somehow felt more intimate than all of those experiences combined.

“I-we should get home.”

He smiled, “Right.”

When you got in the car, you turned away, knees facing the door. He instinctively put his hand out to find your thigh, but found nothing.

He sighs, “Did I go too far? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I thought you liked–“

You laughed, voice only cracking slightly, “No, you were perfect.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He asked, voice high and nervous, nasally and wary.

“That is the problem,” You sighed, turning to look over at him. Even driving, he was somehow the most beautiful thing to ever grace this earth, “You’re perfect.”

He chuckled lightly, “Far from it.”

You reached out for where his hand was on the stick shift, placing your fingers over his, “Perfect.”

He looked over at you for a moment too long, car swerving as he did so.

You smiled, “Watch the road, Reid.”

He glanced between where his eyes should’ve been and where they wanted to be, “It’s hard to pay attention to the road with you here.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You said, sliding effortlessly back into the usual flirty banter. But the words left unsaid were on the tip of your tongue.

“Because I love you.”

He said it easily, honestly, more like a promise than a proclamation.

You squeezed his hand, the words falling over just as easily, “I love you too.”

He grinned, looking over at you once more, “I mean it. I don’t know when or where or how, but I fell in love with you, pretty girl.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, “I don’t know when or where or how, but I fell in love with you too, pretty boy.”

——————

Taglist:)

@slutforthegubes @safertokiss @tomorrowmeansoportunities @fullwattpadmusictree @helloniallslovelies @patronising-raven  @anthoqhila @chocolateflowerzipperbear @imjusthereformggcontent​ @haliekayy​ @drspencerreidscum @youre-a-wallflower-charlie​ @blameitonthenight21​

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Two]

Night Changes Series Masterlist 

Summary: The reader fucks up. The question is, why? Poe remembers the first time he had to say goodbye to her.   

Warnings: Angst, angst, language, sadness, violence, injury description, bacta-shot briefly described. WC-5,385

A/N: This one is super angsty with some great flashbacks! Get ready because after this chapter things really pick up, maybe some of that smut will make an appearance 👀

You slammed your bedroom door shut, anger and embarrassment coursing through you. You don’t think you had ever been as angry in your 14 years, wanting to scream and throw yourself on your bed to cry. Since your mother wasn’t home, you opted for the former, letting a shrill shriek escape, filling the room with your anger.

Even as you did this, you heard the front door open and close, fast footsteps on the floor telling you he was coming straight to your room. Damn, in your blind rage you forgot to lock the front door.

Not that locking the door had ever stopped Poe from getting into the Horn household.

“Go AWAY, Poe!”

His footsteps stopped just outside your door, the brainless, annoying, terrible Poe Dameron not stupid enough to try and open your door when you were this angry. Still, he called to you through the thin wood, voice strained with regret and worry.

“Please, I’m sorry-“

“You are not, you jerk!” You yelled back childishly, as a fresh wave of tears slipped out. At least he couldn’t see them. You caught your breath before continuing, “I saw you grinning over at Charlie when you punched Tahla! You enjoyed it!”

“He was touching you!” Poe responded, “Kissing you and touching your face! How else was I supposed to-“

“You were supposed to let me make out with the hot guy, Poe!” You growled, ripping open your door to glare daggers at your former best friend's face. Not expecting you to do this, he almost fell into the room as he had been leaning against the door. Once he straightened himself up, Poe frowned down at you, bewildered.

“I didn’t realize-I mean, I thought he was being fresh. Charlie thought so too.” As if your brother had anything to do with Poe’s overprotective reaction.

You gave him your worst look, marching further into your room and tossing your jacket on your bed angrily, hands gesturing wildly. “I’ve had a crush on Tahla for like, two months, Poe! He finally asks me out and gives me a pretty innocent kiss and then you come out of nowhere and punch him! In the face!”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring at your floor now as you worked to keep any more angry tears from coming. Poe was silent for a beat, then stepped a little further into your room cautiously, as though you were an enraged mudhorn.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t know any of that, I jumped to conclusions,” You gave a humourless laugh, because when did Poe ‘better to ask for forgiveness’ Dameron ever not jump to conclusions? “Honestly, I didn’t hit him too hard, he’ll be fine.”

You couldn’t help it, you stomped your foot. As though you were a small child. You were so incredibly frustrated, you actually stomped your foot down. With another angry cry, you stormed across the room and pushed Poe, who barely moved because even just two years older he was so much stronger, broader, solid. It only made you angrier, emphasizing every other word with another hit to his chest. “You kriffing idiot, Poe! He’s never going to speak to me again now! What gives you the right, huh?”

You finally looked up at him only to see a confusing mix of emotions cross his features, the most prominent of which appeared to be regret. “I’m really, really sorry. I’m just protective of you, I know I shouldn’t have done that.” He hung his head in shame, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck tiredly. You knew him far too well not to realize how sincere he was being.  

You softened, only a little. “Poe, look,” You wiped under your eyes as you considered your words, “I like that you’re protective, don’t get me wrong. I know you love me. But you can’t just do stuff like that! I didn’t punch that girl from Tatooine when I found you guys making out last year, did I?”

Poe gave a small laugh, nodding his agreement. “Yeah, I don’t know what came over me...I promise it won’t ever happen again. Unless,” He paused and looked at you, his head tilting slightly, signature grin reappearing, “Unless you ask me to.”

“Thank you,” You stepped closer, into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist as you gazed up at your...well, you suppose he could remain your best friend. He stiffened briefly before his arms wrapped around you in return. “Poe, I love you too, you know, you idiot.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

-

You had fucked up.

It wasn’t a planet-shattering mistake that cost lives or the mission but considering your fuck up occurred directly in front of Poe, it sort of felt like it was that bad. And really, what the hell had you been thinking? Weeks of working together without issue and today was the day the cold professionalism shattered thanks to your behaviour. Kriff. And fuck.

You couldn’t explain what came over you, one minute everything was going as much to plan as it could when infiltrating a small but well-manned First Order outpost for data. Suddenly, the next moment you were disregarding protocol to shoot a Storm Trooper outside of your zone, only to miss the one hiding within your zone and getting your ass handed to you. The pain in your gut increased somewhat as you remembered the hit you’d taken not so long ago.

Temmin suddenly flipped onto a private channel, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Black-2, uh, I’m leaving Black Leader to you on this one, if that’s okay.”

You sighed, “Yes, Black-3, understood. Best to avoid the area if you know what’s good for you.”

“Yeah, I’m not getting caught in the crossfire, Major.” He agreed, before wishing you luck and cutting out.

It was almost funny when you landed and saw Temmin hoofing it quickly away from the landing zone, Karê also nowhere to be found.

Great squad, leaving you to handle the Commander’s rage on your own, you thought bitterly to yourself despite knowing full well it was anger that was deservedly going to be aimed at you.

You groaned inwardly as you watched Poe land nearby. You knew he was livid because, after your egregious failure in judgement, he ceased speaking to you entirely, which was very uncharacteristic for Poe. You had been the one giving him the indifferent, haughty attitude, which simply drove him up the wall. Instead of getting angry, he just didn’t shut up, as if he hoped eventually he’d say something to pull you out and make him feel better. He wanted you to have a big reaction, so it was the last thing you were going to give him.  

He was going to yell now, though. And you’d let him because he was your commander, you had disobeyed orders, and that was all that mattered. You were so ashamed of yourself you hadn’t bothered to update him on your condition. Which was becoming increasingly uncomfortable because the hit you’d taken to your stomach had caught you so entirely off guard you weren’t braced in any way for the impact. And the Storm Trooper had packed a mean fucking punch.

You sighed heavily before moving to exit your X-Wing, grimacing at the pain and taking it slow. You’d go to the med bay once he was finished reprimanding you, and then you were going to bed. Where you’d stay for a few days and wallow, just because you could. Today had not been your day.

You waited patiently for Poe to climb down from his ship, watching his stiff movements, the way he all but threw his helmet on the ground. Standing as tall as you could manage without straining your aching belly too much, you jerked your chin up and met his eyes levelly, your expression respectfully neutral. You braced, ready to take your dressing-down.

At least it was quiet in the hangar.

“What, and I can’t stress this enough, the actual fuck was that, Major?” He barked, storming up to you and stopping only a few steps away, his hands on his hips. Briefly, you recalled the number of times in your life you’d seen him this angry, and how he’d always stand the same. That anger had never been directed at you before, however. “You know what, don’t answer that. Instead, tell me why you think you’re above basic protocol?”

“I don’t, Commander.” You replied evenly, holding his gaze as he glared at you with the power of seven suns. You fought down the part of you that wanted to snap at him because you needed to separate the Poe you once thought was a friend from the one in front of you who was your superior.

“Because protocol includes abandoning clearing your own zone to take over in mine. Did you think I was suddenly incapable of handling myself? Did something happen which led you to believe I was incapacitated?”

His voice hadn’t risen, now it was just steady, loud but he wasn’t exactly yelling. The dripping sarcasm was more than enough to get his message across. You took a steadying breath, then paused to try and stop yourself from wincing in pain.  

“I did not think you were incapable, sir. I-I...” You faltered here because you truly had no idea why you reacted the way you did.

It was simple enough; breach the base, take down as many as possible but be quick and get BB8 to the control room to steal important data that would be harder to get from a more well-manned and larger base. Protect the droid while he worked. And up to entering the control room, all had gone well enough. Captain Temmin Wexley and Kare Kun, Black-3 and Black-4 respectfully, were with you and Poe, stationing themselves at the doors to the control room while you and your Commander breached.

You took out several officers and Storm Troopers within your zone, and you did think you had cleared it. You really did, but you were in the process of following protocol and checking when movement across the room-in Poe’s zone-caught your eye.

And you did abandon your zone. Because when you saw the downed but obviously not dead trooper raise his blaster directly at Poe from just a few feet away, something inside of you simply responded, as natural as the instinct to blink when it was too bright, you had turned and aimed your blaster at that trooper and shot him directly in the middle of his helmet.

And then the Trooper who had been hiding in your zone had pulled you roughly back way by your hair, your scalp prickling from the force, and used your distraction to his advantage when he pummeled your stomach. He had hit the air straight out of your lungs and you knew you’d have collapsed to the ground if he wasn’t holding your hair.

He never did get the chance to consider raising his blaster to finish you off, though. Poe had charged him, one moment you were crying out in pain and the next he practically pounced on the trooper, who had released you to try and defend himself until falling limp to the floor with a blaster shot to the head, Poe having wasted no time in killing him.

You had stumbled back, hitting a wall and panting heavily, watching as Poe rose from atop the trooper, turned to look at you with fire in his eyes, and then just as quickly looked away. You weren’t stupid enough to say anything, so you simply worked to catch your breath, your eyes on the droid successfully stealing the data.

At your failure to explain yourself, Poe’s brows shot up so high they threatened to disappear into his hairline, and he stepped closer to look down at you. “I’m sorry, Major, didn’t quite catch that. You want to go ahead and speak up?”

You settled on a partial truth, having nothing more to offer. “I reacted to a threat to my Commander. Poorly, yes, and for that, I do apologize.” Your last word came out strained, the pain in your stomach becoming more than distracting now when you took in too much air.

Poe noticed, his brows dropping into a frown as he gazed at you, eyes moving from your face, which was sweaty, to your awkward posture. “Are you injured?” He demanded.

You nodded, “Slightly, sir. I’ll go to the med bay after.” Ah, fuck though, it did hurt. Maybe you should just stop talking altogether until you could get a bacta shot.

Crossing his arms, Poe leaned away from you and sighed as his expression softened a little, “Just go. And don’t pull that bullshit again. Fuck, you should have been excited at the prospect of seeing me get hurt, (y/n).”

You weren’t going to give that statement any acknowledgment because he knew it wasn’t true, he just said it to be mean. Pursing your lips, you gave him one curt nod before stepping around him and making your way out of the hangar. You didn’t look back, but you sensed his eyes on you as you hunched over, clutching your stomach and hobbling as quickly as you could.

Thankfully, the med bay wasn’t too far from the hangar, though it certainly felt a lot further now that you actually wanted to be there that exact moment. You garnered a few looks as you walked along, your expression was positively livid from the pain and the shame of the day. When you came through the doors of the med bay, you saw a nurse stationed in the entryway at a neat desk, where she typed away on a datapad.

When she glanced up at you, she did a double-take before jumping to her feet, her eyes landing briefly on your flight suit patch. “Major! My goodness, are you alright?”

You bit back an angry retort and settled on a pained grunt, pointing at your stomach. “Took a serious punch here, armoured trooper.” The nurse nodded at your explanation, stepping around the desk to help lead you around the corner where a room was set up with several beds. She indicated the nearest one, which you walked up to, hesitating to sit.

“I’ll just get a healer.” The nurse said kindly, hurrying through a set of doors to your left.

You shut your eyes, tears springing up the moment you were alone. You tried to hold them in, turning carefully and slowly, slowly lowering yourself to sit gingerly on the bed.

“Fucking fuck fuck!” You hissed, the movement and shifting of weight causing the pain to spike, your back tightening in protest.

A clearing of a throat alerted you that another person was in the room now, just in front of you based on how close they sounded. But you kept your eyes shut, afraid that if you opened them tears would fall, and you hated when anyone saw you crying.

“Major, I’m Healer Derrin. I’m going to quickly assess you before giving you a bacta shot. Is that alright?” His voice sounded kind enough, a little amusement laced in his words telling you he heard your less than ladylike cursing moments before. Not that you ever cared about being proper or delicate.

You nodded, “Sure thing, doc.” Eyes still pressed tightly closed, you jerked a little when his hands slid over your wrists, gently easing your hands from clutching your stomach. You dropped them to the bed and fisted the sheets as the healer began to prod your abdomen.

You couldn’t help it, you groaned in pain as he did this, fighting the urge to push him away.

“I know, you’re doing great. Listen, I need you to lay down so my med-droid can quickly scan you for internal bleeding, can you do that for me, honey?”

Normally anyone calling you ‘honey’ would earn a swift kick to the nuts, but given the nature of your predicament and the fact he was clearly trying to comfort you, you let it slide. Without a word, you let yourself go limp and tried to lay. He caught your shoulders and helped you, saying words of comfort as you swore repeatedly. The droid got to work the moment you settled, and it didn’t take long from there.

“I need to just unzip your flight suit to get access to your buttocks, Major.”

“Yep.” You replied tightly, not giving two shits how he went about giving you the shot. His hands moved with care and respect, though you wore the standard-issue white shirt underneath your suit. You knew a few female pilots who liked only wearing their bra beneath the suit and never understood their thinking. You liked to be prepared for anything, and sacrificing comfort for sexiness never did appeal to you.

Once he finished, his hands moved to your hip, rotating it slightly and moving the fabric of both your suit and your underwear aside, your left butt cheek now exposed. You felt something cold and wet on your skin, then the sting of a needle and then pure bliss as the bacta shot was injected.

Your body immediately sagged into the mattress, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the pain vanished. You opened your eyes as the droid removed the needle and the Healer began zipping you back up. And stars, the healer! He was like something straight out of a Corellian soap opera, the definition of tall, handsome and unfairly fit. And he was smiling at you, flashing bright white teeth as his blue eyes searched your face with professional care.

“Better?” He asked, laughing when you merely nodded happily, a noise of content humming out. So much better, you could fall asleep right that moment.

He helped you sit back up, though you didn’t need the help anymore. You felt amazing like you’d never known pain in your life. Bacta was the shit. You’d only had it twice before in your life, once when you were a teenager and the other time just after you’d joined the Resistance.

“Thank you, Healer, really.” You breathed, smiling up at him. You held out your hand, eager to correct your initial, though understandable, rudeness. “Major (y/n) Horn.”

Healer Derrin shook your proffered hand, returning your smile with his own. He had fair hair, a smattering of freckles that only made him that much more endearing, and you suddenly felt a little shy. Although he had just seen half your ass, so what was the point in feeling shy.

“Great to meet you, Major.”

“You too, wish it were under better circumstances, but I suppose this is the nature of our work.” You replied with a shrug, flushing slightly when he gave another warm laugh. You weren’t sure if you were flirting exactly, because you hadn’t done that in years, but it felt nice all the same. You’d mostly kept to yourself since coming to D’Qar, really only socializing with your team and a mechanic who had long hours. It had been a little lonely.

You stood, straightening your flight suit as the Healer entered a few notes into a datapad. “Now, if you have any sort of discomfort or pain in the next twenty-four hours please come straight here, but otherwise you’re good to return to duty.” He gestured toward the way out and you walked with him, pleasantly surprised he was walking you out. “If I can be bold, Major...?”

He stopped walking at the doors to the med bay, which opened as you turned to look up at the healer, curious. “How so?” But you could guess. He was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his eyes warm, an almost shy nature about him suddenly.

“I...I’ve seen you around, a couple of times only but you always, that is. Uh,” He paused, laughing to himself a little as he struggled, and you tried to give him a kind smile as you patiently waited for him to get it together. “I think you’re really pretty, and I’d love to take you for a drink sometime.”

Despite sensing where the conversation had been moving, it still didn’t prepare you. You’d had a few one-night rendezvous over the years, casual intimacy for the fun of it. But this was new, not so heat-of-the-moment but rather just a pleasant man complimenting you and asking you out. “Oh,” You grinned, “That’s sweet of you. I’d like that, Healer-“

“Rush, you can call me Rush.” He was smiling too, relieved.

“Rush,” You repeated, “Well Rush, you know where to find me when you want to get that drink.” And giving him one last smile and a little wink, you spun away and stepped into the hall, feeling a little giddy.

Until you saw the back of a familiar Commander disappear around the corner ahead, shoulders stiffer than when he’d climbed out of his X-Wing half an hour before. Huh.

++

Poe had experienced too many strong emotions for one day.

Though anger seemed to be the star of the day, which was new for Poe as generally his anger burned away quickly if ever it did come up-he just wasn’t one to sit in a single emotion for very long. Today though, he’d gone from shocked outrage to seething fury to whatever the fuck anger seeing you get asked out by some cocky Healer had brought on.

When he’d watched you leave the hangar, he saw the weird way you walked and knew you’d been hiding your injury the whole time he’d yelled, something that both impressed him and fed his anger. You were supposed to report injuries to him straight away, not let them fester until you were nearly ready to pass out.

Stars, you were fucking stubborn.

He’d followed you to the med bay, concern overriding everything else, and waited by the nurses' station while you were treated. He could hear you making pained noises, trying to bite back sobs, to hide how much you were hurting. You’d always been a bit of a masochist, preferring to suffer in silence, alone, whenever possible. He’d sat outside your door growing up plenty of times, listening as you sobbed, knowing you were aware he was there but unable to leave you alone. And you’d never really asked him to leave, so long as he stayed quiet and didn’t mention it when you eventually let him in the room.

Still, he’d always hug you and quickly claim it was for him, not you, and you’d just give a watery laugh and roll your eyes.  

When he heard you sigh happily getting your shot, he went out into the hallway and debated waiting for you. He still had words for you, still needed a proper explanation for your mistake, because you didn’t make mistakes. Not like that, during a mission, and certainly not simply to protect him. He thought perhaps you had wanted to clear his zone just to prove a point, to show off because you’d spent the last few weeks essentially ignoring him, giving him a shoulder so cold he wondered how you didn’t turn into fucking ice.

But when he turned in time to see the Stormtrooper you’d missed pull you back, he realized you hadn’t finished clearing your zone, you had not been trying to best him. You had actually, astonishingly, fucked up.

The surprise was far outweighed by the force that rose within him when he watched you take the hit, your little body just folding from the muscle behind the punch, your cry of anguish filling the air. Protectiveness, the likes of which he never felt toward another person, surged and aided him in tackling the trooper away from you at the same time he aimed his blaster and took the shot, killing him.

And when he stood up and saw you watching him, wide-eyed and clearly flustered, he became overwhelmed. Because you suddenly looked exactly like the (y/n) Horn he’d grown up with, all the walls and pretenses and cold shoulders stripped away just for a few seconds, revealing the you he knew so well underneath. It ripped at his heart, grief and longing swirling around as he thought of how much he missed you, missed Charlie, missed his old life.

So he let the anger take over because that was easier than trying to play it all off and scold you at that moment before promising to chew you out after the mission. No, he allowed you to see his fury and when he approached you back on base and saw you waiting for him with your head held high, he knew the message had been received, all the same, the old you locked back away and ready to cooly take your verbal punishment like any other good pilot.

