#something tells me I’m gonna lose my mind even more with context like I’ve heard rumblings of an August kiss????!!!!!

[jemmo]

you’re telling me p’aof gave us a first kiss on a rooftop AGAIN and i can’t watch it until tonight?!!???!!!

[todomitoukei]

Japanese vs. English Todoroki - A 302 Comparison Pt. 2

With volume 31 coming out tomorrow, we now got these leaked panels that have been added to chapter 302 and will be included in the volume release. And because we’re all impatient, I decided to already do a translation for them and talk a bit about these panels. If you haven’t already, you can read my translation comparison for the whole chapter here, which I wrote after the chapter originally came out, so this is gonna serve as the continuation of it with only the new lines included and explained.

First of all, we get these panels:

「ねえ。今何が見えてるの。その目をやめて。その目をやめて。その目をやめて」

「ねえ ; nee 」-> hey

「今 ; ima 」-> now

「何 ; nani 」-> what

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「見えてる ; mieteru 」-> can see

「の ; no 」-> question marker particle seeking an explanation

「その ; sono 」-> that

「目 ; me 」-> look; stare; gaze

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「やめて ; yamete 」-> stop

= “Hey, what can you see? Stop that stare. Stop that stare. Stop that stare.”

This is an incredible addition - maybe Horikoshi read @transhawks meta on the importance of eyes in the Todoroki family and felt inspired to go back and add even more of that into the chapter.

I believe those panels will be included towards the end of the argument between Touya and Rei; at least considering the Touya panel is from that scene and would explain the panel that originally followed showing Rei, more importantly, her eyes -

These new panels seem to explain why seeing Touya stare at her intensely like that terrified her so much. It’s clearer now - although it should’ve been clear before already but obviously, Horikoshi knows his audience - that her near-mental-breakdown-expressions when looking at Touya or when looking at Shouto during the accident, are all triggered due to the abuse she was facing, with those eyes reminding her of Endeavor, her abuser. Again: No, she was not suffering due to the devil incarnate Touya, as some would like to claim. This is all the result of years of abuse and the stare is what triggers her fight or flight response the most.

Next, we get this part (picture on the left is the volume release; picture on the right the original version):

「私じゃ止められない」

「私 ; watashi 」-> I

「じゃ ; ja 」-> topic marker particle

「止められない ; tomerarenai 」-> cannot stop

= “I can’t stop.”

While Rei’s line is the same as before, referring to the fact that she can’t stop Touya from going training and holding on to his desire to become a hero, the panel is completely different. While before we only got a glance of her eye (as seen in the highlighted section in the right picture), which already showed us that she was crying and absolutely terrified - this time we see her whole face, which emphasizes that terrified feeling even further. What’s more important, though, is that Horikoshi added a panel and line for Endeavor right after:

「おまえがやれ！俺は見ない！！」

「おまえ ; omae 」-> you

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker

「やれ ; yare 」-> to do (imperative form)

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「見ない ; minai 」-> won’t watch

= “You, do it! I won’t watch!!”

As simple of a line as this seems to be, I’ve been thinking about the meaning of it all day. First of all, it’s important to note that Japanese doesn’t exactly have a present tense, but rather a non-past tense (there is also a present progressive tense to indicate something happening/being done right now). The non-past tense can be used for the present and the future so minai can mean “don’t watch” or “won’t watch” depending on the context.

So I’ve been thinking - going back to the whole eye theme, we also have Touya say “watch me” over and over again, even now as Dabi, he continues to tell his family to watch him. He tells them because he doesn’t feel seen. Endeavor even told Rei (in the original version already) that she shouldn't take her eyes off Touya and that he hired someone to help out because he was too busy with work. Even when Rei told him that Touya just wants Endeavor to see him, Endeavor’s response to this is that he can only show him the world of heroes. With that in mind, this line now not only shows that he can't see him, but that he won't. That’s why he tells Rei “do it!” after she tells him she can’t stop Touya. Endeavor won’t allow her to give up. She has to do it because he won’t. He outright refuses to watch Touya despite being asked to on multiple occasions.

Moving on to the present and the family discussing their situation we get this small change here:

「。。。あなたは行かなかった」

「あなた ; anata 」-> you

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「行かなかった ; inakatta 」-> didn’t go

= “...you didn’t go.”

The only difference between this line then and now is that it leaves out そして (= and then) at the beginning of the phrase.

And finally, the change we all knew was coming is the timeline error that was in the original version of the chapter, where Rei was saying that Touya disappeared before she was hospitalized. As announced by the official bnha Twitter account shortly after the chapter first came out, the timeline as stated by Fuyumi in chapter 250 is the correct one. So now in the volume release, we get this line:

「私は病院に隔離されそして燈矢の事を聞いた。。。完全に心が壊れてしまった。。。」

「私 ; watashi 」-> I

「は ; wa 」-> topic marker particle

「病院 ; byouin 」-> hospital

「に ; ni 」-> at

「隔離され ; kakuri sare 」-> to be isolated

「そして ; soshite 」-> and then

「燈矢 ; touya 」-> Touya

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「事 ; koto 」-> incident

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「聞いた ; kiita 」-> heard

「完全に ; kanzen ni 」-> completely

「心 ; kokoro 」-> heart

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「壊れてしまった ; kowareteshimatta 」-> was regrettably broken (壊れる+しまう)

= “I was isolated at the hospital and heard about Touya’s incident… my heart broke completely.”

As mentioned before, a verb + shimau means either that something has happened completely or regrettably and since the word completely already appeared in the phrase it’s obvious that this is something regrettable (if it wasn’t obvious from the content of the phrase); showing that losing her son and not having been around him at the end really hurt and probably even made her blame herself for not having been able to save her own son.

And I’m assuming it will replace this highlighted panel:

Aside from getting the timeline error fixed, we get some additional panels and lines that highlight even further just how terrifying it was to live with Endeavor and that Rei’s breakdown was caused by him and not one of her kids. The state the family is in right now and the whole Dabi situation - all of that is a result of a selfish man who couldn’t even be bothered to look at his own child; whose own insecurities made his whole family suffer and continue to do so even now. It was the terror in his eyes and his inability to use those eyes to just see his kid that got them to where they are now, which additionally shows exactly what needs to be done to fix this mess: for them to finally see Touya.

[libraryofloveletters]

Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context) 

Category: fluff for the most part. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do. 

-----

Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication. 

Letters had always been more of your thing. 

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him. 

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30. 

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter. 

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving. 

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment. 

September 30th.

‘Hi baby! 

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon. 

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ? 

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :) 

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you. 

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd. 

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure.  I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back. 

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor. 

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming) 

Peace out, 

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind. 

November 4th. 

‘Dear Evan, 

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you. 

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter. 

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up. 

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer. 

Anyways, signing off for now. 

Yours always, y/n. 

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet. 

December 21st. 

‘Hey y/n, 

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me. 

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now. 

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun. 

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now. 

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description. 

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ? 

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n. 

Peace out, 

Evan. 

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th. 

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it. 

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan, 

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ? 

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go. 

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories. 

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had. 

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah) 

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present? 

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country. 

February 12th. 

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it,  a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name. 

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas. 

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me. 

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell) 

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ? 

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it. 

