#like no the ability to say that you can drop everything and protest NEXT MONTH is a privilege that the majority of ppl ur protesting for-

[starlooove]

I can’t stand when ppl plan walkouts or strikes on a whim and then use ppl not doing them as an excuse to either say walkouts don’t work or ppl don’t practice what they preach 😭😭😭 like these things take YEARS of planning and rely on community first and foremost; if you don’t have finances or shelter or even basic emotional support in place for those you want to participate you need to take it back to the drawing board bc u don’t even got step one ready 💀

And to be clear this is no hate to anyone participating; hate to ppl mad about ppl who aren’t tho

[animeomegas]

MY FELLOW ANON ARE VIOLATING MY EMOTIONS TODAY 😂 god I’m acc crying. Your writing is amazing. I’m gonna combat the sadness with a wholesome thing of them finding a pup in a bin (or something) a few months after the loss of the first pup (Neji is currently shut down entirely) is like “lol gimme”. Proceeds to take the pup home, put it in his nest scent the lil bean (gender is your choice) and just be like “yeah this mine now”. Any nay sayers are ignored bc it’s still his baby (maybe almost like his pup reincarnated 👀👀) regardless of how baby was obtained. Idk I just think my guy needs some positivity after life kicking the ever loving shit out of him

This is beautiful and you’re right, Neji deserves the world, but I’ll settle with a quiet life and some happiness for my boy!

Okay, so things haven’t been…good with Neji since you had to let your pup die to save him.

It has been two months and still he lays in his nest every day, sometimes crying, sometimes whining, but mostly just staring at nothing. He had incorporated a bunch of baby stuff (blankets, toys etc.) into his nest before he went to the hospital, in order to make his pup feel more at home in the nest when he was supposed to bring them back. You had tried to take them out to stop him having to be confronted with what happened in his safe space, but Neji almost attacked you for doing so, so you let him keep them.

But it’s very concerning when he spends hours at a time just stroking the pup's blankets and staring at nothing.

So, you decide to take Neji on a walk to get him out of the house. It would be his first time leaving the house since the funeral.

You go at night time, because Neji is still refusing any contact with anyone he knows and this way he’s less likely to be confronted when he isn’t ready for it. To make extra sure that you can be alone, you decide to walk around the edge of the woods around one of the quieter training grounds.

Neji doesn’t speak much, but he doesn’t whine or cry either, and the night air brings a little colour to his cheeks, and you’re so happy at the small improvements. It doesn’t matter how long it ends up taking him to feel better, you’ll be here with him the whole way.

…

“I was thinking about cooking something special next week,” you make idle conversation, not expecting Neji to reply. “It’s our anniversary after all, do you have any preference?”

Neji stops walking suddenly. His shoulders are tense.

“Neji?”

He hushes you harshly.

“I can hear…”

Without another word of warning, Neji makes his way a little further into the trees. You follow him, confused and worried.

“Byakugan!” he calls, scanning the area. He gasps as he scans over a nearby bush and immediately he drops to his knees beside it.

“Neji?” you ask, now more than a little concerned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You watch as Neji pulls something out of the bush. He turns around with a bundle in his arms.

“It’s a pup,” Neji says, obviously shocked. You can’t blame him, you’re feeling more than a little shocked yourself. What on earth was a pup doing out here? “They’re freezing. Give me your jacket.”

Without hesitance, you quickly slip your jacket of and hand it to Neji who promptly bundles up the pup in it and brings them to his chest. The pup is making small whimpering noises that had been almost impossible to hear over the wind. Neji must have hear them, thank goodness.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Neji coos to the pup. “You’re safe now, I'll take you home and make it better, I promise.”

“We need to get them to the hospital asap," you say, shaking your head. "They must be freezing and they look underweight as well. We’re not mednin, Neji.”

“Our home is closer.”

“Neji…”

“We need to make sure they’re warm,” he argues. “We can bring them home and alert a medic to make a home visit.”

You look at the earnest look on his face and know that he won’t back down, and now isn’t a time for arguments anyway.

“Okay,” you swallow nervously. “We’ll bring them home.”

…

You bring the pup back to your home and before you can protest, Neji brings them into his nest with a mumbled ‘they’ll be warm in there’.

Neji bundles himself and the pup up in the corner of the nest, turning on a little heater beside him, and tucking the pup into his shirt to share body warmth.

“We’ll get you nice and warm, it’s okay, you’re safe, I won’t let anyone harm you,” he whispers while stroking their cheek with a finger. The pup wriggles around, already looking more energetic, and starts mouthing at Neji’s chest.

“Are you hungry?” Neji laughs softly before turning to you. “Go and heat up a bottle for the pup, all the supplies are in the… the nursery.”

You nod dumbly and do as you’re asked, astounded at how much life is in Neji’s eyes. It’s the most life you’ve seen from him in months. But you can’t help but worry. What if Neji gets attached and you can’t keep the pup? Of course, you want nothing more than to keep the baby, it almost seems too good to be true that she literally fell into both your lives at this trying time, but what if it is too good to be true? What if they’re sick? Or their parents are looking for them? Or… something else. Neji doesn’t deserve another heartbreak, and you don’t want to destroy the small amount of progress he’s made in the last month.

But for now, all you can do is heat up the bottle.

…

“Here, it’s a good temperature, I already checked,” you pass Neji the bottle. He checks it again anyway and you can’t help but smile at how overprotective and parental he's being. It's so bittersweet to see him like this.

“Here you go sweetheart, just for you,” Neji smiles, cradling the pup as they latch onto the bottle with fervour. “Shh, shh, shh, slow down, it’s not going anywhere.”

Neji feeds the pup and then burps them, and you pretend you can’t see him smiling when he notices that they are starting to smell like him. You need to know you can keep her before you let him get even more attached.

“I’m going to send a clone for a medic, now.”

The room became tense all at once.

“They’re fine, I’m looking after them,” Neji protests.

“I know, and you’re doing a good job, but we still need a medic, Neji.”

Neji holds the pup more tightly to his chest, tucking an extra blanket around them. He's using the special blanket you had got commissioned for your pup. You can feel your heart break at the sight. He's already attached. Now you just have to hope you can keep them. For his sake.

“I don’t want them to take the pup away like last time,” Neji admits softly. "I can look after them, I won't let anything happen like last time, I promise. They'll be safe, we don't need a medic."

“We need to know their primary and secondary gender, omega, and we need to make sure they aren’t sick after being left in the woods…”

Neji hesitates but nods his consent in the end after you explain that your pup could become ill if left untreated. You don’t tell him that you are also sending a clone to the Hokage. Naruto will be able to grant you and Neji the right to keep the pup, and you hope that as Neji’s friend, he’ll be able to see how much he needs this.

…

You have to move Neji and the pup downstairs to wait for the medic, because Neji would not appreciate someone unknown seeing his nest he made for his pup. He’s not expecting Naruto to show up as well so you go to the door to intercept and prep them both.

“Thank you so much for coming, Naruto, I can’t tell you how much this means to me and Neji,” you say, hugging him as he walks through the door.

“I’m going to do everything I can,” he promises. “If the medic finds signs of long-term neglect, I can take the parental rights away from the biological parents straight away, even if I don't know who they are, and transfer you the rights.”

Your face visibly brightens, but Naruto continues.

“But if the only injuries are from laying in the forest for a few hours, I’ll have to try and find the parents first, because the child may have been taken from them by force, when the pup was otherwise a healthy baby being looked after sufficiently. In that circumstance, I’ll have to take the child back with me and put them in foster care until a three-month window has passed. And if the parents are found…”

“I know,” you sigh. “Let’s just get this done as soon as possible.”

The three of you walk into the living to see Neji cradling the pup tightly against his chest.

“Hey Neji,” Naruto greets softly with a sad smile. “I haven’t seen you around for a while.”

Neji tenses upon seeing Naruto.

“Naruto? Why are you here?” Neji clearly misinterprets the situation, holding the pup even more tightly and turning accusatory eyes against you. “Why did you bring him here?”

“I’m here to determine whether the pup was abandoned or kidnapped to the best of my abilities, once we have that done, we can decide how things are going to happen, okay?”

“How do you decide that?” Neji asks with distrustful eyes.

“The medic will give them a check-up, completely routine, I promise,” Naruto speaks with a soft voice like he’s talking to a cornered animal. Well, you look at Neji for a moment who is coiled as tightly as spring, he’s not far off.

It takes about five minutes for you to convince Neji to let go of the pup and hand them to the mednin, and then the next fifteen minutes involve you holding him in your arms to stop him wrestling the pup back from the mednin.

And then, rather ominously, the mednin pulls Naruto aside to talk.

Neji is shaking in your arms.

“It’s okay, calm down, Neji,” you try to comfort him.

“I can’t-“ Neji chokes, hands fisting in your shirt. “He has our pup, you let them take our pup.”

You don’t bother to correct him on his use of ��our’, knowing it would only upset him more.

“I know baby, but they need to see that they’re healthy, nothing’s wrong, just breathe.”

Neji doesn’t take your advice.

"Last time they took them-"

"This isn't like last time, omega. Come one, try and settle down a little, that's it."

...

Naruto eventually walks back in, holding the pup securely, the mednin nowhere to be seen.

“So,” Naruto says seriously. And then his face breaks out into a wide grin. “Am I right in thinking you want to adopt?”

You can almost feel your relief in the air. Thanking every power that be for this stroke of luck. Losing this pup could have easily meant losing your mate, and the gravity of the situation all comes crashing down at once. Neji looks as though he is feeling much the same.

“Give me them,” he orders, arms out.

“Her,” Naruto corrects. “The mednin said she’s a female alpha.”

Tears start welling up in Neji’s eyes as he takes her. Their bio pup was a female alpha, too.

“Thank you,” he whispers to no one, holding his new pup as tightly as he dared. “I’ve got you now, you’re safe and sound with me, I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Naruto slips out of the house without a fuss, dropping the mednin’s recommendations for feeding the underweight pup on the coffee table.

...

You and Neji take your new pup upstairs and bundle her back into the nest. Neji lays down with her, stroking her cheek as he watches her sleep.

“You need to get some rest too, omega,” you suggest, running a hand down Neji’s back.

“Guard?” he asks in response.

“Yes," you smile at his protective instincts. "I’ll guard the nest while you sleep, I promise.”

“Okay, alpha…” Neji settles down, still with one hand resting on the pup. “But if I don’t wake up when she cries, wake me… I want to be the one to feed her.”

You laugh gently, “Of course, now get some sleep. I’ll guard you both.”

[missinghan]

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

[aomineavenue]

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ at peace | dearest daddy

mia speaks!: 

okay, wow. So it took awhile for us to get here and I apologize for that but we’re finally done with Homesick, wew. It’s been a challenge but I’m so happy and grateful for all the positivity you guys have been sharing with me. Also, thank you so much for your patience. 

It’s been an emotional ride but we’re finally done. There may be a few short stories after this chapter but no promises. Hopefully I get the chance to though, I do want to be able to. But for now, if you guys have any requests for imagines/scenarios with this series, don’t be afraid to send them over!

Also, big thanks to @oii-sugasan​ and @sunshinesero​ for beta-reading this for me! I apologize if this chapter is any way lacking compared to the first nine chapters, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything so I hope this was a great way to end this series. 

I love you guys so much, I’m so glad to be (sorta) back. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly. It had been seven months since your life had once again made drastic changes. It often surprised you how time flew by so fast.

Seven months since your two precious boys had been introduced to the man that they now call their father. And well, seven months since you had been reunited with the love of your life. Sure, it had ups and downs, it wasn’t bound to be perfect since the two of you were your own person. It was inevitable for such different personalities to clash, it didn’t help when there were two children present, one of them being as handful as their own father.

Atsumu had shown that he was a doting father, despite only being a part of their lives for less than a year, he had put his new family as his top priority, wanting to make up for lost time. He would instantly drop anything and everything, sometimes even volleyball when he could for times when his family needed him. Not that his new family had been a burden since then, his sons and of course you, have been nothing but loving and supportive. Showing up to games to cheer him on and the twins attending his training to either join or just watch their father and new favorite uncles.

It had been a rollercoaster ride since it was officially announced that Atsumu was off the market and that he actually had sons. Some fans were supportive, believing the news and claiming that both the young twins were striking replicas of the volleyball player. And of course, there were fans that were against it, raging how you were nothing more than a money-grabbing harlot and that you had probably lied to Atsumu about the twins being his.

They were quickly shut down, of course, by not just fans but various people close to the volleyball setter who defended you without you even asking for it. You weren’t going to lie, that particular month filled with venomous words thrown your direction stressed you out but it was mostly because of your motherly instincts, wanting to keep your sons away from such unnecessary drama. You and Atsumu had decided to ignore the majority of the vile comments but seeing you so emotionally exhausted had only fueled the already tiny flame in Atsumu. He was quick to announce that he would no longer tolerate any form of slander towards his family and would handle things legally if anyone were to step out of line.

And by the next few weeks, the hate simmered and the stress that had engulfed you and Atsumu in its grip had vanished. All that was left that made you both worry was Atsuhiro’s health.

Fortunately, Atsuhiro’s sickness didn’t grow worse as time passed by since his first transfusion. If anything, the boy was healthier and it was very much evident in his features. The healthy glow returned to his skin, he was smiling more and had shown his usual energetic-self like before he had fallen ill. Atsumu on the other hand, much to Atsuhiro’s dismay, had started becoming such an overprotective father. It took a lot of begging from Atsuhiko for their father to spend the day outside of the protective bubble of your apartment.

It took time and patience from everyone’s side to get this far, and for Atsumu, (and of course, you) he didn’t mind it one bit. He had grown more mature, despite his twin brother’s disagreements, he not only took care of himself more but he had become a role model to his sons.

Not only that, but as his relationship with his sons grew stronger, the love the two of you had for each other only seemed to intensify as well. Sure, the two of you had ups and downs back then in your friendship but it was as if time and distance hadn’t kept the two of you apart. If anything, it was as if it made your bond stronger. Two best friends, reuniting and finally expressing their true desires, it was easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable routine.

“Where are the boys of the hour? I’ve been wanting to see how good Hiko looks in my jersey!”

Bokuto interrupts your thoughts for a brief second before you return your focus to your duties of cutting up the vegetables in the kitchen. You can’t help but chuckle at the sour expression that graces Atsumu’s expression as he fills a tray of refreshments on one of the island counters. “Don’t remind me, Bo-kun.”

“You’re just jealous that your sons didn’t want to wear your jersey," he teases, a playful grin on his lips as he lifts himself off of the ground by his hands to sit on the counter.

The scowl on Atsumu's face only deepens at the reminder, "Get off the counter, Bo-kun. Don't be rude. Why don't you actually start to help and give out these refreshments to the guests?"

You watch in amusement as the two exchange their usual banter around the kitchen of your home in Hyogo. It was decided a week ago after Atsuhiro's second transfusion was a success, that the twins would celebrate their birthday back at Hyogo instead of having the guests cramp up in your small apartment in Kanagawa.

It was also then decided by your sons what theme they would be having for their birthday. It was traditional for the twins to have their birthdays themed depending on their current interest. Lately, since the two were very fixated on volleyball due to their new favorite uncles and of course, their father, it was decided that they would be having a volleyball themed birthday where the guests were required to wear their favorite player's jersey.

For a minute, your new friend Bokuto had been rather excited upon hearing the idea.

"So show up with our own jerseys? Great!"

And as for Atsumu, he was excited at the prospect of seeing his own sons wearing his jersey. That is, until his sons destroyed such dreams.

"Are the two of you really sure?" you hear Atsumu's voice echoing from the twins' bedroom throughout the walls of the apartment as you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you as you ventured further into the comforts of your home. “Like really? Those are your choices?”

You grew curious as you slipped out of your shoes and let your hair loose from its tight bun, wincing slightly from your tugging. There was a tinge of whininess dripping from Atsumu’s voice that you couldn’t help but wonder what the three of them were talking about. It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to be around when you had to work on days where the boys came home from school or when they didn’t have school.

At most times, when Atsumu didn't have training, he would be the one taking care of the boys instead of your mother or Osamu. Majority of his free time away from volleyball was spent with his sons, wanting to make up for the time he had lost. And there wasn't a day where the young twins wouldn't ask about their father and if he was going to visit. It was as if they were scared one of them would disappear, wanting to spend the entirety of their lives together.

"Maybe we can go with superheroes this year!" Atsumu's voice grew louder as you reached the door to the room where they occupied. Leaning against the door's frame, your eyes land on the back of Atsumu's head as he's seated on the carpeted floor facing the twins who were playing with their action figures. A small grin curling upon your lips at the sight of Atsumu’s slightly dishevelled bleached hair.

Atsuhiro, who seems to have the ability to sense your presence, looks up from his toys and in an instant, his eyes widen happily. He was about to greet you but you quickly pressed your index finger against your lips to signal the little boy not to announce your presence just yet, wanting to see Atsuhiko and Atsumu's interaction. The smart little boy that he is, nods and returns to his toys.

"But daddy," Atsuhiko protests, his focus still on the action figures in his hands, "We did superheroes last year! I wanna wear Uncle Bo's jersey!"

You fight the urge to burst out into a fit of giggles as soon as you catch a glimpse of Atsumu slumping his shoulders dejectedly. Now you understand as to why he had his moppy voice on. "But don't you want to wear daddy's jersey for your birthday?"

"But daddy," Atsuhiko lets out a sigh, looking up at his father with a look that meant the little boy wasn't up for any arguments on the matter, "Uncle Bo is the best! So I wanna wear his jersey!"

You could have sworn you heard Atsumu whine, suddenly wishing you had decided to film this from the start. "But it will make daddy really happy if you wear his jersey!"

Atsuhiko shakes his head as he continues to play with his action figures, "But I want Uncle Bo and I to match!"

Atsumu sighs in defeat before turning his attention over to Atsuhiro, looking hopeful. "What about you, Hiro? Would you wear daddy's jersey?"

"No, daddy. I wanna wear Kageyama-san's jersey," he nods with a proud smile, "Wanna be just like him! He's so good!"

"But daddy's just as good a setter as Tobio-kun!" Atsumu cries out, throwing his hands up in the air, "betrayed by my own children. 'Samu isn't going to let me live this down."

This time, you let your presence be known by finally releasing a bubble of laughter. Atsuhiko instantly drops his action figures and rushes over with a happy squeal. Atsumu pivots his body, looking up at you with such a pitiful gaze as he juts his lower lips out ot a pout, "I want new children."

Needless to say, Atsumu had been pouty ever since and has been dreading today due to the reason that every single one of his friends had found out about it. He had tried a handful of times to change their minds, unfortunately, the young twins won't budge.

“It’s not my fault your kids like me better than you,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest, “I am an ordinary ace after all!”

A scowl graces on Atsumu’s features which causes the other occupants in the room to chuckle in amusement. It wasn’t as if Atsumu didn’t like the idea of his sons becoming close to his teammates, but lately, it was getting harder for the setter to share. “Get your own children!”

“Ah, about that...” Bokuto trails off with a nervous chuckle which causes everyone to fall silent and look at him in curiosity, “I actually will be getting my own child soon, I think.”

“You think?” you ask with an arched brow, “You can’t just think you’re having a child, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu interjects, “And aren’t you in love with that best friend of yours? What happened to never being with anyone else but her?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively with a frown etched on his lips, “Well, I can’t exactly be with her when she just got married.”

“You are so getting your ear torn off by the management when this news gets out,” Atsumu snickers, which he earns a smack to his shoulder from you. “Ow!”

You narrow your gaze at your boyfriend, completely unamused with his behavior. “Don't be dramatic, I didn't hit you that hard!" Letting out a huff as you wipe your hands on the apron you were wearing, "You aren’t helping Bokuto, ‘Tsumu.”

His lips curl up to a cheeky grin at the sight of your expression. He leans forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, your cheeks growing warm from the public display of affection. His heart swells from your reaction to his gesture, murmuring teasingly, “Sorry, darling.”

“Please, don’t make me barf.” Osamu interrupts with his features scrunched up in distaste from the interaction between you and his brother.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother who returns the gesture with a shake of his head. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to his side as he returns his attention over to his teammate, “Well, is the woman making you marry her?”

“Making you pay for child support?” Osamu quickly adds.

Atsumu quips with a chuckle, “Threatening to expose your sins?”

You interrupt the two with a glare towards them, “Stop ganging up on him!”

Bokuto lets out a laugh as he begins helping your mother set up the desserts onto one of the trays to bring outside to the guests, “Nothing like that, she’s pretty chill and we’ve gotten pretty close lately. So we’re going to co-parent.”

“That’s very mature of you, Bokuto-kun.” your mother compliments him with a smile before patting his back.

He feels his cheeks grow warm from the compliment, his heart swelling with pride. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up falling for her anyway,” Osamu teases with a smirk playing on his lips, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

He shakes his head at the idea as his brows knit together, “Jess and I won’t fall in love.”

“Jess?” Atsumu blinks at the familiar name before his eyes widens at the realization, releasing his grip from your waist, “Jess, that journalist that you showed around town when she first visited Japan?”

Bokuto nods with a smile gracing his features, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love her in your own way through your child,” you suggest with a shrug of your shoulders as you began untying the apron you were wearing upon realizing what time it was.

Atsumu shakes his head and responds before Bokuto could utter a single word, “No, no. That’s impossible. Bo-kun’s heart belongs to his best friend.”

“Stop teasing him,” you scold your boyfriend with a shake of your head, handing over the apron you successfully took off, “make yourself useful and help out here in the kitchen,"

"Bu—"

Cutting him off with a stern glare as you lift a tray from one of the kitchen counters and handing it over to Bokuto, a small smile gracing your lips, "Don't mind him, Bo. Can you bring these to the backyard and help out if anyone else needs help? I think Reiji needs a hand setting up the bouncy castle,"

Retrieving the tray from your hands, his eyes lighting up from the excitement, "bouncy castle, you say?"

"That's for the kids, Bo-kun." Atsumu scoffs but soon lets his lips form into a pout when he had been ignored, turning his attention over to you once Bokuto slips out of the kitchen, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on the boys to see if they're ready for their big entrance," you muse with an amused grin. Of course, you knew what your sons had prepared for the big entrance that they insisted. Atsumu had pestered both you and the young twins since he had heard of their plan but as your sons refused to budge, you had feigned clueless, claiming that your sons had opted it to be a surprise.

Little did Atsumu know that you had helped your sons pull off such an idea.

"I don't get why they have to have a big entrance," he sighs, brows furrowing as he racks through his thoughts on what the surprise could be. It didn't help that he was both curious and excited at what his sons might pull off.

Osamu lets out a snort, rolling his eyes at his twin brother as a smirk curls upon his lips, "What do you mean? They're your kids."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu scowls as he slips on the apron you had handed over, walking over to where your mother was situated to take over what you were doing.

You shake your head at the two bickering older twins and shoot a look of sympathy towards your mother that was going to be left with them in the kitchen before she waves you off. Your heart was swelling from happiness at how natural everything felt, despite the silly banter thrown around. It was home.

As you step into your childhood living room, you're hit with a nostalgic wave from the memories surrounding the whole area. Though it may be a mixture of good and bad memories, since you had come to terms that you were no longer running away from your past, you only feel comfort. You made your way through your childhood home over to the bedroom that had been renovated to the liking of your twin boys.