Fuck, he hated this. Hated working with you and having to see every day the person you had become to him, what his actions and words had reduced you to. He’d seen you outside of missions, around the base and in the caf. You were content to be alone, occasionally sitting with Temmin or a friendly mechanic named Ana who was assigned to your ship. He never saw you out at the only cantina nearby, never even saw you laugh. You were like a shell of who you’d once been until Rush Derrin seemed to pull out an unfamiliar side of you when he’d asked you out.

And though he hadn’t yet figured out how to try and heal his relationship with you, Poe had been thinking about it constantly. What to do, how to say he was sorry. How to convince you without causing you to pull away even further. So the fact that a random guy had just managed to make you laugh, smile, agree to a date, well that was more than enough to fuel his anger.

The thing was, after Charlie, it was tough, hard as shit to deal with what his life was without you or your brother. After some time, he learned how to lock it all back, avoid it as much as possible to protect himself. Because he hadn’t had any luck in figuring out where you’d gone and he was losing hope he’d be able to find you and beg for forgiveness. But then, working with you these last weeks had proven that those years apart had been easy, so fucking easy, compared to the pain and misery of being so close to you again but feeling like a different person. Feeling like you weren’t the (y/n) he remembered and wondering if she was lost forever, that he’d never be able to find his way back to her. Which meant that Poe would never breathe freely again, didn’t it?

He hadn’t breathed properly since Charlie’s funeral.

Poe wanted to punch something, but he hurried away before you could see him and instead went straight to his room, where he would spend the next hour standing under scalding hot water. It was an attempt to help him clear his mind, though once he relaxed enough it only ended up wandering right back to you, to memories he’d locked away for years, his walls crumbling useless heaps now.

-

“You know, I’m really going to miss you, Poe. Is it bad that I don’t want you to leave?”

Poe looked down at you where you lay curled into his side, the two of you lounging together on your bed, a night like a million others only this one was different, final.

It was the last night before he and Charlie shipped off to basic training, to become real pilots with the Resistance far, far away. He was beyond excited as he’d been dreaming of joining for as long as he could remember, but torn because you still had two years before you’d be joining them, and even then you’d be doing basic and kept busy with that until you could be assigned. He could only hope that he and Charlie were assigned to the base by the time you came along, but it all seemed too far away, too much time apart.

“No, I get it,” He replied, tightening his arm around your shoulders, “I’m going to miss you more than anything on this entire planet, sweetheart. I don’t...I’m not even sure how to exist without you, you know?” Truthfully, his entire life orbited around you. He wasn’t sure what it would do to him to leave.

You hummed sadly in agreement, “At least you’ll have Charlie. I have to figure out how to live without either of you,” Your voice broke, and you paused to try and prevent yourself from crying. Poe waited for you to continue, but let his tears fall freely because fuck, this hurt. “Thought I’d be ready for this, but these last few months together have just flown by and now you’re both leaving and I’m going to be alone.”

And there, there were the tears you so often refused to give in to, springing free and pulling sobs from deep within your chest. When you did cry, it only ever seemed to be for Poe. He was the only person you let take care of you, the only one allowed to see the vulnerability.

He sat up, pulling you with him and tugging you into his lap, his arms crushing you against him as you both cried. He always adored how well you fit in his arms. How perfect it felt to press his face into your neck, hold your body against his. He was going to miss this, miss you, so fucking much.

You were right; the last few months together did fly by, and he still hadn’t told you...but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, not now, not with so much time apart literally on the horizon. He’d debated the same thing for years, questioning his decisions these last few weeks because they were going to be the last together for quite some time. But you were his best friend, he didn’t want to risk anything right now by admitting...well, there was no point in thinking about it anymore.

He and Charlie were leaving, and you were going to have to live here without them for the first time in your life. They would be busy and together, you would be on your own. He wasn’t going to add another layer of baggage to your shoulders before leaving.

Of course, they would write, possibly visit once or twice but there were so many variables to that possibility there was no point in getting his hopes up that it would happen. Two years, in the grand scheme of the universe they were nothing, minimal, no time at all. But even just a night away from you had become unbearable to Poe. As much as he was ready and excited to go, he knew he was leaving half his heart behind and he was content with sitting in that and being miserable about it here with you safely tucked into his arms.

“You will never be alone, sweetheart, not really.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair, one hand absentmindedly rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

You clung to him tighter then, your face pressed into his neck as a fresh wave of sobs wracked your body, and Poe joined you because saying goodbye, even for just a little while, was the fucking worst.

Poe and you stayed together all night, eventually falling asleep for a few hours before dawn brightened your room and you each awoke. Saying your goodbye’s and I love you’s until Charlie joined you, sandwiching you between him and Poe and giving you both the saddest grin.

And in those final moments where life was just the three of you, Charlie promised you’d all be together again. That you would fly together on the same Squadron before you could blink, fight until you won the war and spend the rest of your years laughing and flying and living until you were all old and grey and cranky.

And you’d each felt better because when Charlie made a promise to either of you, he never let you down.

Poe continued to stand under the running water, his anger now faded, replaced with an indescribable sorrow. His choked sobs filled the otherwise quiet space, long after the water turned cold and night settled in outside.

Taglist:

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi Week Day 1- Jutsu Creation

Pairing: Kakagai

Words: 1927

AO3

@kakashiweek

No longer having Obito’s Sharingan was a loss. A disadvantage that left Kakashi more vulnerable. Unable to fight as well as he had during the fourth great shinobi war, and incapable of being made the new Hokage of Konoha.

That’s just a few of the rumours that Kakashi had heard whispered around the village since his appointment as Hokage. Judgements that had been a part of his life since his father had been shunned when he was a child. Forever growing and changing as the years went by.

Except for this time, there was no truth to the rumours.

The things being said about him were factually wrong, and the only people who believed them and passed them onto the next person were civilians. Those who had no real idea how chakra worked. Who didn’t know what a strain on his chakra reserves the Sharingan had been?

They would know better of course if they saw Kakashi in action. If they just happened to pass by the training field near the Hokage’s residence at moments like this. When Kakashi was in the midst of his daily training, his Anbu guards were hidden away in the tree lines watching over him as always.

Just five minutes of watching Kakashi would tell them everything they needed to know about just how the loss of Obito’s Sharingan had affected him. How much more he could do without the Sharingan constantly eating away at his chakra reserves, even when he wasn’t using it.

Then of course, if too many people were watching he wouldn’t be able to train with the same intensity. Creating a new Jutsu was always a dangerous activity. Not knowing exactly what it was he would get as a result meant that he could accidentally end up hurting someone who was a little too close when he made his next attempt. Plus Kakashi just wasn’t someone who enjoyed being watched. Anbu operatives he could forget about. It was their job to go unnoticed, even if he could still feel their presence. But civilians didn’t know how to hideaway. They’d stand out in the open gawking and whispering among each other. Disrupting his concentration.

It was better than he was able to focus. He’d be able to get it right faster if he was able to keep working uninterrupted. That was, of course, if he managed to get anywhere at all.

“It’s still not right,” Examining the mud wall that he had produced, Kakashi sighed. The goal was to create something stronger than the standard mud wall Jutsu. Something that would be able to withstand more abuse without breaking down. Yet no matter how he changed the hand signs that he weaved, or how much Chakra he tried to focus into the Jutsu, nothing had changed yet. It was a larger mud wall Jutsu, and the dogs that appeared in his Jutsu specifically were still present, but other than that it was still made of the same weak material. “Maybe if I try it one more time and focus a bit more chakra into it. I’m sure with just a little bit more effort…”

There were at least three more solid attempts left in him before his chakra reserves became dangerously depleted. Not quite putting him in danger of being bedridden with chakra exhaustion, but enough to put him on his ass for the rest of the night and tomorrow if he pushed a little too hard.

“Two more tries,” he decided, turning his attention back to the wall that he had already created. When he brought forth the next one, this one would crumble apart under the strain created when the new one was formed underneath it. He had already seen so many of his attempts crumble away as if they were nothing.

A constant reminder of why he was trying to create this new Jutsu. To build a stronger wall that would hold more strain. One that would keep standing, even if he tried to build another wall under it.

“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Turning his head, Kakashi felt all of the pent-up stress washing out of his body at the sight of that stunning, toothy grin that Gai always had on his face. “Genma said you’ve been training since lunchtime. I think it’s time for a break, don’t you?”

Gemma, the traitor. He was going to have to have a talk with his friend about telling about him Gai.

“Mah, you act as if I’m about to collapse at any moment,” reaching his hands up into the air, he stretched his body up towards the sky and watched as Gai maneuvered his wheelchair over the grassy field towards him. “Speaking of relaxing. You haven’t been-“

“You know me, Rival,” Gai cut him off, his smile only growing when Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “Just because I require a wheelchair to get around now, doesn’t mean there aren’t things that I can still do to challenge myself.”

Of course. He should have known that there would be nothing that could stop Gai from doing what he wanted, even with a broken leg that would never heal again. It only made sense that he would find new ways to challenge himself, and so long as he wasn’t straining his injured leg Kakashi didn’t care to stop him. After all, that was Gai. Never giving up no matter what obstacles he may face in life.

“One more try,” he offered, smiling when Gai levelled him with a doubtful look. “Just one more, I promise. And then we can go grab something to eat. How does that sound?”

The look that Gai gives him in return is a cross between doubtfulness and pride. An interesting combination, but judging by the fact that Gai was locking his wheels into place and relaxing into his chair he could assume that the deal was made.

Which meant he had one more attempt. One final try to make even the slightest amount of progress. To prove to himself that he wasn’t just wasting his time on this endeavour and that a new powerful Jutsu could be created if he just kept at it a bit longer.

Turning to face the wall he had just created, he took a deep breath and began to focus his chakra into his hands and imagined the wall that he wanted to create. One was made out of a stronger mineral. Something that could handle the abuse rained down on it from an attack striking it constantly.

In his mind, it was a beautiful mixture of purple and green. Jagged and sharp to touch and solid.

A Jutsu that could protect his village. That would keep all of his friends safe, no matter what attack it had to hold off. So that he never had to see someone he cared about die again or…

His eyes darted back towards Gai, lingering on his leg for a moment.

A Jutsu to protect his precious people.

“One more try,” he reminded himself, focusing his attention back on the training field and digging his heels into the ground. “You can do this, Kakashi.”

Gai, Naruto, Sakura, Tenzo, Sai, Sasuke. The list of people he wanted to protect was endless, and while some of them could do the job infinitely better than him he still wanted to try. What good would he be as Hokage if he couldn’t even protect his precious people?

The hand signs were easy enough to weave. Already cemented in his memory from the multiple tries he had made before this. In the blink of an eye, he had finished weaving the signs and slammed his hands down against the ground, his eyes glued on the space in front of him as a giant wall rose from the ground to protect him from an imaginary foe.

It was mud. Still, just mud.

“Damn it.”

“It looks stronger than before,” hearing Gai’s voice getting closer to him, Kakashi turned his head to the side and watched as his best friend wheeled up to his side. “Your hard work is paying off, Rival!”

It was amazing how Gai could look at anything and see success. Even with the biggest failures, he could find something to celebrate. The smallest bit of success to focus on, while Kakashi dwelled on the failure.

“It’s just mud,” resting a hand on his hip, he glared at the wall in front of him. “Nothing has changed.”

“Sometimes looking at the bigger picture makes you miss the small victories,” Rolling further ahead, Gai stopped directly in front of the wall and reached out to tap his finger against a small portion of the wall. A spot where, if he focused hard enough, Kakashi could see the smallest glimmer of purple. “It may not be much, but it is an improvement. Don’t you agree?”

Waiting for Gai to lower his hand, Kakashi slowly reached out to touch the wall. Almost not believing what his eyes were seeing, he expected to feel the mud. brittle and flimsy, but effective for a short period. What he felt instead was a solid rock-hard surface. Not jagged, but stronger than mud could ever hope to be. “Since when are you the insightful type?”

“Well, someone has to pick up the slack when you’re too busy being down on yourself,” giving his head a shake, Kakashi dropped his hand back down to his side and turned to face Gai. “Ready to grab something to eat now?”

“That sounds amazing,” He could continue his training in the morning after a nice long rest. For now, he could enjoy some downtime with his best friend. “on one condition.”

“Kakashi…”

“No, hear me out,” Gai would probably think he had lost his mind, but it was worth a shot. “We should have an eating competition.”

Gai’s jaw dropped open. “Did you just-“

“Don’t tell me you’re not up for it,” doing a one hundred eighty-degree turn, Kakashi gave Gai a playful wave. “Come on. I bet I can beat you no problem.”

His teasing was met with a triumphant shout. One that could easily shatter the windows in a building, if they were close enough to one. “I’ll win this challenge Rival, don’t doubt it!” He proclaimed with the same pride and enthusiasm that he always had when it came to their challenges. “And once I do I’ll be ahead of you in points once again!”

“We’ll be tied,” Kakashi corrected him as he started to make his way towards the exit. “You keep forgetting about the Sushi eating competition!”

“This will be a rematch of that then! And I’ll prove to you once and for all that I can beat you in anything!” The sound of Gai’s wheelchair moving behind him brought a smile to Kakashi’s face. One that he could only explain with a single word. Relief.

Relief that he hadn’t had to say goodbye to another friend.

That he didn’t have another name to look at in the memorial stone.

For that, he would gladly have another hundred challenges without complaint.

“I will win,” Gai’s voice called out to him. A blinding smile greeting him when he looked over at his friend. “I can promise you that, Rival.”

“Well, If you do then I’ll just have to spend the whole night working on my Jutsu,” He decided, chuckling when Gai’s eyes went wide. The use of his impossible punishments not going over his head, even when they came from Kakashi’s mouth. “After all, I can’t let you beat me at everything.”

[ukcyo]

sehnsucht.

❦ summary ; as all of you wait to reach your destination, reiner and you are entangled in each other’s arms. there isn't any other place you'd feel at home than here, lying next to him.

➳ pairing ; reiner braun x reader

➳ genre ; angst, hurt/comfort, tinge of fluff

➳ warnings ; spoilers for chapter 129 and beyond, mentions of death

Slumber was meant for serenity and comfort, a brief escape from the disappointing (in your case—devastating) fact that was reality. Yet, this world remains as cruel and sadistic as ever, placing you into the realm of nightmares in order to prohibit you from even enjoying an ounce of rest.

Seeing the sea painted red, millions of lifeless bodies floating aimlessly, was enough to blast you awake.

Cold sweat overtakes you as your chest heaves rapidly, the horror of what you saw still vividly fresh in your mind. It makes you reel, eyes moving frantically as you remain unaware if this was reality or not, your heart pounding so hard it was as if it was going to explode.

But as soon as your eyes land on the man lying next to you, arm protectively wrapped around your waist, your body immediately relaxes.

Reiner’s eyes are shut close, his lips slightly parted as small huffs of breath consistently escape from between them. His expression was peaceful, which was something that greatly contrasted the sorrow and desolation that was frequent on his features from the moment you finally saw him after four years. You can’t help but feel a bit of joy and relief at noticing this, for it had been a while since you’ve seen him so serene and calm, as if the arduousness of life had failed to penetrate him. Seeing him like this was enough to tell you that what you saw was just a nightmare.

Seconds later, however, he begins to stir, eyes slowly opening to reveal their gleaming hazel color. You must have woken him up due to your rustling.

Reiner’s eyes immediately fall onto you, haziness still deeply laced into them due to the fact that he was still half-asleep. Your heart leaps when you feel his hand softly rub circles into your waist, the gesture bringing great comfort to you. Instinctively, you turn your body towards him, wanting to feel this as long as possible. His warmth and affection was the only thing keeping you together at the moment. It was the only thing preventing you from thinking just how plausible your nightmare was.

Yet, as soon as you do this, Reiner’s hands gently clutch your cheeks, tilting your head upwards. His eyebrows are furrowed in immense concern, the sleepiness present in his eyes now all gone.

“What’s wrong? You’re shaking...”

Curse his perceptiveness. 

And curse you for not noticing that you were still deeply bothered.

“I...It’s nothing,” you reassure quietly, hoping to everything that your voice doesn’t betray you. You close your eyes as you rest the weight of your face on the hands that continued to caress your cheeks, focusing on completely calming yourself by the utter warmth and care emitted by them. Reiner’s hands were calloused and rigid, most likely stemming from all the strain and battles they were subjugated to. But despite that, they managed to make you feel like you are right where you belong.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you followed up, guilty over your actions. He was probably really tired and that brief sleep would have helped him a lot, “I know how exhausted and worn out you are.”

He feels a pang of shame from your apology. Even back then, during your training days and well into joining the Survey Corps, you had always managed to look through him like transparent glass. Despite how well Reiner acted as an older brother, carefully crafting his persona, you knew it was all an act. You knew how tired he got, how much he often wanted to break down and cry from both the hidden guilt and stress that came from the crimes in pursuit of completing their mission. And each time you noticed, you were there to comfort him. You always looked out for him, for his wellbeing, and always put his needs above yourself. Before he knew it, he was always crying to you about how tired he was, how he didn’t realize how difficult this all really was. Even if you didn’t know what he was really talking about, you never failed to listen, giving him the advice that allowed him to continue moving forward.

You were a savior, someone who always managed to give him a brief taste of solace. He grew intoxicated and soon, he wasn’t only falling in love with the way you gave him brief peace. He fell in love with your voice, the way your cheeks would rise when you threw a solid, ecstatic grin towards his way, how your eyes twinkled under the moonlight--he fell in love with you and the way you made him feel. It blinded and cursed him, because his love for you further tore him in half. And through this all, through all the conflict and inner turmoil, he never even thought of what you were going through.

And yet, four years later, during the end of the world, as both of you lay on this bed, entangled in each other’s arms, your cheeks snuggly resting against the palm of his hand, you never changed. Even after feeling the rapid rate of your heartbeat, your body shaking in fright, you still put him first. You thought about his wellbeing instead of your own.

How selfish and undeserving he was.

“[y/n] please... Please don't do that, I want you to tell me what's wrong," he pleads, tears already accumulating in his eyes, "You always think about how I feel, but you never think about your own."

You stiffen as you open your eyes to stare at Reiner in shock. Your heart sinks as you once more see guilt and self-loathe painted across his features, his staple expressions. The past four years that you shared away from each other has truly scarred and battered him in such a ghastly manner.

You clasp his hands that continue to tenderly encage your cheeks.

"I'm alright, I promise. It was just some stupid nightmare," you reassure with a tranquilizing tone. Yet, even after saying so, you can still clearly see the despondency in his expression. You can see the poison of diffidence littered all over his eyes, the tears that were still crumpled around their rims only further magnifying it.

He was suffering so much.

"You still don't believe me," you admit sadly, eyes downcast to prevent yourself from also tearing up, "Reiner, I know I already told you this but I'm much more selfish than you give me credit for. Even back then, I... A major reason onto why I was always there to comfort you was because it made me feel important, that my life was more than just constant danger. I wanted to keep that to myself, to keep you to myself. I never even once suggested you try telling the others about what you were feeling, because I wanted you to continue to look at me like I was the only light of your life. Because everytime you looked at me like that... I feel like the future is brighter than it seems to be."

His eyes widen as you bite your lip in pure, utter shame. Admitting this part of yourself burned you much more than you thought it would.

"I love you, Reiner, and I always will. That's why I always prioritize you and your feelings. That's why I could never completely hate you after you betrayed us all those years ago, no matter how much I should've," you confess breathlessly, "But to say that I do so selflessly is a lie in itself. I'm not that good of a person, and I honestly think none of us are. This cruel world makes sure of that."

You finally have the courage to look at him again, telling yourself that you'll accept the hurt and betrayed expression that will be present on his face. After all, you just shattered the idealized perception he had of you.

To your surprise, you were met with a genuinely delighted smile instead.

It was as if something heavy was lifted off of Reiner's chest after hearing you tell him all of those hidden thoughts. He feels extremely light, the exquisite taste of euphoria that he hasn't felt in such a while being so vividly present on his tongue.

You didn't love him out of pity. You love him because his presence gives you joy and satisfaction.

"Thank you. I'm... I'm so happy."

You're speechless, completely caught off guard from this unexpected reaction.

"Wh- I don't understand," you stammer, thoughts in disarray, "I just admitted to you that I-"

"You love me," Reiner reiterates with a much more cheerful tone than usual, "You love me because of who I am and how I make you feel. You don't love me because you think I need it."

You realize the reason behind his ecstatic reaction with your confession. Seeing Reiner so undeniably happy also made you feel similar sentiments, but the fact that he thought of your love in such a completely different way also planted a small seed of disappointment.

Your hand leaves his hand to caress his cheek instead, the small hairs that formed his goatee slightly tickling your palm.