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it. 

Peace out, 

Buck’ 

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash. 

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’ 

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there. 

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August. 

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it. 

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now. 

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall. 

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that. 

Except, she was still busy. 

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile. 

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n. 

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties. 

A fresh start. 

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into. 

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates. 

Buck’s last letter to you. 

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing. 

‘Dear Buck, 

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change. 

Guess where I decided to go ? 

Did you guess yet? 

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ? 

LA! 

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.) 

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ? 

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first. 

Yours always, y/n.’ 

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye. 

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor. 

The unit number was the only difference. 

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in. 

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address. 

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall. 

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years. 

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you. 

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door. 

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door. 

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?” 

“I am, who are you ?” 

“Y/n.” 

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled. 

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar. 

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer. 

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter. 

“Water’s fine, thanks” 

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you. 

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile. 

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?” 

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose” 

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums. 

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before. 

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?” 

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact. 

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer. 

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?” 

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.” 

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles. 

“Buck, we live in the same building.” 

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other. 

“Okay.” 

----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner  @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez​ @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13​ @artemishunter18​ @anxiousblanketqueen​

[sunwoo-hoo]

↣ school blues

↳ a/n: here it is anon! i hope you don’t mind i altered the request a little bit. this was seriously one of my favorite requests to write so far so i genuinely hope you like it just as much as i do! 

↳ requested? yes

↳ genre: fluffyyy + hint of humour 

↳ send me a request here! 

↳ word count: 1.6k

↳ summary: haruto x female reader (best friends) highschool au where you both are oblivious to each other’s feelings until a friend points it out. 

「 7:00 AM 」 You jolted awake hearing the annoying sound of the alarm clock. You couldn’t believe it, summer was officially over and it was time to go back to school. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sure, you hated waking up really early in the mornings, and sometimes even skipping breakfast just so you could have those extra 10 minutes of sleep. But you realized it was all worth it when you got to see him. Watanabe Haruto your best friend for nearly 6 years. Was today finally the day you would tell him how you feel? No, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to destroy any possibility of ruining your friendship. He was everything you could ever want in a best friend, loyal, funny, always looking out for you. 

Could you really risk it? 

You sighed looking at your alarm clock when you realized you were staring at your ceiling for nearly 5 minutes. You reluctantly got out of bed getting ready to start your day. Once you showered, brushed your hair and teeth you decided to put on subtle makeup. I wonder if he’ll notice. Once you finished your morning routine you quickly gave yourself a once over in the mirror before leaving walking to Haruto’s house. 

You had to admit, even though school was back in session you couldn’t deny how autumn was one of your favorite seasons. The crispiness in the air, how the leaves felt under your feet walking. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, it was perfect.

Finally reaching Haruto’s house you gently knocked on the door when his mother answered. 

“Oh! [name] don’t you look nice” she said smiling warmly at you. “Haruto should be down any moment, I almost had to drop a bucket of water on him this morning because he didn’t want to wake up” she blurted laughing. Joining in with her laughter you couldn’t help but think of being in that same situation when you woke up. 

When he finally came down the stairs you couldn’t help but stare at him. You were in shock on just how much he changed over the summer growing in at least 6 inches in height, nearly towering over you. His black hair was the perfect length resting against his forehead. His skin a milky white with no flaws what so ever. His lips which were not to big and not too small. The healthiest shade of pink. He was perfect.

“Earth to [name]! C’mon we’re gonna be late” he chuckled waving his hand in front of your face. You blinked losing your train of thought. 

“Oh r-right” you mumbled

He grabbed your hand without a second thought pulling you out the front door as you faintly heard his mother shouting “Have a great day!” 

You finally made it to school when you both saw your mutual friend Park Jeongwoo who you met through Haruto.

He was just as handsome with his tanned skin and charming smile but he was always like a brother to you. 

“It’s about time you two made it, class nearly starts in 15 minutes”  said Jeongwoo.

“We would’ve been here earlier but [name] was day dreaming again” Haruto smirked

You nudged him with your elbow “I was not!” you nearly shouted. He raised his hands up in defeat “Sure... whatever you say” he replied sarcastically pushing your buttons. You were about to retort with a snide comment back when Jeongwoo interrupted you both.

“I swear you two are like an old married couple” you glared while Haruto simply shrugged his shoulders. 

You then heard the warning bell letting you know that you had to be in your first class in 5 minutes. You quickly said your goodbyes to Haruto since you and Jeongwoo had your first class together. 

Once Haruto was out of sight and ear shot you pinched Jeongwoo “Ah-Hey! What was that for?” he grumbled rubbing the spot where you pinched.

“Why would you say that in front of him?” you hissed. Realizing what you meant Jeongwoo replied “[name..] it’s been nearly 6 years you have to tell him how you feel before someone else’s does” he reasoned.

You sighed looking down at the ground “I just can’t okay? I don’t want to ruin what we have”. 

His eyes soften at you, he was in a tough spot. You and Haruto were his best friends, you two just needed that little nudge. He smirked at himself when he realized what he needed to do. 

You panicked when you heard the bell, you were officially late to class now. You quickly grabbed Jeongwoo sleeve and made a run for it. 

「 11:30 AM 」 Your morning classes were one big blur, but you smiled when you heard the bell ring indicating that it was lunch time. You quickly went to your locker to exchange your books for your next classes before heading to lunch. Doing it early so that you didn’t have to run straight after eating. Opening your locker your eyes nearly missed the piece of paper that fell out onto the ground. You were confused but picked it up anyway opening it. 

「 Dear, [name] meet me by the courtyard after school by 4:00 there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. 」  

Could it be? Was it really Haruto? There’s no way, did he know your feelings? But how did he find out? your mind was going a mile a minute until (speak of the devil) you heard Haruto interrupting your thoughts. 

“[Name!!] this is the second time today I’ve had to bring you back to reality. Do I need to take you to the nurse?” he teased 

You quickly crumpled the piece of paper in your locker before closing it shut. You rolled your eyes playfully “No, I’m just thinking about what I want for lunch” you replied.

He smirked “Me too, I’m starving let’s go. Jeongwoo already got us a table”. 

What was suppose to be an easy going lunch with your two best friends your mind could only think of the note you received in your locker. Your body becoming extremely anxious. You were hungry before but now food was the last thing on your mind. 

Haruto definitely took notice because once lunch was over he handed you a ziploc bag of fruit saying “You didn’t eat anything the whole lunch period. Are you sure your okay [name]?” he asked genuinely worried about you.    

You gave him a faint smile “I promise I’m okay, it’s just first day jitters” you lied. 

Haruto didn’t believe you in the slightest but he knew whatever it was you would tell him when you were ready. He gently moved a strand of hair that had gotten loose during the hectic day behind your ear before replying “If you say so [name] just promise me you’ll eat some fruit in your next class okay?” he pleaded 

You looked up at him and smiled brightly “Of course”

“Good, c’mon I’ll walk you to your next class”. 

「 4:00 PM 」 You couldn’t believe it you made it through the end of the first day back to school. You wanted to jump in excitement but it also meant you were finally going to face your secret admirer. What if it wasn’t even Haruto? That would’ve been the worst case scenario. Should you even go? No, enough was enough. You decided to face your feelings if it was Haruto or not.  