The mere thought of your boys growing to love the place where you had grown up yourself was enough to bring a smile to your face. You press your knuckles against the wooden door to signal your presence by knocking on it repeatedly, “Are you two ready?” you ask, your voice probably muffled on the other side. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the door and as you were about to twist and push it open, the door instantly snaps back shut with a loud thud. “Can’t-”

“No, mommy!” Atsuhiko screeched causing you to blink from both the surprised force and tone. Pressing your palms and ear against the door to hear what the commotion was all about, you frown upon hearing only their shuffling feet, “What are you two doing? Guests have arrived and your party will be starting soon,”

“We’re almost ready, mommy!” Atsuhiro assures you from the other side.

A chuckle escapes your lips at their antics as you decide to not interfere any further, “Alright you two, just be sure to be out in a few. You don’t want your daddy to come fetch you. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Okay mommy!” you heard Atsuhiko yell out, their excited muffled voices purely obvious from the other side that you couldn’t help but smile.

On the other hand, back in the kitchen, the father of your twins was having his own little dilemma back in the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being around your mother, but it was more like he felt he was still lacking.

Despite him knowing that your mother and you hadn’t had the greatest relationship when your father passed away, he still wanted to be someone your mother would approve of. He didn’t know whether your mother knew the whole story of the relationship between the two of you but being away from you and your sons during most of their childhood was enough to make him worry. The mere idea of his sons looking up to him sent his heart soaring, but of course, he also wanted your mother to feel secure enough for him to be together with you and the twins.

“I’ll bring out these sliced up fruits outside,” Osamu cuts the clear tension surrounding the kitchen. Atsumu resists the urge to glare at his twin for leaving him behind with your mother, knowing full well that his brother knows his current insecurities. A small smirk graces Osamu’s features but not the obvious one that would make your mother notice.

Atsumu watches his twin slip out of the kitchen with a tray full of food for the guests before flickering his gaze over to your mother situated at the other side of the room, making final touches to the cupcakes. “Is there anything else that I can do?”

Without looking up, a smile etches on your mother’s face. “No, it’s fine. We’re just about done with everything.”

“It looks good,” he states with a nod of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Placing the piping bag to the side, your mother lifts her head up to look towards the direction of Atsumu and wipes her hands on the apron she’s currently wearing, “You know you can always start calling me mom.”

The mere sentence made Atsumu want to leap in excitement, but at the same time he was nervous, a sudden fear of messing things up engulfing him. “I don’t want to overste-”

“Oh please,” your mother waves her hand in the air with a light chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were eight. We’re practically family. So you might as well call me mom.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth tug up to a wide smile, “Alright, mom.”

“I’m really happy that the two of you decided to work things out,” your mother spoke with a smile as she delicately places the cupcakes on the cupcake stand.”

His feet shuffled across the room to help your mother stack the cupcakes onto the stand, “We had to for the kids anyway.”

Your mother hums in thought for a second before responding, “I think the kids were just the push the two of you needed. If anything, I’ve always thought the two of you would always end up together since the two of you always leaned on each other for anything.”

He nods his head slowly, leaning against the counter as he feels his heart swell with happiness. “I guess you’re right, mom. I did lean on her majority of the time when we were growing up. I guess I still am now. I just wish I could make her happy.”

“Don’t worry, you do. Before she left Hyogo, I know for a fact that she was miserable in this house after her dad had passed. You were the only one giving her a reason to move forward,” your mother spoke, sadness dripping from her voice.

A sigh escapes Atsumu’s lips as his features scrunch up to something that resembles pain. “I was also the reason why she left. I may be even the biggest reason why she left.”

Your mother extends an arm out and places a hand on Atsumu’s arm, trying her best to give assurance and comfort, “You weren’t the only reason behind that. I don’t know if she’s told you, but I had neglected her. I’m not proud of it and apologies are probably never enough for forgiveness. I was barely a mother when my husband had passed. I was almost an empty shell and instead of being a moth-”

“Mom,” Atsumu cuts her off and grabs hold of her hand in his own, “Don’t blame yourself. She loves you very much. It’s all in the past. We’ll be able to move forward, we already are.”

The two were interrupted with Osamu’s arrival, knocking by the kitchen’s door frame to announce his return. A smile etched on his lips at the scene before him, “Hey, Y/N wants everyone in the living room. Apparently the boys are ready to make their big entrance.”

Your mother excuses herself as soon as she removes the apron tied around her, excitement clearly evident in her features. Atsumu knew it well, despite the relationship that you had been slowly rebuilding with your mother, she was just as excited as him to have the twins into her life. She has equally doted on, if not more, on the twins ever since and well, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atsumu knew for a fact that you adored the time you’ve been sharing with your mother. As long as you were happy, nothing else mattered.

Osamu gives him a pat on the back, arching a brow in curiosity as they make their way out of the kitchen, “Everything alright?”

Atsumu gives him a nod, giving him the largest grin that he could muster. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You look disgusting,” Osamu jokes, pretending to shudder which causes Atsumu to give him a shove as they step into the living room where most of the guests have already gathered.

“Hey ‘tsumu!” Bokuto calls out from next to you as soon as Atsumu comes into view. “Hurry up! I’m excited to see Hiko in my jersey!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he approaches, grumbling to himself. As soon as he reaches your side, he places a quick kiss to your temple before snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Yeah, yeah. You have to stop rubbing it in. We get it.”

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as you lean yourself into Atsumu’s warmth, “Oh come on now you two, focus on the big entrance will you?”

Bokuto just snickers from the side while Atsumu sends him a glare. If you were to describe the two of them, they were practically acting like petty children but you know those two will eventually switch attitudes as soon as your twins step out to make their entrance.

You flicker your gaze over to Osamu who was situated a few steps ahead from your little group, trying his best to act natural with his phone up. The two of you had discussed prior to the party that he would be the one to film the whole thing going on. Your little boys had practically begged their uncle to film their big entrance but mostly, what you hoped Osamu to capture was Atsumu’s reaction.

A part of you expects that he would be a grinning mess at the sight of his kids but also, you’re also hoping he’d be speechless from all the teasing his kids put him through of having to wear someone else’s jersey.

“What’s taking them so long?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head slightly hoping to meet your eyes as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

As you were about to answer him, the familiar voices of your two boys echo throughout the room from the top of the stairs. You didn’t even have to look to know about their surprise since you know very well of what they had planned. Well, obviously, you had helped them out with picking up the jerseys that they were going to wear.

However, you had wanted to capture Atsumu’s reaction to your boys with your own two eyes instead of just watching it from a video. And honestly speaking, you didn’t think you’d fall in love with this man any more than you already do but here you are.

Just the mere sight of his features scrunching up to a look of awe was enough for your heart to swell. It looked as if he was close to tears as watches the twins descend the stairs with the prodest smiles they could muster.

You pry yourself away from his side as soon as the twins approach Atsumu, knowing full well what was going to happen as they had practiced what they were going to say. Flickering your gaze over to Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro, seeing them in Atsumu’s high school volleyball jersey made your own eyes water despite the fact that you were the ones who had gotten them the uniform a week ago.

“Wh-What are you guys wearing?” Atsumu almost chokes out his words, “What happened to the jerseys that we bought that you said you were going to wear?”

Atsuhiko throws his arms out in the air, smiling widely. “We changed daddy!”

“We wanna wear your jersey daddy,” Atushiro nods his head enthusiastically, lifting his hand up to grip onto Atsumu’s shirt.

Atsuhiko wraps his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “‘cause you’re our favorite volleyball player daddy!”

The scene itself was enough for everyone to watch in awe, a few of the guests that were invited had their own phones up to capture the moment with smiles on their faces, the others were almost practically in tears themselves, and well there was also Bokuto by the side with his pouty self at the realization that neither of his nephews were wearing his jersey like he thought they would. Atsumu on the other hand, had eventually dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around his two boys, burying his face in between them as he let out his own tears stream down his face from the overwhelming joy that coursed through him.

Yes, this is your family.

This is your home.

You stare out the window from the kitchen of your childhood home, a smile on your face at the beautiful afternoon of your backyard full with people you adore and have missed so much. 

The party was still in full swing despite the sun about to set, the laughter from the guests and a few children present rang in the air. Happiness had engulfed your heart and honestly, you had trouble believing it yourself but here you were. 

You wouldn’t trade this for anything. 

An arm snakes around your waist from behind and you would have been startled if you hadn’t felt Atsumu’s presence a minute ago. Despite not having seen each other in years, everything about him was still familiar. Sure, there were a few things about him that you didn’t know but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t your Atsumu that you’ve grown to love. 

“Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, a smile playing on his lips. 

You place your hands atop of his and lean yourself back into his warmth, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“For everything,” he lets out a sigh, causing a shiver to run down your spine from the heat radiating from his breath close to your ear, “For giving me two amazing boys and for existing yourself.” 

Pivoting your body around so that you were facing Atsumu, your hands settling on his chest as you look up at him with your lips curling up to an assuring smile, “Thank you.” 

“And what for?” Atsumu questions, matching your own smile with his own as his hands cup your face. He lowers his head slowly, nudging your nose with his own as the pads of his thumbs brush delicately against your skin. 

Heat spreads across your cheeks at his gestures, feeling shy yourself but despite that, the majority of what you felt was only comfort in being in his arms. “For loving me as much as I love you.” 

He hums in response, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “No, I probably do love you more. More than you can imagine.” 

Before you could respond, he places his lips back firmly on yours and your eyelids flutter shut as if on instinct. The hands of yours that were resting on his chest eventually found their way around his torso to pull him close. Tilting your head to the side, the kiss itself deepens as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

It just felt so natural being with him.

Before the kiss could grow more heated however, a loud yell from outside had interrupted the both of you causing you to pull away much to both of your dismay. Your heads turn towards the direction of the commotion, the bouncy castle coming into view.

Or rather, the depleting bouncy castle with Bokuto and Hinata coming out hastily in laughter. 

You shake your head at the scene, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips before turning your head back over to look at the man before you. Just when you had decided to pull back and return to your duties of being a mother, he wraps his arms back around your waist to pull you back against him. Another laugh escapes your lips as you playfully slap his chest, “What now? We have a party going on, we have to entertain our gue-” 

“Move in with me,” he interrupts, his features showing nothing but seriousness. 

You meet his sincere gaze with your own and your heart makes a leap out of joy. There was only one answer you could possibly give. 

“Yes.”

[lillywillow]

The Forest Provides

Summary: You and Muriel have been trying for a baby for a long time. One day, Muriel finds a baby alone in the woods

 Word Count: 1880

 Pairings: Muriel of the Kokhuri x Female Reader

 Warnings: Minor spoilers from the main plot, very mild angst at the beginning

 Married life with Muriel had been absolute bliss but lately you had felt like something was missing. It wasn’t until you were visiting Asra in town and started noticing the families around that you realised what it was; a child of your own. When you brought up your desire to Muriel, he was surprisingly open to it. After months of trying, you were starting to get a little discouraged.

...

 One night, you were lying in bed with your husband, idly tracing patterns on his chest.

 “What’s on your mind?” Muriel mumbled, his soft voice pulling you from your thoughts.

 “I’ve just been thinking... we’ve been trying for months for a baby and I’m wondering... what if it’s me? What if when I came back... not everything works right? I’m getting scared that I can’t carry a baby... The next time Nazali is in town, I’m going to ask them if they can do a full check up on me.”

 “You don’t trust Julian to do it?” Muriel asked, a little surprised.

 “It’s not that I don’t trust him, he’s one of my dearest friends. It’s just that Nazali has had more experience. They might be able to provide some answers...” You started to tear up a little at the thought of not being able to have a baby of your own.

 Muriel held you tighter. Much like you, he had been having his own doubts about his ability to give you a child. What if it was his fault that he couldn’t give you the child you wanted? Muriel chose not to voice his concerns in order not to worry you further. For now, he would just hold you in his arms and comfort you until you fell asleep.

...

 The following morning, Muriel was walking with Inanna in the woods looking for a few more supplies. Suddenly, the wolf stopped, sensing something.

 “What is it, Inanna?”

 Inanna started sniffing the ground, following the scent in a hurry. Muriel followed, feeling worried about her safety. Finally, she stopped in front of a tree, sitting proudly, tongue lolling out to the side.

 “Inanna, what have you...?” Muriel stopped dead in his tracks.

 Nestled under the shade of a tree in a basket was a sleeping baby. The infant had a head of soft black curls and was wrapped in green blankets. Muriel gentle knelt down and picked up the precious bundle. Disturbed by the sudden movement, the baby woke and opened her eyes, revealing them to be fawn brown. Muriel froze, afraid the baby was about to cry but instead, the infant simply cooed at him. He noticed a name had been lovingly stitched into the baby’s blanket.

 Kalila.

 “Inanna, can you see if you can find the parents anywhere?”

 The wolf started sniffing the ground and followed the scent for as long as she could but ultimately lost it. Muriel couldn’t help but wonder who would leave a defenceless baby all alone in the woods but then he thought about his own parents and how they gave him up to save his life. Maybe Kalila’s parents were also left with no choice... Muriel decided to bring her home with him.

...

 When Muriel arrived home, you ran up to greet him but stopped when you saw the basket he had in his arms.

 “What is that?”

 “I found her in the woods. Inanna and I looked for her parents but couldn’t find them,” Muriel replied, finding a safe place to put down the basket.

 Asra, (whom had dropped by for a visit), poked his fluffy white head from around you.

 “A baby...”

 “I brought her in. I won’t allow her to end up like us,” he said, turning his head to Asra. Asra gently placed a hand on his friend’s arm with a gentle smile.

  You were in absolute awe of Kalila. Carefully, you took her out of her basket and held her close.

 “She’s perfect,” you smiled, tearing up a little.

 Muriel couldn’t help but smile. At least in some form, he had given you the baby you had so desperately wanted. Then another thought crept into his mind; would he be a good enough father for this child?

 “You should get Julian to give her a check-up,” Asra said, gently picking up Kalila for a cuddle.

 “Does he have to?” Muriel muttered, somewhat bitterly.

 “Asra has a point, Muriel. We want little... Kalila to be healthy, right?” you stated, checking the baby’s blanket for her name.

 Muriel grumbled under his breath. He knew you were both right but that didn’t make him like it.

 “Right, then. I’ll go set it up,” Asra smiled, handing you back Kalila. “See you in a while!”

 With that, Asra headed out the door. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sullen expression on your husband’s face.

 “Wh-what?”

 “You’re awfully cute when you’re sulking,” you smiled. His face turned crimson.

 “I’m not sulking,” he protested, but the pout in his lip told another story.

 “Yeah, you are...”

 You were suddenly interrupted by Kalila cooing.

 “I’m going to be the best mother in the world to you...” The baby seemed to understand you and snuggled up close.

 Muriel knew that was true but could he say the same of his parenting skills? Time could only tell and he hoped he would be a good father to Kalila.

...

 A while later, there was a knock on the door. You opened it to see Julian standing there with his doctor bag and Asra holding some kind of bundle. Smiling, you ushered the pair inside.

 “I hope you don’t mind, but I told Nadia about your situation and she said she was more than happy to help,” he smiled, showing you the contents of the bundle. Inside were all kinds of baby supplies, from clothes to bottles.

 “We’ll have to thank her the next time we see her,” you smiled. Muriel made an affirmative grunt.

 “So, where is the bundle of joy?” Julian asked, removing his menacing looking coat and gloves.

 You went over to where Kalila was cuddled up to Inanna in front of the fireplace.

 “I’m going to take her away for a bit, okay? I’ll bring her back soon,” you assured the wolf. Inanna gave Kalila’s head a lick and allowed her to be picked up. Kalila giggled and cooed happily.

 “Here she is,” you said, placing Kalila on the table so Julian could examine her.

 The doctor began his task but the baby began to fuss.

 “Stop! You’re hurting her!” Muriel snapped.

 Inanna jumped to her feet, snarling and ready to protect Kalila. Julian raised his hands in defence.

 “It’s okay... I’m not hurting her. I think my hands are a little cold. That’s all the problem is...” Julian carefully went over to warm up his hands by the fire, under the watchful gaze of Muriel and Inanna. You kept a hand on both of them to keep them from tearing the doctor apart.

 Once they were warm enough, Julian went to continue his examination. Fortunately, that was indeed the issue and Kalila allowed herself to be poked and prodded.

 “She’s perfectly healthy. Just come and see me for regular checkups and call me if anything happens,” Julian smiled, putting away his equipment after cleaning it.

 “Good. Now get out,” Muriel grumbled.

 “Muriel,” you chided.

 “It’s okay, Y/N. I’ve got to get back to the clinic anyway. You coming, Asra?”

 “Yep! Right behind you. I’ll see you two later.”

 Asra hugged the pair of you before leaving with Julian. You had wondered why he would be at the clinic with Julian but you decided that perhaps that question was best unasked.

 Inanna trotted back to her comfy spot by the fire and settled down again. Muriel picked up Kalila and placed her back next to her furry godmother. The baby giggled happily and snuggled into Inanna’s fluffy side. Muriel smiled warmly at the pair, happy Kalila took so easily to his faithful companion. He watched them for a while before helping you get the place set up for little Kalila.

...

 That night, Muriel had a dream.

 He was standing in front of a familiar hut, wondering what he was doing there. Muriel was about to knock when the door was opened by an older woman.

 “Muriel!” The woman enveloped him in a tight hug.

 “Khamgalai? What are you doing here?”

 “What kind of question is that? I live here,” she huffed, bringing him inside. The inside of the hut was just as warm and inviting as he remembered.

 Khamgalai bustled about, making Muriel sit down.

 “Why... why am I here now?”

 “The Hermit told me you seek guidance...”

 Muriel’s brows furrowed together. He knew what was troubling him but he didn’t want to be a burden.

 “You’re worried you won’t be a good enough father to your new found daughter...” It was more of a statement than a question.

 Muriel opened and closed his mouth a few times before simply nodding.

 “I’m here to tell you that you will be a wonderful father to Kalila... and to the child your wife is carrying.”

 Muriel’s eyes widened.

 “Y/N is not... I mean... she...”

 “Oh, my! Yes, it is still a little too early to tell yet,” Khamgalai chuckled to herself. “But assure you, Y/N is pregnant. Your prayers have finally been answered.”

 Muriel stared at the smaller woman in shock. How did she...?

 “I answered them. Dear boy, I know you have doubts but I promise you this, Kalila will grow to be a strong young woman under your guidance. You will teach her all she needs to know. Same with the new baby Y/N will bring into the world.”

  “But...”

 “No buts! No more self doubt! I will come back to smack some sense into you if I have to!”

 Muriel managed a small smile and got up to hug Khamgalai.

 “Thank you...”

 “You’ve got a long journey ahead of you. I will always be watching over you. Rest assured. Give my love to Y/N...”

...

 You woke in the middle of the night to Kalila softly wailing. Stirring, you went to get up to tend to her but Muriel beat you to it.

 “I’ve got her...”

 You watched as he carefully took Kalila out of her basket to give her a bottle. Muriel hummed to her as he prepared the warm milk for her. The baby stared up at him adoringly as she waited, the sound of Muriel’s rumbling voice gently soothing her. Your heart melted at the sight.

 When Kalila was fed, burped and put back to sleep, Muriel returned to you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and placed one hand on your tummy.

 “You’re going to make a wonderful father,” you sleepily purred, nuzzling him.

 Muriel thought about Khamgalai’s words. He suddenly found himself excited for this next chapter of his life, knowing he had all the love and support of his family and friends.

[tsarisfanfiction]

A Prickly Situation

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Scott, Alan

Alan was terrified, but at least he was unhurt.  Scott would do everything in his power to keep the latter fact that way.

Next up for @whumptober-archive with day 4 “Trust Fall”, somehow using all three prompts: “Do you trust me?”, taken hostage, and pushed.​  Will this get a follow up?  Who knows - it depends on the rest of the month’s prompts.

The cliff edge was right behind his heels; as his weight shifted, pebbles wriggled loose and tumbled down, landing in a rustle of disturbed foliage.  Scott wasn’t sure how far down it was, or what was at the bottom, and he wasn’t particularly interested in finding out, either.

Alan was near tears. Scott couldn’t blame him; a gun to the temple was terrifying, and they’d both heard the click of the safety coming off when Scott hadn’t complied with the demands instantaneously enough for the owner’s liking.

If it was just him, he’d probably have considered fighting back, but he hadn’t come out alone, and as he looked into the too-bright eyes of his terrified youngest brother he regretted the decision to bring him out as well.  Alan was far too young to be exposed to this sort of situation, far too young to be used as a hostage to force compliance.

Scott shivered, and it wasn’t just fear for his brother.  Beside him, folded up with military precision, sat his flight suit, with the rest of his gear stacked up neatly on top.  Alan’s was in a scruffier pile, partially due to his personality, and partially due to the gun kissing his skin the entire time.

Even still wearing the undershirt and shorts, the wind was cold.  Beneath his bare feet, the cliff edge crumbled a little more.

“Thank you for your co-operation.”  The man was alone, but alone with a gun still put the power in his hands, especially when he had it pointed straight at Scott’s youngest brother and a pincer grip on the teenager’s shoulder to hold him in place.  Despite his terror, Alan was smart enough to know to stay still rather than try and escape, although having been instructed to step back to the cliff edge, Scott was concerned about their survival chances regardless.

Certainly he was looking at an imminent drop unless a miracle occurred.

“Now that I have what I need,” the man continued, finger threateningly perched on the pistol’s trigger, “I don’t need you.”

Scott’s heart leapt up into his mouth and he frantically scrambled for a solution, a way to save Alan at the least even as he met wide blue eyes.  Help me, they begged, moisture beading and threatening to overflow. Scotty, I’m scared.

At the end of the day, Alan was still a child.  Scott knew that, even when Alan was wearing IR Blue with his signature red baldric. He couldn’t forget that his youngest brother, no matter the feats he pulled off as part of International Rescue, shouldn’t be worrying about anything more important than his homework, not facing life and death situations almost daily.  He certainly shouldn’t be facing his own death.

“Don’t-” he started, breathless and desperate.  “Not him. He’s just a child, please-”

A bark of laughter cut him off and his eyes tore themselves from Alan to look at the man.  There was a crazed grin on his face, and something calculatingly vicious in his eyes.

“How easy it is to get the Commander of International Rescue to beg,” he drawled.  “Move.”  The word was aimed at Alan, alongside a kick to the back of his legs that had him stumbling forwards a pace, held up only by the vice-like grip on his shoulder and the gun still pressed to his head.

Another step and he’d be in Scott’s reach.  The metaphorical chasm that yawned between them felt far more dangerous than the literal one beneath Scott’s bare heels.

“If you don’t want him to die,” the man continued.  “Then you’d better think fast, Commander.”

The hand left Alan’s shoulder, then thrust into his back, sending him staggering him forwards, towards the cliff edge.  A foot joined the effort, and Alan’s arms pinwheeled in a vain attempt to keep his balance.

He wasn’t going to make it.

Scott was moving before his thoughts caught up, the ground falling away beneath his feet as he threw himself between Alan and the cliff edge.  The action left him off-balance, too.

Alan slammed into him and then they were both falling.