"I never thought of you as a charity case," you whispered with a tone that sounded more pained than you intended, "I didn't fall in love with you because of your pain. I would hate myself if I did."

His tears finally spills over, its path down his cheeks being cut short by your hand.

If only things were different. If only they didn't turn out this way. He would've--

"I wish I married you beforehand," Reiner admits, "That way, when I end up dying from trying to save the world now, I wouldn't have any regrets. Because half of me would have continued living in you."

There it was. The toxic substance of lamentation. You felt the same, having the same thoughts over and over again for the time after learning of the truth behind the walls and what Reiner and the others had to go through. What if, if only, if only you didn't do this, what if you did that. It was a never ending cycle of pain, grief, and hurt that damaged you beyond mention. But as time passed, so did those emotions, and you found yourself accepting that the damage had been done. All you can do now is move on with the present and do better.

Reiner had never broken out of that cycle and you'd be damn to let him continue being in it.

"How do you know you will die," you question, "It's not like it's set in stone. We can still do it, we can still get married after all of this is over. All you have to do is survive. You have to fight to live as much as you can. I know I will, for you."

He gasps in surprise before his expression softens after internalizing your words. The Warrior was finding himself getting lost and intoxicated in the look of hope and adoration in your eyes, just like he did back then. You are a drug that attaches to him like glue and he will always embrace it full-heartedly.

"So let's survive for each other. Let's survive for a future we both deserve."

Reiner couldn't even bear to fathom what kind of emotions surged through him when the most heavenly smile etched across your lips after saying those words of promise. He felt like he was basking in the presence of a goddess, because it was almost impossible someone like you are real. Someone as ethereal and lovely as you can't possibly exist on this Earth. Yet here you are, hand wrapped around his cheek, saying you'll survive so you can still marry him.

"Can I kiss you," he timidly requests, voice barely above a whisper. He wanted more of your touch, your essence to envelop him whole, but a part of him still feels so unworthy of it.

A small, disbelieving chuckle escapes from you. You thought he would never ask.

"Please."

In an instant, Reiner guides your head closer to his until his lips finally meets yours. His lips were still as soft as they were four years ago, the sweetness and elation they provided you filled up the crevices of your soul. There was nothing on this earth that can defeat the way Reiner's lips felt against yours. There was no force that can match the passion and fervor that was present in the way his lips moved against yours, the action itself telling you just how vast his love for you was.

As exhilarating kissing Reiner was, you were more ecstatic over what this kiss meant to both of you. It was his promise, his promise to you that he will do his best to survive. The way that both of you are in a current liplock, joined as one, demonstrated his vow to make it out of this alive in order to join both of your lives together in marriage.

You wish this would never end.

You wish time wasn't so inevitable.

Reiner slowly parts from you after a while, his eyes looking at each and every feature on your face. He engraves the way you look right now in his mind, the memory of it already being one of his most treasured.

His thumb gently scrapes away at your cheekbones, as if to take something away. You didn't realize that you were crying.

"I will love you even after death. But you're right, I don't have to die so soon," Reiner confesses with sincerity, before returning to wrap his arms around your form once more. He flushes you against his chest as he places a loving kiss on the top of your head.

"I promise you. We'll both survive."

hellooo !! this is my very fic/ one-shot made on this site :'^ i hope you enjoy it as much as it was both fun and hurt to write lol

i'm still trying to navigate through tumblr and how to use it so i hope you bear with me !! thank you once again <33

[liam-cadmus]

Sasuke slowly blinks his eyes, as the light shines from the window, the offending light making his sensitive eyes close in response. He lets out a silent grunt, as one arm escapes from where it’s twined with Shikamaru, gently prodding it away.  He uses his freed hand to rub his tired eyelids, stifling a yawn with his palm afterwards. He slowly detaches his limbs, gently laying his tired, overworked lover back to bed, tucking the blankets around him. he coos a bit when hands latch on his shirt, grip tight and unrelenting. “I’ll be right in the kitchen, don’t worry.” he tells him, his hands closing over Shikamaru’s and pulling it away. He pecks his partner’s forehead, slowly trailing to his nose, then cheeks, before leaving a swift one on the lips. He chuckles quietly at the groan of frustration Shikamaru lets out, as he slips from the bed. He closes the curtains shut, before leaving the door open, as he walks to the kitchen.  He avoids the urge to grind the coffee beans, considering that Shikamaru stayed awake so late, and that he has a bit of an addiction to caffeine. He fills the kettle, whistling a tune that had gotten stuck on his head because of his lover’s humming. He pours the hot water to the tea pot, letting it steep for a few minutes before straining it to two mugs. He decides that he’ll just prepare tea again later, and not let the extra one to waste. “I’m surprised you’re preparing tea, it’s unlike you.” Shikamaru drawls sleepily, making him turn his head on the direction of the noise. “Do you honestly expect me to brew coffee when you clearly haven’t slept much?” he retorts before placing the tea back down. “...No.”  He sighs before walking closer to Shikamaru, raising an eyebrow. “You look dead on your feet, do you want tea?” he asks, even though he knows the other man is far too sleepy to stay awake. A mumbled disagreement and a silent ‘I’m not tired’ as a retort is heard before he clicks his tongue softly, reprimanding the man in an albeit exasperated tone. “Back to bed, you look like shit.” Shikamaru scowls at him, offended, before relenting to his insistent tugging to the bed. “You’re tired, just sleep please?” he asks, fondly smiling when he feels the taller man slouching on his back, eyes barely open.  “Idiot.” is the affectionate whisper he utters before making Shikamaru lay back down on the bed. He watches with an adoring gaze as his partner settles back down, letting out a discontented noise at the lack of warmth on his side.  Seeing his partner buried under their blankets and dozing off always gave a warm tender feeling to his bones, the flames overheating him hotter than his clan’s scolding fire jutsus. Emotions overwhelm his whole being, breaking whatever stoic mask he used.  Shikamaru deserves to be pampered every once in a while, the man hardworking to fulfill everyone’s needs. He’s Sasuke’s refuge, his escape, and he’s very appreciative of all the work he’s done, and besides, his urge to indulge Shikamaru is rising again.  The stubborn, independent Nara has his limits, and Sasuke will make sure he’s there for him, will do anything just to be in the genius’ arms. He thinks it’s fair that he can be a doting lover, after all, Shikamaru was there to catch him, even though so many people are relying on him.  Contrary to popular belief, Shikamaru does not have complete confidence on himself, always anxious if the plans that he gives is correct, and that no one’s gonna get affected if he got it wrong. (Sasuke just wants him to see that he’s brilliant, that he’s very clever and that he shouldn’t think he isn’t. Sadly, he’s just one man, but he can see the thankful smile and the way his partner perks up ever so slightly.) He wants scowl and glower at the people who think Shikamaru is everything but kind, who thinks he’s condescending, boastful rude being, even though the genius is just far too blunt and honest, that he accidentally insults people without meaning to. He wants people to see that the smartest shinobi of their generation is just human, and that he’s breaking under the stress and pressure. The Nara he’s seen is the one who works so damn hard and that no body gives credit for the things he do, the one who was thought of independent and left alone by the other jounins and chunins, even though he can’t do everything by himself. The Nara that goes out to watch the clouds or nap after doing so much work and only gets judged for being lazy. The one that would push aside his work and problems, just to tell him other stories with a sweet smile, his tan, soft, deft hands intertwining with his own. He’s protective person by heart and by clan, attaching himself to someone with his whole being and consciousness, that he would break if he’s separated with his loved ones. Shikamaru is the only man, the only person who can make an Uchiha like him to lose his calm and collected persona, the one who can turn him from a stone cold-hearted warrior to a attentive, caring man with just a smile. He would let his defenses fall, his unbreakable pride to shatter to millions of pieces without thinking twice, the one who would make him kill platoons of enemies just to keep him safe.  He knows Shikamaru, so much, that he would trade everything, because he loves fiercely.  He shakes himself out of his thoughts, before hurrying along, knowing that Shikamaru hates not having warmth beside him while sleeping, which he admits that he also hates. He swiftly makes a hearty breakfast, letting miso soup boil as the rice cooks in the saucepan, while cooking eggs with furikake. He grills a bit of fish, placing some cherry tomatoes in his own plate. He spares a glance to the window, only to see a light orange hue passing through the transparent glass, the light just reaching the meadows, sun peeking out of the horizon. He places the food in the stasis seal, the food kept warm. He pushes the door ajar slightly, as he sits by the edge, thumb pressing on his knee. He extends his hands to Shikamaru’s loose unruly locks, the hair tie by the pillow. His Sharingan accidentally activates as he lets his gaze over his partner, memorizing every inch, eidetic memory proving helpful, the image ingrained in his mind separated from the bad ones.  “Stop that,” a sleepy grumble, as his Sharingan shuts off fast as lightning, making him a bit dizzy from the abrupt cut of chakra to his eyes. Shikamaru rolls his eyes, before tugging him closer, making him the one to be the little spoon this time, throwing a leg over him.  He quietly exhales, eyes closing as Shikamaru’s earthy, calming chakra soothes his nerves, grounding him. He stays silent as his fingers trace random shapes onto Shikamaru’s back, eyes unfocused. He feels the rhythmic beating of Shikamaru’s heart from where his ear is pressed against, air blowing against his bedridden hair. Minutes pass by without his notice, before the pads of tan fingers trace the seals on either side of his eyes, thumb grazing it lightly with chakra, the pathways smoothing out with the pleasant touch. “Why did you just sit there? You could’ve just laid down beside me.”  “Hn, I don’t know,” he offers a shrug, raising his eyes to Shikamaru’s nose bridge, absent-mindedly avoiding his eyes. “Stop avoiding eye contact, Su, it’s fine.” His mouth opens to an O shape before flicking it to warm brown eyes, not noticing he’s been doing it. “Force of habit.”  A sigh was let out before his partner asks, “Do you wanna talk about the nightmare?”  He contemplates the question in his head, knowing that Shikamaru is just genuinely curious and wouldn’t press him if he doesn’t want to. “Not right now, maybe later?” he asks, earning a understanding hum.  “Now, did you get enough sleep?” he asks with narrowed eyes, a concerned lilt to his voice. “Enough?”  “Did you get at least 4 hours of sleep?” he asks instead, huffing. “You’re such a mother hen, I’ve slept most of the afternoon yesterday, so I could stay up.” A amused glint is present in the deep sepia eyes, an irritating fond smirk present on chapped lips.  “But you admit you like the affection? Baby?” he teases, liking the color of his partner’s cheeks and ears turning red. “Sappy shit.” Shikamaru tiredly mumbles, before he sits up, melodramatically sighing out loud. “Come on, let’s eat breakfast.” Shikamaru urges, disappearing to the bathroom, a reminder echoing out.  “We have forever to spend on, I know, just come brush your teeth, Sas.”  ‘And you’d wake up beside me for every sunrise for however long forever lasts.’ Part 1 | Shikamaru

[compassion-of-a-lightner]

I’ve never shared my writing like this before, but I figured since tumblr now hates links I might as well?

This is my fanfiction on Deltarune.

It’s centered around the scene in which Susie rushes into Noelle’s room during the Snowgrave route.

The first and last lines of the piece are what she says directly before and after exiting the room as it's meant to convey that short visit- with creative liberties on the time-scale obviously.

No content warnings

2,845 words

Romance | Hurt/comfort

Exists on Fanfiction dot net and Ao3, links available through my #my work tag, this is a mirror upload.

“Susie’s Ultimate Healing Technique”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself!” Susie growled as she whipped open the door and slammed it between them.

With a huff, she glared behind her before taking a deep breath to center herself.

‘Keep your cool. They can pay later, for whatever the hell their problem is.’

She glanced to her hand as a familiar sensation began to flood past her anger, “Fuck.” she muttered under her breath.

That door had been locked.

‘It’d hurt less to kick it to scrap.’ she grinned as she clenched her fist, looking up to the darkness around her. ‘But then I couldn’t slam it in their stupid faces, heh. Good riddance. Now if they don’t mind, I’ve got to be the hero this time around.’ she thought smugly.

The room lay dim; Most things blur into their surroundings unless you squint through the shade. While trying to discern if any of the shapes were Noelle, Susie felt another familiar sensation.

It was cold.

She exhaled and watched her breath disappear into the darkness before her.

Freezing.

Susie furrowed her brow, this didn’t make sense.

There was no one here. She expected to find the Queen’s minions surrounding Noelle or perhaps an elaborate cage trapping her, instead it was just another simple room.

As the thought left her she spotted exactly what she was looking for shifting just across the room.

In the center of the back wall sat a bed under a windowsill. Curtains drawn allowing the night sky to pour in and providing a means to see part of the room.

Sitting on the bed was a shivering pile of blankets, was it Noelle? Whoever it was sat bundled up, staring out the window.

Susie couldn’t help but smile as she took a step closer only to be interrupted by a quiet demand.

“Leave.” came a cold voice. It seemed to quake in their throat as it came, but it was more than enough to freeze Susie in her boots. It made her feel strange.

Her smile left, replaced with uncertainty and concern.

“I said LEAVE.” The voice shouted, straining itself as a piercing wind carried hail from the voice’s perch towards Susie.

Holding her arms up to shield herself from the sudden cold, Susie played off instinct. “Hey! What the hell!?” she shouted, pulling her axe out of the darkness and striking a menacing stance, “You cold bastard, where’s Noelle? Hand her over!” she snarled, showing her teeth at the opportunity to fight.

The wind billowed frantically before suddenly stopping in its tracks, hail falling to the ground with a shatter.

The figure didn’t move.

Susie stomped her foot as she took a step closer, “Do you HEAR me, asshole? Where is she?!”, her voice carried a threatening hiss.

Silence. A momentary stalemate.

The figure shifted. Susie could just barely make out that they were tightening the blankets around themselves. It was ignoring her. This pissed her off.

Her lips curled back to bare her full toothy maw once more as her patience ran thin.

Her eyes hinged on going fully rabid as she stared through the figure, “What’s wrong? Freeze your mouth shut with that attack?” She slammed the head of her axe into the ground before her and with a sinister snicker she continued, “You know what? I’m actually glad one of you assholes showed up to ambush me. I’ll show you what a real monster looks like in the dark!” she growled as the sound of snapping wood accompanied her axe being pulled out of the flooring.

She took another weighted step closer as she readied her axe for whatever their next attack would be, only to be frozen solid not by the figure’s magic but by the noise they began to hear.

She blunk, dumbfounded, before realization set in.

They were crying. They had always been crying.

Susie dropped her axe which quickly disappeared into the darkness below as she took another step forward, “Noelle?” she called to the figure, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment.

“I, uh, that wasn’t me yelling at you, I uh… So... ice magic, huh?” Susie tried to calm things down after her blunder.

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, idiot, of course she knows magic here, we didn’t exactly knock now did we, of course this happens.’ Her mind raced.

“Susie?” Noelle asked, voice threatening to crack. She fumbled with the blankets and pulled her head out. Her face was drained of color, and her eyes looked tired, even still they widened in surprise when she managed to see her guest.

“You… You shouldn’t see me like this, after all that’s happened… Why are you here?” She was shaking. Something about the question and seeing her like this hurt Susie, it didn’t feel right.

“I’m here for you?” Susie spoke, unable to think as she walked closer and placed a hand on the bedpost. “Why wouldn’t I be? You need help, so uh, here I am. Right?”

‘Is that weird, I made it weird.’

“I mean, unless you don’t… I don’t really see anyone trying to come after you now that I mention it...” Susie was beginning to reconsider barging in.

Noelle furrowed her brow and stared harshly into the pillow beside Susie, deep in thought. “I think I see...” she said as she rubbed the tenderness of her eyes one by one.

The cold seemed to ease as Noelle relaxed ever so slightly out of her stressed headspace; As the room warmed, so did her complexion.

Susie fidgeted with the bedpost waiting on the pondering deer. “And? So are you coming along or?” she couldn’t help but sound concerned at Noelle’s tone.

Noelle didn’t seem to hear her question, instead closing her eyes and nodding hard as if to convince herself of the validity of her own thoughts. Susie raised an eyebrow in confusion as the silence pushed on a moment more.

Noelle opened her eyes with a new look of self-assurance as she confidently locked eyes with Susie.

She smiled, blushing with all the red her body could manage. Susie was mildly taken aback by this change.

“Uh… is something on my face?” Susie asked, a touch embarrassed all of a sudden.

And then, all at once, Noelle grabbed Susie’s hand off the bedpost, pursed her lips, and pulled her as hard as she could towards her.

Noelle clenched her eyes shut in excitement while Susie’s own went hide as she toppled over the side of the bed...

And directly into a painful headbutt as Susie flailed at the surprise attack.

Susie yelped in surprise, frantically rubbing at her nose and blinking away the sting.

“What the hell was that!” Susie yelled, baring her claws as she shouted all while kicking herself back up and out of the bed. Her eyes were watering from the impact which prompted her returning to rubbing her snout.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just, I thought it wouldn’t, I thought I would-” Noelle was flustered beyond reason and struggling to collect herself, all while a red mark began to become clear on her forehead.

Susie noticed and quickly pulled her hands from her still sore nose and into her pockets to hide how much that hurt, “It’s fine… just what were you trying to do.” She couldn’t help but stare, “That’s gonna leave a mark you know?”

Noelle stiffened up when she realized she was being stared at and slowly reached a hand up to her forehead before reeling back at the immediate soreness of it, “Ow.” she winced. “That’s not supposed to hurt…”

“How would headbutting someone not hurt?” Susie asked, squinting at her.

“I mean, this is all a dream, it’s not supposed to hurt!” Noelle explained like it was the most obvious thing to her.

“I mean it’s the only way you’d come to rescue me, it’s the only thing that explains this whole weird world… it’s the only thing that explains away…” Noelle frantically explained before cutting herself off, she turned towards the window as she struggled to finish what she sought to say.

Susie looked out the window alongside her. Something seemed wrong. Really wrong. And the fear in her eyes before she turned away stuck in Susie’s mind.

‘I… what do I say?... Maybe.’ Susie begged to understand.

“So… you realized it was a dream and thought you would attack me?” Susie interrupted the newfound silence, still struggling to grasp the fear she’d just caught a glimpse of.

Noelle blushed, “Well, no, I mean, usually when I dream of you it’d go… differently.” her voice became barely a whisper towards the end.

‘She liked that distraction, maybe it’s best she thinks it’s a dre- WAIT WHAT’ Susie blunk again and again as the cogs turned through every doubt she had built up inside. She nervously cleared her throat.

“You… tried to KISS me?!” she shouted in exasperation as she replayed the attempt over and over in her head.

Noelle tossed the blanket back over her head, “SHUT UP. THIS DREAM JUST ISN’T GOING RIGHT IS ALL.”

“You have to tell me, do you usually kiss me? Do you dream of me often? What’s it like?” Susie excitedly asked for details and quickly felt embarrassed as she heard what she was saying.

“No I don’t usually kiss you, are you kidding! But I thought, maybe, I’d try something special this time, to make up for all of this.” Noelle managed from under the blanket.

‘What the hell happened here...’ Susie worried with a sigh. Grabbing the edge of the blanket and softly pulling it off of her, she asked, “So, do you really think the real Susie wouldn’t come for you?”

Noelle gave a pitiful laugh, “You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t. I’m invisible to her. And how do I change that? I’m too scared to try.”

Susie gave a knowing look, “Ah. I see. She, I mean, I scare you.”

Noelle jolted up, “No! I mean, yes, but you’re a good kind of scary. I... like that about you.”

Susie rubbed the back of her head with a mix of disappointment and relief, “I... think I’m flattered?”

“Heh! If only the real Susie felt that way…” Noelle sadly chimed in.

She let out a sigh, and climbed out of bed. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

Susie cocked her head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is all a dream.” She took a deep breath, “That means none of this happened, that’s good. That’s good.” Everything felt a little colder all of a sudden. “But I wanted to make it better. To make something special happen. Something I’d like to remember when I wake up, something to help forget the rest and…” Noelle rubbed her forehead, “That didn’t work.”

She idly kicked her legs off the side of the bed, swaying them forward and back as she stared into the seemingly endless darkness of the floor below, “I think I just tried to push things too fast, even if just in my head... it wasn’t going to work out.”

Susie looked away, “I mean, it’s still your dream. Why not try again?”

Noelle let out a soft giggle before admitting, “Honestly? I’m petrified!” she said rather happily, “I couldn’t possibly!”

“Strange thing to be happy about.” Susie muttered, her disappointment peeking through.

“I mean I want to, but it’s just… it feels nice to be scared of something good for a change.” She more quietly explained.