You waited until most of the students cleared out for the day before heading to the courtyard. You sat by a nearby bench waiting  apprehensively. Your heart started to race, your palms were starting to become sweaty and that’s when you heard him.

“[name?]” you turned your head and saw him. It was Haruto. You smiled “So it was you?” you wondered.

He looked at you confusedly “What do you mean? I got a letter saying that a girl liked me but I thought it was joke” 

Your then felt your heart sank, but none of it made sense. You got the same letter but the context was entirely different. 

You got up and walked towards him, it was now or never. No backing out now. 

“Haruto... I do like you, hell, I love you. Ever since we met I knew you were the one for me. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime. You’re who I think of the minute I wake up and my last thought before I go to bed. I-I..” you rambled 

He smirked grabbing your hand pulling you close, your mind couldn’t even comprehend when he leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours. It was everything you thought your first kiss would be. Sweet, passionate, comfortable. Usually first kisses were horrible and awkward but with Haruto everything felt right. He brought his free hand up to your neck deepening the kiss. 

When you finally broke apart you looked up at him. 

“I’ve always loved you too [name]... I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I didn’t think you felt the same way” he revealed.

Hearing those words your body finally felt relaxed you softly laughed at him. He smiled in return.

He was about to give you another kiss until you both heard the sound of clapping coming from the trees.

You both whipped your head and saw none other than Jeongwoo walking towards you and Haruto. That’s when you realized it, hitting you like a bolt of lightning it was Jeongwoo. 

“IT WAS YOU?!” you screamed at Jeongwoo 

He laughed and responded “Of course it was me [name] you both are so oblivious. Aren’t you glad I gave you both the push you needed?”

You only glared at him while Haruto playfully shoved Jeongwoo. 

Next thing you knew all three of you started to laugh, Haruto pulling you in close once more.

You couldn’t believe how from one school day you got everything you had always hoped for. Looking at both your best friends you thought to yourself. 

This was going to be your best year yet.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* © sunwoo-hoo 2 0 2 1  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[pomp-and-circumstance]

Episode 112.

Be still my heart. (AKA shit got real but first we’re going to talk about feelings.)

Jester checks in with Yasha about the death of Mollymauk and the revival of his body, which, in true Jester fashion, turns into her asking Yasha about Beau and her feelings. This was really interesting for me to watch because Jester witnessed Yasha tell everyone in the previous episode that the mirror “would be useful,” but once she insinuates they share a bed, without any kind of sexual vibe, Yasha turns into a flustered, stammering mess. Who better to gently lead Yasha through this than Jester herself, who immediately gets that there’s something deeper going on here than an interest in a one night thing. Her teasing playfulness turns into a beautiful kindness, and she gets to see, for the first time, the woman who fell in love once a long time ago.

There’s a lot of this that feels key for me here, and I haven’t had a lot of coffee this morning, but Imma try and get my thoughts in order anyway. 

Only two people in the Nein know the deep heartache Yasha suffers from losing Zuala: Caduceus and Jester. Jester watched the painful guilt slowly reveal itself from “you’re chosen a mate, but I fell in love with someone else” to “I don’t know where she’s buried, but I have so many flowers to bring her.” She’s watched Yasha suffer over and over again, but here she bears witness to something truly unique - Yasha overwhelmed with the butterflies in the stomach one gets when they really care. On top of all that, Yasha doesn’t know what to do, because of course she doesn’t know what to do. The only other relationship she had in her life had to be in secret. It’s kind of a wonder she’s admitting any of this to Jester in the first place, but that she’s doing so says a lot, and Jester doesn’t miss a moment of that. 

Enthusiastic Cheerleader Laura Bailey engages in some kind hearted teasing that basically oozes with it’s okay, Yasha, this is supposed to be fun energy. The two of them are suddenly teenagers at a sleepover talking about a crush and the best way to leave a note in their locker. “You don’t get nervous easily. If you’re getting flustered, that says something. Maybe I should leave.”

“No no! I don’t feel like I’m ready!”

“Okay! I’ll stay in the room!” (God bless you Jester, and your kindness.)

“... shit, I don’t know what to do!”

Watching Yasha discover that it’s okay to be vocal about these kinds of things is such an adventure. She’s so concerned with overstepping a boundary with Beau, but is too nervous to take a chance and see what that boundary even is, or if it even exists. (”I feel like I shouldn’t know this because it’s not from her, you know?... I just, she-she-she-she-she makes me so nervous.” This same woman tore the wings off Obann’s back.) Watching Jester try to hold back her excitement for her friends is like watching a hyperactive puppy run in the park for the first time. It’s such a complete disaster of a conversation that is so relatable and almost awkward to watch until Yasha opens up and becomes just that much more vulnerable.

“She makes me sweaty and, like, warm and fuzzy at the same time, and then I see her do things and them I’m just like, I want to--I want to kiss her so bad. And then that makes me feel kinda bad.”

I had to stop and think about this for a second because the first thing that came to mind was, of course, some kind of Dope Monk Shit Beau had done in the past that would make Yasha think this, but if she’s so adamant that her role is to protect, I don’t feel like she’d let something like that distract her in the heat of battle. (I may be proven wrong later, who knows, I’m mostly saying I don’t think she’d grab Beau in the middle of the BBEG fight and kiss her or anything.) What I immediately thought of after, though, was the previous episode when Beau was trying to line things out to the Nein about her theories regarding the Nine Eyes. There’s a moment where Beau is being praised, and Yasha with a bit of awe in her voice goes, “That’s a breakthrough.” It’s so simple and so easily missed in the moment. (I believe Beau immediately turns it around on her and says she deserves credit for a point she made, which Yasha immediately deflects and says she didn’t come up with nearly the amount of theories Beau did.) I think Yasha is holding far more than awe in that moment. I think that’s a peek into a moment she wishes she could have kissed her, shown some kind of affection, something, to show how proud she is of Beau.

So, at the end, when she says “that makes me feel kinda bad,” I don’t think she’s talking about a leftover something with Zuala - though maybe she is, and that’s valid, she’s always going to love Zuala and moving on with grief is painful and hard, even if you’ve told yourself it’s okay to - I think she genuinely doesn’t know what to do, and open affection with someone isn’t something she’s used to doing, but on top of that, I also wonder if it means she doesn’t want to be quiet with Beau, in the sense that she doesn’t want to hide how she feels. She doesn’t want another romance with secrecy, she wants to be able to love loudly, and she might have permission, so to speak, to do that, but that doesn’t mean she knows what to do with it.

Going back to Laura for a second - watching her in this conversation is so interesting because I think she caught Ashley totally unprepared for a conversation like this, which is why parts of it are so awkward and why they’re giggling throughout a portion of it. (I don’t think she did it maliciously, I think she’s being Jester and Jester would be this forthright and Ashley was just like “well shit, here we go!”) Jester is trying to be a wingman in the way only Jester can be, and when it’s clear Yasha’s anxiety comes from nerves, she drops this beautiful nugget that’s got a lot of Jester but a lot of Laura, too:

“Yasha, you can’t feel guilty for how you feel. If she makes you feel happy, that’s a wonderful thing. That’s so rare.”