It wasn’t a long drop, Scott discovered as his back crashed into something leafy, crushing it beneath his body as he came to a stop that stole the breath from his lungs.  Safely encased in his arms, Alan was tucked up against his body, shielded from the impact as best Scott could manage.

For a brief moment, it felt like they’d escaped unharmed.

Then his nerves set on fire.

Every inch of exposed skin burned, including where his undershirt appeared to have ridden up his back slightly at the contact, and a gasp erupted from Scott’s throat unbidden.

“Scott?” At Alan’s small, scared, voice, he tightened his grip further, pinning him in place.  “Scott, are you okay?”  He wrenched open eyes he didn’t recall closing to see a mop of blond hair rising from where it’d been tucked under his chin.  Stray strands tickled his lips as Alan looked up at him with big, blue eyes.

He couldn’t say he was fine, not when his skin was crawling like a colony of fire ants had decided to hold a festival on it and his lungs were constricted by the resultant pain combined with the brother on top of him.  He wasn’t sure he could say anything at all, but he had to try.

The first thing out of his mouth was a hiss of pain.  “What,” he started, gasping the word more than saying it and watching Alan’s already wide eyes widen further, “did… did I, land on?”

It had to be some sort of aggressive foliage to hit his entire body at once; an upset animal bite would have a specific epicentre, and it was definitely an external cause, not an injury – the same foliage that was objecting severely to his presence had cushioned his fall enough that he didn’t think he’d seriously injured anything, although there would definitely be several bruises.

“Huh?”  Alan moved, shifting his weight and inadvertently pressing parts of Scott’s body further into the plant below.  He swallowed back the resultant hisses.  “Oh.”  He started wriggling to get up and Scott pinned him down as firmly as he could as his biceps started trembling from the prickle of fire assaulting them from below.  “Uh, Scott, it’s a giant nettle patch.”

Well that explained the fiery sensation crawling across his skin.

Alan tried to escape again, but Scott grit his teeth and held on.

“Scott, let me up!” his brother protested.  “We have to get out of here.”  

He couldn’t argue with that, but he could and would argue at Alan wandering through a field of nettles in bare feet and shorts.

“Stay still,” he grunted.

“But, Scott-”

“No point-” he broke off with a gasp, chest heaving, “-both of us, ah, getting stung.”

“I don’t think that’s avoidable,” Alan mumbled.  “There’s a lot of nettles.”

Scott didn’t care how many nettles there were; he’d failed to protect Alan from the man with the gun, he wasn’t going to let him get hurt by nettles, of all things, as well.

“Shift your… weight,” he instructed with another gasp.  “On my stomach.”

“Are you sure?” Alan still sounded uncertain, but Scott was sure he could hear a touch of relief underneath it. “Can you carry me with all those stings? You don’t look too hot.”

“Do you… trust me?” Scott pressed with a wheeze, knowing that the answer had to be yes, or he might just break.

“Of course I do!”  The response was lightning-fast and soothed a spike of anxiety before it could take hold, even if it couldn’t sooth the prickling burn of nettle stings as they sank deeper into his skin.  Scott had been stung before, although never on this level, and knew that it’d be days before his body recovered from this torture.

The affirmation of his trust, however, seemed to be the catalyst Alan needed to get moving, shimmying off of Scott’s chest to coil up on his gut.  The air squeezed out of his stomach was alleviated by the sudden ability to get air into his lungs, and Scott drew in several deep breaths before approaching the challenge of moving.

His palms shrieked as he sacrificed them to the nettles for leverage, unable to use just his abs to sit up while Alan was sitting on them.  At the same time he drew his knees up, blocking Alan from sliding too far down, and as soon as he was sat vaguely upright he shuffled his hands around until only one was needed to keep him semi-vertical.  The other wrapped back around the back of Alan’s knees, holding him in place like a much younger child as he gasped an instruction for Alan to hold onto him.

Thin, child’s arms wrapped around his neck, uncomfortably tight but Scott wasn’t going to tell him to let go.

Instead, he groaned with dread before finding all the strength left that could be mustered and thrusting his torso up and forwards to force himself to his feet.

He almost overbalanced entirely and ended up flat on his face, as though half his body was annoyed at missing out on the stings, but thankfully a couple of staggers and a second hand wrapping tightly around Alan kept him upright.

His back wasn’t appeased, despite no longer being in direct contact with the nettles, and none of the rest of his body was, either.  The soles of his feet screamed as they were roped into the punishment of crushing stinging nettles with every step, but Scott was good at working through pain and kept staggering forwards, taking the shortest looking path out of the patch.

Alan’s hold on him tightened as he swayed, although whether it was reassurance or fear, Scott didn’t like to guess.

(It was probably fear, his mind hissed anyway.)

The burn wasn’t fading even though his skin – tormented and abused feet aside – was no longer in contact with the cause.  How many minor barbs, hairs, whatever nettles used to sting, were buried in him he tried not to think about.  The answer was too many, enough that his body was shaking, limbs supporting his and Alan’s weights trembling, and the nettle patch could likely be justifiably referred to as a nettle forest based on its footprint.

Too big, too agonising, too everything.  He staggered more than he walked, more than once his vision blurring or even whiting out entirely, but they had to get clear before he could risk setting Alan down. He didn’t want to set Alan down at all.

His body disagreed, despite his best efforts to the contrary.  Adrenaline, stubbornness, and anything else he could use to force the dregs of his body to forge through the prickling, rushing, fire of thousands of nettle stings, could only get him beyond the border of the nettle patch by one, single, step.

Knees hit the ground hard, one hitting something hard and sharp that was probably a stone and splitting open to let liquid run down into the ground below, as though it really needed any more feeding.  He barely released Alan in time, little brother scrambling backwards on his palms with blue eyes just as wide as they’d been throughout the entire experience as Scott crashed down onto his front.

“Scott!”

They were clear of the nettles. Alan was clear of the nettles.  Scott had no idea how they were going to get any further; their comms were gone, just like the rest of their gear.  He couldn’t even summon Thunderbird One to pick them up, let alone call John for help.

He could do nothing except lay in a somewhat crumpled heap, vaguely grateful that his front wasn’t also being assaulted with nettles as Alan fussed worriedly, and hope that their bad luck was over for the day.

[bbhyeoliskooks]

Could you possibly do a reaction to TXT when their s/o tells them they struggle with anxiety?

༻﹡ 𝐈 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 ﹡༺

➶ TXT’s Reaction to Their S/O Telling them they Struggle with Anxiety.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺ 

Genre: A few pinches of angst and an overflowing amount of fluff~

Warnings: Talking about anxiety and attacks, unedited, very cheesy stuff as always !

( I’m so sorry that it took so long to get to you!! As an apology, I did a bit more writing than the usual bullet points hehe~ So i hope you enjoy! I really liked writing this since I relate a lot and anxiety takes over me sometimes. just know that i’m always here for you, alright 🥺💕 ? whoever you are, whoever you love, I’m here to listen to all your problems. Always.)

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Yeonjun: ﹡﹡

Was everything alright?

Right off the bat, Yeonjun could see the shadow of your nervous stature linger at the door of your bedroom. He wondered so silently why you stayed there for a while, not making a move to take a step into the room he thought made you feel at ease. Did he do something wrong? He couldn’t recall what happened earlier other than the two of you watching movies while you talked about your day... did anything set you off?

Well, he remembered that you weren’t paying much attention to his words at the end of his conversation. He couldn’t blame you. He must’ve been droning off and off about those fancy yet stupid pants he found hilarious to be on himself when he looked in the mirror the other day, so there’s no reason why you’d lose interest during the demise of his story. Plus, you were dozing off or something. He assumed you were going to fall asleep since it was already reaching one am, so he invited you to the two of yours’ bedroom, getting up from the couch with a content smile from how relaxed you’d been with him. 

Now though, he could sense that something was clearly wrong. You were never reluctant to enter the room like this before if he remembered correctly. Yes there were the shy wonders if you were barging into his personal space, but that was what being a couple was. He was right there for you, and right there you’d always be too. He loved you so dearly, but at this moment he couldn’t figure out why you were acting so sheepishly in front of him. 

All of a sudden when he least expected it, the timid shakiness of your voice reached his ears, bundling up into a jumble of words he couldn’t understand until he replayed it in his mind over and over again. 

“I need to tell you something. I... I struggle with anxiety, Jun.”

So that was what it was?

The boy couldn’t help himself, arising from the soft mess of the covers which slid off the bed when he got up. He was worried for really nothing, but he was so glad you trusted him enough to tell him this. He knows how hard it is and the fact that you told him even if it was difficult for you? It was the very least to say he treasured you more than anyone his entire life had known when he comprehended that. 

Reaching out to hold you, he trapped you in his signature but soft bear hug while you gasped soundlessly. Out of all the reactions, you were least expecting something as heartwarming as this... 

His nose made its way to your neck, burying itself quietly while the whispers of his soft, gentle voice tickled your right ear. You melted into his arms upon hearing him comfort you sweetly, letting him hold you in his embrace with no protests. As always, his hugs gave you the most warmth when you were least expecting it, and you were extremely grateful for that. 

No matter what your boyfriend did, you weren’t able to resist him even if it was so hard to tell him what you were struggling with. Of course you knew he’d understand right away being the kind gentleman he is, but the skipping beats of your heart proved you wrong in so many ways. 

What if he judged you? What if he thought this was taboo because he hadn’t experienced it many times before? What if he thought you were making up lies just like the others?

What you hadn’t expected was for him to bring you closer in, roping you to his arms where he allowed you to stay for the time being- to stay forever if you’d like. His comforting scent traveled through your nose with every breath you took, slowly but surely becoming engrossed by the only person you had only dearly loved your whole life. 

“I know that it’s really hard, baby, but I know you can do it like you’ve always had. Remember that whenever you’re going through these times, I’m right here for you, alright? And it’s not because I can benefit through it by giving you the best hugs ever or being your wonderful boyfriend many others are jealous of... it’s because I love you.” 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Soobin: ﹡﹡

He didn’t know. You never told him anything in your three month relationship in fear he would judge you for it. You thought it would be the best showing the best face you could effortlessly mask on even when the days grew hard. But now? You were so tired. You were so tired, and everything finally came down crashing on you when you least expected it. 

What a way to tell your boyfriend that you dealt with worries horribly. And what other way could that be? 

Through an anxiety attack. 

It could’ve been an ordinary day. It should’ve been an ordinary day! You weren’t going to think that something terrible would happen to a close relative that you couldn’t visit right away since the two of you were so far. One of your closest friends called to let you know while you were at home watching a film with Soobin, but it felt like the whole world fell onto your shoulders just like that.

It’d always been like this. They had health problems in their life and no matter what you did, you weren’t able to help them and it gradually built up in your mind. 

Disappointments piled on your heavy chest as you felt the ability to easily breathe become less and less. Several chills ran down the valley of your back and your throat was parched with no words to say, not even the words of goodbye to that friend of yours who was calling and shouting through the phone. Luckily, Soobin wasn’t there to see all of this and was currently in the bathroom to do his business. Otherwise he would’ve seen you like a mess, and you didn’t want any such thing to happen under any circumstances.

Today was different. You wanted so desperately for him not to see you like this; you should’ve been calm and collected like always in front of him. 

But what you didn’t know was that your boyfriend could see everything that was wrong with you. He could clearly see that you were in distress but trying not to let it get the best of you. Was it due to pride? He hadn’t ever seen you like this so it was surprising to him, but he needed to do the best he could as someone who loved you more than anything.

“Love, is everything alright? You seem to be...” He couldn’t find the word to describe it but his voice to you was just as calming as always even if you didn’t want him to figure out you didn’t do well with anxiety. 

“Everything is fine... everything is fine- no wait, Soobin, nothing is okay. I’m such a wreck. I just can’t relax tonight when something horrible is going on. I have never told you this but you should know that I struggle with anxiety.”

He didn’t understand, but that was okay. 

He allowed himself to sit down next to you, immediately protecting you in his arms as tears welled up in your eyes. You were shaking as if it was the last thing you were able to do and he himself internally panicked since he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if he should , opting to squeeze you tighter but not enough to deplete the rest of the air you were struggling to take in your lungs.

Placing his chin on the top of your head while you clung onto his shoulder, he whispered sweet words into your ear that he hoped would calm you down. Something along the lines of permitting yourself to cry through it or letting you know that he’d always be right there for you, but one you remembered so clearly was when he kissed your forehead, saying:

“I love you.”

It was the first time you heard him say those words. 

-༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺ -

﹡﹡ Beomgyu: ﹡﹡

Ultimately, Beomgyu knew you had troubles with anxiety although you never told him. Never once in your life did you recall telling him about this conflict since you weren’t sure how he’d take it but maybe you slipped up somehow. He said you didn’t and you couldn’t understand him in the first place. How did he realize that? Well according to him, he just knew. 

After being a couple for several months and almost a year, he tried to get to know everything about you. About how you’d fall asleep in his chest whenever you got the chance, but too shy to ask him randomly. How you’d gaze at him with pure eyes whenever he got out the guitar to sing to you whenever you pleased. Or how you’d look out into the window while having a date with him, becoming entranced with the stars while instead he became enamored with you. 

So when your breathing became labored or how you’d tremble whenever you were caught in an uncomfortable situation, he made a promise deep down in his heart that he’d protect you every single time. After all, that was what a great boyfriend was supposed to do, right? And every day he strove to get to that wonderful place as you reassured him. 

It was only until then when he brought you out of an awkward situation that you told him about your anxiety. You had just arrived home from dancing all night with him and he was going to go get some punch for you guys until he spot you in the corner of the room, face white with panic when a drunk man approached you. 

Instantly he found his feet shuffling away from the table, dropping the drinks in hand to run to you who was paralyzed in place, unsure of what to do. He yelled for your name, but you just weren’t able to hear him with all of that talking and blasting music which only served as a distraction he wanted to get out of the way.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself ever if a man like that touched you in a way you didn’t want. And he sure as hell wouldn’t like it at all if they violated you at any time they oh so desired.

Just in time when they were going to grab your arm, he cradled you in his arms, feeling you melt into his embrace because he was your safe place you could count on. Your throat was too parched that you weren’t able to choke out a soft thank you to him, but the look in your eyes when you looked at him told him everything.

The drunk person grunted at this and Beomgyu shot them a death stare. Considering that he was very much taller than them (but still tiny, he’s a bb what do you expect), they became intimidated and headed straight for the dance floor. Yes, Beomgyu didn’t want that person to do the same to anyone else, but as of right now you were his first priority he wasn’t ever going to let go of. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m right here, and I’ll always be right here. I’m your knight in shining armor, remember?”

The corners of his lips lifted up gently as he kissed you on the forehead, rubbing your back with his hands delicately while you held him tighter. If there was nothing else he wanted to do more in the world, it would definitely be swaying with you outside as the music blasting from the inside found its way to your ears. You were simply precious to him and he wasn’t going to waste time being your boyfriend because he’d want to marry the love of his life instead. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Taehyun: ﹡﹡

“I can’t do it... I just can’t.” You stared at the project beneath your hands, gazing into the abyss where no progress was getting done. This was all your fault, your stress was building up due to the amount of assignments your teachers kept giving you every single damn day, but now this stupid project that had been there for a month, waiting for you to get to it like you always thought you would. Now it was the night before it was due. It obviously wasn’t going to get done by itself and you knew that for a fact, but you just needed a break.

And these things too... 

What if you didn’t get it done in time? What if everyone finds your project to be a dumb waste of money? How were you going to present when it was only half finished and worked on just the date before it was due?

Presenting was one thing too; you didn’t work well with them under such pressure of easily being judged. You were so tired but it’s on you for not working on it earlier. However, how could you with all the homework you were getting?! Now the teachers would be disappointed in you, and not to mention you yourself as well since you knew you could’ve done much better. 

The clock hand reached 12am and Taehyun wondered what you were doing up so late on a school day. Normally you’d take care of your health but he wasn’t sure why you’d do something like this when it was important to get some shut eye. He opened the door to your room, holding a cup of water just to see you holding your head in your hands in distress. The anxious and shaky raise of your chest every time you took a breath in wasn’t something he ever experienced before, but he knew right away what was wrong.

But what was he supposed to say in order to make you calm down? He wanted to help you so much, however he didn’t know what to do at all. He was supposed to be smart! He was supposed to help you with anything you ever needed! But here he was, standing in the doorway like a fool as he watched you sweat 

“I don’t do well with anxiety, Tyun. I never have and now it’s my fault that I’m acting like this.” Even speaking was hard to do because of your dry Sahara Desert mouth.

It was like he figured out, and in the end like he predicted- he was right. 

Without a lingering moment he draped his arms on your shoulders, holding you gently as his chin slowly buried into the nap of your neck. A light tune he hummed soon turned into singing which surely made you calm down under a few minutes, but he didn’t allow himself to pull away from your quivering body. You didn’t know that he was going to stay up with you as well and be there once you finished it. Truly he believed that you would pull through; you always did under situations like this, and he couldn’t be more proud of you than he was now.

His voice was pleasant, soft to your ears as he sang “Over and Over Again.” You could feel yourself being lulled to sleep like you deserved but the giggles in your ears made you jolt up in surprise. Every sign of being nervous disappeared under in instance thanks to him and you looked back to see him grin at you with shining stars in his eyes. 

“You can do it, Y/N. I believe in you so you too should believe in yourself,” he murmured under his breath, unsure if you had heard him. You had, and it was the very least to say you were thankful the universe gave you such a beautiful present like Taehyun in your life. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

﹡﹡ Kai: ﹡﹡

Ice cream dates were the best with Kai! Especially on hot days like these where you could hang out on the porch together with him, talking about anything that crossed your minds. It was the best Saturday you’ve ever had in your whole entire life, the melting ice cream cones dripping down a colorful streak onto your arms, but none of you paid any attention to it. 

His giggle was simply the cutest thing to hear and wow, did that give you a whole rush of serotonin. He was telling you about how Yeonjun abused his plushies during an m/v and how he got revenge by saying Yeonjun’s hair could be a bird nest from how dead and crispy it was. After dying it that is. And he was being honest though, wasn’t he?! Was he wrong?! Countless snorts from laughing and snickers earned the two of you weird yet not surprised glances from Soobin who was opening the blinds every few minutes just to check up on the two of you from time to time. 

It was during times like these where you wondered how you’d cope if he left you. Especially during cheerful times when you laughed with him because you weren’t sure if it was going to be the last time. With his smiles however, he told you much differently. That sugary sweet smile he shot at you whenever you were worried with something was one thing you never wanted to lose. And yet, they’d assure you every time that he would never ever lose the brightness in his life. 

You figured this was the perfect time to finally tell him after such a long time of keeping it in the dark. A year of a beautiful relationship shouldn’t have much secrets when it came to things like these. You were just hoping at this point that Kai would still love you and realize your worth even with problems like this. 

“Do you remember when I was stressing over that one presentation and how I’d shake terribly?”

It got quiet all of a sudden and you stole a glance at him to see him gazing at you with his head tilted to the right side. His reaction made you feel nervous and your hands trembled, but you had to remain calm. Kai wouldn’t do anything to set you off, now wouldn’t he? He’s a sweetheart, there’s no way he would hurt you like he promised when he asked you to be his. 

“Oh yes, I clearly remember. I don’t know what happened, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up with you. I didn’t want to be insensitive with you so I never brought it up so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable.”

At that very moment, you knew the pure boy deserved the world more than anyone else. Well, more than the world in your opinion, but he was so sweet just like the ice cream you ate a few minutes before!

“Well, that’s the thing. I’ve never told you this, but I struggle with anxiety. I’m really thankful that you calmed me down that time, otherwise I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you.” The last words from your voice gradually became tiny, gliding along with the summer breeze that flowed past the two of you. 

Great, now everything was awkward. 

A couple minutes of silence passed by. The corners of his lips were turned into a huge smile from side to side, and you were extremely confused at this reaction. You weren’t sure what he was thinking but hopefully he wouldn’t judge you or anything like that. Your brain was in the wrong for thinking he would leave you for this, but it was a habit that formed whenever life happened. 

“Bubs, hold my Molang! You can have this one, it’s my favorite one so I hope they’ll be able to calm you down for now.” He pushed the plushy in your hands and you couldn’t help the grin that finally found your face. What was he supposed to say anyway? 

“But in all serious though,” he noted, dabbing your nose with a spot of his favorite ice cream flavor, “I’m so glad you trusted me because you know I’ll always be right here for my favorite penguin~”

---

Posted: 2/28/21- 10:30pm

Tags: 

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair

I reached that 500 followers everyone! So in celebration of all the people who I love dearly, this is the first part of my 10 things I hate about you series that I’m doing. 

Heads up that the next part might take a while to post, especially since I’ve been posting the work I get each week, y’all see the amount of stuff I have to do. Part two is already started, but it’s just gonna be a minute before it’s ready.

I hope you guys like it, and thank you again for 500 followers 💛💛💛

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

________________________

“How long are we going to keep dancing around the fact that you and I are meant for each other?” 

“How long is it going to take you to understand that I hate so much about you?”

-------------

“Alright, chica, are we meeting the guys there, or are we stopping by their place? What’s the plan for tonight?” Evelina asks, sitting down on the couch next to you.

“Last I heard, we were meeting them at their place but if you don’t get ready fast enough, we have to meet them there,” you tell her, lifting her off the couch before she can get too comfortable and make you late.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, your other best friend texting you a stupid meme that he found online, followed by a sexual innuendo that was normal for your friendship. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how he talked to you, a stupid smile covering your face as you drag Evelina to her room in the hopes that she’ll get ready in a timely manner.

“Is that your man?” she asks, sitting down in front of her mirror, hopefully, to start her makeup. 

“He’s not my man,” you protest, not tearing your eyes off your phone, responding to him with an equally snarky and somewhat crude response.

“You’re sexting him as we speak. I can tell, you have that stupid grin on your face that you only get when it’s him replying to you,” she fires back, starting on her makeup. God you hoped she wouldn’t put much on tonight; you were supposed to be meeting the guys in half an hour at one of their houses. 

Her comment, however, makes you look up from your phone. “I don’t think you know what sexting is. I am fully clothed. This is not sexting.”

“I will look up the definition of sexting and make us late. But, are you really wearing that tonight?” she asks you, making eye contact with you through her mirror just in time for her to see you roll your eyes. “Take something from my closet; if you’re going to see him tonight then you need to be wearing something better. You get up from her bed in a huff, going to her closet to try to find something there that was remotely your style. Evelina’s clothes were great, they just weren’t things that you would wear. “And you don’t need clothing off just to consider it sexting.”

“He’s literally just my other best friend. Maybe you’re jealous that I’m closer to him than I am to you!” you yell to her from her closet. “And hurry up with the makeup or I’m picking out your outfit.” 

“That’s mean,” she says, a slight dig on your sense of style, or lack thereof. “I just need my eye makeup, calm down.” She leaves you in silence to rummage through her wardrobe. You hope that her non-follow up meant that she had dropped the conversation topic about your admittedly weird relationship with him. 

She eventually meets you in her closet, pulling out the perfect outfit for herself in a matter of seconds while you struggle to find something. There was a reason why you were wearing the jeans and sweater you already had on; you didn’t like anything else at this point. “What about this?” she asks, handing you a crop top and a flannel to go over it. You give her an unsure look, not really wanting to change at it was. “Come on!” she begs, “This is so much sexier than what you have on now.”