Susie scratched at her cheek in thought.

“I just… wish this wasn’t so much of a nightmare. That I didn’t leave with so much regret and…so hurt.” Another cold breeze. Susie eyed the window as the pane frosted over.

“I wish more of this dream was like this… good. And with you.” She admitted, a warmth to her sincerity. Susie closed her eyes in thought.

“Noelle?” she offered, causing Noelle to perk up out of curiosity. “Would you tell me what happened tonight if I asked?”

Noelle immediately turned away, Susie following suit, sighing as she idly paced along with her thoughts. “I see.” Susie said, an understanding behind her words as she thought to herself for a moment.

“You’re just a dream.” Noelle said quietly.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to hurt. It doesn’t mean I couldn’t care.” Susie said just as quietly, a bit hurt.

Quiet. Tense, stiff, quiet.

“Maybe.” Noelle whispered. “But…”

“But not now.” Susie finished, prompting Noelle to nod in agreement.

“Maybe.. Maybe I’ll show up in another dream. If that would be better.” Susie continued.

Again, she nodded.

It fell quiet again, but it felt less tense now, if only just.

Susie took a breath. “I’ll make sure you wake up soon.” she said as confidently as she could manage. “I'll take down the Queen and get you out of this dream. You just stay here and rest, okay?” Susie placed her hand on the door and awaited a response.

Noelle locked eyes with her and tried to offer a sincere smile, but the both of them could see straight through it.

Susie took a step closer, and unable to break eye contact, so did Noelle. Once more, and again, until there were no steps to be taken. Susie silently embraced the smaller deer, and held her as tightly as she could manage. She tried to think of something to say, but all that came was the need to show she cared. That it would be okay.

Noelle stiffened at her touch at first, momentarily unsure if this was real or not.

After a moment of accepting Susie’s warmth, she decided that she didn’t care if this was real at the moment.

She murmured quietly into Susie’s arm, “Thank you.” before burying her face into Susie’s chest and squeezing her back as tightly as her shaken body could.

Susie began to idly stroke Noelle’s hair as question after question bombarded her mind. All of them left unanswered as she couldn’t focus on any of them with someone this important in her grasp.

‘Can’t this be real?’ ‘Will she even remember this?’ ‘She likes me?’ ‘Me…?’ ‘She seems so hurt.’ ‘What hurt her?’ ‘I will hurt them.’ ‘It’s going to be okay.’ ‘I’ll make it okay.’ ‘I want to… if there’s anything I can do.’

Before the moment could allow her a moment to think on any of these, she had just one concern playing loudly in her mind.

Noelle began to cry. Buried into her, with shaky breaths, she was crying. Just like when Susie first arrived.

Susie opened her mouth but no words came, again and again, nothing escaped. Uncertain of what to do and glaring into the dark, she did all that was left. She hugged with all her might and let her own tears fall where they may.

They stood like that, as two tearful, caring souls allowing themselves to feel.

Until the tears simply ran out.

Noelle hiccuped into her, causing Susie to give her a light squeeze, and things fell much more quiet.

As the moment hung on its edge Susie took to softly tracing lines along Noelle’s back. Jagged rows, small circles, occasionally a heart which she hoped Noelle didn’t mention.

Her friends were waiting. So was the Queen, the fountain, and a whole world, all waiting on this moment to draw to an end. And Susie decided they could all wait as long as it took.

“Noelle?” Susie whispered as she pushed through her now cracked voice. She ran her hand softly down her back and listened as intently as she could but there was no response beyond her quiet breathing.

She let out a hum as she traced her back once more and got her response as the smaller girl’s arm slowly slid off and to the side.

She had fallen asleep; The day had worn her down and letting it all out had drained the last of her strength. She was out of it, no longer standing at all as she was being held aloft by Susie alone.

Something inside Susie felt at peace knowing this, as she picked the sleeping deer up in her arms and began carrying her to the bed.

Gently, she laid her down and carefully laid the crumpled blanket from the floor over top of her.

Susie looked at her face and saw Noelle the tiredest she’d ever seen her. But she also saw a small, unmistakable smile that told her she’d done well.

“It was just a dream.” she whispered, half hurt that it had to be. “But it mattered to me.” she said with a nod before turning to the door.

She placed a hand on the door, took one last look at the sleeping figure behind her, then took a deep breath to confront her friends.

Remembering herself, she quickly reached up and rubbed her face frantically to hide any sign of what happened, and with all the false vigor she could manage she swung open the door.

“Alright let’s go!”

[hanniiesuckle17]

Reaction to S/o Comforting Them

They Get Hate and Their S/o Comforts them.

A/n: Not requested and I really did not expect this to be so long but I just really wanted to go with this idea especially since its a serious topic

Bangchan:

The takeout bags were starting to become heavy in your hands. They were quite light at the bottom of the apartment building’s stairs but now almost ten steps away from your door on the fifth floor, they felt like ten-ton cement bricks. Thankfully you had remembered not to lock your door since you were going far and your boyfriend, Chan, was still home. “Chris! Chris, I’m back! I got you spicy chicken!” You called into your apartment. 

When you left Chan was doing a Vlive, but he should have ended by now. There was no answer. The two of you had converted the guest room into an office for Chan, but when you opened the door he was nowhere to be found. “Chris?” Nothing. He wasn’t in the living room or in the kitchen. Maybe he went to change? So, you ventured into your shared bedroom. He was nowhere to be seen. 

The door to your bedroom patio was open, however. Walking out, you saw Chan sitting on the loveseat you had outside. He was staring at his hands, his hair blowing in the breeze. “Baby, it’s cold. Why don’t you come in? I’ve got food from-” It was then you noticed the look on his face.

“Chan, love, what’s wrong?”

Exhausted, Chan ran a hand over his tired face and through his curly hair. “Nothing. I’m just- I’m in my own head. I saw this comment on Vlive and...I’m fine. Just tired.” You shook your head and sat next to him. “No. It’s not fine. You are obviously not okay.” Chris shrugged before looking up at the sky. “It’s really not a big deal.” He tried to shrug it off and give me a small smile, but we both knew it was fake. “Okay...You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, love.” Instead, you wrapped and arm around his shoulder pulling him down so his head rested in your lap. He didn’t fight your motion, relaxing as your fingers raked through his hair.

You knew Chan would tell you eventually. You just closed your eyes and focused on taking care of Chan and making him feel better. An hour had maybe passed and Chan still lay in your lap. 

“It was just one comment. It was so stupid that it got to me,” Chan said breaking the silence. Chan looked like he was about to cry. He held back the tears and instead reached for your other hand that was resting on his chest. “Go kill yourself and your team members. Your shitty music isn’t worth anything anyway.” Your movements froze.

Looking down you saw Chan fully focused on your fingers. You had dealt with hate. You were very familiar with it ever since you had begun dating Chan almost a year and a half ago. You knew he had anti-fans. It was no secret that out of all the members, Chan got some of the most and worst hate. But, this was cruel on a different level.

“Chan, I don’t know what to say...” He sighed, playing with your fingers. “If you did know what to say I’d be surprised.” You settled for playing with his hair once more, hoping that it would help. “This is more than enough. You just being here. You always seem to show up when I need you the most, Y/n.” He sighed and closed his eyes, further relaxing in your company. “Well, I love you, Chan. I’m always going to show up.”

Minho:

Your boyfriend was feeling really upset lately. The boys were prepping for a huge stage and Minho was going to do a solo performance as a transition. He had been spending all his time in the practice room rehearsing. You knew JYP was putting a lot of pressure on him and Minho was also stressed because BTS was confirmed to attend the award show. He didn’t want to fail in front of his old sunbaenims. 

Jisung gave you a hug as you walked down the hall. He had called you earlier and asked you to come to bring Minho some food. Apparently, he hadn’t eaten anything all day. As usual, Minho was blasting music in the practice room. He was alone and dancing in the middle of the room. Patiently you waited for him to finish before setting down the food and approaching him.

“Hey, baby! I brought you dinner.” Minho gave you a half-assed smile. “Thanks.” He was dripping in sweat so you walked over to his bag and grabbed the towel he kept in there. “Why don’t you take a break? Have something to eat.” He shook his head and wiped his face and neck. “I can’t- I’ve got to keep working.” 

Your boyfriend walked back over to the stereo turning on the music. This wasn’t like him. There was a fire in his eyes. A dangerous drive. He looked angry. You watched as Minho danced. Every once in awhile, he would mess up and almost scream in frustration. “Minho, stop. This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m fine!” Minho turned off the music and continued working on a specific section. 

Anger and frustration radiated off of him. You couldn’t help but stand frozen half in worry and half in fear. Heavy sounds of his footsteps bounced around the room. A screech was heard as his shoe slid across the wood floor. “ARGHHH!” Minho screamed, collapsing against the mirror. His forehead rested against the cool glass, his fists on either side of his head. “Why can’t I get it!?” The sound of shattering glass filled the wrong making you double back. 

When you looked you saw dark blood dripping off of Minho’s hand and splattering the cracked mirror. 

Slowly, you approached him, reaching out a comforting hand. Silence filled the room except for the sound of his shallow breaths. He flinched away from your touch at first but didn’t push you away when your hand rested on his shoulder. “I can’t make another mistake.” He said, his brows furrowing. “Minho, who said you were making mistakes?” 

No matter what you did, Minho wouldn’t look at you. “I know you told me not to look at them...It’s just hard not to. You don’t know when one of those is going to be mixed in with a good comment and-” You could tell he was starting to get angry again so you took his hand gently and pulled him into you. Like it was his second nature Minho’s arms wrapped around you. “Are you mad at me?” 

His question broke your heart. He sighed when he felt your head shake. “No, Never.” “I didn’t mean to scare you earlier.”  You could practically feel the frustration and tension leaving his body as you rubbed his back. “It’s not your fault.” After awhile Minho pulled away from rubbed his tired face. “Oh god. The mirror.” One of the dance mirrors was severely cracked from when Minho punched it. “I’m gonna have to pay for it. Chan’s gonna be pissed.” 

“Hey! Hey! Look at me,” You turned your boyfriend back around to face you. 

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll cover the cost of the mirror. You just need to come home with me, have some dinner and relax. Sound good?” An airy chuckle led this chest and he nodded. It was nice to see his smile again. He smiled even more when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before the two of you gathered your things and left the practice room. 

Changbin:

Four straight hours. Four straight hours of studying. Convinced you deserved a break you checked your phone and scrolled through Instagram. Then you noticed you had received a notification about thirty minutes ago that Stray Kids were live. Opening Vlive the video came into focus. It looked like your boyfriend and the rest of 3RACHA were live answering questions. Your eyes immediately went to your boyfriend. 

Changbin was wearing your favorite black beanie on him and a loose sweatshirt. One second he was smiling at something Han said and the next he was frowning at his phone. He took off his beanie and ran a hand through his blonde hair. Changbin was oddly quiet for the rest of the live stream. At one point he even turned his phone over and pushed it away. 

Something was not right. Changbin did not look okay. He avoided eye contact with the boys and kept his answers short. He had that look on his face. The same look when he found you still awake studying for an exam at three a.m. Changbin hated seeing you struggle. It hurt him seeing you push yourself.

Not being able to take it you opened the live stream on your laptop and called him. Normally hearing his special ringtone for you would make you smile, but he looked at his phone like it was a weapon aimed at him. The call went to voicemail. Jisung and Chan both looked at him when he ignored the call. “Yah! You know who that is! Pick up!” Jisung said, half laughing through his words. The comments began to ask who it was and why their ringtone was a special song. 

“Changbin only has one special ringtone set. It’s for the person who he sees the most.” Chan said laughing. You called once more. “Come on, pick up.” You muttered under your breath. Sighing, Changbin picked up the phone. You watched as he put on a strained fake smile for you, knowing you would be able to hear it in his voice. 

“Hey, sweetie! What’s up?” 

“Seo Changbin don’t you pull this bullshit with me.” 

You watched as his eyes went wide, clearly not expecting your answer. “What do you mean?” He said pulling that fake smile again. Jisung and Chan poked and laughed with each other while Changbin spoke to you. “Binnie, I know you are putting on a fake smile pretending that you are okay when you are actually not so cut the shit.” Had you not been worried about your boyfriend you would have found it funny to watch his eyes grow even wider and look around the conference room they were in like you were hiding somewhere. “How did you know?” Changbin asked bewildered.

“I’m watching the live, babe.” “Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck and motioned for the other boys to keep talking. You watched as Changbin walked off screen still on the phone. “Binnie, what’s wrong?” He sighed over the phone. “Nothing. I just saw this comment. It’s fine.” You would have given anything to be able to hug him right at that moment. “No. Fine is not acceptable. Changbin whatever that comment said is wrong.” He scoffed over the phone.

“You don’t even know what it said, babe.” “Okay, what did it say?” Changbin let out another sigh. “Something about me stealing everything BTS are writing and that our music wasn’t good. They said that there was no use in me writing for Stray Kids if all I was going to write was crap.” It was your turn to scoff. “Well. Both you and I know that is far from the truth. Seo Lewis Changbin you are one of the most talented producers and men that I have ever known and will ever know.” 

There was silence on the other side of the line for a moment. “I love you, Y/n.” “Yeah, I know. I love you too. Why don’t we go get boba after I finish up studying?” He quickly agreed and ended the call. It made you smile to see Changbin reappear on screen, a huge grin from ear to ear.

Hyunjin:

You were running late. Very late. This was one of the biggest concerts in your boyfriend’s career and you were late. Usually, you would have met him at the fan meet before the concert, but your meeting ran over an hour longer than it was supposed to. Rushing home you changed and threw on some nicer makeup before driving slightly over the speed limit to reach the stadium on time.

You arrived just on time and moved to your seat in the second row. A few STAYs recognized you and were very kind and polite. They asked about how your studies were going and if Hyunjin was taking care of himself. You really loved how much they cared about him. Soon the show started and you were screaming the boys’ names with the other fans. The concert was going well. Except for the fact that Hyunjin was really out of it. 

He seemed to be completely avoiding the right side of the stage and when he glanced over in that direction he got this look on his face. You could tell something was wrong. After Hyunjin almost tripped and fell during District 9, you knew something was up. “Hey, where are you going?” A fan beside you asked while they were finishing up a song. “I’m just going to go to the restroom.” You said giving her a smile. She nodded and promised to keep your seat. 

You moved to the right side of the stadium and showed your ID to the staff who led you down a hall to the backstage. Their manager greeted you with a smile and quickly gave you a pass so no one would bother you. “Is everything okay?” He asked over the music. “Hyunjin seemed a little off to me. Is he alright?” You questioned as he leaned over to hear you. He nodded. “He seemed a little upset after the fansign, but he told me it was nothing.” You trusted their manager. He always took good care of the boys. However, you knew Hyunjin. He would say anything for the staff to let him perform. 

“They have a ten minute break before the next set. Hyunjin has fifteen since the dance unit is second.” “Thank you.” Not a moment later the boys started exiting the stage, stylists and staff rushed to them giving them water and wiping them down. Quickly they ushered the boys to the dressing room and you followed. 

“Y/n!” Minho cheered when he saw you. Several of the boys were shirtless, changing for the show, but they didn’t really care if you saw, neither did you. Minho gave you a hug and then passed you onto Felix and Jisung who in turn wanted hugs as well. “Go get dressed guys. You are doing great!” Your eyes found your boyfriend slipping off the first shirt and picking up one a stylist handed to him. “Hyunjin,” He turned at the sound of your voice. 

He dropped the shirt on the couch and ran to hug you. “It is so good to see you.” He whispered into your neck. Hyunjin still had cold sweat dripping down his neck. “Hyunjin, darling, what’s wrong?” You said cupping his face. You could see it in his gorgeous dark eyes. There was no light behind them today. Hyunjin sighed, shaking his head. “Why don’t you change, and then we will talk?” Slowly he nodded taking the shirt from his stylist again. They touched up his makeup and then he sat down on the couch, his head in his heads. 

“Jinnie, tell me what’s wrong.” He shrugged as you took his hands in your yours. “Did something happen at the fansign? A flash of hurt passed through his eyes as he looked at you. “Something did happen. Didn’t it?” He nodded glancing over at the other boys who were busy getting water and prepping for the next number. “There was a girl. She was one of the last ones. She gave me a signed petition of people wanting to kick me out of Stray Kids.” A hand went to your mouth in shock. You couldn’t imagine how Hyunjin must be feeling right now.

“She said that the boys only need me for the promotion visuals. She called me a useless pretty face.” The look on Hyunjin’s face made you want to cry. “She’s right there. On the front row in the right section.” Hyunjin buried his face in his hands. Wrapping your fingers around his wrists you pulled his hands away from his face. Slow tears were running down it. “Hyunjin, you are not just a pretty face. You are so much more than that. I love you because you are kind, and funny, and you dance with me in the living room, and you clean the dished when I don’t want to, and you have the biggest heart.” He chuckled and wiped away his tears.

“Really?” “Really.” He felt reassured when you kissed him. “I was talking to some of the girls around me before the concert and do you know what they said?” He shook his head and looked me in the eyes, curious. “They said: ‘Is Hyunjin resting well?’ ‘Please make sure he eats.’ ‘How is Hyunjin oppa? Please take care of our Hyunjin.’“ Hyunjin let out a small laugh, his eyes turning into cute crescent moons. “Real STAY love you. They want you to be well. So do the boys and I.” You placed kisses all across his knuckles, making him smile again. 

“You don’t have to go back out if you don’t want to. The boys wouldn’t mind. You come first.” “No, no. It’s okay. I want to go back out.” Hyunjin said taking your hands in his. “I want to go for STAY.” You nodded, pushing a stray hair away from his face. “I’ll be backstage if you need me.” After kissing your cheek the two of you got up and went backstage to wait for Hyunjin’s next number. He felt better knowing you were only a few feet away if he needed you.

Jisung:

Your phone read almost four in the morning. You looked up at the building you knew your boyfriend was still in, JYP Entertainment. It wasn’t unusual for him to come home late or even stay at the dorm every once in a while, but he would always call you or at the very least send you a text. This was different. Jisung hadn’t been home for almost a week. Worried for his health Chan had sent you a message a couple hours ago saying Ji hadn’t come home the past two nights. 

You heard someone playing the piano in one of the boy’s studios as you made your way down the hall. They were playing the same chord over and over again, adding different endings to it, occasionally hitting a sour note. It didn’t surprise you when the sound was coming from Han’s studio. Carefully you opened the door and looked inside. 

Jisung sat the piano, notebooks, and sheet music strewn across almost every surface. He looked terrible. His brown hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled. Jisung slammed his fist down, making you jump at the sound of the keys. Defeated he held his head in his hands, soft cries shaking his shoulders. The sight broke your heart. You knew more than half of what the public saw was a confident front that Jisung put up to keep up with the other guys.

He jumped when your hand came to his shoulder. Quickly he wiped his eyes and sat up straight again, looking back at the keyboard and lyrics. “Y/n! What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?” It was clear he didn’t want you to see him at the moment. “Ji, baby, it’s four in the morning,” He paused before checking his watch.

“You should be asleep, you have a class at eight.” His words tugged at your heartstrings. Even through all this pain he was pushing down, he still kept up with your life and made sure you were taking care of yourself. 

“Jisung,” Letting out a shaky breath he glanced at you, but soon resorted to shuffling the papers around, trying to clean up his mess. “Jisung, it’s Saturday.” He stopped and you could see the gears turning in his head. His gorgeous brown eyes looked dull and had heavy bags underneath them. “When was the last time you slept?” You asked cupping his jaw, trying to get the man to look at you. 

“I can’t sleep. Not when I keep thinking about everything. I need to finish this anyway. I have a deadline.” You knelt down beside his chair looking up at him. “Thinking about what?” Jisung looked away, the soundproofing on the walls becoming very interesting to him. “Ji, you can tell me anything. I’m with you now, okay? It’s okay.” He broke, letting the tears stream down his cheeks. “Oh, Jisung.” Immediately, you wrapped him up in your arms. He held onto you like you were the only thing tying him onto this earth, this life. 

“Hyung told me not to read them anymore. But it’s just so hard not to.” You knew exactly what he was talking about. It made you cry as well to think that those terrible comments and anti-fans were affecting your boyfriend this much that he felt he couldn’t talk about it. “They just keep getting in my head. They were even at the fansign yesterday.” You threaded your fingers through his soft hair as he cried into your neck. At some point, Ji had pulled you up to sit on his lap so he could hold you even tighter. “This girl-she wouldn’t even let me touch her album. She told me that I didn’t deserve to be with the boys and that I was just dragging them down. She told me to-” 

He just cried harder held you tighter. “She’s wrong, Jisung.” You tried to think of a way to comfort the man you loved in your arms as you ran your fingers through his hair, in hopes of calming him down. “The boys love you. Real STAY love you so much. I love you more than you could ever imagine. Look at me,” Slowly he pulled away from my neck, eyes red and breath short from crying. 