Laura’s face gets me every time. She’s digging into a deep place here, and she’s doing it gently. Someone made you happy once before, Yasha. You know what this feels like. You have a chance to have it again.

“It is so rare.”

And with three sentences, the entire dynamic of the conversation changes.

Yasha suddenly takes charge of this thing and starts making suggestions to Jester, telling her she feels like she’s been given a lot of confidence, “maybe stay in the room so it doesn’t seem obvious, I’ll sleep on the floor tonight and I’ll figure it out.” Sure doesn’t sound like someone who doesn’t know what to do to me. (I mean, it does, but you know what I'm saying.) Then, after being so nervous about knowing something she felt like she should have heard from Beau, Jester assures her “that’s not the vibe I got” and she runs with it. “It’s not? Ok ok.” She’s suddenly got some confidence in this tangle of nerves, but at least she’s going to make an attempt to do something about it.

(Marisha has a face here that kills me, btw, after Jester says Yasha should talk to Beau, and Yasha says yeah, it’s best to talk to the source:

“The source is waiting, babe, I got time.”)

Speaking of Marisha, her facial journey during this poem workshop is an experience best had on your own time. Screenshots can’t do it justice. I’m going to take one image and make it my phone’s background without any context, ‘cause “eyes so blue and hair so shorn on the sides” makes her lose her shit.

(Bonus Taliesin, who can’t even.)

What I didn’t realize, though, is how quickly Beau comes back into the room after this talk between Beau and Jester, which means Ashley has only moments to really push Yasha Nydoorin of Seven Charisma, and like the badass she is, she’s got it totally under control from the first flustered “Hello!”

Because understanding your feelings and coming to terms with them about someone else is one thing. Excecution, however... is something else entirely. And while playing a suave personality that can charm the socks off anyone is fun, going to that place where you stammer and talk too much and nothing makes sense is so much more endearing. It makes the little moments where you get things “right,” so to speak, so much more. And so much more to launch off of, as Yasha immediately caves back into that place when she realizes she reached out and touched the glitter on Beau’s face, oh shit, I don’t know what to do, umm, I’m tired I guess.

(Bonus Laura, who is so proud of Yasha for being bold and basically needs a Beauyasha membership card that reads 0001/2 at this point.)

But keep in mind, this flustered nonsense isn’t just from Yasha, it’s also from Beau, who, while a little tipsy, has zero liquid courage in this moment and is just as much a stammering mess as Yasha herself is. Even more noteable is when Yasha makes a joke about “schnuggling”... Beau is almost ready to take Yasha up on that offer. “I mean, I--” is Marisha’s exact quote before Yasha backpedals and says she’s kidding. (Yet another tiny example of Marisha letting Ashley take the lead, whether it was intentional or not.) Confident Beau who oozed with sexual prowess becoming an actual disaster under the flirtatious radar of Yasha is my favorite thing in the world. That was probably the longest space of time between waking and sleeping for either of them, and Jester got to bare witness to all of their growth in its beautiful, awkward, “oh god, just schnuggle already” glory.

Taliesin is the real MVP here, who said what I’ve been thinking every time I’ve watched highlights of this part, but didn’t know it actually happened until now, “I assume they all take a point of exhaustion because none of them sleep. Just lie there.”

Even Travis, Honorary Beauyasha Membership Card holder number 0001/2, is in on it.

I adore everything about this scene. We all need a little dash of disaster lesbians in our lives. It’s gonna be okay, you two. I promise.

[seesgood]

can we very gently talk about call out posts / culture really quick?  not in a judgmental way, but in like a: i just want to pose a thought and explain why i’m never going to buy into it and why i wish it would become less of a trend instead of more of one? and i’ll add the  disclaimer  here: i totally get not wanting certain people around you for various reasons, that is all your prerogative. that’s your comfort level. but in emphasizing “your blog should be a safe space” we’re kind’ve losing sight of the fact that the rpc should also be a safe space, and as much as your comfort and safety matter, so do other people’s. and not just the person who hurt you, but the third parties and other mutuals and 99.9% of people who are not at all involved in any way in whatever happened. so, anyway here goes, read it or don’t, we all have different opinions or reasons, i just want to be heard:

people are allowed to change.  think back to who you were last year. two years ago. think about the stuff you said when you were seventeen, or twenty-one, or hell whatever age you were. current-you would probably cringe at the kind of stuff past-you had to say. because you grew. you learned. you had life experiences. in hindsight you have the freedom to be like “oof yeah that was not the best version of myself right there damn i don’t want to be like that again.” the growing trend of ‘here’s a 10+ page google doc complete with out of context screenshots that sometimes date back to like 2017 or earlier’ makes this kind of change impossible. because right there, you’ve just frozen a person in time, probably not at their best, removed any and all amounts of context, and put it on the internet and let other people judge it for themselves. 

so that leads into another point that i want to just kinda present to the community at large: the act of documenting behaviors and storing them for months / years at a time, in itself creates a super unsafe environment, not just for you, your friends, the people who have hurt you --- but also for anyone else that isn’t at all involved in whatever happened. like, for example, i like to think that i’m a pretty nice person. i actively try to be a nice person. am i sometimes not having the best day? have people definitely caught me in bad moments? oh hell yeah. but am i, as someone who tries really hard to be nice and welcoming, constantly thinking through every message i send to someone knowing that a) i could have a reputation that makes them read into context that isn’t there and that could contribute to them misinterpreting words i meant in a different way, b) very aware that every post i make, ask i send, message i send can at any moment be screenshotted and posted and taken out of context and either serve as someone’s only opinion of me or pile on to someone’s existing opinion of me? yeah. so in my experience, and based on people i’ve talked to, we now have this thing where you can be surface-friends wtih a lot of people, but if you want to survive in the tumblr rpc you should really only have 2-3 people that you really trust that you can actually talk about shit with. 

and lately i’ve been seeing a resurgence of posts on my dash about like “bring back xyz in the rpc” or “the reason the rpc is like this is because of xyz” and i both agree and disagree with a lot of this, but primarily i think the reason the rpc is Off lately is because everyone and their cousin has a DNI, which is --- again --- your decision and i understand and respect that, but while you know the context of every name on that DNI, other people don’t. and to be honest: other people don’t really care and honestly maybe they shouldn’t care. --- and don’t get me wrong, your friends should care if someone has hurt you. that’s important. but joe billy bob who just wants to write their character with yours is going to read through your rules, they’re going to see “do not interact with me if you follow with or interact with these people you’ve never heard of and if you want me to tell you why just message me” (which no one is ever going to do, i’m sorry to say). and say, joe billy bob also followed that other person because they were like ‘omg this blog looks cool’ --- now joe billy bob, who just wants to write cool plots, is suddenly the middle-man in some type of drama that they do not understand, and maybe they’re able to remove themselves from the situation, but even then it’s still in the back of your mind. 

this is getting long. it’ll be longer, but let’s take a brief break for me to remind you that in some cases, it’s definitely good to give your mutuals and friends a heads up when someone has done something really, really bad. like, remember x amount of years ago when some dude was like ‘i’m gonna make up a new person and say they died by suicide as a social experiment’ or ‘hey this person actively tries to force very triggering plots about abuse / rape / incest onto people and has been doing so for years and does not seem to change their ways no matter how many people try to educate them’ that’s shit people should probably know about. and it’s also okay ( in my opinion ) for your friends to be able to message you like ‘hey i saw you’re writing with x and i just wanted to let you know i had this experience with them’ if that’s something they feel comfortable doing. and if they are comfortable with you still having the autonomy to make your own decision regarding the person. 