“Why do I need to be sexy?” you argue, taking the clothes from her and changing into them anyway. 

She rolls her eyes, knowing that the two of you have the same conversation nearly every week. “You literally sext him constantly,” she repeats in a sing-songy voice. 

“It’s not sexting!” you say at the same time, her mimicking you with a slightly higher pitched voice than the one you already make. “You clearly like him. You never come home with me when we go out with them.”

“Maybe that’s because I go home with someone else.” 

She laughs, calling your bluff, “You go home with the same curly-haired boy every single week. Admit it: you’re in love with Matthew and he’s in love with you.” 

“We’re. Just. Friends,” you argue again, going out to see how the outfit looks on you. “Are you sure this looks alright?” As much as you hated the idea of the crop top, revealing as much skin as you did, she was right that it looked better on you than the sweater.

“Something’s missing,” she says, standing behind you. “And you literally send me a Snapchat from his bed every weekend. He’s never wearing a shirt in those snaps, I might add.”

She leaves you to stare at yourself in the mirror. She could not be more wrong about your feelings for him: he was your best friend, that was it. “He just sleeps without a shirt, the same way you don’t wear pants when you sleep. That’s right, I know you put those shorts on when you wake up.”

“We’re roommates. You know everything about me. That’s not a weird thing to know,” she says. “Why are you so stubborn to admit that you like him?”

“I hate way more about him than I like,” you try to counter. The same argument every week meant that you were running out of original ideas about how to tell her the same thing.

She comes out of her closet, holding a pair of black wedge booties, shoving them in your hands. “Name one thing you hate about him.”

“I hate the way he wears his hair. He’s got amazing curls and yet he lets them hang over that weird side shave of his? Either have it shaved like he did when he was drafted, or go full curls. Pick one.”

She rolls her eyes, getting her own shoes on as your phone buzzes on her bed. “That’s weak. He’s also texted you five times in the last ten minutes.”

“Probably because he’s wondering why we’re running late, even though he knows you’re never on time for anything.” She tosses you your phone. You see the messages asking you where you are, telling you to just meet them there because the guys got too antsy waiting for the two of you to be on time for once. “That’s something I hate about you: you’re always late,” you tell her, hoping that she would drop the subject.

“Join the club. So does my mom.” She gets up, pulling you up with her and admiring the two of you in the mirror before turning to face you. “If you can think of ten things that you hate about Matthew Tkachuk, ten legitimate things that overpower your ability to love him, then I will drop the subject of you and him dating entirely until you bring it up yourself.”

You look at her, trying to figure out if she were serious or not. You loved Evelina more than anyone, definitely more than you loved Matthew, who you didn’t love at all. But her biggest fault was her constant need to gossip. “Does the hair thing count? And how long do I have to come up with the list?”

“Fine. And I’ll give you a month, starting now. In one month, if you don’t have nine more reasons for hating him, then you’re going to hear about how you and him should be together until you get married. If not, then you have to ask him out on a date.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to have to ask him out if you can’t give her the ten satisfactory reasons. But, come on, you could think of so many things you hated about him, just none are coming to mind. “Deal,” you decide, grabbing her hand to lead her out the door.

“You will get married to him, though. I’ll be maid of honor obviously.”

“Keep this up and you won’t even be invited, and neither will Matthew because I won’t be marrying him.”

“We both know that you’re going home with him tonight,” she says, referencing the point she made earlier.

You couldn’t go home with Matthew tonight, and you knew it. If you didn’t have someone else to go home with, then you would have to, though. Or you could just go to your actual home. Pulling up your messages, you type out a message to Matthew: ‘Unless we can both find someone we’re interested in, then we go home with each other alright?’

‘So, both of us go home with someone or we go home with each other?’

‘Yeah, sound good?’ You didn’t care if he wanted that or not. You had to convince Evelina that you weren’t interested in Matthew, first with the list, second with going home with someone else. 

‘Just come home with me, like you always do. We can do something different tonight if you’re interested?’ he replies, earning an eye roll from you. 

‘Like what?’

‘We obviously both know what we want from each other’

‘Haha, no.’

‘Sad but fine :(’ he sends. Staring at his phone, the three dots appearing and disappearing as you try to find the words to say to him, he wanted nothing more than to be the one who took you home tonight. 

You and Evelina get to the bar, not really wanting to see the boys. As soon as Matthew saw you, you knew he would have his hands all over you, but that was it. He would never try to kiss you or anything, even if he wanted to. Even if you were oblivious to the fact that he wanted to.

The entire thing was just confusing. You loved the relationship you had with him, but you knew it was never going to go anywhere. You didn’t want it to. You just had to find someone else to go home with tonight. Ideally, you would fall in love with them and never have to think about Matthew as more than your friend for the rest of your life. 

Scanning the bar, you couldn’t see anyone that remotely interested you, other than the usual suspects. The boys had led you to a bar that you’ve frequented enough times that the bartenders knew your drink order on sight. It also meant that you’ve seen the patrons of the bar enough times to know that unless someone new walked through that entrance door tonight, you were going home with Matthew. Unless you could convince one of his teammates to go home with. Maybe you could go home with Elias? Or Noah, worst case. 

The same group of friends that was there every weekend was sitting in the front corner, a group of college students who were probably underage sitting in the back, some wine moms probably talking about how horrible their husbands are for buying the wrong brand of designer purse for their birthday presents were sitting in the front. The guys and now Evelina for that matter were nowhere to be seen, meaning they were in the back room, probably hoarding the pool table, like they did every time you guys came here. Not seeing the guys also meant not seeing Matthew. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t see you. As soon as Evelina bounced into the room, his mind was occupied with the thought of finding you. Then when she told him that you were dressed in some of her clothing? He could feel himself going crazy trying to picture what you were wearing, knowing some of the outfits he had seen your roommate in. All he had to do was convince you not to go home with another guy. That was going to be easy, right? He stands by the bar, out of your line of site, just to admire how you looked. Evelina knew damn well what she was doing when she picked that outfit for you. She had to know seeing you in that would drive Matthew crazy like it was. 

You nearly forgot about him, thinking only of your options of who you could go home with when you felt him come up behind you, your entire body tensing up as his hands snaked their way around your waist, pulling you close to him. Your breath stopped when his thumb hooked onto the belt loop of your jeans. He leaned in, his hot breath sending a chill down your spine, letting out a whisper, “Just come home with me tonight. I’m gonna make you cum so hard.”

You exhale, rolling your eyes, running your tongue over your teeth. You knew he would say something like that to you; it was the exact type of statement that you would text each other constantly. He couldn’t see the smirk on your face that you know would drive him crazy. “What, to my senses?” you whisper back. His hands drop long enough for you to turn around to face him, draping your arms on his shoulders just for him to pull you back in to him, leaving no space to escape with your back pressed to the bar counter. “Don’t be crude. You know our deal, Matthew. We just made it, you can’t be that forgetful.”

“And who do you see here that you would be remotely interested in besides me?” he teases. “The guy macking on a girl on the other end of the bar, or the college kids who may or may not be legal?”

“The night is young, Rat Man,” you call him the nickname you knew he despised, ruffling your hands in his hair, tangling your fingers in the curls. “Maybe instead of looking at me, try going for those girls that just came in already can’t seem to keep their eyes off you.” You motion to the table of girls sending you daggers just over Matthew’s shoulders. 

“Why would I do that when I have you already right in my arms?”

You lean in, running your hands down his body. You could feel his heart racing at your touch, knowing you were driving him crazy with every word you uttered, “Because we both know that’s not something we do,” you tease him, getting an idea as the guys filter into the main bar area. “Worst-case scenario, I’ll go home with Elias.” 

He pulls away from you, trying to hide the pain he was feeling from coming through on his face. “Why would you do that?” 

“Have you seen Lindy? You know I’ve always had a crush on him, why not act on that?”

“Because I would hate that?” he questions. You had to know he would hate that. There’s no way you could be so oblivious to the fact that his ‘jokingly sexual texts’ weren’t joking for the most part, right? 

“Maybe that’s why I do it,” you tease. Nope, you were oblivious. Even though Evelina had told you earlier, you thought she was lying. “So, where is he?”

Matthew bites his lip, debating on telling you where his teammate was or not. He couldn’t let you go home with Elias, but you know he’s single. He could just tell you that he didn’t come tonight, but then what happens when you spot him. What if he just said Lindy had started seeing someone recently? “I don’t know,” is all he can tell you. He can’t lie to you. Not if this was something that had the potential to make you happy. 

“Then I’m gonna go find him,” you say, kissing him on the cheek and weaseling your way out from his grip. You were determined not to go home with him tonight. Evelina was wrong about the two of you being in love, and this was the first step in proving it. Actually, the second, the list was the first step. You just needed nine more things.

“What the hell was that?” Matthew hears a voice snap him out of the trance you sent him into while he watched you walk away to find his teammate. He looks next to him, Evelina sitting there. He could not read the girl to save his life: was she mad? Was she actually confused? The girl only showed emotion with her voice. Either that or Matthew was just oblivious when it came to reading her.

“What are you talking about?” he pretends not to know, signaling to the bartender to get him another drink. If he had to watch you go home with his friend, he might as well be able to forget about it come morning. 

She rolls her eyes at him. “I just had this conversation with her. How are you both so dumb?” she says off to the side before sighing and looking at Matthew, “You clearly both love each other.” 

Matthew looks at her, the panic written all over his face. “Wh-what?” he stammers out. No one knew he’s liked you for a while now. At least, he hadn’t told anyone. Was he that obvious? Of course he was obvious, he blatantly flirted with you all the time. “We are not in love with each other.”

“Oh, stop lying, everyone but Y/N knows that’s not true. You two will be going out on a date by the end of the month,” she says, staring down at her drink. The confidence in her voice was baffling, considering Matthew didn’t even think he could ever convince you to actually date him. How did Evelina do it? 

“You’re one of the first people to tell me that I’m an idiot so I really need you to give me more explanation. We both know I can never figure out what you’re saying to me.”

She sighs, taking a long sip of her drink. “I made a bet with her: if she can come up with ten things that she hates about you by the end of the month, then I’ll stop talking about you two for the rest of your lives. If not, then y’all are going on a date.”

Matthew could feel himself starting to panic. “Only ten things? Are you joking? There are at least five guys in the NHL who could think of fifty. My own teammates probably have thousands. My dad probably hates more things about me than he likes!” he starts to spit out. This was not going to end well, and he knew it.

“Oh, come on,” she says, rolling her eyes yet again. “If she really didn’t like you, then she would have come up with something better than the way you shave the side of your head like that.” 

He subconsciously lifts his hand to run it along the shaved sides she was talking about. “That’s all she could think of?”

“That’s it. I know Y/N better than anyone: she’s going to try to think of ten things and she’s not going to come up with them and she’s finally going to realize that she loves you.”

“This is either going to be great or awful.”

“Which one do you want it to be?”

“Great, obviously, but how are you sure it’ll end up with the two of us together?”

She looks at him and just smiles. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying not to laugh at how dumb he was or because she was genuinely happy or hopeful. “She’s going to figure out that you like because and love despite. It’s a saying for a reason.” 

Before he can say anything, the two of them are interrupted by the sound of you and the rest of the boys roaring with laughter. They both find the group through the crowd to see them all huddled around Elias going on a rant about something. Evelina drags Matthew over, plopping him down next to you, leaving you sandwiched between him and Elias.

“What’s going on?” Evelina asks once he finishes his rant.

“We’re playing ‘don’t get me started,’” you explain, subconsciously settling into Matthew as he drapes his arm behind you. “Elias was just talking about the idea of a ‘puck bunny.’” Evelina raises her eyebrow, egging you on to continue, “He thinks the concept is dumb and that women should be allowed to like the sport without being accused of wanting sex and all that jazz. We love a feminist,” you coo, playfully nudging Elias as he smiles. Matthew could feel himself going crazy at the site of it, putting his arm around you as if to mark you as his. 

Evelina raises her glass, “Thank god, you’re a good man, Lindy,” toasting to him before setting her glass down. “Who’s next?” 

“I guess it’s me?” you say. “Someone give me a topic.”

“Gifted Education Program in US education,” Evelina says, already knowing your feelings about it. The alcohol in your system was only going to make the rant better. 

“Don’t get me started about the Gifted Education Program,” you start, already feeling yourself get heated even though there was a smile on your face, playing perfectly into the game that you and the guys had started to play. “It had to be one of the worst things, if not the worst thing that has ever happened to me. And all because of a fucking standardized test that I took when I was seven years old. What the hell kind of school system tells a child they’re ‘gifted’ because of a stupid test that they don’t care about? I mean, if Matthew here went to school with me and took the same test,” you start, looking over at him, feeling the heat rush to your face as you prepared for his reaction to what you were about to say, “He could have guessed on the entire test and been labelled as ‘gifted.’ Does he seem like someone who would be ‘gifted’ academically?”

The guys laughed around you as the two of you just stared at each other. Part of him hated how easily you were able to chirp him, knowing that he could never find it in him to chirp back. 

“I mean, what the hell does the gifted program even do? It pulled me out of class and made me miss instruction time which I then had to teach myself what I missed. And for what? To be a defense lawyer for the Big Bad Wolf from the Three Little Pigs? I didn’t even get to plan what I said by myself: I was given a script and had to memorize it. How is that gifted education? What does that promote? When we read The Indian in the Cupboard? When we did math problems that we were told high schoolers had issues solving? Or, how about the way we wrote a newspaper every single week but since we only worked on it for thirty minutes, we never published a single issue. I don’t even know what my section of the paper was.”

You keep going on about the gifted program, the guys laughing more and more. Matthew couldn’t focus on what you were saying, he was too busy focused on your hand, which you didn’t even realize kept grazing his thigh, driving him crazy, just like everything else you did. He pulls out his phone, searching for Evelina’s contact. 

‘Are you sure this list is going to work in my favor?’

She snaps out of listening to your rant, trying to catch her breath as she looked at her phone. Looking between you and Matthew, she smiles at him, the first look he was able to properly read: it will.

[fullmetalscullyy]

royai week day 1 - king’s gambit/queen’s gambit

summary: It was a sacrifice. That was the true nature of this mission. Sending in a pawn to do the dirty work, so he could get the upper hand on the situation from the comfort of his office.

rating: t | words: 3075 | tags: royai, hurt/comfort, undercover missions, concerned team mustang, while riza goes off on her own to be a badass

read on ao3 | read on ffnet

Havoc’s displeasure towards the idea is not vocal, but it is very clearly identifiable in the set of his jaw and the way his arms are crossed over his chest in quiet defiance. Roy doesn’t appreciate the narrowed eyes Havoc thinks he can’t see, but he is inclined to agree with his Second Lieutenant. More than agree, actually. Roy sides with him and his protest, but ultimately it’s not his choice. It’s a gambit she won’t give up, not now that the Lieutenant has set her sights upon it. And not when it can help so many people in the long run.

Perhaps the worst part is it has to be on Roy’s orders for it to work. It’s a good idea, a strategic and tactical one, but it’s on his head if anything goes wrong and also puts one of his subordinates behind enemy lines alone. It’s dangerous. It’s a risk so they can try to gain more control over the situation, and potentially put an end to more suffering. He would never have thought of it alone, but she had. The Lieutenant always had been the best out of the two them at making the tougher decisions. Ones that needed a more clinical view and less emotional attachment to get the job done. Without realising it, Roy could lead with his heart when someone dear to him was involved, but that had no place here. Not at work and not with so much at stake.

Roy hates it, but that’s personal, and is also an avenue he cannot afford to venture down. Not only that, but Lieutenant Hawkeye is a more than capable soldier, and is an adult who can make her own decisions. Professionally, he has to agree with her. It’s a good idea. 

“Are we really going to feed one of our own to the wolves?”

Havoc’s question is quiet. It breaks through the silence they’d fallen into as they studied the map of a compound, a place that was the heart of their assignment. It causes Roy’s stomach to roll into a knot and he sighs quietly to himself. He had started to wonder when Havoc would start to voice his distaste. It was only a matter of time, Roy had theorised.

“That doesn’t sit well with me, Colonel –”

“Lieutenant,” Roy interrupts, starting to grow irritated Havoc would think Roy has assigned the Lieutenant this task heartlessly.

His heart is completely invested in this. More than it should be. 

“It’s a gamble, but based on what? There should be back up going in from the start.” His voice is rising in volume, careening away from the quiet, contemplative silence they’d been in only moments ago.

The office door opens, and the subject of their argument enters the room. She’s heard Havoc’s complaints; Roy knows she has. He can see it in the expression on her face and the way her brow twitches and furrows at them both a fraction, before turning to close the door behind her.

Havoc’s breathing slows as his emotions abate. It’s obvious he didn’t expect her to interrupt or overhear their conversation.

“It’s my choice, Lieutenant Havoc.” Her voice is even and level, but there is a hint of something else to it as well. There’s a tinge of frustration, and rightly so. That’s more than fair. She’s not happy and Roy swallows when he realises it, afraid she’s going to take their nervousness towards the situation the wrong way.

There was never any doubt in her abilities from either of them. This reflex comes from elsewhere. It was concern for a very close friend; Roy knew of the history between Hawkeye and Havoc. They went back to the Academy and had always been close to one another. For him, it stemmed from emotions he should not name. A natural response to those emotions, but Roy also knows he shouldn’t voice or even think of them, for they are dangerous. They could be damning. But damn him, Roy can’t help it. He’d never forgive himself if the worst happened to her because of his orders. He’s already, either directly or indirectly – that was still up for debate between them even after all this time – caused her so much grief and hardship in her life. He refuses to add to any more of it. This mission has the potential to do so, and he is concerned as a friend, as well as something more.

“Hawkeye –” Havoc’s attempt to placate her doesn’t work.

“This will work,” she adds, “and I’m not giving up on it. It’s a simple in and out.”

“It may take months though,” he counters. “All that time with no backup. Can you blame me, us,” he gestures between him and Roy, and the latter wishes Havoc would keep him out of his argument, “for not liking it?”

“It’s not up to you.” Her brows draw together into an offended glare.

Havoc huffs because he knows she’s right. He just cares, like they all do.

Only, Havoc can be more vocal about it though.

Roy says nothing and simply observes. A part of him wishes to leave them to their dispute but he’s their commanding officer. He can’t back down from conflict between two of his officers. He has to resolve this.

“Lieutenant Havoc.” Roy turns his head to face him. He needs to regain control on this conversation, so his tone is even and professional when he speaks. “As Lieutenant Hawkeye has stated, this is her choice. She’s happy to go.”

Havoc says nothing. His lips purse as he looks at his old friend.

Roy turns his gaze towards the Lieutenant. “She’s willing to enter the compound herself so we can advance in our fight against this group.”

He meets her eyes head on, ensuring the contact between them is direct. He wants to convey everything he needs to with one look or speech alone, but the Lieutenant is not a mind reader, and this is a professional environment. So, he will try his best with the limited methods he’s been given. And if the opportunity to discuss his concerns privately arises in the future, Roy will grasp it with both hands and communicate with her as effectively as he can, to reassure her and voice his thoughts.

“I am just as concerned for the Lieutenant’s safety as the rest of the team,” he adds tactfully. “I don’t like the idea of any one of you being sent off to fight a battle yourselves without backup from the team. It’s happened once before.”

Roy pauses and that knot in his stomach tightens as he remembers Fuery being sent to the front in the South prior to the Promised Day. He remembers how they were divided, split up and left to fend for themselves after being such a tight knit group for so long.

Havoc’s shoulders fall and relax as he catches onto Roy’s meaning.

“However,” Roy continues, “if the Lieutenant has no issues with going, we should respect that.”

“I know,” Havoc relents. “I will.” Still, he looks unhappy, but the argument is dropped.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take to help those in need,” the Lieutenant states, “but it’s a controlled risk.” Her tone softens as she joins them and leans over the map, looking down at it. “I appreciate the concern, but this decision was not made on a whim.”

“I know,” Havoc repeats. The fight is gone from him, as well as his displeasure, but his concern is still there. “I know you would’ve thought it through first,” he adds to try and placate her.

“It will work,” she assures. Determination overtakes her expression as her eyes rove over the map and Roy can’t help but wonder what her thoughts are, and what plan she is conjuring up inside her mind.

Her reply leaves no room for argument, effectively ending their conversation.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

His steps need to be controlled as he walks towards the compound, and they are, but he wishes he could do the opposite. Critically he surveys the faces of the people being escorted out. There’s none that spark recognition. People are crying with joy, happy to have been liberated. Others have minor injuries and are being seen to by medical personnel.

The news reached them less than an hour ago of the Lieutenant’s success, but there was no word from her personally yet.

He needs to know… Roy didn’t know what. He needs to hear her voice, at least, over the radio. However that had never come to pass. He needs to see her with his own eyes to ascertain her safety and wellbeing. But instead, he was left searching through the faces of the survivors to no avail.

She walks out from behind the compound gates and Roy feels his breath catch in his throat with relief. The Lieutenant is upright and walking and initially, that’s enough for Roy. His exhale through his nose is long, but quiet, so those rushing around him do not hear. They are hurrying passed the Lieutenant, searching for others in need after she reassures them with a polite smile she’s okay.

Roy is unaware of them though. He shouldn’t be, but he is, because all his focus is taken up by her. The smile he manages to catch a short glimpse of releases all the tension from his muscles.

Then he notices the blood on her beige polo shirt. It looks dark, so it looks old, but Roy can’t be sure due to the colouring of the fabric. He’d rather not see it at all. There’s a tear in the fabric of the shirt as well, right in the centre, where something has penetrated and pierced her skin. The sight makes his skin flash with heat and his heart pounds with contained fury. As the Lieutenant walks closer Roy sees the scratches on her face. They’re superficial, so not too worrying, however they are still there when they shouldn’t be.

She greets him with a nod after all this time. Her steps are purposeful and confident. Determined, even. The Lieutenant doesn’t falter as she approaches.

“We got them, sir.”

The next thing Roy notes is her voice is strong. It doesn’t waver as she speaks despite the apparent injuries.

“And you?” It’s the first question out of his mouth but it’s not completely out of place. Any commanding officer would be concerned for their subordinate after such a long time of radio silence.

“Fine, sir,” she confirms. “My injuries are a result of a scuffle during the final conflict. Nothing to worry about.”

From the look if it, Roy doubts that claim, but holds his tongue.

“The plan succeeded.”

She doesn’t boast. It’s not an ‘I told you so’. It’s simple fact.

The Lieutenant knows he’d never doubt her abilities or capability to get the job done, and he’s told her that already to reassure his and Havoc’s worry comes from a well-meaning place, but she knows he gets more concerned than he should. More than is appropriate. Roy can’t help it. For personal reasons, he can’t – outside of any feelings for her as well. He cares for each and every one of his subordinates. He hates to sacrifice one to fight a battle alone, and to leave a comrade behind, but knows doing it temporarily can sometimes be practical or necessary in order to win a greater war.

Ultimately, the Lieutenant was right. Thankfully, the outcome is mostly positive.