Jisung stared into my eyes waiting as I looked at him. “You are not alone. I’m going to be here. With you. Always. You understand?” Another slow tear ran down his cheek but he gave me a small smile and nodded. “Please come home, Jisung.” He nodded once again and wiped his eyes before giving me a soft kiss, letting me feel his gratitude and love.

Felix:

You rolled over in bed, expecting for Felix’s warm arms to wrap around you sleepily. Cracking open your eyes, you saw his side of the bed was empty. “Felix,” You called out, thinking maybe he got up to go to the bathroom or something. The clock on his nightstand blared almost two in the morning in bright red numbers.

Throwing on a big shirt from your closet, your bare feet padded across the cold wooden floor of your apartment. After knocking on the bathroom door you entered to see an empty room. “Lix?” You knew he came home last night. You distinctly remember going to bed early with him next to you. Maybe he went to get a glass of water?

Opening your bedroom door you saw a light in the kitchen was on. Your boyfriend was sitting in front of his laptop at the counter his head in his hands. Even from a distance, you could see that Felix was looking at Twitter.  Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around Felix’s waist making him jump.

“Y/n, what are you doing up? It’s late; go back to bed.”

You could just barely make out the tiny sniffles he was trying to hide from you as he stroked your arm, still around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong?” You asked quietly, kissing his shoulder. “Nothing! I’m fine! Don’t worry, y/n. Go back to bed.” You sighed. Felix almost never called you by name. Especially when you were alone. Glancing over you read a couple of the tweets on screen.

omg Felix is so obviously gay it makes me want to puke

I’d honestly rather eat shit than have Felix get more lines this comeback

Lee Felix more like Lee FAILURE. Can’t you guys see he is bringing the rest of the boys down? #fuckoff  

JYP should have gotten rid of Felix in the survival show. His gay untalented ass didn’t deserve to come back

Turning you finally saw Felix’s face. He had slow silent tears running down his cheeks. He wiped them away when he saw you looking. “Felix-” “I’m fine!” He said quickly closing the laptop. All you could do was wipe away the still flowing tears. “You are obviously not.” Felix just dropped his head onto your shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” Dejectedly he shook his head.

“Felix, do I need to call Chan?” 

“No! No! I’m fine. Really. Don’t wake up hyung.”

His eyes went wide and he gripped your arm, keeping you in front of him. “Okay, I won’t.” Your hand went up to his cheek again, wiping away some drying tears. “By the way everything they said was false and you know it.” Your boyfriend nodded but still didn’t look convinced. He let out a sigh when you kissed him gently. Felix’s tears had finally come to a stop when you pulled away, but he still looked beaten down.

“Stay right here,” Lix did as you asked, rubbing his tired eyes. Exhausted from schedules that day and from crying, your boyfriend watched as you made tea for the both of you. Felix trudged his way behind you as you walked back to your shared bedroom. The two of you sipped on tea and whispered to each other about random thoughts that came to mind. Soon the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms. Felix fell asleep first listening to you whisper how much you loved him. You felt comforted in the fact that he was alright now and could finally sleep peacefully, his heart and mind at rest.

Seungmin:

Your last class had ended maybe an hour ago. Now you couldn’t wait to go and see your boyfriend. The two of you had made plans earlier in the week to hang out at the dorms tonight. The bus ride over was uneventful, you listened to Stray Kids’ new song and marveled in Seungmin’s vocals. How did you get so lucky? Not wanting to get caught, you went through the back entrance of the boys’ dorm and climbed the stairs.

The sound of your knuckles on the wooden door echoed in the empty hall. The door opened to reveal Hyunjin. “Y/n?” The shock on his face surprised you. Seungmin always let the boys know when you were coming over. Not that they minded. “Hi, Hyunjin! Seungmin and I were going to hang out tonight.” He nodded and glanced behind him into the apartment. There was a hesitant look on Hyunjin’s handsome face. “Just warning you. He had a bad day. Like really bad.” 

You nodded, completely understanding the meaning behind his words. “I thought he stopped reading those comments.” Hyunjin shook his head, letting me into the boys’ apartment. “We were going through fan mail earlier today. I think he got a couple of bad ones.” A couple of the boys greeted you while you listened to Hyunjin and set your bag down near the counter. “Where’s Han?”

“We were giving him some space. He’s in our room.” The boy pointed down the hall to their shared room. As you approached you heard soft music playing behind the door. Softly you knocked. “Chan hyung, go away.” Again you knocked hearing a sigh and footsteps coming towards the door. “Chan I’m fine! You don’t have to-”

Seungmin’s eyes widened as he saw you standing before him. “Y/n...I totally forgot you were coming I’m so sorry.” Without saying a word you gently moved past him and into the room. You heard the soft click of Seungmin closing the door. “How was class?” “Don’t pretend, Min. Not with me.” His smile fell and his shoulders drooped. Soft music filled the heavy air between you. “Who told you?” Seungmin sighed, collapsing onto his bed. 

“Hyunjin.” Seungmin stared up at the ceiling, his arm behind his head. Taking off your coat, you crawled over to lay next to him. “You want to talk about it?” Seungmin was silent for a moment, instead choosing to wrap an arm around you. “I guess,” You nodded and traced patterns across his chest. “There were just a whole bunch of letters today. They were all saying how untalented I am and how I could never replace Woojin.” You could tell he was angry just by his voice.

“I know they’re just anti-fans and I shouldn’t listen to what they say, but it just hit really hard. We only lost Woojin a month ago and that was already hard enough. Han and I have been struggling to keep up with the new lines and parts. When they said that I was replacing him...it just...”

“It was the last straw?” Seungmin sighed nodding his head. “Yeah. I’m not trying to replace Woojin. I just want to keep making music with the boys. We just work so hard- I work so hard to make good music for STAY and to hear people say things like that really hurts.” 

Seungmin let out another sigh, but this one felt like he was letting go of all the tension and anger he felt. “Thank you for listening. I should have just talked to someone in the first place.” He reached over and kissed the top of your head, making you smile. “You were angry. It’s understandable. I’m always here to listen if you need me.” The two of you laid in the small bed, listening to the soft music still playing in the room, enjoying the newfound calm.

Jeongin:

“Y/n, can you come down to JYPE?” Changbin said over the phone. Thankfully you were seated in the very back of your university class so you could sneakily answer. “Changbin, I’m in class right now.” You heard him sigh over the phone. “Look it ends in like thirty minutes. I can be ther-”

“No, Y/n. You don’t understand. We need you here now.” There was something about the tone of Changbin’s voice. “Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Everyone’s head turned as you slammed open the classroom door and ran out. “MS. L/N!” The professor called. You sprinted out to your car and hoped you had enough gas to get you across town to JYP Entertainment. You cursed the amount of traffic as your car came to a standstill in the middle of Seoul. You were about five minutes away from the boys’ building. 

Ding

Picking up your phone you saw a message from Changbin. He had sent you a link to a video. Traffic wasn’t about to start moving anytime soon so you opened it and put your phone in the stand on your dashboard. The link sent you to a press conference with the boys about their upcoming comeback. It looked like it was an open conference so fans were there too. However, instead of talking about the comeback reporters kept on asking Jeongin about our relationship. Some fans were also screaming at him and the boys.

A car horn brought you out of your trance. You hadn’t realized that you were crying while watching the video. Wiping your tears you drove the rest of the way to the building. Jeongin was doing his best to answer the questions politely while still giving us the privacy we wanted. You could tell he was obviously bothered and upset. Chan had tried directing the focus on him but it didn’t work. 

When you arrived Changbin and Chan ushered you inside, pushing past several reporters and photographers. “Where is he?” Chan motioned you towards a room near the dance studio. When you opened the door you were greeted with a dark room. “Innie?” Soft cries could be heard from the other side of the room. Seeing your silhouette before you closed the door, Jeongin rushed over to you and wrapped you in a tight hug. “Are you okay?” He asked cupping your face.

“Jeongin what’s wrong?” He shook his head, looking into my eyes. “It’s just...so hard.” You couldn’t see well in the dark, but from the sound of his voice, you knew he was crying. “Jeongin, talk to me, darling.” He held both your hands in his. “I hate that you are getting all this hate because of me. People are saying all this stuff about us.” You knew he was hiding the fact that ever since your relationship went public he was getting way more hate than usual.

“Hey, Yang Jeongin,” He looked up at you with sad eyes. You could see he had been holding this in for a long time. “You don’t have to be strong for the both of us. I’m here to do this with you because I love you.” Leaning up you placed a kiss on his forehead. “We can get through this together.” 

“Thank you for being here for me, Y/n.” “Always, Innie.”

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

[roggenmuhme]

Exam Season

The Diamonds x Reader Summary: As the semester draws to an end, finals are approaching and you struggle to balance studying and your relationship with the Diamonds. Wordcount: 4.3k More than open to criticism; this is my first time writing in years and I’m ESL, so I’ll take everything I can get.Feel free to chat me up on discord and on here … I'm happy to exchange sketches and wips, I got plenty! imbutahumblefarmer#5583 "You guys, I'm fine!"

It was your third time saying this exact same sentence while White Diamond strained herself to take up the whole screen in front of you. 

Coupled with an awkward laugh, everyone would have figured out that you were lying by now. Everyone except for the Diamonds, of course.

They were a strange trio; completely unrecognizable from when you first had met them. In the place of the terrifying space dictators who had tried to squish you like a bug at Garnet's wedding were now three socially inept women with too much free time and nothing to do. 

And they were endearing in their own way. Just like now.

An exasperated sigh could be heard through the connection, the screen whisked away by large, yellow hands. (White's stunned gasp was pointedly ignored, however.)

Yellow Diamond's face appeared in full on your little gemtech tablet, a curious Blue peeking over her shoulder. Her features were rough as always, one could be quick to assume that she was bored, but you knew better. 

By the way her eyes narrowed, she didn't buy your shtick at all. A cool, calculated gaze met yours and you prepared yourself for the scolding that was about to come.

"... If you say so", her answer sounded oddly clipped, even for her. 

Letting out a deep breath, you tried your best to smile at her and you could feel how fake it looked. Yellow just blinked at you, a hand leisurely supporting her cheek.

"Haha, yeah", you said in another attempt to calm them. They barely understood what university was, and if they caught wind of you being miserable, they would come and flatten your faculty. Or something. You didn’t want to deal with that. “It’s all over in two weeks, then I can come over… if I pass, that is”, you mumbled the last part under your breath, mentally freaking out a little. Only two weeks left … it felt like forever and nothing at all at the same time. “Two weeks?! That’s so long!”, White’s whine sounded off-screen, prompting Yellow and Blue to give her curt look, Yellow’s face contorting for a split second. “Are you serious?”, you had to suppress the laugh that bubbled in your throat. Whatever they did, they always put you in a better mood, intentionally or not. “You guys are thousands of years old, this should be like a minute for you, theoretically.” Yellow blinked at you again, her full attention shifting back to you. “We are aware. But every moment without you is torture.” This time, you laughed for real. Despite Yellow’s deadpan, she could be the cheesiest one of them at any given time. “Guys…!”

“Oh, but it’s true!”, Blue’s soft brogue interrupted your fussing. Yellow turned the device to face her, giving you two a moment. “You know we love you”, she smiled at you. You could feel yourself melting at the sight. “I miss you, I really do. I’ll get Steven to warp me to you immediately after the last exam, I promise.” It was the most you could do and it would already complicate things. But you couldn’t stand to see them like this. This seemed to be enough for Blue at least. She gazed at you in silence for a moment and nodded. With a flurry of colors, your eyes were burned by White’s pouting face again. “If you must, but not a second longer!” You sighed, grinning at her. “Of course.” A gaze at your wrist watch nearly made you recoil in horror. It was way too late already and you still had to do some revisions on unit 23! “Anyways, I really have to sleep now. Y’know, my organic needs and all...” You were a bad liar, but it did the trick on White. She looked like a moping child after their toy had been taken away. She made the most disappointed, dramatic noise while pushing the device from her to give you a look at the others. Blue gave you a little wave, still smiling sweetly. “Okay guys, I’ll call you the day after tomorrow, alright?” They nodded in unison, biding their goodbyes. Before you could switch your screen off, Yellow opened her mouth for one last message. “If anyone is giving you trouble, tell us.” With a hasty bow of your head and one last wave, you pressed the off button, your room now considerably darker again.

Your wrist watch beeped. Back to work.

Nervously tapping your pencil on an old worksheet, you tried to figure out a way how to solve the problem - you didn’t understand it back when you discussed it in class and you still didn’t understand it now. Your wrist watch gave a short beep, your signal to call the Diamonds in fifteen minutes. The break was more than welcome, maybe thinking about something else would give you a fresh eye. Tugging at your hair with a hairbrush, you hummed absentmindedly. You hadn’t really done anything today or yesterday that was worth reporting, but that never stopped the diamond’s from calling you. They simply did the talking themselves. Checking your appearance one last time in the mirror, you gave yourself a satisfied nod. Your eye bags had seen better days, but there was nothing you could do about it right now. Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, stark white light coming from your window. Turning your head comically slow to the source, you had a gut feeling who this could be. One of White Diamond’s eyes peaked excitedly into your studio apartment. It widened when you gave a hesitant wave. Your gut was right. “Hello, starlight!”, her voice was loud, too loud for 10 pm on a weekday. If the sudden arrival of three giant aliens didn’t get you in trouble, this would. When you didn’t answer, she brought a nail to the glass, impatiently tapping it. You were lucky it didn’t shatter on impact. “Darling”, she sang. “Come out, we came all the way to see you!” You had to shake yourself out of the trance you were in - you knew how clingy and protective they were, but this was new. Making your way to your window, you could already hear the noise rising in your neighbor’s apartment. Great. You just hoped they wouldn’t terminate your lease for this. When you finally opened the window, White’s massive hand plucked from the ground and plopped you into her other one. Indeed, all three stood in your parking lot, now hunched over to get a better look at you. “Hi guys”, you squealed, straining your neck to meet their eyes. Three faces beamed back at you, their total lack of situational awareness really showing. “Instead of calling you, we decided to visit you instead! A nice surprise, isn’t it?”, proclaimed White proudly as if she had just solved all of mankind’s problems single handedly.  Blue and Yellow nodded enthusiastically next to her. You probably should be mad, but how could you? “Look, I really appreciate this”, you sighed. “But we really have to go somewhere else - people are already waking up. And it might get me in trouble.” That got you a collective ‘oh’ out of them. “Where is the ship anyway?”

You didn’t know how they managed it, but they had found an empty space large enough for the leg-less space giant. Apparently, they had walked the rest of the way and without damaging anything at that. You felt a little proud. The mental image still made you chuckle. “Okay guys, why did you come in person?”, you crossed your arms, while they sat around you in White’s head. “I thought we had a deal - I call you every 48 hours, you stay on Homeworld.” Blue and White evaded your eyes at your scolding tone, but Yellow held your gaze steadily. 

"It was fairly obvious that you were not well at all despite your insistence otherwise",  she offered her hand for you to climb on, and you did. "You have to take care of yourself, you are very fragile."

Now it was your turn to avoid her stare, feeling guilty. She was right, but you just didn't have the time. There was so much material to go through, so much to memorize. What could sleeping two hours less a night do? It was only for a short period of time, anyway.

And even if you struggled with anxiety and exhaustion, you didn't want to burden them. It was bad enough that you were gone for the semester, telling them how you really felt would be overkill. 

But now the jig was up. You should have known that Yellow was an expert when it came to observation and you had probably hurt them even more with your lie.

"I'm so sorry", it was like someone had opened the valve and now you were pathetically blubbering. "I just… didn't want to worry you, is all."

Seeing your distress, Blue immediately pulled closer to you, a tentative finger rubbing the crown of your head. 

"Little one, you know you can tell us everything. We care for you and want to help you", she cooed at you, shooting you a smile.

"You organics are so weak to stress, apply a little pressure and - poof - you just break", declared White, a finger up in the air to call attention to her great wisdom.

The stroking on your head stopped abruptly, replaced by shaking. 

"Don't… say that", Blue voice was trembling, clearly on the verge of crying. As if on cue, you and Yellow scrambled to console her.

 "Don't worry, I'll be fine. It's just a little difficult right now", you turned to her, smiling.

"She is an excellent specimen and very durable, Blue", Yellow's tone was a bit more pragmatic, but honest. It was also a nice compliment, coming from her.

"Yes, this isn't the first time I'm dealing with exams", you reached out to pat her finger. "It's going to be okay, even if I don't pass."

"... really?", Blue looked at you with big, questioning eyes. "Please don't lie, you know I couldn't stand to see you - "

A shuddering breath followed. "Stars, I can't even say it."

You were scooped up by her hands and pressed against her soft cheek. 

They were all experts in dramatics, but Blue was especially sensitive when it came to your mortality. The first time you had explained your lifespan and the many ways one could die to her in detail, you weren't allowed to leave her for a week. She had known how short human lives were, but this! Unacceptable.

She even made you eat nothing but mush during those seven days, too afraid of this 'choking'. 

In the end, you talked her out of it. But it was a big factor when it came to your living situation. They wanted to spend every moment with you, savoring your presence. 

You tried to reciprocate the cuddling by embracing her as best as you could. She let out a soft sigh, holding you a little closer. After a minute of silent embracing, she reluctantly put you back in Yellow’s hand. “We’re always there for you, no matter what”, she told you in a gentle tone, the other two nodding in agreement. “If you need me to talk to one of these organics, darling, don’t hesitate to tell me!”, exclaimed White, a smile stretching her cheeks in the most unnatural way. A mental image of her hunched over one of your professors in their office made you a little… uneasy. “Thank you, but I can do that myself”, you laughed nervously. White didn’t look too satisfied with your answer, but seemed to accept it.

“And if it becomes too much, you’re always welcome to move in with us”, added Blue, making you flush. It wasn’t the first time you got that offer, but it was just too sweet. “M-maybe in a couple of years”, you stammered, which earned you a grumble from them. You coughed, feeling a little awkward to change the topic so suddenly. “Ehm, thank you guys - I don’t want to be rude, but I have to get back to studying pretty soon.” “But it’s already dark outside! Isn’t that when humans sleep - oh”, Blue said, suddenly struck by an epiphany. “Oh no, we kept you from sleeping!” You shook your head vehemently. “No, no, we don’t go to sleep the second it gets dark, guys. I think I might have explained this to you before. But I still have some stuff to do.” Of course it was White who interrupted the stunned silence first. “You don’t have a little more time for us? We came all the way...” Yellow joined in, her voice a little louder than anticipated. “Can’t you study here? With us?” “Guys, you can’t just park your ship here - without asking anyone - and keep it in this place for days! I’m gonna get in trouble”, you panicked a little at the thought. The only spot where this gigantic humanoid vessel could be placed was Beach City. Nobody would call the police or worse, the government, over this. “So you have to leave,” this hurt more to say than you’d like to admit. “Or you have to go to Steven, if you want to stay.” All three of them pulled incredibly sad faces, and Blue was close to crying again. You would be lying if it didn’t pull at your heart-strings. “We’re here to make sure you take care of yourself, spark. You’re packing your things and then we’ll stay at Steven’s house and help you study”, Yellow nearly shouted at you. It wasn’t malicious, just her expressing her genuine concern. A relic of times now gone. You thought about it for a second - you could take your books with you, as well as your laptop and notes. Classes were over for now, you only had to attend the exams in two weeks. Technically, you could do it. And with the look they were giving you and all their efforts to make you feel better, you agreed. How could you say no to your giant space ladies? Especially when they were bending over backwards to comfort you. Steven was even more surprised to see the four of you two hours later. You had texted him on the way, but it had been left unread. The Diamonds didn’t really care for announcing their visits, but even this was a bit sudden. After White had explained everything to him, he simply slinked back to bed, planning on discussing the logistics of the situation in the morning. You were allowed to sleep on the couch, but not without the protest of the Diamonds. You loved falling asleep with them around, though regarding the circumstances they would probably dote on you until you were wide awake. They also tended to fight over who got to be the one you would sleep on, and you didn’t have the nerves for that right now. When you left the beach house the next morning, you were greeted with the sight of the three of them practically camping in front of the deck. They had missed you that much, it seemed. 

“Good morning, guys!”