i’ll be honest, for a second: i’ve been part of friendships and groups that have turned really toxic for one reason or another. a handful of times. there are probably people out there that are like “yeah this chick is really fake and manipulative and etc, i was friends with her back in 2019″ which, okay. yeah. i’ve definitely done shit and said shit that was not the most representative of who i want to be and who i want to become, and you probably have to. because we are human beings and we are a product of our social groups and the community around us. and you shouldn’t be chained to a version of you that isn’t you anymore. people change. they grow. you don’t have to like them, but you should respect that sometimes people don’t mesh, and that doesn’t mean any of them are bad people, it just means the experience was bad. 

a few additional notes i would like to make but i’ve already gone on way too long:

90% of the callout posts that i’ve seen and the DNI’s that i’ve seen can, in my opinion, be classified as a friend group thing. you were friends with x, x did something, now y and z aren’t friends with x anymore. pain is a very, very real thing and people hurting you should never be minimized, but at some point i just want you to remember that not every friendship is going to end happily, but both you and the other party should be allowed to move on and grow better, healthier friendships after. rehashing Friend Group Gone Wrong instances removes that ability for not only person x, but also person y and z.

you putting out a callout says just as much ( maybe more ) about you than it does about the other person. which sucks. because i’d like to think we all have great intentions, and i’m not saying that you should swallow your pain, but it might not be the kind of thing that impacts the community at large, and maybe you should try to find a better way of working through it with a trusted friend(s)

i’m going to be very real and very blunt on this one: literally no one cares. i say that with love. i’m good friends with people who have each other on their DNI’s. establish a baseline of respect and ‘i’m not going to say anything to them about you and vice versa because there’s no need for me to do so’ and move on. but seriously. no one cares. most outside people read callout posts because they like being in the know about the drama, not because they actually care. 

person a and person b who are mentioned in the DNI / callout aren’t the only ones who are going to be affected. your friends, your mutuals, your writing partners are now all put in a weird spot where you have to pick sides on an issue you know nothing about and shouldn’t have to know anything about. you’re asking people to choose sides on an issue they cannot fully understand, and that’s not fair to them or to you. and it drives great people away. and then we all lose out on having more awesome people in the rpc.

you’re entitled to your safe space, but this is a public platform and you are also responsible for maintaining your safe space. you shouldn’t put it entirely on other people to do that for you. you can block, blacklist, make up funny names for, or spitefully erase from your many anything and anyone that you wish. but you shouldn’t make your friends do it for you.

there’s always an inherent power imbalance when any kind of drama occurs between those who have more followers / friends / connections and those who do not. and the smaller blog is always going to suffer a little bit more because they don’t have people blindly coming to their defense. 

bad moments, bad experiences, bad decisions DO NOT equal bad people. 

allow people to make up their own mind about something or someone

anywho, if you read through this whole thing i think i owe you financial compensation. but also thank you for reading / listening / considering. even if you rolled your eyes through the whole thing like “stfu lia” that’s fine. i’m just presenting an alternative thought. i’d like to once again state: i’m not judging you if you’ve made a callout/DNI or if you’re on a callout/DNI. like i literally don’t care. and frankly, in my opinion, i shouldn’t have to. because i, and you, and your friends, and your mutuals, and your non-mutuals should be allowed the space to make up their own opinion and mind on something or someone without being told that there will be consequences if they don’t agree with you. set boundaries. communicate in healthy ways. you don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt or wronged you, but you also don’t get to decide that their actions make up 100% of who they are as a person, or decide that that is the only side of that person people should get to see. 

[probably-haven]

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

-

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should. 

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.  Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it. 

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself  and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game 

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows. 

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over- 

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.  I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is. 

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-  Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action. 

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways. 

 -Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though. 

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips. 

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself. 

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.  - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing. 

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.  - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced. 

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports 

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that. 

-

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead. 

[salty-sith-bitch]

Nii kyr'tayl gai sa'ad (I know your name as my child)

Summary:Reader accidentally calls Din Dad

A/N: This was living rent-free in my head and I needed to get it out. Platonic and Dad Djarin & young adult relationship. Fluff and a liiiiitle bit of angst. You don't have to read "Ni cuy' olar ad'ika" but it may add a little bit of context.

Word count:  2166

Warnings: None

Ao3

Laying on your back under the control panels of the cockpit was not how you wanted to spend your afternoon. It was hot and cramped and-

"Kriff!"

The socket wrench you were holding had fallen out of your hand again. Huffing and mumbling under your breath you scooted yourself out from under the controls and sat up. Sitting in front of you was Grogu playing with the little metal ball Mando gave him. Pausing his movement he tilted his head and babbled at you.

"You think this is easy," you snarked. "You wanna give it a try womp rat?"

Tilting his head the other way his eyes widened.

"Oh, wait. That's right. You don't know-how. Last time you tried you fried the wires and then Din made me go fix it." Your tone was harsh and had a bite to it. You were frustrated and took it out on the kid. As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them.

You watched as Grogu's ears fell and tears started to fill his eyes. Quickly standing you rushed over to the kid and tried scooping him up to apologize. As you knelt a piercing wail fell from Grogu's mouth and he turned and ran from you.

"What is going on?" Din stood in the doorway of the cockpit, his booming voice filling the entire space.

Shrinking into yourself you looked down and studied your boots.

"Ad'ika." Din's voice was stern and rough as he talked to you.

Looking up you saw Grogu wipe the tears from his eyes as he snuggled into Mando.

You didn't respond. Instead just stared at Mando. This wasn't the first time he called you out for something you did wrong. He didn't do it to make you feel bad but because he cared. Just like any other parent, he watched out for you and the Child and that includes when the two of you fight.

"Y/N, I don't want to hear you snap at him again. Do you understand?"

Giving a curt nod you tried to avoid eye to helm contact. "Yes sir."

Sighing heavily Mando walked over to you and passed you the Child. "Go eat dinner. I'll finish this up so we can leave."

Nodding again you took the child into your arms and made your way down to the hull.

"I'm sorry little buddy. I didn't mean to snap. I shouldn't have taken out my frustration on you."

Cooing, Grogu looked up at you and leaned his head against your shoulder showing he understood and accepted.

***

The rest of the week was rough. You were tired and you could tell Din and Grogu were too. There had been multiple days after you snapping at Grogu that Din called you out on your behavior. 

The morning after he has asked you to get up and take care of the Child so he could leave to hunt his bounty. You groaned and rolled over on your cot saying it was too early. Din told you he needed to leave in ten minutes and would be back when he finished putting the rear of his gear on.

Ten minutes later he has found you fast asleep and Grogu cooing in his arms. "Ad'ika."

You groaned again, waving your arm at him.

He repeated himself and stared down at you.

Nothing.

"I'm gonna take the blanket If you don't get up in three, two-"

Sitting up you glared at Din.

"I'm up."

"Finally." Din passed the child to you. "I'll be back by sundown."