Professionally, he’s grateful the plan succeeded. She has an eye for precision that he doesn’t, so her input was more than welcome for this mission. And it stopped more innocent people from coming to further harm. Personally, he wants to wrap her in a tight hug and not let her go. To dress her wounds and ensure she’s okay. It’s been a month of no contact, of not knowing how she was faring while undercover.

She came back to them though. He remembers that.

“Well done, Lieutenant.”

Before he can praise her further a medic rushes up. She extends a blanket out to the Lieutenant, who stares at it blankly. But Roy sees an opportunity and steps in. He thanks the medic and takes it, unfurling the material as the medic presses forward to assist those who may need medical attention within the compound.

“Here.” His murmur is gentle as he wraps the blanket around her shoulders.

“Sir –”

She’s gearing up to argue but Roy is having none of it. That blood stain doesn’t seem to be growing in size, but he won’t take any chances. Not anymore today where she’s concerned.

“That injury needs looked at Lieutenant,” Roy interjects.

“It’s fine –”

“Not the point.” He hates to interrupt her. His voice turns husky with emotion. Roy would say he’s surprised by the sudden turn, but in all honesty it makes sense.

It’s been a long month.

For that reason, he doesn’t relent on his grip of her shoulders. He steers her over to a free medic and remains close by as she’s treated. One arm crosses over his chest to clutch at his side while the other hand cups his chin in thought as the medic works. He questions her on everything that happened. It’s necessary and a conversation that is needed for the upcoming report he will need to write and sign off on. While he would like her to rest, he knows the Lieutenant is still willing to work. He can see her professionalism in the set of her shoulders even as the medic pulls away her ruined shirt.

In truth, he doesn’t want to leave her side.

It’s been a long month.

Roy knows he shouldn’t look at the injury, but he can’t help himself. It gets a quick glance, and that flash of heat is back, igniting on his chest and spreading right up to the crown of his head, and down to his calves. He grips his chin tighter with his fingers in order to control the sudden bout of outrage and anger towards whoever had injured her. The expression on his face remains neutral, but she catches him staring.

She’s far too perceptive.

He’s uncaring if she notices his reaction though. Besides, he’s sure Lieutenant Hawkeye understands. Roy is sure Riza would do the same thing if the situations were reversed. They’ve been paired together long enough for him to draw that conclusion with relative confidence.

It was a sacrifice. That was the true nature of this mission. Sending in a pawn to do the dirty work, so he could get the upper hand on the situation from the comfort of his office.

Riza Hawkeye was far from a pawn in Roy’s eyes though. In fact, far from it in everyone’s eyes. She was his queen, elevated so far above a simple pawn, and even him. She was the most important piece of the set and she’d sent herself in and gotten the job done efficiently and effectively. There was never any doubt in his mind, and he wants to express his admiration for her work, however now, standing before her, with both of them finally left alone as the medic finishes and disappears, Roy is simply glad she’s back. Everything else relating to the mission can wait.

“Are you okay?” His question is so quiet. He’s asking as more than a professional courtesy. He’s asking personally.

“Yes, sir.” Her expression softens and she nods. The Lieutenant tips her head back against the wall she was leaning against and Roy watches as the fatigue rolls over her like a wave. “My abdomen stings but it’s okay. It’s… Been a long month,” she adds carefully, but nothing sinister or worrying crosses her expression at the thought of her time here.

Roy smirks ruefully. “I had a similar thought.” He jerks his head to the side, towards his car. “Come on,” he beckons. “I’ll drive you home.”

She nods and straightens her spine, standing tall. “Do you want me to fill out a report first?”

He waves off her offer. “No. I want you to go home and rest. You will be debriefed tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.”

They’re silent until they enter the car. Once the doors are closed, it’s just the two of them and they’re free to talk about whatever they want. Roy has a lot he wants to discuss, but they didn’t have time. She is no doubt exhausted and probably just wants to go home and clean herself up.

“I’m glad you’re all right.”

Her lips purse as she stares down at her hands, folded on her lap. “You said you’d had a similar thought,” she states, then glances up at him. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get through to you all.”

Roy scoffs lightly. “Don’t be sorry.”

“You were worried, though.”

Slowly, Roy nods. “Of course, I was.” His reply is quiet as he speaks from his heart.

She nods and turns to stare at her hands again.

“Right now, I’m simply thankful you’re okay. I’m glad you’re back,” he smiles.

“I couldn’t leave you to do all the work without me, now could I?”

Her quip is most welcome, and it makes him laugh. The tension he’d held in his shoulders and jaw for the last month feels like it’s being melted away with the joy of the action alone.

“No, you couldn’t.” He turns on the ignition with a warmth settling over his heart. “Let’s get you home. You can get cleaned up while I make you something to eat, if you’d like?”

As he places his hand on the gearstick, a warmth covers his digits. Glancing over, he sees her hand – marred by an old cut and a few grazed knuckles – covering his.

“Thank you.” The Lieutenant’s head has turned and is inclined towards him. In the privacy of his car she offers him a small smile, but it has the brilliance to light up his whole world. “That would be much appreciated.”

Roy turns his hand over and loops his fingers gently around hers. It’s a tiny action – so much less than what he actually wants to do – but it’s something. It’s enough for now. It’s enough until they get into the privacy of her apartment.

“Of course, Lieutenant.” His smile is genuine, and he gives her fingers a final squeeze before letting go. “Always. You’re welcome.”

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 5

Chapter Summary:  Y/N’s training begins, but not before she discovers one of Obito’s secrets.

Words: 1.7k

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Please reblog or like if you enjoy, comments are always welcome <3

5:30 in the morning. It is the sixth time Y/N has woken up. This whole concussion thing has messed up her whole sleeping schedule, she tried her best to get some rest, but to no avail. She ended up sleeping for about fourteen or fifteen hours between small intervals, but she feels worse than before. 

Y/N drags herself out of bed, makes some coffee, and brushes her teeth, the whole deal. Having a constant roof above her head is nice, she has to admit that. Not having to worry about wild animals and the climate is cool, but the warmth of a bed is the best part of it. Tying her brand new bandana on her forehead, she leaves the small apartment and heads to the training grounds on the outskirts of the village.  

She makes her way through the village’s main market, trying to avoid stumbling onto the hundreds of busy people bustling around her. Watching people attend to their duties and following their routines has always been a hobby of hers, she always found interest in seeing people who can afford to do the same thing every day, have some sort of routine. Can she consider herself one of them now? No, maybe not. Ninjas are always doing different missions and whatnot; their routines are as fucked up as a merc’s. Maybe she can become a baker in another life, who knows? 

Around the corner, a hand blocking her way surprises her. At the end of it is a medium height man with his hair tucked into some sort of fabric, with bits of brown hair coming out of the sides. The man holds a toothpick between his lips, accompanied by a smug smile and an attitude that instantly annoys Y/N. 

“’Sup babygirl, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

“I’ve been busy for the last 26 years”

“Busy living in my dreams, I bet”

“Busy fucking you mom, actually”

The sleazy type is the worst in Y/N’s opinion. Nothing disgusts her more than someone who thinks they’re hot shit just because they’re attractive. She pushes him away and keeps on walking.  

“Ouch! Feisty, I like that. I’ll remember ya!” he states as he leaves the scene with a wink and a flick of his toothpick. 

This has to be a joke, what a douchebag.

Going back on her way and observing the people, she closes into a mass of messy short black hair. The man has his back turned to her, but by the jonin vest and height, she assumes it could be… no, wait… it could not be! This man is helping an old lady carry a shitload of groceries, he would never be nice enough to do that. 

Could it be him!?

From afar, she changes angle to try and catch a glimpse of his face. After much difficulty dodging busy locals, she is able to see clearly and… it’s Obito! Obito Uchiha helping a poor old lady carry her stuff, I wish I had a camera on me. She thinks of approaching him, but she decides against it in favor of watching from a distance to see where this goes. 

Turns out the frail woman lives on the other side of town. Obito sure enough has carried all that stuff through the worst climbs Y/N has ever seen on a city. But that was not all: he was being extra nice. He laughed at all her jokes and even smiled back at her. This is grade A entertainment. 

When they finally reach her destination, the old lady pulls out a lollypop and gives it to him. Y/N immediately loses her shit, almost falling from the ceiling she is in because of her fit of laughter. Before she can compose herself, she notices a presence behind her. She was discovered, but who cares? She has seen enough. Obito towers above her, trying to look intimidating, but failing to do so since he has a lollipop on his mouth. 

“First you invade my house, now you’re following me. Are you sure I’m the one who should be called a creep?”

“Well, you’re right. Maybe I’ll start calling you… Granny Simp Uchiha©, how about that?”  

“I hate you”

“Ow, I’m so hurt, oh my god, how could you? But seriously, I didn’t mean to intrude, but when I saw that… I needed to see more to believe it” She states as she breaks into another fit of laughter

“Let’s go, we’re late for training”

“Have you ever been on time a day of your life, though?”

“Never, I’ll probably be late for my own funeral”

“Fair enough. Wait, did you just make a joke that’s not on my expense?”

“Oh no, your dumbassery is influencing me!” He raises his gloved hands ironically

“Shut up”

 ~”~

 They both reach the training grounds at around 7:30, late but not a whole lot, thanks to Obito’s kamui. Obito will have to make some slight modifications on the mission report to avoid Minato’s wrath. After a quick warmup, Obito goes straight to the point: 

“How much do you even know about jutsu?”

“Well… I can do that chakra punch, maybe walk on water and trees or release genjutsu, but that’s all.”

“Not even a clone or some substitution jutsu?”

“Nope”

“So you’re basically an academy student with enough brute force to take down S rank criminals… That’s… odd”

Y/N scratches the back of her head, clearly embarrassed by her lack of training. Obito did not expect to have to teach such basic things. I mean, if he wanted to teach people stuff he would have signed up for a job at the academy. He still cannot believe Minato sensei is putting him up to this babysitting job. 

He needs to do well on this mission if he wants to get back onto the Hokage’s good side and guarantee his position as the next one. This is his second day with Y/N and things have been insane and… fun? No, he should not be thinking like that. Perhaps he should also go talk with Kushina and ask her to convince sensei to let him go from this one; he was always her favorite after all.

“Granny simp? You ok? Did I disappoint you that much?”

Obito fixes his bandana’s position over his left eye, trying to get himself out of his head. He is here now, so he had better get to work. If he can control himself enough not to put her under a nasty genjutsu for calling him that again, that is. 

“Call me that again and I’ll tell everyone that you saw me naked”

“You were not naked, dickhead. And what’s wrong with that?”

“Uhm…?”

“…?”

“Anyway… we’ll start with some cloning jutsu. Have you ever done any seals?”

“Only one or two”

“Try to copy what I’m doing”

“Hey! Stop doing it so fast!”

She honestly seems to be giving her best, but her hand signs are not quite right and the chakra distribution on her network must be all wrong, judging by her failure in producing something that seems to be remotely human. This takes Obito’s memory back to his old academy days, back when he could not do a single clone properly. He would spend whole nights awake training to achieve something passable. Rin helped him a lot back then. The only thing he has ever taught someone was that sexy jutsu to Naruto. To say Kushina was mad was an understatement. 

“Concentrate your chakra all along your body, not only on your hands”

“Hum… right, can I get a lollipop after this?”

Four hours later and Y/N has finally mastered two basic jutsu: substitution and cloning. She almost passed out several times due to exhaustion, but thanks to some food pills, she is enduring todays training much better. 

Obito has been analyzing her every movement with his sharingan. Looking closely her techniques lack grace, truly a sign of someone who learned everything they know by experience. He needs to fix that too. 

Her endurance is also remarkably low. If she were to fight right now, she could do maybe two or three jutsu before passing out, making her rely solely onto her speed and blade habilities. The girl is more of a samurai than a ninja at this point. Examining her file earlier, he noticed that her chakra reserves are not that low as she has stated before, according to the medical department she has an average quantity of it. She just lacks the ability to use it properly.  

Some very hard work is in order; it could take some months to get her into decent shape. That would be too much time and effort for Obito, there has to be another way of dealing with this mission quicker. 

He did not want to do this, but he will have to talk to Kakashi for some teaching tips. Hell, if he was able to teach anything useful to Naruto he will be able to come up with a routine to help Y/N’s training. 

I just hope he doesn’t decide to bother me about this situation…

After dropping Y/N on her house, with much protest from her part, Obito heads to the village’s café to meet with Kakashi Hatake. He knows that the ninja likes to spend his late afternoons reading his porn books accompanied by some coffee, disgusting stuff if you ask Obito. The coffee, that is. He has no formed opinion on porn books.

Approaching the store, he spots his friend’s mass of upward pointing grey hair. Something is different about him, though. Kakashi is usually… a very apathetic person. The look he gave Obito had chills running the Uchiha’s spine, he looked, well, excited. 

“Obito! I finally found you! Sit down”

Aliens killed him and this is a body double. Or this is one of Gai’s practical jokes. Obito is honestly stumped.

“Are you ok bakashi?”

“Great! So… who’s the girl?”

Great, just awesome.      

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Of course you know, everyone is talking about how you were seen walking up and down with some mysterious gal. I’m so happy for you! Finally you’re going to stop being a sad grumpy bachelor! I’ll call dibs on the position of best-man” and suddenly Kakashi jumps up from his seat, coming closer to Obito’s face “Have you guys done it yet? Did she run away from you and now you need my advice? You could use some techniques from Icha I-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Those books are rotting your brain, seriously what the hell?”

“So is it true?”

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 22

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Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

@alastair-appreciation-month

Previous Chapter: Chapter 21

Next Chapter: Chapter 23

Songs mentioned or quoted are Atlas, Rise by Metallica and Red Cold River by Breaking Benjamin

‘What about the opening above us?’ Cordelia asked. ‘If the water level rises enough, we can escape. I can cut through the bars with cortana.’

‘Are you sure it’s not just another magic barrier cortana won’t help us with?’

The water reached Cordelia’s neck now, and soon she wouldn’t be able to stand in it. The rising of the water level was becoming faster and faster. There was probably a puzzle down there somewhere, but it was too dark underwater, and quite possibly too late. The only way out was up.

‘No I’m not, but unless you think of anything else, it’s the best we’ve got.’

The water rose higher and Cordelia could no longer reach the floor. She was thankful that Lucie had taken her swimming in the past days and she knew how to keep her head above the water. Alastair was struggling a bit more with the change in level.

‘Make sure to keep your head above the water,’ Cordelia said, clutching cortana with both hands.

‘Genius, Cordelia,’ Alastair bit back. ‘Whatever would I do without your advice? It would never have occurred to me to keep my head above the water.’

Cordelia took his sarcasm as a good sign. Drowning people couldn’t speak. It wasn’t like in the movies where people yelled and waved.

When the water level was high enough to reach the bars, she started hacking at them. Parts of the bars fell beside her into the water. One hit her shoulder. She yelped in pain, but she could still move it. Nothing broken. It would probably bruise, but that was all.

She continued hacking at the bars until she was sure the opening was big enough, and turned cortana back into her necklace so she would have her hands free. The water had stopped rising about a foot beneath the surface. She grabbed what remained of the bars and pulled herself up, climbing out of the hole. When she was out, she extended her hand to Alastair and helped pull him out. Strands of his hair had gotten wet, but he’d gone a pretty good job at keeping his head above the water. The rest of him was soaked to the bone. As was Cordelia, including most of her hair. She was shivering and the air was cold as ever in the land in between. She felt like she would never get warm again. Alastair was shivering too, his arms wrapped around his body.

‘Do you have any idea how to get back to the ruins?’ Cordelia asked.

They were in the middle of the woods.

‘I just need to align directions underground with directions here. Give me a moment.’

Alastair sat down, and closed his eyes, going through his memory to navigate. Cordelia had never considered the use of his ability for navigation, but without it she would never have found her way through the maze.

‘Alright, I’ve got it. We have to go that way.’

Cordelia followed her brother quietly, until he stopped, holding his hand out to stop her from moving forward.

‘Do you hear that?’

Cordelia frowned, tried to focus on her hearing. Nothing. ‘Hear what?’

‘The siren’s song. Grace is here and we don’t have her skin yet. If we come any closer, we’ll be under her spell.’

Focused, Cordelia could make out something that sounded like singing, but it could just as easily be the wind. Alastair’s hearing had always been a bit sharper than hers. Sounds were often much louder when she was in his memory, and he tended to avoid loud noises. Except for his favorite music, which for some reason tended to be very loud.

‘So we have to get the key back to the dungeon with Grace’ skin and avoid hearing the song,’ Cordelia concluded. ‘How do we do that?’

Alastair took his phone out of his pocket. Even with careful use of the flashlight it still had a decent battery, whereas Cordelia’s phone was almost dead. He then took out a pair of unusually clean earbuds, and handed them to her, while at the same thing doing something with his phone, his long fingers carefully moving over the display.

Cordelia stared at the earbuds but didn’t do anything with them.

‘I cleaned them yesterday and haven’t used them since.’

‘I know they’re clean. But I don’t think this is enough to block out Grace’ voice. They’re not exactly noise cancelling headphones.’

Alastair used to have those at home, but they’d broken. Much later Alastair had told her Father had broken them while he was drunk. Cordelia wasn’t sure if it had been on purpose, but she knew it must have hurt. Alastair had an odd attachment to his belongings and was extremely careful with everything he owned, something everyone in the family knew about. Something Father knew. Cordelia wasn’t completely sure if their father broke things on purpose or by accident when he was drunk, but it was never father’s belongings that mysteriously broke.

‘It’s not, but it would be with some music on.’

Cordelia put the buds in her ears and Alastair put on a playlist on his phone. She realized he’d been making a playlist for her, probably with the loudest songs he could think of. Noise filled her ears, and Cordelia thought if she put the volume any louder she’d get hearing damage. How Alastair could listen to this, she had no idea.

She could see Alastair’s lips move, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. She pulled out one earbud.

‘What?’

‘You couldn’t hear me.’

‘No, not over that horrible noise you call music.’

‘Excuse me, that is Atlas Rise by Metallica. It’s a very good song.’

‘It’s just loud drums and guitars,’ Cordelia protested.

‘But it works,’ Alastair said. ‘If you couldn’t hear me, you won’t hear her song. I’ll wait here, I only have one pair of earbuds and if she controls me I’ll probably be a danger to you.’

‘What if the entrance is also flooded?’ Cordelia asked. ‘I mean, I can swim, but I don’t think your phone will survive that.’

‘It won’t,’ Alastair agreed. ‘And if you’re really unlucky you might get yourself electrocuted.’

‘I think that only happens when a charging phone falls into the water,’ Cordelia said. ‘But no amount of rice will be able to resurrect your phone if I take it into the water.’

‘So if you have to go into the water, try to just put down the phone somewhere I can find it later, and be quick about it. I think down there you won’t hear Grace either, we could only hear Thomas when he was shouting into the entrance. And if you end up losing or breaking my phone… Well, it was old anyway.’

It was very unlike Alastair to be alright with her losing or breaking his things, but she guessed he understood this was an emergency.

‘Don’t die, Layla,’ he said. ‘You get that skin.’

Cordelia put the earbuds back in, and she wondered why Alastair liked this so much. She broke into a run, she could see the ruins from here. She could see Tatiana and Grace, walking toward the ruins, and toward Lucie and Thomas. She had to get there first.

She couldn’t hear anything but Alastair’s music, and she had to admit it was working. This probably blocked out Grace better than Taylor Swift did. There’s not a thing I cannot make you do, Grace had said. But her magic didn’t work if Cordelia couldn’t hear her.

Die as you suffer in vain, own all the grief and the pain

Cordelia began to get an idea why Alastair was drawn to music like this, even if she couldn’t understand why he found it so soothing. He usually couldn’t stand loud noises and he used to wear his noise cancelling headphones whenever their mother was using the vacuum cleaner because he found it too loud.

By the time Cordelia reached the ruins, Tatiana and Grace had already reached Lucie and Thomas. There was a woman with them, a woman who greatly resembled Tatiana. Cordelia hid behind a tree, it was better if Tatiana didn’t see her until she could make a run for the skin.

The unfamiliar woman looked at Tatiana, distraught, and said something to her. Cordelia couldn’t hear a thing over Alastair’s music. Tatiana sneered something at the woman. Did they know each other? Cordelia didn’t think they were on good terms. Tatiana turned to Grace and said something to her. Grace rolled her eyes before responding. Tatiana muttered something before turning her attention back to the other woman, who said something that clearly distraught Tatiana.

Cordelia couldn’t hear a thing though. I can’t feel anything at all, this love has led me to the end, was all she heard, mixed with try to find a reason to live. Alastair’s music really was angsty.

The woman appeared gentle, caring even towards Tatiana, but Tatiana accepted none of her kindness, instead yelling something at her.

‘If you did, if you were really a mother, you’d understand I’d do anything for my son.’ She yelled loud enough that Cordelia could make out her words.

Tatiana was distracted, and Cordelia took her chance. She sprinted towards the trap door.

‘Stop her!’ Tatiana yelled, and she saw Thomas and Lucie come for her from the corner of her eye.

Cordelia was faster though. She reached the trap door, and realized the hall was indeed flooded. She removed the earbuds and dropped Alastair’s phone. She would buy him a new one if it broke, she decided. Hopefully she could find the money somewhere. Hopefully it wasn’t broken. She dived into the water, and underneath Grace’s voice was too distorted, too far away. She felt a hand around her ankle, grabbing her. The hand was big and firm, Thomas? Cordelia struggled against the grip, kicking back with her free foot. She hit someone’s chest, several times until the person had no choice but to let go.

Cordelia swum into the deep. She could barely see anything and realized there was no air in here. If she didn’t get to the skin before she was out of breath she was doomed. She would drown in here.

Her lungs began to burn for air, but Cordelia gripped the key tightly, and pushed it into where the door had been. The magic barrier lifted and the key broke just like all the other keys she’d found. It made no sense, but that didn’t matter. She could enter. Cordelia swum through, and grabbed the skin. Now to get back up. She turned around, and desperately swam up. She could see the light, and that’s where she needed to go. She gasped for air as soon as she was up, and now she could finally hear Grace’ singing. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, certainly more beautiful than Alastair’s music.

Cordelia would do anything for her, but there was nothing Grace asked for right now. Cordelia climbed out of the trap hole, holding the skin in front of her. She would do anything for the siren, and she knew there was nothing Grace wanted more then the skin Cordelia was holding.

‘Grace! I have brought you what you asked for.’

Grace turned to look at her, and noticed the skin. She stopped singing.

‘What are you doing?’ Tatiana yelled.

Grace ran to Cordelia, and took hold of her skin, draping it around her shoulders like a cloak. Here she would be unable to turn into a seal, or at the very least it would be unpractical, but she was in control again.

‘You cannot control me anymore, Tatiana,’ Grace said.

Tatiana looked scared. She hesitated for a moment, but before Grace could do anything to stop her, Tatiana disappeared into a cloud of darkness. When had she learnt such magic? It must have been part of the deal she’d made with the thief of souls.

Lucie and Thomas broke free of the spell, and a few moments later Alastair appeared from behind the trees, still soaked to the bone and teeth clattering.

‘I came as soon as I heard she stopped singing. Is no one hurt?’

‘What happened to you?’ Thomas asked. ‘I saw the place flood, was there another exit?’

‘The key was a trap,’ Alastair said. ‘The room locked us in and then flooded, but there was a barred opening at the top. Cordelia cut through it with cortana so we could get out.’