You were greeted by various nicknames and excited faces, White the first one to scoop you up. Behind your back, Steven groaned in his cup. “So, what have you planned, darling?”, her voice was chipper as ever, her bright eyes burning your retinas. Maybe Steven was right and it was just a little too early, but no take-backs now. “About that...”, you scratched your cheek in slight discomfort. “I have to study the whole day.” White’s fell immediately, clearly stunned. “I told you yesterday - I have things to do, but you can keep me company. Maybe even help me?” She blinked at you once, the gears in her head clearly turning. Then she gave you an eye-watering smile. “Whatever this studying is, we’ll help you!” You groaned internally. How many times had you explained it to her already?

 It went better than you initially expected. The weather outside was nice and warm, the beach calm enough to simply set up a little picnic blanket with your books and notes. (You left your laptop inside, not wanting to get sand into it.) Surrounded by three (surprisingly silent) giant figures watching your every move, you got to work. It was a little awkward at first, but you fell  into a routine soon enough. Each of them had her own unique way of helping you; Blue would simply nod and smile when you tried to regurgitate the material to her, White would go on a tangent whenever she recognized something you were talking about, earning her a warning glare from Yellow. Yellow herself would try to quiz you on whatever notes you had pulled up on your gemtech tablet (they were surprisingly resistant to sand). It quickly became one of the most successful days so far, you were impressed. Being with them kept you grounded, they were like a calming aura to keep your anxiety at bay. And they were extremely helpful. It was almost comical, you had to admit. At the end of the day, you were finally able to pack up your books and enjoy the evening with them. It felt good to know that you had managed to get so much done today. You were strangely at ease, their presence strengthening you. You did worry however, that this routine might get boring for them - it wasn’t like the nice things you did usually, it wasn’t playful, entertaining or relaxing. You didn’t want to force them into staying with you, you didn’t want to bore them. With a sigh you shouldered your tote bag, still too caught up in your head. Your sudden shift in mood didn’t go unnoticed. “Little one, are you alright?”, Blue crouched down next to you, her soft eyes glowing in the dusk, her form crowding you in shade. 

You looked up to her, a little unsure on how to word your feelings.

"It's just", you opened and closed the fist around your bag straps. "Did you enjoy today? Was it dull? I-I still have two weeks to go and it's gonna stay the same, pretty much."

She sighed, her tense shoulders slacking. 

"We enjoy your company", she gave you a smile. "We haven't spent time with each other in such a long time, starlight. If we were able to accompany every second of your life, we would."

She offered you a hand and you happily jumped on it, a little flustered at her words. They were so serious, so heartfelt. Sometimes you did forget that they were older than civilization on earth, that they would outlive you by eons. 

"Thank you, Blue", you peered up at her, a relieved smile appearing on your face. "Your company helps me so much, you know? It would mean the world to me if you stayed with me until the exam."

Luckily for you, Steven had given you permission to stay on the beach - you were also allowed to sleep on the couch, but you knew you'd have to stay with the Diamonds. It was the least you could do to pay them back, even if it was just this little thing. 

And this was exactly how you spent the last days leading up to your finals, either sprawled on the picnic blanket on the beach, sitting on the deck with your laptop or, when the weather didn't allow it, lounging on the couch or on the ship. You were surrounded by Blue, Yellow and White at all times, each of them trying her best to help you with the material. They kept you on track, making sure you didn't procrastinate too much (even if that meant less cuddles) and nipped any self-doubts you had in the bud. 

Even as the date got dangerously close, they still patiently calmed you down. When your panic got too bad, one of them made sure to keep you close, either putting you into her lap or patting your head. At night, they talked to you until you fell asleep and woke you up better than your little phone alarm could ever do. You knew that even if you didn't pass, it wouldn't be the end of the world. 

Still, you were an anxious mess when the first exam rolled around, your mind a thousand miles away as you got ready to go to uni and to give it your all. Not even the Diamonds were able to calm you down, but you knew you just had to get it done and over with. The week was a blur, days blending into each other, your head always buried in a book. You were lucky that they had stayed behind with Steven, only calling you at the end of the day. While the fussing had been helpful beforehand, now it would only hinder you. 

Before you could really settle into a routine, finals were over, leaving you with a weird emptiness and a restless feeling. Now all you had to do was wait for the results, a special kind of torture in itself. 

The Diamonds noticed how absent you were, but no amount of well-meaning words could shake your nervousness. You didn't mean to cause them any further stress, but it was tough to keep your mind off things.

When the results were finally posted online, your heart threatened to burst out of your chest, your mouth dry and your hands shaking. You knew there was nothing you could do now, but the thought of weeks of studying going to waste was nearly unbearable. A dozen scenarios ran through your head, not one overly positive. 

Once the browser had pulled up your account, the answer was a simple click away. You had to steel yourself by gripping the edge of the table - the Diamonds were waiting outside impatiently, you knew they would lose it if they saw you like this. 

With one last breath, you closed your eyes and did what had to be done.

The page was on full display in a matter of milliseconds, your eyes frantically searching for the right column, moving erratically up and down. 

Finally you found what you were looking for: you had passed. In a moment of disbelief, you reread the page again, but it was there in tiny black letters.

It was like someone had knocked all the air out of you with a single hit, your heart wasn't done with beating fast, but at least some of the nervousness slowly dissipated.

The realization took a while to settle in as you deflated in your seat like beach ball slowly losing air. You stared at the wall, a smile cautiously spreading on your face as if you were afraid that too much joy would nullify your results. But after a solid minute, not even your stress-addled mind fog could hold you back from jumping out of your seat in joy.

Busting through the door, you cheered loudly while you ran across the deck, immediately focusing all attention on you. Steven had distracted the Diamonds to give you some time and space, but at the sound of your happy shouting they instantly turned around, faces unsure for a second.

You raced through the sand, arms in the air, relieved laughter pouring out of your mouth like a steady stream. It was probably not the most flattering or mature look, but you couldn't care less. 

"I passed!", with one last cry you came to a grinding halt in front of them, only to jump up into the air. "I did it! Ha!"

 Blue's face was the first to soften into a tender smile, her expression clearly full of pride, followed by White who looked at you in excitement. 

Yellow only blinked at you for a moment before she erupted in delighted laughter and scooped you up without a word, her eyes beaming with glee. It was rare for her to lose her composure like this, but that made it all the more sweet. You shot back the biggest grin you could manage, positively vibrating in her palm.

"We're so proud of you, little one", Blue's voice came out as a gentle sigh, stress falling off her back you didn't even know she had felt. It made you stop for a moment, finally grasping how your situation had affected them and how much they cared for you. 

You teared up in an instant, the sudden change of feelings giving you whiplash, your heart suddenly bubbling with love and gratefulness. It was unbelievable how lucky you were, you realized.

At the sight of your sniffling face, Yellow brought you closer to her, her eyes full of warmth. It was as if she was shielding you from the others for just a moment of privacy.

"No reason to cry, spark", her tone was as soft as the look she gave you and did exactly the opposite: you couldn't help but let some tears slip down your cheeks, babbling about how happy you were to have passed and to be with them, while she smiled at you in slight amusement.

The moment was interrupted by an awkward Steven coughing not-so-subtly into his fist. 

"Okay, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it?", his voice reached a clumsy high, he clearly felt like he was disturbing something. 

The Diamonds didn't really notice however, they just happily sent him off and turned their attention back to you. You were showered in affection and soft words, they were genuinely happy for you and even more ecstatic to have you all for themselves for a couple of weeks. As you listened to White ramble on and on about what she had planned for you during this break, you felt the pressure lift itself from you. All this stress had been worth it and now you were rewarded with all the love you could ever ask for. You knew that this was where you belonged.

[commonwealthoccurences]

Orange Colored Sky (OMTWY Part Two)

Note: Overused passing-out trope, anyone? Apologies. I hope everyone’s enjoying Fallout 4 February so far, any feedback would be appreciated!

TW: Death, blood, and violence. Injured child (burns). Be careful!

Prompt: Orange Colored Sky by Nat “King” Cole

Day: 4

Word Count: 2202

Smoke had filled the air, leaving ash scattered throughout the once pristine halls of the Institute. Amongst the gunfire and shouts of alarm, the crackling flames and the falling debris, Sole could hear the winding glass pathways creaking under the stress of the heat. Sweat was beading on their forehead, creating a thin layer between them and their armor, and their breath was coming in short, borderline choking gasps as smoke filled the air.

Something had gone wrong in the communication with the Railroad and Minutemen, and one of the charges had been set off early before someone could catch the error. Half of the science wing had been turned to dust, a large crater replacing what had once been towering and expansive, a pillar of achievement. Sole had barely dodged the flying glass and metal as they attempted to usher synths out of the area, and X6-88 had vanished into the atrium right before the blast went off.

With a moment's breath to pause and send all of their wishes of safety to X6, they began picking themself up off the cracking ground, looking around to make sure the people they were leading were okay. Charred pieces of the plastic foliage scattered through the air, floating down like smoking bits of confetti. What a celebration, Sole thought to themself sarcastically as they readied their weapon to fire at a charging gen-one synth. Their bullets hit the mark, despite the shaking in their hands, and they thanked the training Deacon had put them through.

They slipped the group of synths through the chaos with little hesitation. Fortunately, they’d had the foresight to steal a worker’s uniform off one of the dead Institute members, so unless someone looked at them closely like the last synth did, they blended right in. For all the others knew, they were an Institute employee fleeing the ruckus with a group of loyal synths. They tugged their helmet lower on their head to hide their face better as they kept running.

Despite the rumbling of the imminent collapse, the maintenance halls behind the inner walls muffled the sound of everything going downhill. Soundproofing, maybe? God knows what the Institute did that for, not that it mattered for long. The back halls were mostly deserted; they knew that at least one of the entrances had caved in, and they were so hard to get to that most had probably already died getting anywhere near them.

They paused by the doorway to the room that housed the teleporter and waved the group in, counting in their head to make sure no one had been left behind. The last synth paused and gripped their upper arms, desperate and wheezing. “Please…”

Sole reached out to hoist them upwards as they began falling to their knees, probably from a lack of oxygen. “What’s wrong?” They asked, tone urgent.

“Abigail. She’s a new synth, nine years old. She has no idea what’s happening. They left her in the atrium, I don’t know where she’s gone!”

Sole heaved out a breath and paused to steady themself, eyes closed momentarily. Even if they were synths, they were family, and they had to do right by them. With a firm nod, they ushered the synth towards the portal and steeled themself to go rushing back into the chaos. Somewhere in the back of their mind they heard X6 screaming at them to get out of there, that they couldn’t do any more if they were dead. Good thing he wasn’t there to stop him. After a moment to embrace the silence, they took off again like hell itself was right behind them. Perhaps it was.

The way back out of the maintenance halls was painfully easy, a deceptive route back into the shitshow that awaited them. Their boots echoed as they pounded against the barely-tainted floors; they left footprints of ash and blood in their wake as they charged through the empty area. With their build up of speed, it was difficult to skid to a stop when they were faced with piles of rubble where the exit should’ve been.

That was the only way out or in. Sole cursed, a loud “Shit!” that echoed off the walls, nearly drowned out by the sounds of gunfire they could hear on the other side of the newly-formed wall. They stepped forward and began examining the situation, prying their fingers under pieces of rock and support beams to see if they could find any leverage. Precious minutes ticked by in the back of their mind as they jammed their fingers in different cracks and crevices with no luck. After a few more seconds than they appreciated were lost, they finally felt something come loose.

Internally throwing as much energy as they could at praying the pieces of wall wouldn’t come tumbling down on them, they pulled as hard as they could, grunting from the strain of the weight. At first, nothing happened. Then everything came crashing down in front of them, leaving a cloud of dust and debris to join the mixture of smoke and ash. A harsh cough burned their lungs, and they leaned over, hands on their knees as they tried to eject the unwelcome particles with hacking gasps.

Their lungs, their throat, their nose, and their muscles all burned from the exertion of the fight; hell, the world was burning, or so it seemed from the flames that had now spread so heavily that it was difficult to see any farther than a few feet in front of them. They wished they’d been more grateful for clean-ish air when they had it and kept moving.

By some miracle the stairs to the higher levels of the structure weren’t completely blocked, just provided an oh-so-needed extra challenge of leaving obstacles in their path. They leapt over chunks of walls and climbed over steel beams that had fallen into the walkway, ducked under large supports, and skidded in pools of blood, shining red under the knocked-loose and now dangling fluorescent lights. 

Despite the fact that they initially believed the smoke couldn’t get any worse, the higher they climbed, the thicker and more persistent it became. As always, the wasteland came through to prove them wrong. Cursing yet again, they reached the landing and pressed their elbow over their nose, struggling to even cough. Their eyes stung and watered.

Down the hall something glinted near the floor, shining like a beacon; it wasn’t blood, for once. Maybe it was who they were looking for, or maybe it was someone else who needed help. With that thought in mind, they hurried down the hall and kneeled down to get a better look. It was an arm, with a watch latched firmly around the person’s wrist. A chunk of the wall had come crumbling down on top of them, pinning them to the ground and likely killing them instantly. Maybe it was selfish and rude, but they were grateful it belonged to an adult, wished them peace, and got to their feet to keep looking.

When they got up and redirected their attention to eye-level they lifted their gun before they even registered what they were doing. Just down the hall was a shadow, outlined by smoke and barely visible amongst the shifting light. Too short to be an enemy; they rushed forward. “Sweetheart! Hey, I’m here-” They were interrupted by a coughing fit at the sting of smoke flooding their lungs yet again. “Here to help!”

The child stumbled towards them, pressing their hands to their face. “Abigail?” They called out again.

“That’s me!” She responded, her voice a shrill, terrified cry, broken by sobs.. “Help! Please!”

Sole scooped Abigail up before the child could draw another choking breath and swivelled on their heels, headed back down the stairs with a harsh gasp of air. The smoke was definitely getting worse; they were working on a ticking clock and the smoke was just reinforcing that for Sole. They made it down the stairs in record time and were rushing across the atrium floor, dodging what tumbled down from the walls and the shattering glass, when something slammed into the back of their head and they went down in an instant, Abigail leaving their grasp with a cry. Shortly after, their vision went black.

There were no words needed for X6-88 to part the crowd; the emotion on his face and the knowledge of those around that he was there for Sole was more than enough. When he reached the cleared area, they were propped up against a part of the building, an oxygen mask pressed against their face by Curie’s small hand. She was smoothing the hair away from their face, as reliable as always when it came to taking care of them when he couldn’t. 

The sting in his knees didn’t register when he fell to kneel in front of them. They were covered in soot and sweat, the only clean space on their forehead being where the helmet had sat. He couldn’t stand to see them in the Institute uniform; something tainted on someone who had saved him. His hands were shaking as he struggled to move forward, or maybe the world was just a little unsteady.

Carefully, as if one wrong move may break them, he forced himself into action. Curie smiled at him gently and moved her arms to support Sole’s back, sitting them up a little further. He moved between them and the cold building and leaned them back against his chest. X6-88 took a deep breath to steady his trembling and reached up to take the mask from Curie’s hands. He held it against their face as still as he could and shifted his head to press a kiss against their temple. “They should be awake soon, I think. Their levels are returning to normal.” Curie spoke softly, not wanting to disturb any peace. 

X6 didn’t look up at her, and instead nodded, his eyes fixated on the rising and falling of Sole’s chest, terrified that if he looked away for a moment it’d stop. Superstition and chance was never his thing until he met Sole. He ran a hand up their arm and hesitated.

Being together while working with the Institute wasn’t exactly something that came easy. Saying “I love you” was never an option. If someone overheard or checked security tapes for some reason and found out, X6 was as good as dead, and Sole’s cover was blown. No, instead, they were clever enough to tap his arm or shoulder when they would jokingly throw an arm around him, pretending as if they were playing along with the way the scientists would joke about how he was so serious, despite the fact that it was something they had programmed into him.

And then the bird began figuring a way out of his cage, lost his stone-cold edge, and Sole began to say I love you in their own little way. Morse code. Pressed into his skin at all angles, tapped against his back in the middle of a combat situation, dotted over his shoulders and spine in the middle of a meeting with scientists. Over and over again, they said it without opening their mouth. He’d never gotten the courage to say it back until that moment, and he was terrified it was too late, shaking and full of regret.

Their breath stuttered for a moment and he held his own despite the burn that lingered from the smoke that had worked its way into his lungs. They shifted, twisting their head to the side as if trying to hide from the light of the sun overhead, and pressed themself further into his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief at a sign of them becoming conscious. Once they paused their movement, he paused, too. Then, tapped against the skin of their arm from where Curie had cut off their sleeve to place a monitor, I love you, pressed into them for the first time by his fingerprints.

Another pause. The world seemed fond of stopping time as of late when it was all too inconvenient. Then, against the middle of his thigh where their hand had fallen limp, I love you. He gasped out another breath and squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears that streaked down his face, no doubt leaving a path through the ash. He pressed another kiss against their temple, and then another against their cheek. 

They shifted in his arms and tipped their head back, blinking blearily as they looked up at him. It seemed difficult, the way Sole struggled to lift their arm and brushed an unsteady hand against his cheekbone, gaze filled with wonder, as if he were the only thing they wanted to look at for the rest of their days. 

Somewhere he found the strength to pull them even closer against him, practically cradling them as he rested their head against his shoulder and kissed their cheekbone again. This earned him a dazed smile. “It’s over.” He murmured, lips brushing against their skin as he spoke. “We’re free.” Their smile grew and he choked out a relieved sob. They were free, the sky lit up orange from the fiery remains of their cage.

[honouraryweasley12]

Remembrance

At Shell Cottage, Ron and Hermione grieve a fallen hero. In doing so, they must face some truths long-hidden and make a decision about their future.

Also on FF.net

The sunlight streaming through the window provided ample light, but the sprawl of words in front of her were hazy, Hermione's own thoughts preventing her from focusing. It was rare for her to have such difficulty, especially when she was reading for sheer enjoyment. Her recovery had taken a lot out of her, and she'd been pouring her remaining energy into the planning of their next task.

A lull in the strategizing was a welcome change, yet she felt unsettled. Like she should be doing something more meaningful with the precious respite they had been granted. Time seemed to slow at the cottage, her first real breather since August.

The book lay still in her lap as she stared at the window, her eyes misty as she recalled the blur of empty oppressive days and narrow escapes, living in fear and paranoia.

So much had happened, the most recent as terrible as anything she could recall physically, and certainly the worst thing she'd ever personally experienced—the wiping of her parents' memories an extremely close second.

The torture she had suffered was not something easily forgotten, being so close to her own demise shook her to her very core. She found tears would come unbidden, as they were presently, at the most random times. Her hands had started trembling, and any loud noise startled her. Through it all though, she had found her source of comfort and healing.

Ron.

She smiled and wiped the wet trails running down her cheeks. The pretense between them had been shattered. That night had been a wake-up call that anything could happen, and it spurred them both, especially Ron, into action. They were no longer afraid to be openly affectionate and supportive toward one another. She didn't care about being vulnerable in front of him, if it meant an embrace and the soothing warmth of his hand rubbing slow circles on her back.

It was their silver lining.

She sighed, putting aside the book. She wanted to embrace his attentiveness as much she could, until their time ran out. It wouldn't be long now until they had to abandon the safe haven of Shell Cottage and attempt another incredibly dangerous mission.

Their so-called plan was foolish at best, fatal at worst. It was high risk but also high reward, their first real lead on a Horcrux in ages. The chances were grim, but at least there was a sliver of hope. She didn't want to think about that now, especially the myriad of potential outcomes.

The urge to see him seized her. Gingerly, Hermione got out of the bed and shivered, her skin erupting in gooseflesh as a gust of cool sea air blew into the small bedroom. She eyed the jumper he'd thrown over the back of the chair, where he'd been spending time with her at every possible opportunity. Debating for a second, she slipped it on and took a deep breath, his scent a balm for her frazzled nerves.

Slowly making her way down the stairs, she could hear muffled voices from the small living room. Turning to the kitchen, she found Harry, staring hard at the white wood of the quaint table as he turned that lucky shard of glass over and over in his hands, a reminder of what they had suffered through.

She almost couldn't bear to look at her friend in such a state of despair, opting instead to glance around Bill and Fleur's kitchen. Something was missing though—or rather someone. Ron was usually around to keep Harry's spirits up, so it struck her as odd that he was alone.

A sudden panic gripped her, her heart pounding in her chest. Where was he? Had he left? Her hand flew to her chest and she tried to take a calming breath, despite her obvious stress.