Still glaring you rolled your eyes and mocked him.

Choosing to ignore you Din walked away, leaving you with Grogu sitting on your lap. As soon as the ramp door closed Grogu started to cry.

Growling, you flopped back on the bed and covered your head with the blanket.

***

The third time he called you out on your behavior had been the last straw and when you felt you really messed up.

Din sat in the pilot's chair with Grogu tucked into his unarmored chest. It has been yet another long day and you were glad to finally be in hyperspace and not in charge of the child. Staring blankly out the cockpit window you watched as the stars zipped by. 

"Can you take Grogu and tuck him in?" 

You didn't hear him and continued to stare outside.

Swiveling in his seat Din looked at you through the visor of his helmet.

"Ad'ika, can you please take Grogu?"

Turning to look at him you responded without thinking. "Why can't you?"

There was a long awkward pause as you two eyed each other down. You could feel the stress and tension rising between the two of you and for the second time that week, you regretted four words. Letting go of the air that you were holding you shifted in your seat to stand and grab Grogu. Before you could move from your seat though Din swiftly rose and made his way out of the cockpit.

"Dank Farrik," you cursed under your breath. Throwing your head back you smacked it into the passenger seat.

You sat for a couple of minutes staring at the ceiling wishing you could once again take back your words. You were tired but Din was exhausted. You knew better than to give him attitude and argue with him but sometimes your mouth was quicker than your brain. You also and most importantly knew that without him and the child you'd be alone and without a family and probably even possibly dead. You were thankful and didn't mind taking care of Grogu but there were times when exhaustion crept up on you making you irritable and moody.

The hissing of the cockpit door caught your attention and pulled you from your thoughts. Taking a deep breath you watched as Din - now fully unarmored besides his helmet- sat back down I'm his chair.

You'd seen Din without his helmet before. Many times. Most of the time it was just the three of you on the ship, his little clan, he opted not to wear it. But now as he sat in the chair looking out into hyperspace you knew he was annoyed. He kept the helmet on because he didn't want his face to give away his thoughts and emotions.  Yes, he was comfortable showing himself but he wasn't quite. Comfortable with being an open book. He wasn't skilled at hiding his thoughts through his facial expressions and you felt as if this was cheating.

Wiggling in your seat you scooted towards the edge as you thought - and deeply thought before speaking- about your apology.

Inhaling deeply you started to speak. "I'm really-"

Before you could even start the next word Din cut you off.

"Don't. Unless you are going to apologize I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth until we land."

You snapped. You felt as if a rubber band inside of you has been stretching and stretching and finally reached it's limit and gave out. 

"Well maybe if you had let me finished speaking you would have heard me apologizing."

Turning to look at you Din lowered his head. You may not have been able to see his face but you could see his body tense with anger.

"Ad'ika. What is your problem?"

Your eyes narrowed and you spoke as you jabbed a finger into your chest. "My problem? I'm tired and I'm feeling cramped on this ship. Grogu is driving me mad. He cries for you all the time and getting into trouble. Do you know how many boxes of tools I've had to pick up cause he's decided to play around with his magic hand thing?" You felt your face getting heated and your voice rising as you spoke. "I want a break! I want just one day to sleep in and adjust to everything that is going on!"

"You want a day off? Then why didn't you just say so?" His voice was clipped as he responded to you; his rubber band now snapping. "And I thought you'd be more grateful to be here! So you want me to turn this ship around and take you home? Because I can. I could have just left you."

Tears filled your eyes. His words stung. You knew he didn't mean them but they still hurt. "This. This is why I don't bring these things up." You stood and backed towards the cockpit door. "Because you snap at me and tell me I'm not grateful. I am. But you're never there to see it."

Growling Din reached up and grabbed the sides of his helmet, quickly removing it and throwing it on the floor. How jaw was visibly clenched and his nostrils flared.

"I work hard because I'm taking care of you and Grogu. You don't think I want a day off? I'm trying to make sure the two of you can survive, especially if Maker forbids something happens to me or they come for Grogu again and have to go into hiding. I don't want to see the two of you have a repeat of what's happened to any of us. Now if you just lose the attitude I can finish this bounty and we can talk about taking a break. Just lose the attitude."

You glared at him through pierced eyes and snapped back with the first thing that fell onto the tip of your tongue. Again, your mouth quicker than your brain.

"Ok, dad."

The tension that filled the cockpit quickly vaporized and became chilly. Goosebumps covered your arms and you felt as if your heart dropped into your gut. Din on the other hand stared at you like an animal caught in floodlight. You stood there for a moment in silence looking at each other.

When Din finally opened his mouth to say something you bolted out the door and down the ladder, leaving him there in utter astonishment.

"Haar'chak."

***

The rest of the flight was spent in silence. You didn't see Din until he came down to put his armor on and left to talk to Karga. Grogu still slept in his hammock, leaving you nothing but silence and your overwhelming thoughts of dread.

Din was sure to take you back home now or even just kick you off here. You had for sure crossed a line making everything awkward. Mando doesn't do deep connections and relationships and your slip up probably made him panic.

You had seen him as a father figure for a while but never dare say anything. There was no need to and you didn't want to jeopardize your arrangement you had with him. He reminded you so much of your father though and Grogu your brother that sometimes it was hard to forget that you were just here to take care of The Child.

Giving a heavy sigh you wiped the frustrated tears from your face started to pack your bags, ready for Din to kick you out. As you packed your last item into your bag - a blanket that used to belong to your parents-  you heard heavy footsteps come up the ramp.

Feeling your heartbeat rapidly in your chest, you sat on the edge of the cot waiting for him to approach you.

"Ad'ika…" his voice was gentle and just above a whisper; the modulator barely catching it.

When you didn't respond right away Din shuffled closer to you and squatted down. 

"Did you mean it?"

Taking a shaky breath you nodded your head; more got tears rolling down the face.

You saw Din shift again. Squeezing your eyes shut you turned your head away, preparing you for whatever came next. You held your breath as you waited for him to ask you to leave. Listening you heard him remove his helmet and set it on the ground along with a soft thud of something else following suit.

"Gar cuyir ner adiik jii." You felt calloused thumbs come up and brush the tears from your face. opening your eyes you found Din's brown ones staring at you, shedding tears of his own. "Nii kyr'tayl gai sa'ad." Sighing Din continued. "You are my child now. I know your name as my child."

Shaking you let the flood gate open and sobbed. Smiling at you Din pulled you into a hug and held you.

"Ad'ika, I do everything I do because I care. You a part of this family now. My clan. Ner aliit. I will protect you and give you a home. The same I do with Grogu, gar vod. Your brother. And I will be your father but we will never forget your parents and how they loved you. We will celebrate them and how they protected you and hope it brought you to me."

You continued to sob into his shoulder as he held you. You had found a home. A place you felt safe and welcomed by Din. Your father. Your protector. 

Ner aliit.

[dameronology]

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 

It had only been five days. 

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 

 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 

[thunder-at-dawn]

June 3rd

i really liked writing this one!! it ended up being way longer than i thought it would though lol

word count: 2,563 (jesus christ)

prompt: gang tickles

character: eret

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

Attachments.

No matter if it was toward a person, place, or a noun, people always developed attachments to certain things.