‘How were you immune to my song?’ Grace asked Cordelia. ‘I kept trying to get you to stop. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you didn’t listen. But I don’t understand how you did it.’

Cordelia grinned. ‘I couldn’t hear you. My brother’s music taste is loud and heavy and I was listening to some music on his phone.’

Alastair looked around and picked up his phone and earbuds from next to the trap door. Cordelia desperately hoped she hadn’t broken anything.

Grace nodded. ‘I presume that is the modern version of putting wax in one’s ears.’

‘You will be returning to the sea, I guess?’ Cordelia asked.

‘As soon as I can. I’m glad to see the witch unlocked some of her potential. And I suspected that strange memory ability would be useful in navigating the puzzles to my skin. The rules of this land say there must be a solution to the puzzle, so Tatiana just made it as complicated as she could in the time she had. Be glad she’s been so busy, or it would have been twice as big.’

‘I think that was plenty,’ Alastair said.

‘But you solved it.’

‘Now that you’re free, can you tell us what Tatiana is up to?’

‘I cannot tell you everything, because I do not know all she is up to. I know her main goal is to resurrect Jesse, I know it cost her much to bring back his ghost and it will cost more to bring him to life. She has been an assassin of sorts for the thief of souls, collecting souls he deems interesting. My help made that a lot easier, she forced me to use my powers to make people kill themselves. I know eventually Thomas will die if she is not stopped, to replace Jesse, but only once he lives.’

‘Is there any way to help both Thomas and Jesse?’ Lucie asked.

‘Not unless you destroy the thief of souls himself,’ Grace said.

‘What is he, exactly?’ Lucie asked.

‘From what I’ve heard, he was once a mortal man who sought eternal life. He found a gateway to another realm where he could live forever and gather power through collecting souls. It’s not where the dead are supposed to go, but he takes them. Once he could draw people in at will, it depends on how strong the seal is. Now he only gets them when he makes deals with humans in exchanges for souls he finds interesting. I think it makes a difference if the soul is offered by someone closely connected to them, because he likes to ask for family members, loved ones. I think that when you offer a soul not related by blood, you have to kill them, but when you offer a soul related by blood, the thief can use the connection to find them himself. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but that’s why he needed Tatiana to be an assassin whereas he killed Jesse himself.

He can give magic away. Magic similar to what Lucie can do, that’s why Tatiana can see Jesse, and why she allowed me to see Jesse, so I could help her watch him. But his magic can also create sickness, cause people to disappear, the kind of thing Tatiana’s father did to his rivals. He doesn’t usually reach into our world without a blood connection, that’s why he can’t just kill at random.’

‘He created my sickness, didn’t he?’ Thomas asked.

‘I think it is not uncommon for those promised to him to develop a sickness,’ Grace said. ‘What happened to you and Jesse is a bit less common, I think, because he waited so long to collect. I think it’s because he suspected Tatiana could become useful to him, and he wanted to see just how far she’d go for him when he was sick. As for you, I think there was much he could learn about your family as well by keeping you sick. It was a good way to weigh which boy would to choose. Which soul would be more valuable, but also whose parents might deal with him. It became obvious Tatiana would go very far for her child with no care for who else got hurt, and so he chose Jesse. Because he knew she would do everything to bring him back.’

‘Just like you thought,’ Thomas said to Alastair.

‘Souls are the price of his game,’ Alastair said and Cordelia could tell he was thinking of something, but couldn’t tell what.

‘But they don’t know about me?’ Lucie asked.

‘Not yet,’ Grace said. ‘But it’s only a matter of time until they find out.’

‘Do you know why the thief of souls collects souls?’ Alastair asked. ‘Do they have a use for him?’

‘I think the more souls he collects, the more powerful he becomes,’ Grace said. ‘I’m not sure why it matters who. Of course, there will always be souls more interesting than others. I think the four or you would be more interesting than a hundred boring average people. And the connection to the people who offer the souls matter too. I think he draws power from bonds of family, or love.’

‘But how much love can there be if you’re willing to sacrifice someone for power,’ Alastair wondered.

Cordelia had to agree, if someone was willing to sacrifice a relative or a spouse for power, they couldn’t love them very much, could they? But perhaps it wasn’t so much about love as it was about the connection. Besides, love lay close to hate, much closer than people thought. Cordelia had learnt that indifference was the real opposite of love.

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Grace said. ‘The thief of souls only takes humans. My kind doesn’t have souls. Instead, when we die we turn into sea foam.’

That sounded rather horrifying. Wasn’t that what happened in the original little mermaid?

‘Do all mermaids, or selkies, know about this?’ Cordelia asked. ‘Or did you find out from Tatiana?’

‘We know stories, rumors,’ Grace said. ‘But with Tatiana I realized it was real. Even if she never told me anything, I learnt plenty by being around her.’

‘How long were you with her, exactly?’ Thomas asked.

‘Three years,’ Grace said. ‘She often pretended I was her daughter, and made me do the work the thief of souls asked of her. I haven’t been to the sea in all this time.’

‘And your skin was here for three years?’ Cordelia asked.

‘No, she only did that when she came here,’ Grace said. ‘Before, she kept it with her, but here she suspected you might steal it if you found out what it was. She didn’t realize I could still escape when she hadn’t given me specific instructions.’

‘If the thief of souls can do all these things, why does he not take over our world, kill at random?’ Alastair asked.

‘As I said, he needs a blood connection to operate in our world, and the promises form humans he works with. According to Tatiana, he has been sealed away by a witch a long time ago. But here’s where it gets interesting. Apparently, somewhere in the Victorian era he’d grown so powerful he could leave his realm, kill people without a deal. He had a daughter too at that time. A witch called Theresa Gray. She was the one who sealed him away. I think, considering how old he is, it must have been done before, but I don’t know how or when. The seal will break again, although I have no idea how long that will take.’

Lucie frowned. ‘Theresa Gray, that’s my mother’s name. Well, she usually goes by Tessa.’

Grace stared at Lucie. ‘I heard the thief speak of her. He never expected her betrayal, and couldn’t defeat her or stop her from sealing him. But he could take her memory. Weakened from the battle, she fell asleep in the land in between and only woke up a 130 years later with false memories of her childhood in time she woke up in. He took her power away while she slept, since she was in the land in between he could still do that. He does not believe she is a threat to him anymore, and thinks that with enough interesting or powerful souls, he’ll break free for good.’

‘Meaning this woman would live in the modern age, with no idea who she was?’ Alastair asked. ‘Lucie, it could really be your mother. The timeline adds up. And if she was the thief’s daughter, that would explain your why your power is so connected to his.’

‘Everyone in my mother’s family died,’ Lucie mused, ‘All when my mother was very young. My only family are on the Herondale side. It could be her. And although she doesn’t have the sight, it was very easy for my father to get her to see and believe, something that has always surprised him. But then she would have been the same witch Jessamine knew. Wouldn’t Jessamine have recognized her?’

‘I don’t know, it has been a very long time and Jessamine didn’t know her that well,’ Cordelia said. ‘Could easily be that Jessamine forgot her face.’

‘I could talk to your mother,’ Alastair said. ‘See if I can restore her memory. If she lived a different life than she remembers, the real memories are still there somewhere.’

‘Have you done anything like that before?’ Lucie asked.

‘Not as extreme as an entire life someone forgot,’ Alastair said. ‘But I have restored missing memories, yes. Most of the time, there isn’t much of a point to it though. Not everyone wants to remember.’

Cordelia knew what Alastair was talking about. It was something he’d told her about not long ago, after learning about their father’s alcoholism. He’d tried to restore their father’s memories from when he was too drunk to remember, hoping that if he knew how much he was hurting Alastair, he would stop. Nothing had changed though.

‘What is Tatiana planning next?’ Alastair asked Grace. ‘How much time do we have left?’

‘She didn’t tell me,’ Grace said. ‘She comes here to communicate with him, I think that was her intention today. But she wants you out of the way too. Ultimately, Thomas must die so Jesse can live, but I think she will try to kill all of you when she can, especially when she find out what Lucie can do. The thief lost track of witches, and they’re very uncommon nowadays.’

‘Are all witches his children?’ Lucie asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Grace said. ‘In his current state, he would be unable to leave his realm and have a child, but he used to be able to. I don’t think he’d try again if he could though, not after his daughter turned on him. But they could be descendants, generations away. I’m not sure how the magic inherits.’

Some of the stones shifted, the ruins became a little more like a castle.

‘I think we need to get out of here,’ Cordelia said.

She was still soaking wet, as was Alastair, and getting colder. She longed for a hot shower and some clean clothes. Lucie opened a separate gateway for Grace, and they walked into the light that brought them back to the forest.

Lucie stared into the distance for a moment. ‘She’s become transparent again. Show yourself, Barbara.’

The woman Cordelia had seen before appeared. Who was she? Another ghost, but somehow Lucie had pulled her back into this world.

‘You’ve taken a soul away from him,’ Grace said. ‘You really are powerful. But he’s going to be very mad.’

‘What else was I supposed to do? I’m not sending her back,’ Lucie said crossly.

‘Fine with me, but you should know what you’re doing,’ Grace said. ‘You’re making a powerful enemy.’

‘He was always my enemy,’ Lucie said determinedly.

Cordelia feared what would happen though. Would the thief of souls realize how powerful Lucie was? Would he come for her, out of fear that Lucie would finish what Tessa had started?

Grace nodded. ‘Alright then. I will be going my own way. I need to return to the sea. Perhaps you can come visit me some day on the Isle of Skye.’

Grace then walked into the woods, and disappeared. Did she intend to walk all the way to the coast? Cordelia wanted to call after her, but she was long gone.

[disgruntledspacedad]

in defense of Din’s subdued reaction to losing the kid...

gif by @quantam-widow

I know we were all thinking it. We got a 2 second reaction shot to the destruction of the Razor Crest (may she forever rest in peace), but then, Grogu gets taken, and... nothing?

What the fuck, Din? we all protest. That’s your baby on that ship! Don’t you care? Scream, curse, kick a rock, cry, make a fist, something!!

I will acknowledge that so far, the show has been excellent with giving us emotional payoff, am I right? I mean, just today we got Din laughing, twice. Twice in a row. I honestly never thought we’d see that. There have been so many excellent, precious soft!Din moments this season, and they all feel deliciously earned.

So, from a meta POV, I guess I’m saying that I have faith in the writers to get it right, and in Pedro to deliver. Duh.

In universe, though, I think it’s fair to point out the obvious - that Din is a pretty reserved guy. He’s much more of a thinker than a feeler. He’s used to keeping things bottled up, and I would even argue that his life often depends on his ability to dissociate from his emotions. Din’s entire journey so far has been about how one little baby yodito shakes his worldview to its very foundations. He’s getting there, but it’s a slow process. 

And also, consider this - we haven’t seen Din alone yet, not since Grogu was taken. For a guy who lives a guarded life literally encased in fucking armor, any display of emotion is going to be carefully protected until he’s in private.

But anyway, Din is detached, rational, a little emotionally constipated, and definitely comfortable in a stressful situation. A true ISTP if you ask me (yeah, I know you didn’t, but whatever). Often, it seems that these cool headed, logical types who have never ruffled a feather over anything in their lives are the least adept at handling genuine fear. In other words, when panic does strike, it strikes them hard. 

And guys, Din was definitely panicking during this episode. 

He’s clearly unsettled from the jump - that outburst of “dank farrik!” in the cockpit sells it, and his distress only becomes more obvious from there. Talking out loud, trying to convince himself that the best thing for Grogu is for him to be trained as a Jedi. Reminding himself of the creed. His overt caution as they approach the seeing stone. His impatience, “Are you seeing anything??”

Then there’s the effects of long term stress. Sure, a bounty hunter in the outer rim doesn’t exactly live an easy life, but Din is definitely used to the drama being on his terms. Compare Din’s body language in the opening scene of season one to when Boba confronts him in chapter fourteen. You can just feel the anxiety, the weariness, the frustration. Din has been on the run for months now, constantly looking over his shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. Notice how he even startles at Fennec’s voice? Season one Din would never have given that much away, regardless of the situation. Long term stress has clearly taken a toll on him.

So we have unsettled, stressed out Din in an emotionally charged situation. He’s exhausted, he’s scared, he’s desperate. This scenario is a recipe for even the most level-headed of adrenaline junkies to loose their cool, and that’s exactly what happens to Din. He panics, and he makes some pretty big fuckups because of it. Leaving Grogu unprotected, twice. Trying three different times to break through that “force field,” even when he knew he couldn’t. Dropping that jetpack and then just forgetting about it (I know we were all screaming about that one, or at least, I was).

So, fear is a positive feedback loop. Those neurotransmitters that do us good in a bad situation - raising heart rate, narrowing focus, shunting blood to the muscles - can also be detrimental if we get too high of a dose - tachypnea and tachycardia, inability to think critically and see the big picture, lack of blood and oxygen to the brain. Epinephrine, in particular, even inhibits the laying down of new memory pathways. In other words, stress leads to poor performance, and poor performance leads to more stress, which leads to... you get the idea.

Then, in the middle of all this chaos, they fucking blast the Razor Crest.

More epinephrine, more cortisol, more stress. 

By the end of it all, Din is a fucking shitstorm of stress hormones and pent up emotions. Notice how he seems to be on autopilot in the immediate aftermath, robotically scanning the ashes of the Crest for anything that might be left intact. Notice how empty his voice is when he says, “the child is gone.” This is a dead man walking. Din has nothing left. His whole life has just gone up in smoke, and he can do nothing about it. 

Guys, Din is holding onto his sanity by a fucking thread in this scene. “The child is gone,” he says, like he’s reminding himself, grounding himself in his shitty reality. He’s stunned. 

And helpless. There’s literally nothing he can do for Grogu. He has no ship, no credits, no resources, nothing to bargain with, nothing to offer. Din literally cannot allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. He’s just got to focus on surviving this very shitty day.

Then, Boba Fett upholds his end of the deal, and suddenly, Din has something to hold onto. An ally, a badass friend, some hope. I don’t think Boba shows Din that chain code in order to verify his claim on the armor - he’s already wearing it, for godssake. I think Boba shows him the code in order to catch Din’s attention - hey friend, I know you’re hurting, but I’m a man of my word. When I make a vow, I keep it. Let’s regroup and go find your kid.

And Din would totally latch onto that. A fighting chance? Din fucking leaps at it. There’s a job to do. A kid to save. All of those stress hormones are going to keep on stewing, because Din has never really come down from his adrenaline high. 

It’s like this in real life, too. There isn’t time to be afraid. There isn’t time to be sad, or second-guess, or say, oh how terrible, or wonder what if it doesn’t work? There’s just you and the job, and if you are the only thing standing between life and death, you will put everything else aside and do what you have to do, for as long as you have to do it.

And that’s where Din is at this moment. He’s running on the fumes of his adrenaline, all tempered focus, all strategy and no bullshit.

Emotional shock, my therapist buddy calls it. Apparently, it’s normal. Expected, even.

But guys, the fallout of this kind of crazy ass adrenaline high is insanely intense. I’m talking collapse to the floor, legs won't hold you, trembling, crying so hard you sling snot, shuddering breaths, stare dead-eyed and spent at the ceiling because you’re just too wiped out to even sleep kind of intense. 

And then, after the breakdown comes the angst. The detailed thinking. The oh god, what if this had happened, or, should I have done that instead? It seems like every emotion that gets put on the back burner in the moment comes back to bite you with twofold intensity when all is said and done. 

In other words, Din is definitely going to feels some things .A lot of very intense things. A reckoning is coming, my dudes. Trust me. It’s just not quite here yet.

That being said, here’s what I can expect from Din going forward:

Just like he’s is slow to acknowledge his growing parental feelings for Grogu, I think Din’s going to be slow at processing his grief at Grogu’s loss. In the next episode, he’s got plenty to distract him - getting together his hit team to take back the kid and coordinating an attack on the empire. 

However, I do think we’ll get a slow moment with Din, probably sometime at the beginning of next week’s episode if the pattern holds. I doubt it’s the full-blown breakdown that we’re all needing, but I’m willing to bet money that we’ll see Din grappling with the fact that his kid is gone. I also think that badass beskar murder machine Din from chapter three will resurface. Stress and desperation make us do irrational things, and anger is one of the stages of grief that Din will inevitably have to work through (I think he’s flickering between denial and bargaining for now).

But then, after Din gets Grogu back? I think that’s we’ll have our big, dearly earned emotional payoff. 

For one thing, Din won’t be able to deny his feelings anymore. He wants to keep this kid, it’s so very obvious. Losing him just forces it all to the forefront. 

And then the relief/joy/regret/guilt that Din is going to feel once he’s got Grogu back? Not to mention the physical exhaustion? All of the fear/terror/angst/grief that he ignored in favor of just going pedal to the metal, guns blazing, get the kid or die trying? That shit’s going to crash into him with all the subtly of a fucking tsunami. I guarantee you, we’re going to get some sort of confession, or adoption vow, or face revel, or other sort of profound softness from Dad!Din in the falling action of this season (At least, I hope we get it at the end this season but I wouldn’t put it past them to kick it into the premier of season three, just for pacing reasons, but then again, I obviously have trust issues).

Personally, I would love to see Din grappling with the long-term fallout of losing Grogu - night terrors, guilt, paranoia, etc. That’s probably the stuff of fanfiction - mandalorians don't have nightmares on screen, surely - but still, some lingering effects Grogu’s kidnapping would be realistic, and I would absolutely live for it.

[amelialincoln]

Something Good Can Work

Amelia was notoriously a light sleeper. To her frustration, Link was not. Instead, he was usually restless, dreaming about who knows what. She’d ask him about the dreams every couple of weeks, trying to force something out of him that he was obviously set on burrowing deep inside. Thus, she was always unsuccessful which resulted in many sleepless nights, as her boyfriend tossed and turned beside her. Since Scout had been born she sometimes questioned if she even slept at all. Every little sound jerked her awake and she’d find herself standing in the doorway of Scout’s room, pleading that he was still sound asleep in his crib or, as he’d grown older, his new twin bed. And he always was, with his mouth slightly agape and his little brown curls jutted out in a halo around his head. She’d triple check that the baby monitor was on and working, press a gentle kiss upon her son’s head and finally make her way back to the shared bed, where Link was probably radiating like a furnace.

Her nightly checks on Scout became a bit more obvious as she grew with their second child. At around six months Amelia lost her ability to be light on her feet, to the point where even her heavy sleeper of a boyfriend would be able to sense her trying to sneak out of their bed. He’d pull her back towards him, wrapping her up in the warm, familiar embrace, that she had become reliant on, and tell her that everything was all right. After deciding that telling him about the slight creak that came from the hallway (which was most definitely an intruder coming to take their son) was a bit delusional, the nightly routine had come to cease and forced herself to stay put as the curtains swayed and the refrigerator hummed. She knew the increasing paranoia was centred around the masked man that had come into their family store when she was young but the whole thing seemed like a lot to put on Link, so she chose to keep it all inside. Much like her boyfriend, with his own silent nightmares.

Amelia was awoken from her light sleep that morning by the slight dip at the end of their bed. Their mattress was already so unbalanced by the contrast in weight between her and Link that any added pressure would cause the bed to creak and grind along the back wall. She shot up, trying to mask the look of shock on her face as she met Scout’s grinning expression.

“Happy Mama’s Day!” Scout cried, holding out the makeshift card that he must have worked on at preschool the day before.

“Thanks, baby,” Amelia tried to hide the shake in her voice as she awkwardly pulled him up beside her, allowing him to cuddle up to her swollen abdomen. Link stood in the doorway, holding a plate of their favourite pastries from the bakery down the street, watching the exchange with slight concern.

“You slept well,” he remarked. “Didn’t even stir when I got up.” He’d begun to notice the lack of sleep that she’d been getting over the course of her pregnancy, with him becoming more and more cautious of her health. Amelia nodded as she read over the jagged but carefully cut out flower petals, each containing a letter of her name that contained an endearing word that Scout associated with her. “Long, huh?” Link chuckled, peering over her shoulder. “That’s a good one, Scout.”

“L words are hard,” Scout pouted in response. “I couldn’t think of a good one.”

“It’s good, bud,” Link laughed. “I think that one might be better for my name though. I don’t know if you’d be here right now if your Mom wasn’t so obsessed with how long I am,” he smirked at Amelia.

“Link!”

“Yeah, you are pretty tall. A lot taller than Mom. I guess she isn’t that long.” Scout shrugged, staring at the card with a pondering expression on his face. “I think love for L is a better one now. Can I go change it?” He asked.

“Of course,” Amelia responded, glaring at Link who was still suppressing laughter. “But you did a perfect job, okay? Your Daddy is just being silly.” Scout nodded, gripping the card with his pudgy toddler hands and running out of their bedroom. “You’re unbelievable.” Amelia shook her head as Link placed down the platter of baked goods and carefully lowered himself down to sit at the edge of their bed.

“You say that after you asked for sex as your gift for Mother’s Day.” He chuckled, placing a couple of soft kisses on her forehead and lips.

“I’m hormonal,” Amelia whined, biting into the croissant that Link handed to her. “And you made him feel bad about his card, which was great.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Link shook his head, his eyes casting down to the muffin he was picking apart. “Amazing, magical, exciting, long, ice cream and awesome is exactly how I would describe you too.” The grin on his face was full of amusement. Amelia shook her head, suppressing a smile as Scout came bounding back into the room with his revised card. Amelia placed it on her bedside and allowed her son to crawl into her lap and nuzzle into her chest. Scout, tuckered out from the excitement of waiting patiently for Link to allow him to wake up his mother and presenting his card, fell asleep almost immediately, small snores radiating from his mouth.

“You okay, Mia?” Link asked, pushing a fallen strand of hair out of her face as he watched her stare absentmindedly at their sleeping boy. “You seem a little out of it.” Her ocean blue eyes raised up to meet his as she snapped out of the daze she was in.

“Just tired,” she gave him a small smile. “It’s weird to think that next Mother’s Day there will be two of them.”

“Maybe even for Father’s Day,” Link grinned. Amelia nodded, pressing a hand to her stomach as their little girl rolled lazily inside of her.

“You guys walked down to the bakery this morning? I didn’t know they were open this early.” She glanced at the bedside alarm clock which read 6:45. Mornings in the Lincoln apartment were almost always early.

“We went late last night while you were still at work. We were going to just get donuts for dessert but we ended up picking up some stuff for breakfast as well,” he explained, ruffling Scout’s shaggy brown hair as he stirred in his sleep.

“You walked? Our neighbourhood isn’t the best place to be just walking around late at night, especially since Scout tends to bolt off the minute you're not watching him and go chat up strangers. I was talking to Mrs. Hudgins on the third floor and she said that two men tried to mug her on Friday. She was lucky that that guy, Kevin, in the lobby saw it happening because he came out right away. I don’t think that--”

“We drove,” Link interrupted her, watching the worry start to melt off her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Amelia shook her head for the second time before leaning back against the bed frame. “I’m just worried that once the new baby comes I won’t be as alert if he runs off because I’ll be pushing the stroller. Or if I’ll be too preoccupied with getting her out of the carseat and won’t notice if someone comes out of nowhere and grabs him…” she trailed off, glancing at Scout who was shifting uncomfortably as Amelia had stopped playing gently with his hair. His girlfriend sighed as she dropped her previously gesturing hand back atop their son’s head.