No, he wouldn't do that again. He'd promised her, and she believed him. The demons that had been plaguing him months ago had been pushed away with the destruction of that insidious locket, at least for now.

She hated that this was her first reaction, still scarred from his last departure. The bruises on her heart were a sickly yellow, healing but not completely gone.

Stop it, she chastised herself silently. He had more than made up for it since his return. Even now, after she'd been through such a painful ordeal, he was showing such consideration and concern for her. A deft touch that she never would have suspected he possessed. This is how she thanked him? By doubting him, yet again? By dwelling on a mistake she knew would haunt him forever?

She felt disgusted and angry at herself. He'd come through for her  innumerable times, the doubt the last vestiges of lingering hurt. She didn't trust anyone more than she trusted Ron, that much she knew.

Harry, who suddenly looked up from his stupor, raised his brow at the large letter 'R' emblazoned across her torso. He must have noticed her misery and nodded his head towards the door. "He's outside."

"Thank you," she whispered, watching her friend's face as it fell into deep thought once again, the weight on his shoulders crushing him.

Pushing open the door of the cottage, she stepped out, squinting from the bright light. Too many days of darkness had taken its toll, the freedom of simply being outside, in the open, felt foreign. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the harsh rays and began walking toward her source of comfort.

Ron was crouched down, all limbs and fiery red hair, messed from the breeze. He had matured, they all had, far too quickly. His transformation upon his return had shocked her, but her self-erected barricade hadn't allowed her to express it.

She hugged herself as she walked up, the too-long arms of his jumper enveloping her thin frame. It was a poor substitute, having felt his warm embrace more in the past few days than she had over the previous seven years.

He stirred slightly as she approached, stilled by her hand on his shoulder. His weathered plaid shirt was soft under her fingers. She almost laughed at how easily they'd transitioned to something more than they'd ever been. How natural it felt to just give in and touch him without fear of rejection. The years they spent skirting their feelings seemed rather silly now.

She waited, giving him time. She was learning not to rush him. That he would often take a minute to organize his thoughts the way he wanted to, rather than feeling the pressure of replying before he was ready to. It was just the two of them on the bluff, with the churning sea below. Nothing else existed except the memorial in front of them.

The crudely carved stone held a heartbreaking epitaph. Such simple words for someone who had made the ultimate sacrifice.

Ron sniffed, his voice rough. "He was so fucking innocent."

She squeezed his shoulder in agreement, watching from above as he twisted a pair of worn socks in his large hands. After a moment, he gently laid them down at the feet of the plot and placed a stone on them to keep them in place.

He cleared his throat before continuing, his voice wavering. "I wish I could do more, besides giving him Bill's old socks."

Her eyelashes prickled with tears at seeing how deeply Dobby's death was affecting him. Beneath her hand, his body shook for a moment and calmed. After taking a deep breath, his voice broke the silence, quiet but firm.

"I've thought—for a while now—that if the time came, I'd sacrifice myself to help Harry. So many have. Maybe that's all I would be good for. The expendable Weasley. Seemed like I was made just for that purpose. Now..."

She held her tongue, wanting to admonish him for even considering something like that, to extol his virtues, and tell him how truly broken she felt during his time away. How much he meant to her, Harry, and everyone that knew him. Something stopped her; she was curious to hear where he was going with this.

He glanced up at her, his piercing blue eyes filled with an intensity she'd never seen before.

"Now, I... I don't feel as if I could, knowing what I might be leaving behind... what could happen if I dared to think I could make it through this."

That one look told her everything. Everything. His remorse, his fear, his love for her. She was the reason he wouldn't do something foolishly heroic. Even though he already had in rescuing her.

She could see his continuing struggle, his anguish. The waves of tension were palpable, his muscles straining under her fingertips.

"It feels so wrong to want something, to want happiness. Look at Harry—he's given up everything for this war. I bet if he could sacrifice his life to end it, he would in a heartbeat."

Seeing his pain so openly caused her chest to tighten. She wanted to wrap him in a hug and spirit him away. Just the two of them, hidden from the rest of the world.

Her voice was soft in her ears. "It's not selfish to want to live, Ron. To want something more after this war. There's a life beyond this that I dream about, too."

As he watched her, she tried to convey everything he meant to her through her eyes. That the life she imagined included him, could only be with him.

He gave her a slight nod, as if telling her he understood. Slowly, his hand reached up and met hers, their fingers loosely intertwining.

"I'm scared, Hermione. Scared for Harry and my family. Mostly terrified for you, of losing you. Almost did."

He looked away, but Hermione knew what he meant. She shared the same fears, unvoiced but ever present.

Ron sniffled again and let out a quiet cough. "Those were the worst moments of my life, in Malfoy Manor. I felt so bloody helpless. There was nothing I could do."

She didn't mean to say it in the moment, but it slipped out. "We're even now."

His neck twisted up and he stared at her with wide eyes, his expression one of incredulity. "You can't mean..."

She nodded, her eyes wet. "When you left, I was so afraid I'd never see you again. I was utterly heartbroken and there was nothing I could do. Whatever the locket was doing to you was a form of torture, too. It must've been for you to leave. That wasn't the Ron I know."

He protested, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "You can't compare the two! You didn't choose to be tortured, and you still didn't give in. You weren't the stupid git who left!"

In that moment, she knew in her heart she forgave him, that he had come back and ultimately saved her. She was hit by a sudden realization.

"Don't you see? It doesn't matter anymore! Whatever happens, we'll find each other again. My voice brought you back, and you were there to rescue me!"

She felt his posture slump.

"I didn't though, not really. I couldn't even take your place." Ron's voice dropped to a whisper, almost lost in the breeze. "I couldn't stop them from hurting you."

"It was an impossible situation, but you saved me, Ron. Everything you did that night saved me. Your screams for me, the way you fought them, getting me here safely. Harry told me—"

He shook his head. "I got lucky, so fucking lucky. Dobby was the real hero," Ron said, staring back at the carved stone. "Hermione... he died... so... so you could live. He didn't have to help us save you. If it was Harry he was worried about, he would have just brought us here first and then maybe tried to rescue you. But he didn't. Without him... I would have lost you."

His words rung in her ears, a horrific truth. "He died... so you could live."

She hadn't thought of it that way. In her head, she’d equated the loss of Dobby with another loved one protecting Harry. The impact of it hit her, and she stumbled back a step. Ron was on his feet in an instant, pulling her to him as they cried, together. Mourning the loss of such a selfless, compassionate soul. Releasing the pent-up emotions of almost losing one another. Ron held her tightly and she was reminded of Dumbledore's funeral. This time, however, Ron dropped loving kisses into her hair.

She pressed her face to the flannel of his shirt, her tears soaking into the cloth. She held onto him, anchored to the cliff by his strength.

"Dobby was so incredibly courageous. Gods Hermione, I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't saved us all. If he hadn't sacrificed himself."

"He saved me, Ron. But so did you."

He looked down at her, brushing away her tears with large unsure thumbs. Their eyes met, the gaze between them deep.

"Sod it!" He suddenly declared. "You-You are the most important thing in my life, and if you hadn't survived..."

She pressed a finger to his lips, causing them both to shudder. "I did, and I intend to finish this and have the life I want. With you. But..."

"Not until this is over."

She nodded. "Alright, Ron?"

"Yeah," he agreed, but he couldn't resist pulling her against him once again.

They stood there for a moment longer, silently paying their respects to the one who gave them a chance.

"I swear Hermione, I'll never forget what he did. I'll never be able to thank him or repay him."

"All we can do is honour his memory and keep fighting."

Ron nodded his head in agreement. It was all they could do for the future they both so desperately wanted.

As they turned to head back to the cottage, she thought she heard him whisper a final thanks to Dobby.

They were quiet as the walked down the cliffside, their hands clasped. A new determination had overcome them. They were going to fight. They needed to be as brave as the departed elf.

As they reached the cottage, Ron playfully nudged Hermione, the amusement obvious in his voice. "You know, maybe SPEW wasn't such a bad idea."

"It's S.P.E.W!"

[neostriatum]

Restoring Force

[AO3]

In physics, the restoring force is a force which acts to bring a body to its equilibrium position. The restoring force is a function only of position of the mass or particle, and it is always directed back toward the equilibrium position of the system. The restoring force is often referred to in simple harmonic motion. The force which is responsible to restore original size and shape is called restoring force.

- Wikipedia

"See also: Response amplitude operator"

--

He stepped out of the room, aware of the vague humming that indicated Ziggy processing- what, he didn’t know, but his gut told him it was shock. Me, too, Ziggy, he thought, still registering the Fermi suit that clung and shifted to his skin, almost abrasive with how electrified he still felt.

His heart still thudded at a rapid pace, almost concerning if not for the hyperawareness as he cast his eyes over every crevice of his surroundings. The bright white of the Waiting Room shifted to comparative darkness, and it took a moment for the cheery, almost pixelated lights of Ziggy’s interfacing platform to speak through the darkness.

The room was empty, though he guessed not for long, and he curled his fingers inward as if anticipating stiffness from his long time away. The blur of his life was slowly gaining definition, slotting into place subtly with each disoriented step. He exhaled harshly, coming to lean against the operating center.

“Ziggy,” he asked, voice hoarse as it adjusted to being used by him - and not others - again, “Could you- could you tell me the date? Please?”

The humming stopped, a brief stagger, before it resumed at a different pitch that he always associated with the careful cataloguing required of a request. “It is Wednesday, May 5th, 1993, Dr. Beckett.”

He nodded, feeling the edge of one of the command cubes digging into his ribs. Sighing, one of his hands drifted to his temple, pressing a hand there in an attempt to ward off the vertigo and headache that was fluctuating as he recovered from his many years of leaping as his life slotted back into place. “Thank you, Ziggy."

“You’re welcome, Dr. Beckett.”

Something still sounded… off, about Ziggy. He frowned, hand falling away to lever support against the brightly-colored table. “Are you alright?”

A pause. “I am a computer, Dr. Beckett.”

He huffed, amused despite the nagging unease that followed the edges of his thoughts, “I’m aware, Ziggy. But humor me, will you? Are you alright?”

The emphasis of a sigh, modulated through static, “Are you Dr. Beckett?”

He blinked, inhaling as if to answer with a reflexive ‘of course’, but then stopped. It was a fair question, and Ziggy had helped him through many tumultuous events while he was stuck Leaping.

“Where’s Al?”

It wasn’t the question he had intended to ask - in fact, he had intended to rally Ziggy into asking questions of her own, so as to confirm his identity - but his mind was still sluggish, still processing this new data of merging his mind to his own body. Al was always here - Al always reminded him he was Leaping.

If Al wasn’t here - if this wasn’t a Leap - then where was he?

This, apparently, seemed to amuse Ziggy, given the sultry chuckle that answered him. “On the other side of the door, Dr. Beckett.” He answered, “I needed to be sure it was you. … No offense.”

“None taken,” He replied in good humor. His breath still caught in his throat, and he couldn’t ascertain if it was because of nerves, or exhaustion, or both. He squeezed his hand on the console, anyway, in a bid to draw strength from Ziggy’s presence as he stood up on shaky legs.

It took a moment, to regain his breath, and he ignored the intuition that told him Ziggy was closely observing his heartbeat and respiration in order to straighten his posture into some semblance of order.

“Mind unlocking the door, Ziggy?”

“... Of course, Dr. Beckett.”

It seemed not a moment later that Al was careening into the room with all of his usual energy, swearing up a storm at Ziggy and ostensibly followed by the entirety of PQL on his heels.

The entire entourage stopped on a dime as Al caught sight of him, virulent Italian stopped mid-syllable. A breath in, one the same tenuous beat as each other, before Al shuddered, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should make another step forward.

“Are- Wha-” Al marshalled his thoughts, exhaling with a tentative, “... Sam?”

“Yes,” He responded, breathless and suddenly giddy as he cracked a grin, trembling finely with the spurt of adrenaline just seeing his friend incited, “Hi, Al.”

“Oh my god,” Al clapped a hand over his mouth, not moving despite the bustling of Verbena around him to make a beeline straight toward Sam.

“Al-” He found that he didn’t know what to say, how to respond, too busy staring at the north star that had guided him so fervently across time and space. He stood idly as Verbena lifted one of his hands, fingers pressing over his wrist to time his pulse.

“You’re shaking,” She murmured, looking concerned, “Are you alright, Dr. Beckett?”

That seemed to snap Al out of his, and Sam thought wistfully that any injury or slight of his would be enough to rouse the man into action. He glanced at Verbena, the fond smile on his face waxing assuring as he mustered up the energy to place his other hand over hers, “Just fine, Verbena. I’m just tired, is all.”

“I’ll say,” She said, amused. “You’re going to be put on strict bedrest as soon as I get the paperwork through.”

“I know you will,” He said, smile widening at the pace he knew she would take to reassure herself that it was, truly, Sam Beckett in her charge, and not other people wearing his face.

It must have been exhausting, he thought suddenly, feeling a pang of pity for the pain that must have put so many people through. Always seeing the face of Dr. Beckett, but never really the man himself.

Al was still rooted to the spot, ashen and mute, while Tina tried to rouse him, her voice pitched into concern. “Al, honey, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

There was no observable response, nothing clicking from the man beneath the shattered mask, and Sam took an instinctive step forward. Verbena’s grasp loosened with a gentle, trailing touch, her own concern evident by how she hovered at his elbow in case of collapse.

He found he couldn’t dredge up annoyance at the action - or anything else, at all - too concerned was he with bridging the remaining gap between him and Al. Silence enveloped them, everyone watching his progress with a critical, concerned eye.

For all that it seemed an eternity, it must have only been a few moments, and the flutter of joy and relief that he could hear Al’s stuttered breathing and smell the clinging wafts of cigar smoke from his clothes almost made him stumble. Here before him was the man who had never abandoned him, and the strain of it showed in the paleness of his face, feather-thin wrinkles he knew intrinsically were borne of stress - a match to the increased smattering of grey and white in Al’s hair.

“Al,” He said, quietly, intensely. It seemed to breathe life back into the other, for Al grabbed Tina’s arm with the strength of a man recently washed ashore. The physical reflection of his own mood felt like a mirror, casting back at him the same rigor that had chased him from Leap to Leap.

He couldn’t raise his voice above a murmur, “I’m here now, Al. It’s all right.”

“It’s all right,” Al repeated faintly. He blinked, nodded, a faint sheen to his eyes as he gazed up at Sam. “It’s all right.”

Abruptly, he grabbed for Sam, and Sam grabbed back, their forearms entangled in a dying man’s grip. He felt a sob bubble up, mixed in with a disbelieving laugh - none of it felt real, had felt real, not without confirming for himself that Al was there in flesh and blood on the same plane of reality as he was.

“Al,” He repeated, if only for the joy in saying the man’s name without needing to hide it under his breath, or pretending through a phone.

He was wrapped in a hug, and oh, he would never complain about the suffocating fugue of cigar smoke again, not if it meant he could feel the iron grip of his friend’s arms around him, fingers digging into his back as the suit was twisted in Al’s grasp. Never again, he thought he could hear, Never, ever again.

“Sam,” And there was his name, so brokenly said, and yet it slotted right into the gaps that his heart was cracking apart without. “Sam, dear God…”

He grinned, well and truly despite the tears filming over his eyes and rendering everything a staccato bluster of color, gripping back with equal strength. For Al- for Al, he would fight over the lassitude of his body, to give back even a single gram of the solidarity that the man had given to him.

The swung, for a moment, stuck in time as they catalogued each adjustment to this new reality, no mere hologram or warping of space-time making a mockery of their existence to each other. He didn’t know when he had tucked Al’s head into the crook of his shoulder, but the steady wetting of his suit made it seem like the right decision as he stood steadfast for this indescribably loyal friend.

He wouldn’t break apart, not now, not when he had the pieces of the puzzle put together despite the quicksand of physics leaching away the horrors of Leaping. He clung to Al as he clung to those memories, not wanting to leave his friend alone for either.

“Sam,” Al said, a tremble to his voice that said he wasn’t done grieving - and, Sam reflected sorrowfully, would likely not be done for many years yet. “Sam, how…? How are you back?”

He inhaled, turning the things he could say over in his mind. No one had been in the room, which indicated that no retrieval program was being run at the time of his reappearance. This return was of his own doing, and it sent a remembrance of exhaustion through him, threatening to take the both of them tumbling down to the floor.

“I suppose it was just time for me to come back home,” He murmured instead, and in the heart of it, that seemed to ring true. Al didn’t let go, and Sam didn’t make any move to shove him aside, continuing on with a voice that felt the need to deliver his speculations gently, “I think I’m needed here more, now.”

That caused a hiccupped breath to echo out from Al to the others, an unexpected unwinding of tension that must have kept them ticking away for the miles of years he was absent for. It sent a pang through his heart, the fleeting misery that he couldn’t take all of them in his arms to soothe them.

But the pain was quickly absolved with the satisfaction that he, at last, was able to help Al in the way Al had so frequently helped him. It was no encouraging word to dust himself off and work towards his release from that Samaritan purgatory, but it was exactly what he knew Al preferred - the physical reassurance that all was right in the world.

He couldn’t change the past - their lives had their own struggles reflected in the broken glass of innocent dreams - but what was here now was an ample bounty unto its own. Shifting his grip, he brought a hand up to cradle Al’s head, protective of the terrific mind housed within it.

The action broke some reticence on the other man’s end, and he slumped into Sam’s arms, heedless of the respectful quiet the others were granting them. “You can rest, now, Al,” He said, dropping the words close to the man’s ear, “I’m here, I’m not leaving.”

“Don’t do that again,” Al mumbled, taking remorseless advantage of the sanctuary Sam was offering him.

He chuckled, giving in to the temptation to drop a kiss to his friend’s temple, “I think I’ve had my fill of it.”

“You’d better!” Tina interjected, voice overlapping Gooshie’s. They glanced at each other, flustered.

No time was given for either to cede, for Ziggy smoothly interrupted, “Perhaps now Admiral Calavicci will rest properly.”

Verbena hummed in vehement agreement, “I expect the both of you to head straight to bed.”

He felt the slim smile that broke through Al’s demeanour as he laughed, “Yes, ma’am.”

They kept close, a huddle of people surrounding them as they were fairly escorted to the room the project’s doctor led them to. The chamber was small, and the bed singular, but the exhaustion that rattled through Sam’s bones made him gratefully compliant as he led Al into the room.

“Sleep well, Dr. Beckett, Admiral Calavicci.” Ziggy bid the both of them, flicking off lights until only the dim, yellow lamp kept them company. It was signal enough, and a yawn broke through Sam, rippling over to Al.

The man looked nearly sickly in the low light, its muted shade drawing shadows over the divots of his skin. He looked up at Sam, the lingering effects of shock on his face piling age into his features. It wasn’t the youthfulness that Sam had gotten to know over the course of building the array of Quantum Leap machines, and it tugged at his heart as he reached down to grasp Al’s hands.

“How are you, really?” He asked softly, thumbs brushing absently over the warm skin.

Al seemed transfixed by the sight, and Sam believed it, knowing this tangible intersection of selves would take time - so much of it, now! - to settle in. He didn’t remove his hands, despite the tug of weariness that made his eyelids slip lower in anticipation of a proper sleep.

“I am…” Al’s voice was rough, as if unused, and Sam knew that to be a lie with how often his ear was chatted off with meandering gossip and helpful advice alike. He squeezed the other’s hands in encouragement, waiting out the startled inhale at the reminder that he was really here, “I- don’t know.”

The wounded undertones made Al seem small, miniscule in comparison to the impact he’s had in Sam’s life for so long. “That’s alright,” He murmured, “I’ll be here, anyway.”

That rattled another would-be sob into existence, from deep in the pit of Al’s stomach. Sam caught sight of the tears that wavered on the edge now, and how Al dragged his hands away to brush them away. He beat him to it, though, cupping the man’s face as he thumbed away the tears as they spilled over.

Once upon a time - probably at the very beginning of this mess - Sam probably looked up at Al with the same look of lost despondency that was directed up at him now. He wondered if Al felt the same brokenheartedness as he did, the same instinctive reaction to soothe and comfort. His friend was pretty terrific, and he didn’t doubt that urge to right the world resided in the same spot as it did in his own heart.

He pressed his forehead against Al’s, abruptly wishing for the urge to be closer. Mindless shushing noises spilled forth from him, accepting the frantic grasping that let Al know this was real. God only knew that he needed his own grounding in reality, listening to the sobs shaking through both of them as he wiped away tear after tear.

“I- I thought,” Al wept, “Thought you would never come- come back.”