Eret had always found themselves getting attached to things in life. They became attached to the pet sheep they had found roaming around the museum. They had been attached to L’Manburg at one point, it was their first real home. They were attached to Puffy, Foolish, and other friends they had met.

But right now, at this very moment? Eret was growing an attachment to...a couch.

There was a sectional couch in the library of the castle. It was red, made of velvet material, and in Eret’s words, “a really fucking nice couch.” It could easily fit six people, maybe seven or eight if people squeezed together. There was also an ottoman where, if rolled into the right spot, could make a larger space on the sectional that resembled a mattress. Eret had been laying across this couch for a while, reading a fantasy novel that they had found while browsing through the shelves of the library. Their crown was placed on a table nearby, as they didn’t feel the need to wear it at the moment. They looked up when they heard the sound of the door opening, wondering who was currently visiting.

“Foolish!” Eret sat up, happy to see their old friend. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Eret.” Foolish waved, and the king was quick to notice that he wasn’t filled with his normal, bubbly charm. The god walked over to his friend, leaning over and resting his arms on the sectional’s armrest. “So, uh...I have something to say. And you might not like it.”

Eret blinked in surprise, placing a bookmark in their book and gently closing it. “Okay? What is it?” They asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, um...You know how you told me that you didn’t want to tell anyone details about your past until we figured out more stuff about it?”

“...Yes?”

“I...” Foolish hid his face with his hands. “I accidentally let some stuff slip in conversation. When I was talking to...um, Puffy.”

Eret could feel their heart skip a beat in their chest, but they kept their composure. “...Okay...did you tell anyone other than Puffy?” They asked.

The god let out a groan of frustration, sitting down next to Eret on the couch. “No, I didn’t, but I accidentally brought up how we were reading together a while ago, and she was like “oh, what book were you guys reading?” and I didn’t want to lie, and I got put on the spot, so I told her about the wither cult, and I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen, and-“

“Oh, thank god.”

“Wait, what?”

“When you said that you told someone, with how nervous you looked, I thought you were talking about like, Dream, or someone else untrustworthy like that.” Eret let out a sigh of relief, placing a hand on their chest.

“Wait, so you aren’t mad?” Foolish asked.

“No, of course not! Accidents happen.” They shrugged. “And honestly, Puffy was the first person I planned to tell after we figured this all out. So, if anything, you actually did me a favor.”

“Really?! Whew, that’s a relief!” Foolish could feel his muscles untense as he also let out a heavy sigh, leaning back into the couch. “I thought you were gonna be so pissed off at me!”

Eret laughed softly. “Foolish, when have I ever been known to be upset in front of you?” They asked. They weren’t an easy person to provoke, it was pretty rare for them to lose their cool.

“You’re right, you’re right.” He nodded, aware of how Eret had never really gotten angry in front of him in all of the months he had been in this land. “You’re not easy to anger. However, back in the day, you would get a little bit intense when you were angry.”

“Really?” Eret looked over to their friend with curious eyes. “How so?”

Before Foolish could begin to explain, they were both distracted by the door of the library swinging open. A familiar face approached, closing the door behind themselves.

“So, someone told me that you used to be quite the warrior. And you don’t remember, so I’d like to see if I can help out with that.” The sheep hybrid greeted, pulling down her sunglasses and sending the two a wink.

“Apparently, I was a warrior!” Eret chuckled, waving to Puffy.

“Puffy, hey! Come sit down with us!” Foolish said excitedly, tapping on the free couch seat next to him.

“In a second!” Puffy made a beeline to the bookshelves, skimming through the words on the spine of each book. “What was the name of the book you guys were reading again?”

“The history of withers, I’m pretty sure!” Foolish nodded.

“Right...author name?”

“Umm...last name started with an H, I think?”

“...Hodgman?”

“Yep, I think so!”

“Careful, it’s quite heavy.” Eret warned her, but was surprised to see that Puffy was easily able to hold onto it, with seemingly no struggle. She walked over to the other two, sitting to the side of Eret so that they were in the middle.

She looked at her son and grinned softly. “This is his first time on the couch, isn’t it?”

“This is such a nice couch!” Foolish said as he sunk deeper into his seat, much to Eret and Puffy’s amusement. “How come I’ve never sat on this before?!”

“It’s your fault for not exploring the wonders of my castle enough.” Eret joked as Puffy placed the book in their lap so that all three of them could easily access it.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Foolish rolled his eyes, sitting up to get a closer look at the reading.

The three of them sat together on the couch for a very long time, investigating more of the book that Foolish and Eret had read previously. Foolish would often have to help transcribe words in ancient languages that the other two didn’t understand, and Puffy would often need context and explanation for quite a few things, but still tried to help as best as she could. They would laugh at Foolish’s stupid jokes and share exchanges in between their research, still finding fun. However, after a while, they found it to be draining.

“Okay, how much have we accomplished in the past two hours?”

“What? Foolish, there’s no way we’ve been at this for two hours.”

“Actually, we have.” Puffy nodded, checking the watch on her wrist. “We should probably take a break.”

“I’m down for that.” Foolish was quick to go limp and sink back into the couch.

“Mhm...” Eret nodded, looking out of the castle windows. It was golden hour, and the sun was setting over the horizon, leaving a beautiful, golden gleam to leak through the windows and into the library.

“You tired?” Puffy asked them.

“Not really tired, just drained.” Eret nodded as they turned towards the sheep hybrid.

“I can tell, you look tense.” She said before gently grabbing them by the shoulders and moving them so their back faced her. “Here, let me help.” After observing no signs of discomfort, Puffy started to gently massage Eret’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Puffy.” Eret smiled, leaning back into Puffy a bit as she massaged them.

“It’s no problem.” Puffy smiled back, continuing to lightly rub at Eret’s shoulders. The three of them sat in a peaceful silence, all of them illuminated by the golden glow of the sunset. Man, this was nice. Eret found themselves relaxing quite a bit...but not for long. Puffy lightly pressed her fingers against Eret’s shoulderblades, and they let out a squeak of surprise before quickly covering their mouth.

“Woah- are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Puffy asked, quickly letting go when Foolish sat up, curious to see what was happening.

“What? No, you didn’t do anything. I’m fine, Puffy.” Eret said, trying to throw what had just occurred under the rug. They noticed Foolish staring out of the corner of their eye, knowing damn well that he had noticed.

Foolish blinked, continuing to stare, before a smile appeared on his face. “Ooooh, right. Puffy. I have known Eret far longer than you have, and there’s something about them you might not know yet.”

“Hm?” Puffy looked up curiously.

Eret immediately knew what Foolish was referring too. “J-Just ignore him, Puffy.” They said to her.

Foolish smirked, now fully sitting up and moving closer to them both. “See, even if Eret doesn’t remember the past, what I do know is that they have stayed pretty similar to their old ways, including their strengths...and their weaknesses.”

“Like what?” Puffy asked, now intrigued with what Foolish had been saying.

“The truth...is that Eret...”

“Foolish, don’t tell her.”

“Is very...”

“Foolish.”

“Very...”

“Don’t you dare.”

Foolish paused, a wide grin on his face, amused by the situation. Eret leaned back, but couldn’t do much with Puffy sitting near him. He didn’t necessarily mind this, but it was a bit embarrassing.