“Hey, if it’s worrying you this much we can start looking for other places,” he assured her, placing a warm and comforting hand on her knee and shifting closer to the pair of them.

“I’ve looked a bit,” she admitted. “You know how much I like going on those real-estate websites and looking at houses just for fun." She shrugged as her smile faded. "I just think that moving would be stressful right now and I can’t help carry boxes or be on my feet all day packing. Even if we were to move after the baby’s born I’ll still be in postpartum for awhile and if I tear or anything I’ll be in recovery for a bit.”

“Well, it seems like you’ve given this a lot of thought.” Link shifted on the bed, trying to read her expression.

“I have lots of time to think about it when I’m up all night,” she tried to joke and just received a more concerned look from him. “I’m kidding.”

“Yeah, I know,” he avoided her gaze by glancing down at Scout. “We’re running late so I can drive him today.” Link pulled the protesting toddler up and into his arms.

“But it’s Mother’s Day. I wanna be with mom!” Scout shrieked, causing Amelia to wince. “Mommy, please,” he cried, as he met his Mom’s teary, hormonal expression.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s time for school but I can pick you up and we can go to the park to play,” Amelia answered, trying to keep her voice level and ignoring Link’s sympathetic gaze as tears threatened to spill from her eyes at the sight of seeing him so upset.

“Promise?” Scout mumbled as Link lingered in the doorway.

“Promise,” Amelia confirmed.

She was always shocked by how little time it took Link to get Scout ready for practically any occasion. They were out the door in five, locking it quickly and Amelia watched out the window as Link pulled out of the narrow parking garage with ease. Scout grinning from ear to ear as she watched him connect his phone to the bluetooth of their car and undoubtedly play Scout’s favourite song, which funnily enough was Better When I'm Dancing by Meghan Trainer. Amelia and Link usually couldn't help but suppress their laughter when he continued to request it every time they were in the car.

She lingered in bed for a bit longer. Her third trimester had her energy levels at an all time low. She could barely make it through a shift at work now. When she was pregnant with Scout she worked until she basically went into labor but the second time around Link would often find her passed out in on call rooms or her office when she was at the hospital and would have to practically drag her home. Eventually, she made her way into the kitchen finding a colourful bouquet of tulips and hydrangeas with a small written note from Link and the rest of the bakery goods on the island. The note contained a long and neatly written paragraph about how amazing of a mother, and a wife, she was along with a quickly scribbled message at the bottom, probably written last minute this morning, saying he had to go check up on a patient at the hospital quickly after dropping Scout off but would be back to spend the rest of the day together in an hour. They’d talked about getting married a lot but, after four years of being together and the wedding talk beginning to fade, Link had just begun to call her his wife, despite them not getting around to actually getting a marriage license. She’d already had her big fancy wedding once so it wasn’t a big deal to her; however, she wanted Link to have the same and knew that someday they would get around to at least having one themselves. She also died at the idea of Scout being their ring bearer and maybe, if she was old enough, their little girl being the flower girl.

[][][]

Link checked his watch for the thousandth time in what seemed like a singular minute. He had promised Amelia they’d spend the day together and had even asked for the day off to be with his pregnant girlfriend, who had been spending more and more time away from work as her pregnancy progressed. Apparently Nico had screwed up and had accidentally made a false diagnosis on a trauma patient so Link was there to do damage control and try to talk a patient into not deciding to sue the entire hospital.

“There’s not much else I can say to them.” Link stepped out into the hallway where an angry Bailey and a sulking Nico were waiting. “The mistake was fair, I might’ve done the same as a fellow. It’s just shitty that it happened to a lawyer who knows a lot more about the law than I do. In that case, I don’t really know why you called me in…” he glanced at his boss, “respectfully.”

“Well, considering that--”

“Dr. Bailey,” he interrupted, itching to get back to Amelia. “There’s nothing more that I can do here. Nico made a mistake. It happens all the time. As doctors we aren’t perfect but it ended up being an easy fix. The guy is an ass, he’s looking for money but in the end this hospital saved his life so what happens from now on is out of our hands.” To Link’s surprise, Bailey nodded.

“Alright, thank you for trying, Dr. Lincoln. Tell Shepherd to have your baby, we need her back. Too many stupid mistakes are ruining my hospital. Shepherd doesn’t make mistakes.” She glared at Nico before leaving the pair, who shrugged. Link nodded to his fellow with a hint of annoyance by his attitude before making his way into the elevator and glancing at his phone which had lit up with his girlfriend’s name.

“Hey, babe. Sorry I’m just heading out now, what’s up?” He pushed the P1 button and waited for his girlfriend's response.

“Link,” the panic in her voice was evident.

“What’s going on? Is the baby okay? Are you okay?” He answered quickly, ever since the scare they’d had a couple months back about a possible placental abruption the pair had been on pretty high alert, he prayed to god that everything was alright.

“I-I think someone’s trying to break in,” she answered with ragged breaths. “Someone is fiddling with the locks. I can hear them and I don’t know what to do. I don't know w-what to do. I...I love you.” Link sprinted out of the elevator as the doors opened to the underground parkade.

“Did you call the front desk? They can get to you quickly and call the police. Where are you?” He practically launched himself into their SUV as his phone connected to the car’s speakers and sound of Amelia’s uncontrollable fast paced breathing filled his ears.

“I’m in our room. I don’t know where to go,” the noise of her escalating panic attack was cut off as he heard their apartment’s door open through the phone.

“Amelia?” There was talking from the other end for a moment before her voice returned on the line.

“H-Hey, I’m sorry, it’s the apartment maintenance guys coming to fix the ice maker. I didn’t hear them knock so they thought we weren’t home and let themselves in. I’m sorry, I thought…” she trailed off and Link’s head fell forward in relief, allowing the wave of nausea that was clouding over him, at the idea of someone harming her and their baby, to pass. “Link, I--”

“It’s okay," he exhaled, "I’ll be home in a sec, okay?” He willed the sound of his own distress to be hidden by the crackling of the phone from the lack of service in the underground parkade. “Just try to calm down, Amelia. We don’t want you going into preterm labor,” he tried to keep his voice light. “I’ll be home soon.” The phone call ended as he steered out of the parking lot and out onto the highway. When he’d bought the apartment he didn’t have any thought about whether it was "kid friendly" at the time. He hadn’t even thought about the idea of sharing it with anyone else. It was the perfect place for just himself. With nice enough neighbours and not too expensive for the amount of space. He’d definitely thought about moving after Amelia had moved in and again after they’d had Scout. But like everything else in their life, including the wedding they always used to talk about, work came first and they never seemed to have the time to search for a new place.

[][][]

Upon arriving home he found Amelia curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, still visibly shaking. She burst into tears as he entered the apartment and burrowed her face in her hands.

“Babe, come here,” he sighed, pulling her into his chest and wiping tears off her face with his thumb.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” she faltered, allowing herself to finally relax into his arms. “It’s just I didn’t hear them knock, I was napping on the couch and then I woke up to the door handle rattling and it sounded like someone was picking the lock and I got so scared I couldn’t--”

“Breathe,” he reminded her, rubbing protective circles on her back. “It’s okay, Mia. As long as you’re both okay.” He watched her face change as she was reminded of the condition she was in.

“She wasn’t moving f-for awhile.” She sputtered as she followed the breathing pattern he was setting for her. “But since you’ve been back I can feel her again.”

“She just missed her Daddy,” Link smiled softly, placing a hand on the underside of her stomach and trying to distract her. “Scout’s definitely a Momma’s boy so it’s only fair this one likes me better.”

“Scout does not like me better.” Link watched her breathing normalize as her mind was filled with the thought of their son. “You’re the one who takes him to get donuts after I say no.”

“And what does he say every time I bring him and you’re not there?” Link asked, watching his girlfriend grin. “I want to bring one back for Mommy.” He mimicked Scout’s adorable pleading voice. “Speaking of Scout, he probably needs to get picked up soon.” He glanced at the clock. “Do you want me to go grab him?”

“It’s okay I’ll go, I promised him. It’s raining so we can’t go to the park but I can tell him that we’ll make a fort when we get back.”

“Are you sure you’re good to drive? You still look a bit anxious. I can come with you?” He offered, taking her cold hand into his and bringing it to his lips. She shook her head, standing up slowly with the help of his hand guiding up her lower back.

“I’ll be fine, it’s only a couple of blocks,” she assured him. “Can you make him lunch for when he gets back? He didn’t have a very big breakfast.” She noted as she absentmindedly soothed a spot on her abdomen and reached for her coat.

“Of course,” he confirmed, stepping up to help her. “Call me if you need anything.” Even though today was a false alarm he couldn’t help but feel an added sense of worry that came with her being by herself but he didn’t want to scare her with his own unease. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[][][]

Scout was visibly upset by the lack of visit to the park as Amelia secured him into his car seat. He gripped tightly onto the bouquet of wildflowers he picked at recess to add to his father’s preexisting bouquet of flowers that sat in the kitchen before he handed them to his mother, as she finished clipping him into his car seat.

“Getting big,” a voice from behind her made her jump. She turned to find Scout’s teacher from last year getting into the parked car beside theirs. “When are you due?”

“Next month,” she answered lightly. “On the sixth.” She smiled at Scout before shutting the door and climbing into the front seat to avoid getting any wetter.

“We’ve seen a lot of Atticus around,” the teacher continued. “Scout mentioned that you were feeling sick a lot?”

“Mostly past that now,” she glanced back at Scout who was nodding and shook her head with amusement. “His father just usually picks him up on his way back from work now since I’m on maternity.” The man nodded, giving Scout a quick wave who returned it excitedly.

“Well, it's nice to see you around again, I definitely miss having Scout in my class. Have a great rest of your day,” he replied before pulling out of the parking lot.

“You miss your mom picking you up?” Amelia smirked into the rearview mirror at Scout who was still happily smiling to himself about receiving some appraisal from his teacher.

“Nooooooo,” Scout giggled. “You just talk to the other moms for so long it means I get more play time.”

“Right,” she laughed.

[][][]

Amelia pushed open the door to their apartment and watched Scout launch himself into his father’s arms, out of breath from climbing the stairs. The two stared back at them, with the same happy grin that was the one trait in which Scout had adopted from his father.

“My handsome boys,” She laughed, as they both wore an adorable blush. “What did Daddy make you for lunch?” She asked as Link set him down in his highchair which they still used considering that Scout was the squirmiest toddler and had adopted his mother’s ADHD.

“Grilled cheese!” Scout announced happily, doing his little food wiggle. Link chuckled, setting down the plastic plate on the highchair and receiving the high five that Scout was attempting to slap him with.

“Hey, I have something to show you,” he whispered, guiding Amelia over to the couch gently and pulling her into his lap. He quickly typed his password into his laptop and clicked on one of the open tabs.

“Link…”

“It's a five bedroom. Which I know is super big but Maggie always says that you wanted four kids.” He rested his chin on her shoulder as he watched her face flicker with surprise. “But if we don’t want that anymore one...or two can be guest rooms.” She shushed him, motioning for him to keep clicking through the photos. “It’s got a big backyard and look at the master bathroom. You always talk about wanting two sinks right? Cause I’m so messy. Isn’t it nice?” He teased, she nodded soundlessly. “And here’s the kitchen.” She let out a little gasp. “That’s big enough for a family of six, huh?” He let her look through the rest of the photos, biting the skin on the top of her thumb as she looked. “It’s like a ten minute drive from Mer’s.”

“Link, this is way out of our budget and look, it’s already sold,” she muttered, lingering on the photo of the bedroom that had been staged as a nursery. Link could practically feel her hormones raging.

“Do you like it?” He asked tentatively.

“I mean of course, it’s perfect.” He let out a sigh of relief.

“I was hoping you’d say that cause people were bidding and we were going to lose it. So I kind of bought it.”

“You, what?” She spun around to face him.

“Happy Mother’s Day?”

“You bought a freaking house for Mother’s Day?” Her eyes were wide and teary.

“Yeah, that might have been a bit of a stupid decision to make on my own. I’m realizing that now,” he bit his lip uncomfortably.

“Thank you,” she finally managed to say through tears, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in as close as her baby bump would allow. “I love it. Thank you.”

“I just was in a position where if we put an offer in it would’ve been sold and I got Jackson to facetime me and walk around in it because they were holding an open house and he lives nearby. I’m sorry if you’re freaking out a bit.”

“I mean a bit. When do we move in? I’m not going to be much help.”

“First of June,” he watched the wheels turn inside her head.

“We’re moving in a week before I’m due?” She exclaimed, glancing around at everything that was going to be needed to be packed away. “Link.”

“I know...but it’s going to be fine. Maggie offered to help and I’ll handle everything, okay? I talked to Bailey and she’s going to give me some time off to sort through everything.”

“Okay…” she replied hesitantly, staring at the photos of their place again. “Is this even real? Aw, Link, look at the swing set in the back. Maybe she’ll be a movement baby like Scout and I can swing with her outside while he plays.” Her eyes rested on Scout who was continuing to demolish his lunch.

“And the hammock in the back corner, did you see that?” He answered excitedly. “We can lie in there together when it gets warmer with the kids.”

“It’s perfect,” she said in awe. He leant back in relief, her words obliterating all his fear and looked over his shoulder at his son, who was licking his leftover smoothie off the high chair surface.

“Hey bud, what do you think of a swing set?”

“For me?” Scout exclaimed, his eyes widening with excitement and turning to his mother for confirmation. Amelia nodded, laughing at the reaction that their three year old was displaying to them.

“You did good, babe,” she squeezed his hand gently with a hint of pride. “You did good.”

[heliads]

Stealing Hearts

You and Peter Maximoff both have one thing in common: the two of you have a bad habit of thievery. Will that be the only thing between you, or will you two share one more powerful trait?

masterlist

You can’t help the broad grin as you casually walk through the mall. The stores are packed, which makes it more than easy to brush up against a rich, unsuspecting stranger and “accidentally” snatch their wallets as you pass by. You’ve been stealing things for what feels like forever, and you’ve never once been caught.

Finally, you’re satisfied with your latest acquisitions and stroll out of the mall, blinking in the bright sunlight. You’ve only walked a few feet when you see something that catches your eye in the alluring way that all valuables do- a large, silver ring on the finger of a woman walking by. She’s just a few feet away from you, and when she takes it off to try on a pair of recently purchased gloves you can see all the details carved into the metal. You know at once you must have it.

Casually, you stroll by the woman, hand poised to pluck the ring off the wall where it’s been temporarily placed. Just as you’re about to grab it, though, the strangest thing happens- it disappears right before your eyes. You blink confusedly, yet the ring is gone. Then, across the street, you see a silver-haired boy admiring a ring in his hand. It must be the same one- but how did he get there and back that quickly?

The details don’t matter, you’re too caught up in your annoyance that the boy stole the ring before you did. So, you nonchalantly cross the street, pretending to pay no attention to the silver-haired boy. He looks away for the ring for just a second, which is his mistake. The second his head is turned, you slip the ring from his fingers and walk away, pretending nothing happened. You tuck the ring quietly into your jacket pocket, and continue on down the street.

Soon enough, you hear an angered shout behind you, and suddenly the boy is right in front of you. “You took it, didn’t you? Give it back?” You feign confusion. “Give what back? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The boy glares at you. “Yes, you do. The silver ring, the one I rightfully stole, which is in your jacket pocket.” You look at him thoughtfully. “How about you tell me how you stole a ring from across the street?”

He gives you a questioning look in return, then nods in approval. “Sure. Ring first.” You sigh and drop it into his outstretched palm. “Thank you.” The boy’s voice is dripping with false gratitude. “My name is Peter. Peter Maximoff.” “Y/N L/N.” You answer in return. “Well, Y/N, I was able to steal the ring because I happen to be the best thief on these streets.” You laugh incredulously at his confidence. “Is that why I was able to steal the ring from you?”

Peter pretends to be hurt, and playfully throws an arm around your shoulders. “That was just a coincidence. It usually never happens.” You grin at him. “Yet, it did. And you know what, I have an idea for you.” Peter raises his eyebrows. “What would that be?” You stop walking and spin around to face him. “I say we work together to steal whatever we want. You could use my help in not being completely obvious and maybe you could tell me what your secret is. What do you say?” Peter tilts his head to the sky as if thinking this through, then agrees. “I think you just want to spend time with me.” He winks at your indignant protests, and before you know it, he is gone. 

You feel a sudden weight on your hand and you pull it out of your pocket to find the silver ring glinting on your finger. You look back behind you, but there’s no sign of Peter anywhere. You smile suddenly, admiring the ring. Who is this boy?

Well, it turns out Peter Maximoff is much more interesting than you thought. First of all, he’s a terrible flirt, and you find yourself laughing over many attempts to win you over. Second, the two of you are an incredible pair, and you’re able to relieve many stores and passersby of goods that interest you. Finally, Peter is able to get away with most of his stunts because he is a mutant.

When he first told you, after you’d known him for at least a month, he’d seemed scared to hear your reply. This was most unlike him, as Peter seemed to have this unquenchable positive spirit. The fact that he was staring at his shoes, the usual smirk gone from his face and his usual cocky stance reduced to a mere lean against the wall told you that this was the one truth he was afraid to tell you. Your friendship was very important to him, and he was worried that if you knew he was a mutant, you would leave him out of fear.

Luckily for Peter, this was not at all the case. You had simply swatted him on the shoulder and told him that it made sense that he’d need magic powers to keep up with you. His laughter was indignant and loud as always, but behind it there were the silent words he didn’t have to say: Thank you for understanding.

You and Peter often hung out at each other’s houses, too, on days when the weather was a miserable rain or when neither of you really felt like going anywhere. When Peter opens his front door to reveal you standing on the front step, he assumes it’s just another one of these days, but one look at you tells him otherwise.

You look terrified, breathing heavily like you’ve run a marathon. You’re also wearing a thick jacket, which you have firmly wrapped around you, despite it being the middle of a scorching hot day in August. “What is it?” Peter asks, ushering you inside. You can’t say a word, just shake your head worriedly.

The second you and Peter get down to his basement, you drop down on the sofa, shaking. “Peter, I don’t know what’s happening. It just started today- I was at home, and then-” Peter takes your trembling hands, gently stopping their frantic movement. “What happened? What’s wrong?” You look at him through eyes wide with panic, then take your jacket off.

Instantly, Peter sees the problem. Your entire body is glowing with some strange sort of light, starting from your heart and spreading down your arms. You study your illuminated hands, shaking your head as if you can’t believe what you see. “I don’t know how to control it, it just started happening.” Peter nods slowly. “You’re a mutant now. Like me.”

He sits down next to you, taking your hands in his. “When I first started getting my powers, it freaked me out too. I get it. If you want to control them, you’re going to have to focus.” He delicately closes your eyes with his fingertips. “Just breathe, with me. In and out, slowly.” You let yourself relax, hanging on to the sound of Peter’s voice with all the desperation of a drowning sailor. In and out, in and out.

Before you know it, Peter’s telling you to look at your hands. You open your eyes hesitantly, and are amazed by what you see. The glow has died down from your body, leaving only your hands illuminated. Fascinated, you raise one to eye level, and with just a thought, you’re able to control the strength of the light and even make a tiny sphere of light appear in your hand. You look at Peter, giggling at the sheer joy you feel at being able to control your powers. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” You nod in agreement.

Peter is definitely a big help with your powers. There are many times when you feel like you might accidentally lose control in public, and he’s always there to help you calm down and regain focus.You’re not sure what you would do without him, and to be honest, you don't want to know. 

Your powers actually come in handy during your little shoplifting excursions, too. All it takes is one quick flash of light to block a camera, and you and Peter have already taken everything you want from a store. After one of these occasions, the two of you lie comfortably on the grass, drinking stolen lemonade and admiring your newest belongings.

“You know, I think this whole mutant thing has worked out pretty well for the two of us. We can get whatever we want, and whenever we want it.” You laugh at that. “I’m pretty sure that our abilities can be used for more than just stealing stuff, you know.” Peter rolls his eyes at that, then turns to you, suddenly serious. 

“Actually, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to have. I’ve never been able to get it, though, no matter how fast I run.” You sit up, propping your head up on one arm. “That surprises me. What valuable is that?” A joking smile crosses Peter’s face, and he whispers one word. 

“You.”

He kisses you once, and you’re so surprised that you can’t even say a word. Peter grins once more, then gets up as if he’s about to quickly leave as usual. You grab his shoulder before he can go, and pull him back down to you. “Not so fast, Peter. Maybe you can steal my heart, but you can’t expect that I won’t take yours too.”

[vanderlindemangofarm]

The Van der Linde Gang - Jobs in a Modern AU

I’ve been really inspired to write about this lately and I’d love to hear your takes! These are the occupations that I think each gang member would have in a modern AU. Some were more challenging than others, but hopefully you guys can see where I’m coming from with each! 

Arthur: Film location scout. His natural eye for photography and framing makes Arthur the perfect member of a pre-production team. His no-bullshit approach to everything means he keeps to deadlines, although he’s known to go wandering off into the wilderness for unknown amounts of time. He enjoys the lone working side of his job and finding exactly the right spots that would make the film come to life. He doesn’t always like the films once they’re finished (in fact he’s often bought cinema tickets and walked out half way through, grumbling that it wasn’t worth the popcorn) but he can’t deny the excited buzz he gets every time he gets hired. In his early years as an assistant he met Bertie Mason, a nervous but talented photography intern. Despite an ill-advised hookup after a week joined at the hip they have remained close friends and still go out on shoots together. 

John: landscape gardener. John? Flowers? Yes, alright, I found it hard to believe too. But look, it’s not about the flowers, even if he does get misty-eyed at the sight of a sunflower in the early morning light. It’s about the challenge, the outdoors, and solving problems. After all the renovations he did to his house and garden (some more successful than others) John found how much satisfaction he got from digging and reshaping and planting. Don’t get me wrong, he’s often without a shirt, even in the colder months, much to the delight of some and the horror of others. He always makes friends with the household pets and is wonderful with the kids, always dropping his task to throw a frisbee around for a bit or cheekily accept an ice cold glass of lemonade from their mothers. Whenever he drives past one of his projects he feels himself glowing with pride - “I did that!”. 

Dutch: philosophy lecturer. As always, late with Starbucks. Will he actually grade your essay? Will it mysteriously disappear? Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it? Sitting precariously on the very edge of his desk, leather jacket hanging off his shoulders and losing his balance every 15 minutes, Dr Van der Linde is nothing short of a wonder. For the love of all that is holy, do not get him started on Kant. Kant has no place here. You want to talk about your precious Kant? Get your butt down to Dr O’Driscoll’s class, he has plenty to say about Kant. Perhaps a little too fond of Socrates. Plato who? Completely illegible handwriting and definitely sleeping with several members of the faculty. But somehow his students always walk away with excellent grades. At the end of each term Dutch takes everyone out to a local bar for drinks, insists on buying tequila which no one really fancies at 11am. Claims to ride a motorcycle called The Count which no one has actually seen. Impossible to hate, and he writes everyone great references for their summer internships. 