“You prayed for me,” He murmured, remembering his guise as a priest and the grieving Al tried so hard to fix, words tumbling forth as they did now, “I’m here, you’ve got me.”

His legs were straining with fatigue, an unpleasant after-effect of merging with his own body after so long, and Al instinctively caught him despite his own turmoil, breath stopping entirely until Sam was righted. It paralleled their lives from the Leaping so closely that he couldn’t help but press forth, reassuring Al that he was here, that he was safe, that Al didn’t fail him like he so feared to do.

They were an unstable tangle, difficult to tell who was which in this superposition of keeping each other anchored. His lips upon Al’s were like the quantization of states, a resonance of softness that lulled each other into stability, something less frenetic and more an induced calm. He swiped his lips across Al’s, gently, taking care to memorize the electrification of nerve endings that overlapped with the salt of tears.

“I’m here,” He murmured, pressing the words in the space between their lips, hands encapsulating Al’s face and providing the end points of his care as he repeated his affections, his gratitude, into the waiting gasp before him, “I’m here, I’m here.”

They slowed, eventually, an easing of momentum that rang outward from their trembling selves to the breath between them. It was difficult to tell the edges of each kiss, or who pressed back against the other, a sharing of sweetness that was their own celebration of equilibrium unto stillness.

He felt each whisper of inhale, the oxygen that must be circulating through Al’s blood, and felt, for a moment, that it trespassed back to him, a reciprocation of the lifeline they had relied on so intensely. His fingers had curled at the edges of Al’s hair, tickling at the tips where he had slipped across the edges of his jaw to cradle the man’s head to succor comfort unto his mouth.

Reluctantly, he withdrew, gladly staying within the boundaries of Al’s arms as he was held close in an embrace that held all the familiar protectiveness he had once enjoyed only in words. They did not move, nor speak, content to savor the moment.

He felt a smile pool across his face, euphoria bubbling up. Al matched it, quick as he ever was, a laugh tumbling between them. It seemed to settle the last echoes of stress between them, and a yawn cracked open from him, breaking the whispers of yearning that grief had threatened to eclipse.

In its place swept exhaustion, and though Al looked more lively than earlier, the deep bags under his eyes couldn’t be missed. He dragged his fingers from Al’s hair, down the man’s neck and across his shoulders, watching the shiver that reverberated through him, finely tuned and deeply-wrought.

“Let us sleep, Al,” He murmured.

Al nodded, pressing his fingers more firmly from where they were comfortably lodged in the shallow curve of his waist before they left with reluctance. He stayed close by, anyway, thigh touching thigh as Al unlaced and slipped off his shoes.

The sigh that echoed forth from that action was deep, already limned in sleep’s catching thrall, and they settled upon the bed side-by-side, arms thrown over each other and legs entangled as they drifted off.

Today may be done, but tomorrow was another day, and one they needn’t race to catch up to.

--

Author's Notes

In the field of ship design and design of other floating structures, a response amplitude operator (RAO) is an engineering statistic, or set of such statistics, that are used to determine the likely behavior of a ship when operating at sea. Known by the acronym of RAO, response amplitude operators are usually obtained from models of proposed ship designs tested in a model basin, or from running specialized CFD computer programs, often both. RAOs are usually calculated for all ship motions and for all wave headings.

- Wikipedia

Pertinent notes:

Original timeline in the sense of Donna Eleese not marrying Sam, nor Beth Calavicci staying married to Al

Although not canon, I kept to the idea of Sam's mind leaping rather than mind + body out of a sense of technical issues that could arise out of our current understanding of physics (i.e. the compression of matter that would deal with the details of "how would Sam fit into everyone's clothes" and the practical consideration of "how would Sam be able to recall his original positioning in the space-time field for an accurate Leap back home")

Quite a lot of the physics and narration is directly influenced by the theory of quantum entanglement

The date Ziggy tells Sam is the premier airing date of "Mirror Image"

[her0brine]

Here’s the follow up to my Steve headcanon post, it’s everything for Herobrine! (It’s absolutely massive so buckle up :’))

* Steve and Herobrine are the SAME person. No, Steve does not have a case of D.I.D., but it is more of a surreal supernatural state in which when Steve receives any sort of fatal damage to his body, they fully black out and Herobrine seems to ‘take over’ their body.

* As for Herobrine’s appearance when ‘taking over’, it is nearly identical to Steve’s appearance, minus the obvious difference of having solid white eyes, as they have a total lack of a iris or pupil. Also, it seems that the already mesomorphic-like physique Steve has seems to get slightly augmented in terms of suddenly gaining more muscle mass when Herobrine is ‘active’, so they look somewhat even more buff and stereotypically hypermasculine.

* Herobrine’s eyes can glow, as their natural state emits a very faint pure-white glow. If in low-light conditions, the brightness of their eyes seem to get stronger, depending on how dark the surroundings really are. If they become agitated however to a certain degree, their eyes can become legitimately blinding to any living thing that even just glances at them.

* Their body feels stone cold if you were to touch it, as if they’re really just a living human corpse. Their blood doesn’t even seem to flow properly under their veins, and it looks somewhat coagulated if it bleeds out of them if drastically injured.

* Usually when Herobrine ‘wakes up’, it’s right after Steve experiences death, and Herobrine is thrust back into whatever deadly situation that caused Steve to die in the first place. There has been many times where Herobrine woke up to see that they’re currently being eaten alive by zombies or their flesh is fully charred from falling headfirst into a lava pit. Some of the less ‘annoying’ situations that they wake up in are being miles under the ocean with their lungs full of seawater, or waking up in the middle of the woods with their body being riddled with arrows and lying down in a puddle of their own blood and vomit, or waking up to see that they’re at the bottom of a abandoned mine’s pit with severely broken or fully shattered legs.

* Herobrine’s pain tolerance is absolutely ungodly. You can essentially cut any of their limbs off and he won’t even flinch, as the mere sensation of pain to them is literally nonexistent. However, having the inability to feel pain also means they’re eventually unable to feel ANYTHING at all. Even when walking on firm ground, they can’t even feel their own feet being in contact with it. They’re in a eternal state of feeling ‘loose’ from the world, as they don’t feel physically bound to anything. Even when they try touching or holding items, it feels like they’re grasping at thin air.

* Even though they can still receive physical damage to their body, any lost or injured flesh and bone is immediately healed up at a supernatural rate. Not even any sort of potion or golden food item can immediately cure such a variety of severe physical damage unlike Herobrine’s body. They can be blown to actual pieces and can still regenerate in minutes, although with some absolutely disgusting bone and muscle squelching sounds at full speed.

* Along with a body that can regenerate, Herobrine’s body seems to be a elemental conductor. If given the time to focus, they can summon electricity to flow within them, by becoming a literal human lighting rod. Although it does requires them to be actually struck by lightening first. Fire seems to be a easier element for them to summon and manipulate, as using any torch on hand or just walking directly into exposed lava (which does nothing to their body and just flows off harmlessly like water) can ‘charge’ them immediately. As for expelling these elements, they can emit them through their hands and chuck them as blocks or they can become a living EMP by letting it all ‘burst’ out of them. They rarely do this, when they they do, it’s usually only to clear out large waves of mobs who attacked them first.

* They can teleport, just like Endermen, but seems to rarely use it at all. When they do, it’s usually to traverse across large caverns or any sort of natural roadblock that comes across their path. When teleporting, they do not emit a easily visible aura such as the purple flecks that Endermen emit, but they do seem to cause some heat haze phenomenon to appear around their body and surroundings before and after teleporting themselves.

* Herobrine CAN speak, unlike Steve who is born mute. However, when they do speak, anyone can see that their body was never meant to actually talk. Their voice sounds discordant and strained, as if every word they speak is literal agony to say. It just feels scratchy and forced, making them sound like a pained dying Wither whose mouth is full of gravel. Herobrine assumes that their voice is ‘normal’, and is oblivious to how genuinely perturbing it sounds.

* Unlike Steve, who has a defined personality (shy and quiet, but overall a kind person who genuinely wants to help others and secretly craves social interaction), Herobrine has a complete lack of it. They are devoid of even basic personality traits, and is essentially a husk of emotions. Fear, joy, and envy are foreign concepts to them, but it is unfortunately obvious that they can experience and express extreme rage and absolute disgust. Agitating Herobrine is a rare event, but it is a grave mistake for any living being to purposely make them mad or even annoyed.

* In terms of the retaliation these pesky individuals might receive from Herobrine’s hands, they wish they would’ve been killed by falling directly into lava instead. It seems like the cruel, twisted, and genuinely macabre inner thoughts that Steve keeps to himself are fully expressed through Herobrine. Acts that Steve would NEVER do in their entire lifetime towards any sort of mob is instead done by Herobrine, with uncomfortably perfect execution. It’s easy to tell when a mob has been killed by them, as usually they’re deformed beyond recognition or all that remains of them is a blood splattered crater in the ground.

* Not even Herobrine himself knows why they do these acts of EXTREME violence and torture, as they claim that it ‘just feels right’. Even when physically mauling and gutting a mob to death, they’ll always retain the same stoic facial expression they always carries.

* Herobrine is 100% desensitized to gore. After all, there’s been numerous times when they have been mauled, stabbed, missing limbs, puking up blood, and other various states in which their insides are on the outside. It’s gotten to the point where they think it’s totally okay to see somebody else bleeding to death, as Herobrine assumes that they can also recover from their injuries, just like they can.

* When ‘waking up’, Herobrine seems to always have one goal in mind: Go back to bed. After getting out of whatever predicament they woke up in, they immediately makes a beeline towards ‘their house’. Sometimes it takes days or even weeks to walk back, but it’s always a constant thought on their mind. Even if interrupted by Villagers, Pillagers, or mobs, they’ll always dismiss them while continuing to head back home. The only time they’ll actually stop and go off-course is when they’re attacked, and after dealing with whatever interrupted them, they’re back on-course again.

* Food and water are almost unnecessary for them to stay alive, as they can last for weeks without experiencing hunger pains or thirst. Oddly enough however, they can experience fatigue, so as they spend weeks wandering back home, they will occasionally try to force themselves to rest by sleeping on the ground. It usually fails, and this is one of the few things that can actually give THEMSELVES agita, even if they weren’t attacked by a mob. It seems that they literally cannot rest, unless they’re SPECIFICALLY on ‘their’ bed at Steve’s home.

* Simple things in life that Steve enjoys, such as flower fields filled with friendly bees, clear water streams filled with fish, untouched snowy fields, or even seeing any sort of cute wild mob will bring out no reaction from Herobrine. He feels no psychological reaction from any of these relatively positive things, neither a positive nor negative reaction. If he was to even see a panda, he would just stare at it for a few seconds, and walk away, totally disinterested.

* However it seems that the general distaste Steve has towards undead mobs is something Herobrine also shares, as he usually kills on sight any zombie or skeleton he sees, even if it takes him off-course. He is visually disgusted whenever seeing a undead mob, and seems to not ‘toy’ around with them as much unlike other mobs he has killed.

* Even though Herobrine may come off as this unstoppable being with no emotions, ungodly abilities, and extreme strength, there seems to be one ‘weakness’ to him. Alex. He seems to actually experience physical discomfort or even stress when even looking at them, as if all the memories Steve has with Alex has bled over to Herobrine’s consciousness. He just becomes so incredibly meek around them, acting almost Steve-like in how timid he becomes. Just being lightly touched by them causes Herobrine to completely freeze up. However this goes away fully whenever any mob tries to harm Alex, and Herobrine absolutely LOOSES it. Just the mere thought of Alex being injured or being completely gone genuinely SCARES him......

* The first time the two of them met was during one of Herobrine’s long walks ‘back home’, and Alex naturally thought it was just Steve walking back from a day out. As they came closer to speak to him, Alex was immensely horrified to see Herobrine drenched head-to-toe in what seemed to be his own gore, as a arrow was logged through the back of his head, exiting through one of his eyes. Assuming the worst, Alex thought Steve died and came back as a zombie, and soon drew out a sword to mercy-kill them. Herobrine seemed unimpressed by this, and continued to walk his way back to home. Genuinely confused and also still dealing with this sudden wave of fear and grief, Alex once again tried speaking towards what they assume to be a zombified Steve, to only get a bonechilling response. “I.... aAMM...... NOOTT...... STTEEVVEEeee.......” Taken aback from this, Alex attempted to grab Herobrine by his arm, asking feverishly ‘who are you?!’. It seemed however this brief singular act of physical contact by another human being seemed to...... disturb him...... He finally stopped walking to stare at Alex, before speaking again. “Y..you........ aaAAALLEEXxxx?....... w..why..... I... I....... I...... know...... y...yooOoou?.......” Now experiencing what may be confusion for the very first time, the two of them managed to have a conversion, abit more of a one sided conversation as Alex flooded Herobrine with numerous questions about who he is and why he looks so much like Steve. The two of them finally made it to Steve’s house, as Herobrine asked Alex if they can help PULL the arrow out of his head. They obliged, hoping that all of this was just a surreal nightmare. Finally Herobrine threw himself into Steve’s bed, finally getting the sleep he craved. Alex stayed there all night, still in awe and horror of what they just witnessed. As daybreak arose, the being in Steve’s bed finally woke up. Assuming it was still that ‘white eyed doppelgänger mob’, Alex was soon comforted to see Steve’s deep violet eyes staring back at her. Although, what Steve signed next rocked them to their core: [Alex!? Wait, what are you doing here? In my house? Did I let you stay over last night? I really can’t remember, all I know is that I just had a horrible dream with you in it! I remember exploring a cave and some skeletons attacked me, and I accidentally tripped when running away and then I remember a arrow entering my head, and it was a dark haze after that, but you were there as well?! I think we were in the woods, and I remember you were holding my arm and yelling stuff at me, but I don’t know what you said.....]

* Knowing that Herobrine is essentially devoid of feeling or expressing most emotions, Alex tries to bring out the ‘best’ in them by making him do daily activities that Steve enjoys doing, such as taking care of livestock, baking, exploring mines, or crafting items. Unfortunately, Herobrine didn’t really ‘click’ with any of these activities, especially when being around animals. They just look so uninterested and didn’t even flinch when a fox wandered into Steve’s chicken pen and brazenly killed some of the chickens in front of them. Alex was honestly hoping that along with bringing out their potentially suppressed personality and emotions, they were thinking that by doing some things that Steve does, it’ll ‘jog’ Herobrine’s memory that they ARE Steve.

* As time passes on, it becomes more and more apparent that Herobrine is in complete denial that they are some sort of unknown type of supernatural being that is occupying Steve’s corpse and is essentially warping it in unnatural ways. However as Alex keeps bringing it up, it gives them a sense of............ shame. If what they’re saying is absolutely true, then WHY do they exist?............... and... why.... they don’t... want to....... be.... alone.... again............

[project-ohagi]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader 1/4

Buy me a coffee!! <3

[A/N]: Light spoilers for anime-onlys.

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety/Depression, Mentions of Self-Harm and Attempted Suicide.

-----

Parts 2 / 3 / 4

You said 'Forever'. The gentle dripping of tears was being drowned out, not only by your depressive thoughts, but by the music playing full-blast. Was that all just a lie? Did I ever really mean anything to you? Was I ever truly special? Was I just being used?...Did you throw me away?

Songs proclaiming solitude, misery and heartbreak were echoing off the walls, while in desperation, you hoped and prayed that they would be enough to block out your desolate cries. They resonated as the wretched sobs of angels, as you tried urgently to grapple the truth, to understand where…and when, everything collapsed around you. It is often claimed that the gods bequeath the hardest battles to their toughest soldiers, but your fragile soul was shattering under the weight of their expectations. Couldn’t that be any more obvious? Or were you supposed to splinter, further and further, until nothing was left save for a few, worthless pieces? What was anyone to do with them? The man who had swooped up your heart, fancying to toy with it, yet unwittingly becoming invested…the one who always cherished you, even amidst the darkness - the emotional storm…he was finally gone. You wondered if all the special events, birthdays, Valentine's…did he ever hold them dear?...Or were they replaceable, just like you?

You wondered if he had discovered a new adventure, whether he was bedding another, or had been, behind your back…The anguish dulled your usual, bright sparkle, your passion for life…everything. You wished so badly for a second chance. What had you done to warrant such blatant disregard, such ignorance of your very existence? What had you done? If only he would whisper those much-needed words…even if you must strain to hear them…you would launch yourself at any opportunity to remedy this. Whichever of your actions he disagreed with, you could make it right.

You could make it right…together!

There was no-one else - no family, no friends. Without Keigo, you had nothing, and nothing mattered anymore. Both of you harboured issues, pertaining to trust and otherwise, so despite a two-year relationship, you still lived apart. Although, items reminding of him littered nearly every inch of your apartment. He always spoke so earnestly of wanting to relocate you, but life…personal problems…there was forever something blocking you, like…the very fabric of your beings would unravel if you got too close, too…intimate. As the dirges struck your ears, almost managing to muffle completely your incessant cries, you found a couple of his old shirts - ones he had gifted to you, so you wouldn’t be too lonely in his absence. Of course, they weren't anything compared to him and his warm, loving embraces, but they retained his scent…and it was heavenly.

You couldn’t resist, as much as your mind fought to, wrapping yourself once more in his fragrance…his memory. You savoured it, and your dormant self-loathing started to attack, more ferociously than ever before. Why did he leave? Well, wasn’t that obvious? He despised you, even more than you did. It wasn’t difficult for your mind to believe, but your heart…

…Your heart was a different story entirely.

It remained true to him. It stayed loyal, in spite of the agonising pain. It just couldn’t fathom how…why…He had no reason to up and leave, without so much as mentioning it. Every call forwarded straight to voicemail; he never picked up, never contacted you back, never made an effort to reach out. You couldn’t help worrying for his health, for his safety, but you were breaking. He was your whole world, and he just…disappeared. You hadn’t even seen him flying around the city, although you knew he was there. So, he was simply avoiding you. Hawks…the extraordinary, wonderful man, to whom you owed your very life…He had long become your hero - the only hero you required.

He was your saviour, your knight in shining armour…the one who lifted you from the chasm of self-doubt, of…anxiety and depression, in a way. He never failed to shield you from your demons, even at their most potent. But…he didn’t see the manifest torture, the harm you inflicted upon your skin. He couldn’t make the time, nor the energy. You disguised them so, incredibly well…He just couldn’t have noticed. He couldn’t have possibly comprehended the extent of your dark ideations…everything you wished to achieve.

Rather…the endgame. The method to the madness, the reason for all the pain, all the suffering. It was death. Of course it was death. You certainly didn’t expect anything less, but Keigo…would he be horrified, if he eventually returned, hoping to make amends, only to discover a corpse…the lifeless shell of his former lover? Would he feel regret? Loss? Sorrow? Or would he rejoice, that he was no longer shackled to such an expendable person, such a burden on his dreams? He desired to fly freely, unimpeded, right? Well…maybe you would grant his wish. Or maybe the universe would. Either way, he wouldn’t be obliged to love you anymore, to cuddle with you, share his snacks, or lie awake at night, listening intently as you described how horribly the world had treated you.

"I guess this is goodbye…Keigo." You muttered, staring at the piles upon piles of shirts, trying desperately to hold back the floodgates.

If only you had been clued in on his mission to infiltrate the League of Villains…if only he was allowed to send a message. But he wasn't. They refused it. They stressed the dangers, manipulated him at his weakest - when you nestled at the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t risk getting you involved, couldn’t risk…you being tortured, killed, or something worse. But…informing you of his absence, instead of simply leaving…why wouldn’t they permit that? It should have been safe. Just a note...something! He understood their hatred of you, but it was unfounded, petty. You never once dragged him away from them, from his work, so why? Why did they resort to such underhanded tactics, to split the two of you apart? Out of everyone they could have selected for this covert mission…why did it have to be the guy with so much to lose? You served as his guiding light, the one thing keeping the officials at the Safety Commission alive, and clear of his wrath.

Why were they so blind to that? It was always something new - you were spotted with another man, lip-locked and living it up, or you were being irresponsible, partying every other day, with three men on your arm. Their tall stories were ridiculous. They tried to convince him that you embodied some vile, evil seductress. They said you wouldn’t remain faithful, that his time was wasted on you.

Could they have been any more wrong?

Cursing under his breath, he whispered, "Wait for me, angel. I promise, I'll be with you soon. Just, please…wait for me."

How was he to know that nobody caught you, nobody saved you? That they all just watched, as you fell…? On who would he place the blame? Civilians, whom he protected at any cost? The Commission, who raised him, who brainwashed him into becoming what he was? Or, would he blame himself?

Only time would grant the answer.

[Word Count: 1202]