Hosea: social worker. In a crisis, there’s no one better to knock on your door. Hosea has seen it all and he’ll see it all again, but that doesn’t stop him from treating every single case he gets with the upmost respect and care. His no-nonsense approach to his work means he gets things done, but he never sacrifices his compassion. He mostly works with teenagers and has a way of being able to connect to each individual without coming across as patronising. He’s been in the field for over two decades and is an invaluable mentor for any newcomers, always willing to share a word or two of advice or be a shoulder to cry on. 

Javier: guitar teacher and music therapist. During his worst years, Javier’s guitar was his lifeline. And he wants to help others find their lifeline, too. He works on a freelance basis, mainly going into mental health hospitals, schools and prisons. He runs workshops focusing on guitar playing, but brings other instruments (mainly percussion) to try too. He’s a gentle teacher, always with a joke in his back pocket for when you need it most. He has nicknames for everyone and remembers everything they’ve ever told him. He’s patient and never lets anyone feel bad for making a mistake. Javier also runs an after-school guitar club at the local middle school alongside playing his own music at gigs whenever he can. No, he doesn’t reply to DMs no matter how thirsty they are. 

Sadie: self-defense instructor. After surviving an attack several years ago, Sadie used her ferocity to get her qualification in self-defense to teach other women how to fight back should they need to. Her husband Jake helps out in her classes, happily allowing himself to be thrown around and slammed onto the mat as many times as required. Her students are terrified of her in the best and nicest way. Sadie also volunteers at a women’s refuge, providing emergency care and taking phone calls. 

Charles: environmental campaign manager. Charles has always been drawn to charities and started doing voluntary work for Greenpeace when he was at university, securing an internship with them in Canada which led to a full time job. Whilst Charles mainly hosts meetings and organises events, he also works closely with elementary schools and runs workshops with outdoor activities, crafts and music. Last week they made bird feeders! It was awesome. He’s also a keen activist and regularly meets up with Javier to go to protests and community events, most recently for BLM. 

Micah: motorcycle mechanic. Micah is massively invested in motorcycle culture and treats his beloved bike better than his own mother, if he still spoke to her. Although he pretends not to care, fixing bikes is his greatest passion and almost looks...happy when he’s doing it? Maybe? He likes knowing more than the people who stop by his shop and makes sure they know it. Occasionally he leaves his number on a scrap of paper inside women’s handbags when they’re not looking but for some reason none of them call. Like it or not, he’s incredibly skilled and will have your motorcycle singing a tune if that’s what you want. Euphemism? Of course not. 

Abigail: nurse. She was so shy when she realised she wanted to pursue nursing - would people laugh at her? Was she too impatient, too nagging, too shrill? Her dyslexia always put her off going into further education and she was always discouraged by her parents. But with lots of encouragement from Hosea (who helped her to fill out her applications and other forms) and her friends, Abigail went to university in her 30′s to get her degree. She graduated top of her class and now works full time in her local hospital, based mostly in the emergency room. From drunken brawlers to tearful children and grumpy old men with lumbago, Abigail has learnt to keep her cool and to have faith in her own ability. 

Molly: holistic therapist and masseuse. It took years to get that bastard of a philosopher out of her head (and out of her bed - damn those happy hour drinks “for old times’ sake”), but she’s finally free. Molly radiates a kindness that few took to the time to see, and she wanted to take strength from her past struggles to help others who may need someone to listen, just as she did. Molly took a bunch of online courses in various holistic therapies, including aromatherapy and massage, as this was something she had always been interested in. She runs a tiny clinic on a quiet street, the rooms filled with sunshine and the scent of geraniums. She also has a quite popular ASMR YouTube channel, Emerald Eyes ASMR, which she shyly admits just reached 500k subscribers. Her most popular video, ‘Irish Girl Helps You Fall Asleep (soft spoken, tapping, mouth sounds)’ just reached over a million hits. 

Kieran: veterinarian specialising in equine care. Much like Abigail, Kieran didn’t like the idea of going back into education. He’d had a rough time of it as a teenager, dropping out of high school early and working a string of menial jobs for the next decade. They paid his rent, but he still felt poor. His favourite job, however, was working at a stable. The horses made him feel calm and he found that he could read them better than most people. He went to the library and read as much as he could about them. From there, he got himself an apprenticeship which paved the way for him to earn his degree in veterinary science. He smiled so hard in his graduation photo his eyes disappeared into his cheeks. He travels all over the local countryside, visiting farms and ranches to care for the horses. His confidence picked up after the first few blunders, and little by little he’s saving up to buy his own ranch one day. 

Lenny: political science student. You know that kid who always looks amazing, even in 9am lectures? Yeah, that’s not Lenny, but he’s sat just behind. See him? Yep, the one rubbing sleep from his eyes as he pushes through the effects of another all-nighter. It’s not due to procrastination, but from perfectionism. He spends hour agonising over references, appendixes and even titles. One time he was so tired he signed his work “Ynnel”. He’s completely in love with his course and relishes every class he takes. Oh, he’s taking Dutch’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ module by the way. Sitting in the front row, middle seat, directly in front of Dutch, his eyes glinting wickedly. Poor Dutch. Lenny has a counterpoint for absolutely everything and can barely stifle his laughter as Dutch gets more and more flustered. He’s been dating Jenny Kirk, an English Lit student, for the past few months and it’s going well. So well in fact, that he might stop hiding his Doctor Who merchandise every time she comes to his dorm room. 

Tilly: business student. Tilly started university at the same time as Lenny and they still always go to the library together, rolling their eyes at each other over their morning peppermint lattes. Tilly is at the forefront of any and all on-campus activism. Think of Sam from Dear White People - that’s our Tilly. She wears her Ravenclaw scarf all autumn and winter long and posts scathing Instagram stories about the cafeteria food. But she’s powerfully kind and very ambitious, taking on a part time job tutoring kids with dyslexia in their reading and writing. 

Susan: midwife. Think having a baby is scary? Try crossing Nurse Grimshaw. She’s here now, and that baby is coming out of you one way or another. She’ll hold your hand through thick and thin but if you dare say “I can’t do it” one more time she’ll unleash hell. Susan will make sure everyone has a job to do. Partner just standing there like a lemon? Not on her watch. She’s harsh but kind to her trainees and will always offer a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, but there’s a time and place for slacking and it’s not on her labour ward. 

Trelawny: talent agent. Our Josiah is cunning, infuriatingly charismatic and with an eye for the best of the best - what else could he do so effortlessly? He’ll wrangle you a 10 second role as a latrine cleaner in a non-profit film and he’ll still make you feel like the next DiCaprio. You’re a diamond, don’t you know? Of course you could nab Elphaba, we’ll worry about the singing later. How do you feel about cat food commercials? No no, it’s not pornography, it really is cat food this time - he double checked. On top of this, he knows everyone in the business. No, really. He can’t move 3 feet down Broadway without someone booming his name. The tone of said boom depends, of course, but who hasn’t been caught with his bottom out in that director’s wife’s en-suite? 

Sean: outdoor activity centre instructor. You mean you can actually get paid to swim in lakes, ride ziplines through the forest and eat roasted marshmallows?! Sean couldn’t believe his ears. But it was true, and he’s living his best life. He may be on his penultimate warning for unruly behaviour, but he knows he could never really get fired. How could they? Everyone loves him. And to his credit, he’s a fantastic instructor, especially with kids. Everything from canoeing to caving, wild swimming to climbing, Sean has mastered it all and he always makes it fun. No one is allowed to feel left out or silly for not being able to do something. Sean has a way of making everyone feel included, even if you can only make it up the first few rungs of the ladder. Hey, that’s still off the ground! He once knew this feller Bill who cried because a moth flew into his face. You’re doing fine. 

Mary-Beth: librarian and YA author. Sweet Mary-Beth, how could she be anywhere else but surrounded by books? She adores her job at her small, local library and is always looking for ways to make it even better. She often gets tangled up in the stories she reads whilst organising shelves, but it’s quiet enough most days that she’s rarely caught. She loves helping people find their books or recommending her favourites. She also runs the toddler storytime groups and a writing club for older kids. Of course, she’s also writing her own books. The first of her ‘Valentine Mysteries’ books made a modest profit and she’s excited to write more about the adventures of Leslie Dupont. 

Karen: actress. Realising that she had a knack for accents and even after an especially successful high school lead role as Roxy Hart, Karen didn’t really acknowledge her would-be passion for acting for a long time. But she used her talents to get herself and her friends into X-rated films, dive bars and successfully pull off dozens of prank calls. It wasn’t until one of her friends was going to an open-call audition for a short film and wanted someone to go with her that Karen had her epithany. She was cast on the spot, much to the dismay of her friend. Since then, she’s been in a handful of arthouse films, a commercial here and there, and recently enjoyed a short run as Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a small theatre downtown. Does she want fame and fortune? Honestly, she hasn’t really thought about it. Right now, she’s just enjoying the ride. And the phone numbers left for her at front of house from many admirers. 

Strauss: financial loan adviser. Oh boy, perhaps you saw this one coming. Then again, maybe not. Old Leopold isn’t quite the two-pronged-tongued eldritch horror people often mistake him for. In fact, he actually advises people against loan sharks. He had his fair share of debts y’see and he genuinely doesn’t want anyone else to go through the same thing. He’s not exactly sweet and cuddly, but he might let you have a free pen if you call by his office. I mean, technically they’re not free but...never mind, just take it. 

Bill: plumber. It was purely accidental that Bill bashed his way into his career. No, really. His sink was blocked and after an hour of poking and prodding the pipes he started hitting the poor thing with a spanner out of pure frustration, cursing all the way. To his shock, it worked, and he suddenly had running water again. What shocked him more is that he realised he wanted to know how. So, he bought a book. And he read the book. And one thing led to another, and now he’s the proud owner of Williamson Plumbing Inc. The money is very good, but for Bill that’s not it. You have to understand that for him, it’s the act itself of fixing something that brings Bill immense satisfaction. And Bill isn’t used to knowing more about something - anything - than those around him. For the first time perhaps in his life, he can sit down, solve a problem, and know that he’s done a good job. 

Swanson: AA group leader. After getting completely sober almost a decade ago and staying that way, Orville wanted to give something back to the people who had helped him out so greatly. Becoming a volunteer to help those who were trapped where he was seemed like the only path, and it felt so right. Orville is there in meetings, making coffee, handing out donuts and training new volunteers. If anyone wants to talk about their faith he’s all ears, but he never pushes it as a cure-all in any situation. Orville’s sobriety has also meant that he’s learnt to make the most phenomenal mocktails. 

Pearson: grocery shop manager and cooking teacher. Simon has his small grocery shop on the edge of town which has a wide range of regular customers. But he wanted to do more, so he set up a small class to teach fellow veterans how to cook. His wife helps out, and they grow the ingredients together in their garden and down at the allotment. It’s just an therapeutic for him as it is for his students, as he’s only just realising how much he wants to talk about his time in the navy. 

Uncle: unknown. For the longest time, everyone thought Uncle worked at one of the worst dive bars in town, as whenever they stumbled in for a nightcap he was there, behind the bar, happy as a pig in shit. Turns out that he just started going there one night and no one could get him to leave. And so every evening he’ll appear like a phantom, sit himself in the half-broken chair behind the bar (clearly labelled “not for customer use”), order the cheapest beer on the menu and sit there until midnight. No one can understand how he gets the means to live as he ragingly denies receiving any government handouts despite his lumbago. Claims to be a veteran but hasn’t fought in any wars anyone has heard of. 

[themoonlitsojourner]

Chapter 2: Need you here ‘cause I’m a mess

Emotions are messy, unruly, and a complete mystery to Raven. But she can't leave her friend to endure this alone. Not once she sees the state Gar's in.

Emptiness. One word, but a whole world of hurt behind it. How can Gar feel nothing and the throb of his bleeding heart at the same time?

‘How.’ It’s the only question on his mind.

How could she? Did the months of teamwork and friendship, of welcoming Tara into their home with every reassurance and smile mean nothing to her?

Gar bites down on his lip and tastes blood.

Didn’t their nights spent stargazing, their shared glances and whispered secrets mean anything to her, when they meant the world to him? Was every shy brush of her hand against his fake? Was every kiss a trick?

He’ll never know. The worst part isn’t the betrayal. It’s the fact that she’s never coming back. She’s never coming home.

A scene flashes through Gar’s mind, the memory that plays over and over every time he closes his eyes.

A katana piercing the bandages wrapped around Tara’s stomach, the vicious twist as Slade yanks the blade from the last wound he will ever give his apprentice. Tara’s shocked expression as she collapses, Garfield’s terrified cry as he cradles his first love in his arms. As he watches her bleed out with every throbbing heartbeat and gasping breath. As Tara dies in his arms.

In just a few hours, she betrayed him and died. He lost her twice that day.

The anger Garfield worked so hard to stoke and feed fizzles out, replaced by the sharp ache of pure loss tearing through his chest like a wild beast, ripping into his heart and lungs until he can’t breathe. Why couldn’t he save her? Why wasn’t he enough?

Tears roll down his cheeks, soaking his fur as his shoulders tremble. He wants to stop, to take control of himself and shut down. Anything to stop the pain.

Anything to stop missing her.

~~~

“He’s been in there all morning.” Richard sets the TV remote down and sends a worried glance at the hallway leading to the team’s living quarters. “Do you think we should…?”

“He doesn’t wanna talk about it.” Victor passes an empty soda bottle from hand to hand, never once looking up. He tried to reach out to Garfield again yesterday. When he returned, his expression told the others exactly how it went.

Raven’s gaze flicks to Koriand’r as the redhead sighs loudly and props her chin on her hands. “There is truly nothing we can do to help?” She sends Richard a pleading look, undoubtedly wanting to make Garfield another present. It’s a sweet thought, but ultimately futile. Just like everything else they’ve tried.

“Not if he won’t let us,” Victor replies. He finally lifts his head, turning to catch Raven’s eyes. “You tried yet?”

“I’ve been giving him his space.” He wouldn’t want to see me. Not if he turned away Richard and Kori. Not if he won’t even talk to Victor.

“It has been two days since he has emerged from his room,” Kori points out, voice and thoughts drenched in sorrow. She’s right to be worried.

“I’ll try.” Raven stands. “But I don’t think it will help.”

“Will it hurt?” Victor says quietly, gaze returning to his soda bottle.

The question is rhetorical, of course. Nothing could hurt Garfield any worse than what’s already happened.

With each step toward his room, the pain in Raven’s head grows. She closes her eyes and stops to lean on the wall, bracing herself against the waves of guilt, regret, anger, sorrow. And grief. So much grief, in every shade and variation she’s ever sensed, present all at once in a single boy.

Taking a deep breath, Raven centers herself. She closes the distance to Gar’s room and knocks on the door. No answer. Not even a rustle of movement. If it weren’t for the hurricane of emotion flooding from him, she might think the room was empty.

“Garfield,” she says to the closed door. “It’s Raven.”

Nothing changes. Not with the door and not in his mind.

She didn’t come before because he needed time to process and mourn. But now that she’s here… Garfield’s in too much anguish for her to just turn around and leave. He shouldn’t be alone with this.

“I’m coming in.” Raven’s hand rests on the doorknob for a few seconds, giving him a chance to protest. Silence. She opens the door and steps inside, shutting it quietly behind her.

The room is dim. The only trace of light seeps through the half-shuttered window, filtering between storm clouds and raindrops to drench the room in an even gray. Garfield lies on his side in bed, the covers tangled beneath him. He stares out at the downpour, expression distant and blank. Tired. Empty.

Raven closes her eyes again, just for a moment. Her head pounds, her chest tight and aching with the agony pouring from him like the rain from the sky. She forces herself to open her eyes.

“I don’t wanna get out of bed.” Garfield’s voice breaks the silence, raspy and flat. “I don’t wanna do anything.” His dull eyes trace a raindrop trickling down the glass. “That’s never happened to me before,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry.” Raven’s throat feels thick, like a knot has tied the middle shut, and breathing past it is difficult. Her thoughts slow and blur, a numbness settling upon her. This… this is how Garfield feels. The sensations that plague her mimic the heaviness of grief upon his chest, the darkness of apathy draining the color from his being. This is the extent of his pain.

If Raven had the words to comfort him, she’d give them freely. If she knew how to help, she would stop at nothing. But that is an ability her mentor Azar never taught her. A skill she’s never learned, despite the years spent surrounded by caring, whole people who do know how to soothe and comfort. It’s yet another area where she has failed them.

Dark streaks trail the fur on Gar’s face, marking the path of tears. Another falls as Raven watches.

“Why can’t I just hate her?” he chokes. “Why do I have to miss her?”

“Because you care, despite what she did. Because that’s who you are.” It’s the truth. She knows how to give him that, at least.

Garfield inhales shakily. “Yeah. And it’s how I got hurt.”

Without that openness and trust, you wouldn’t be Garfield. But even if Raven argues, she won’t be able to make him believe. Not when he’s still so deeply wounded.

She searches for something to say as Gar falls silent again. He crosses his arms and pulls his knees to his chest, curling into a fetal position. “There’s so much I never got to tell her,” he whispers to himself.

Watching him feels like an intrusion and there’s nothing she can do to help. Raven turns to leave and give him his privacy, but his voice stops her.

“Please.”

When she glances back, Garfield is looking at her for the first time since she stepped into the room. His emerald green eyes, normally so full of joy and mirth, are dark and pained. They reflect the ache throbbing inside him, the one pulsing in Raven’s head.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers. “I don’t want to be alone.”

His words hit Raven like a shot to the chest.

After Tara left, in more ways than one, after what she did to him… He’s afraid to be left alone again. And he’s asking for Raven, of all people, to stay.

The pressure in her head builds until she wants to scream. “Let me get you something to eat.” She needs an escape.

Garfield’s shoulders drop. His head falls back to the pillow, eyes returning to the gray sky. “Sure.”

Just like that, any emotion in his voice disappears as he slips back under the numbness. Another dagger pushed into Raven’s heart. She shuts the door behind her with shaking hands, working to calm her breathing. His pain, his grief… It’s too much.

She walks to the kitchen without thought. Kori looks up hopefully as soon as she enters, Richard and Victor following suit.

“How is he?” Richard asks.

“Not good.” Raven wrenches the fridge open, searching for something Garfield would never turn down, not even in his current state. “He’s depressed.”

The word lies sour and dark on her tongue, the reality of it sending dread rolling over her. Sunny, ridiculously optimistic Garfield, depressed. Beast Boy, the light of the team, caught in the dark of his own mind.

Her fist slams down on the kitchen counter with a crack. “Curse you, Tara,” Raven hisses.

Sharp pain travels up her nerves, the sensation delayed by her anger. Feeling her friend’s wide eyes on her, Raven snatches a container of last night’s garlic tofu and rice out of the fridge and marches from the room.

No one will ever put Garfield through this again. Not on her watch. If she’s the one he’s reaching out to, then Raven will do whatever it takes to make him whole. To bring back the smile to her friend’s face and the light to his eyes. If it means hours of extra meditation afterwards to maintain her control, then so be it. It’s more than a fair price.

“I brought garlic stir-fry.” Raven sets the container on his bookshelf, next to a picture frame turned face down. Her gaze lingers there. It isn’t hard to guess who’s in the photo.

“You came back.” Gar glances at her, then away when she faces him. “I thought that was just your excuse to get away from the mess in my head.” He makes a finger gun and taps it against his temple. “Not that I blame you.”

A shudder runs down Raven’s spine. Her mouth goes dry. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m just joking.” His voice is small and quiet.

The dark part of Raven is angry that Tara will never see what she did to him, the shell she reduced him to. Gar cares more than anyone else can ever hope to, and Tara used that. Troubled or not, a victim of manipulation or not, nothing can ever change that truth.

Raven pushes the darkness back and locks it away in a far corner of her mind. Tara is not her concern now. Garfield is.

“How can I help?”

Gar blinks. “You can’t. Not unless you can take away the pain, like when I get beat up on a mission.” He laughs once, a bitter huff.

Raven steps forward. “I can’t.” She sits next to him on the bed. “But I can share it.”

Garfield’s eyes widen and he jerks to sitting, showing the first bit of life she’s seen in two days. “Raven, no.” His ears droop, his brow furrowing. “That’ll hurt you.”

“If you can handle it, then so can I.” The situation calls for comfort she doesn’t know how to give. But her friends do. So she mimics the way she’s seen Victor reassure Kori and cups Gar’s cheek, fingertips finding still damp fur. She lets her concern show, her lips falling into a frown. “And I’m more worried about you, Gar.”

His eyes glimmer. Just a spark, for just a second. “You called me Gar.” Slowly, he shakes his head, gaze still fixed on Raven. “You never use nicknames.”

Despite her teammates’ best efforts to the contrary, Raven always uses their proper first names. It makes it easier to pretend she isn’t as emotionally involved, as attached to them as she knows she is. It’s silly, honestly. She uses the nicknames in her head anyway.

“Yes,” Raven confesses. “I did.”

“I knew you thought it was cool,” Gar mumbles, curling up on his side again. But this time, he lays his head in Raven’s lap.

She freezes for a moment, scrambling to comprehend this new turn of events. Her hand ends up in his hair, so she tentatively smooths it, careful to avoid the knots. She’s never been comfortable with touch. It’s a strange and unfamiliar sensation to her, having experienced it only rarely on Azarath. But she tries to set that aside now.

“Promise you won’t leave.” Garfield’s vulnerable like she’s never seen him. So small and afraid compared to who he usually is. Or maybe he’s always hidden it well, even from her. “I just… I need…”

“I need you here.” His thoughts say what he can’t. “I need you.”

No one has ever needed Raven before. All her life, she has brought this world only darkness and the promise of death and destruction at the hand of her father. But somehow, Gar sees something different. That ability to find the best in people, regardless of who they are… it’s his greatest quality.

“I promise,” Raven answers. “I won’t leave.”

Closing her eyes, she bows her head and lowers the walls around her mind.

Emotions seep in, flowing from the broken boy with his head in her lap. Forceful, potent feelings, far stronger than any she’s ever experienced through her empathy before. They whip through her mind in blinding colors, mingling with and amplifying each other, complex and interconnected. When she lets herself appreciate them, they’re almost beautiful, despite the monumental effort it takes to keep them from overwhelming her.

Raven breathes carefully and slowly, the tightness in her chest returning threefold. Inhale… Exhale… The sound is her point of focus as she works to channel the pain from Gar and release it into the void her powers come from, allowing herself to be a conduit.

A hand reaches up to touch her cheek, the contact pulling her mind back to this world. Gentle fingers wipe away a single tear that managed to escape her control. “Rae…”

Raven opens her eyes to see Garfield watching her with concern. Just two days ago, he endured tragedy that no one should ever have to experience, trauma that would break most anyone. Yet he’s concerned for her.

“Get some sleep.” Raven brushes Gar’s hair from his face and he obediently closes his eyes, too exhausted to fight. She feels his tight muscles ease as she pulls the brunt of his emotions into herself, taking the edge off his pain.

The technique is beyond dangerous and it hurts. But if she can offer Gar any comfort, she won’t withhold it. No matter the ferocity of the storm within her.

As Garfield’s breathing deepens and he drifts into slumber for what she suspects is the first time since Tara died, Raven repeats her promise.

“I won’t leave you.”

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 3)

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(Next fic in series: The Sound of the Sword)