“...Ticklish!” He finally commenced, leaning over and digging into Eret’s underarms. The monarch let out a surprised yell, quick to erupt into laughter.

“Yohohou AHAHASSHOHOLE!” They yelled, squirming around as they were laid across Puffy’s lap.

“Aww!” Puffy laughed a bit herself as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her, ruffling their hair.

“DohOHOn’t lahahaugh! Ihihit’s nohoHOt fuhuhunny, Puhuhuffy!”

“Then how come you’re laughing so much, Eret?” Foolish asked, grinning happily.

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Eret snapped back through their laughter.

“Wait, wait, stop, I want to try something.” Puffy said suddenly. Foolish drew his hands away, letting Eret catch their breath. After a few moments, Puffy scooped her arms underneath Eret, and after a bit of struggle, managed to pick them up.

“Woah, wahait!” Eret yelped in surprise, clinging onto Puffy as them was lifted off of the couch. The captain smirked, lightly tossing Eret onto the other side of the couch. The ottoman was pulled in currently, so there was more space for them to move around if needed. Puffy was quick to sit down next to him, lying him down.

“So, Foolish. Overall, how ticklish do you think Eret is on a scale of one to ten?” Puffy asked her son.

“From one to ten? Hmm...” Foolish paused to think. “It can vary, depending on the spot but...I’d say an eight! Maybe even a nine!”

“A nine?!” Eret repeated, the now mischievous look on Puffy’s face filling them with a bit of nervousness. “Absolutely not, I am a seven at the most.”

“Well, with conflicting answers, I guess I’ll have to find out for myself!” Puffy said, slowly closing in on her friend before digging right into the hallows of their underarms, just as Foolish had done before.

“NohOHOHO- waHAhaihit!” Eret yelped, squirming around on the couch and holding onto Puffy’s wrists.

“Man, I remember when we were at a party this one time, and you were a bit tipsy, and you nearly fell over and I grabbed your waist to catch you. And you started laughing and, I dunno, I just had this strange feeling that it wasn’t from the alcohol! So I squeezed at your sides again, and you started laughing more, and I put two and two together.” Foolish laughed a bit himself, thinking about the memory.

“Their sides, you say?” Puffy’s eyebrow raised up curiously.

“Yeah, just like this!” Foolish quickly leaned down and grabbed onto Eret’s sides, a shriek emitting from their mouth. He squeezed and pinched at the area, sending the monarchy into a squirming, giggling mess.

“SHIHIHIT- GUHUYS!” They laughed, attempting to bat both pairs of hands away.

“I also remember you being quite a sneaky gal, but you can’t try and sneak your way out of this one!” Foolish said, finding as much enjoyment out of this as Puffy was.

“Yeah, you’re definitely past a seven.” Puffy declared. “Just like Foolish said, you’re an eight, possibly a nine.”

Foolish quickly stopped with one hand, using it to cover his mouth as he quickly whispered something to Puffy. The two of them nodded before Foolish went back in with his free hand, and Eret continued to laugh. They were squirming around a lot less now, probably getting a bit tired out. The other two slowed down, giving Eret time to breathe.

“Alright...” Foolish said quietly, looking at Puffy, then looking back down at Eret. “Three... two... one... NOW!” At the god’s signal, they both dug their hands into Eret’s ribcage, Foolish tackling the upper ribs while Puffy got the lower ones. Another shriek tore out from the monarch’s mouth.

“FUHUHUCK- HAHAHAHA!! WAHAHAIT-“ Eret threw their head back, attempting to squirm and defend themselves with their hands, but they were simply too tired to do so.

“Oh, forget what I said earlier, you are absolutely a ten.” Puffy said with a smirk.

“I agree! Ten all the way!” Foolish nodded in agreement.

“I’M NOHOHOT A TEHEHEHEN-” Eret cackled, a small hiccup escaping from their mouth.

The two of them continued the attack, before Foolish drew away, and signaled for Puffy to do the same. “Alright, I don’t wanna actually kill them.” He chuckled a bit.

Eret was still a giggling mess, even after the two of them had stopped. The golden light from the sunset reflected on their glasses as they reached a hand up behind them to wipe a tear from their eye. Readjusting the glasses, they let out a sigh. “You guys are both jerks.” They said lightheartedly before giggling again.

“Aww, but we’re your favorite jerks, aren’t we?” Foolish asked, moving and sitting down next to Eret’s head.

“Yeah, sure.” They rolled their eyes.

“The king of the SMP called me a jerk. That’s something to cross off of my bucket list.” Puffy said out loud, making the other two laugh, and she too, laughed along with them. Eret finally sat up, and their two friends readjusted to sit next to them.

“We’re not sorry for wrecking you into another millennium...but, we hope you can forgive us anyway.” Foolish said as he ruffled Eret’s hair.

Eret couldn’t help but smile at their old friend’s antics. “I forgive you both, but don’t think I’m not going to get you both back soon.” They said, fixing up the mess Foolish had made.

“That’s fair.” Puffy leaned into Eret. The king laughed softly, putting an arm around each of their friends.

Eret suddenly remembered that they had something that they wanted to say. “Oh, and Foolish?”

“Yeah?” Foolish turned his head.

“...Thanks for fucking up earlier and accidentally telling Puffy about the Wither Cult.” They smiled. Puffy laughed at the statement, grinning wildly as well. Foolish snickered lightly, and now all three of them were happily smiling.

“It’s no problem, old pal.” Foolish said with a sincere smile.

Eret looked out of the window. Golden hour was starting to come to an end, and the golden gleam from the windows was starting to fade.

They had made a new memory today.

It was moments like these that they had to cherish. Fun times to be had with friends. Between the stress of all of the wars, rivalries, and new nations rising up, it was definitely important. And as Eret sat with their friends in a peaceful silence, they knew that this something they needed.

[drabbles-mc]

Conversations In The Dark

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from @n3ss12: Can I get for a short fic (if you’re not busy) based on Conversations In The Dark by John Legend with soft Nestor?💕

Warnings: language, light angst, so much softness and pining

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Full disclosure, this is also a follow-up to I Like Me Better. You can read this fic without having read that one first, but the first definitely puts more context to it. Just another installment in the Soft Nestor Universe, the SNU, if you will. But I had never heard this song and I melted into a puddle of feelings the first time I listened to it, so thank you for the song rec! Hope you enjoy xo

General Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @lakamaa12​ @holl2712 (If you want to be added to any of my tags just let me know!)

It had been almost a week since Nestor showed up on your doorstep. You cashed in on some of your vacation time when he first arrived, not wanting to leave him alone when he had finally made the trip out to come and see you. He wouldn’t have given you a hard time about it regardless—if anyone understood what it was like to be dedicated to your work it was him. But still, it was nice that you were able to have so much time with just the two of you.

For someone who never really left the West Coast, January in New York was a bit much for him to take in all at once. He’d been excited about it all, despite the cold. One of his first days there, you dragged him out to buy him a proper winter coat. He had groaned and rolled his eyes but you weren’t going to budge on it.

“I’m not gonna listen to you complain about being cold the whole time you’re here if we can prevent it,” you chuckled, “Plus you can leave it here so you’ll have it here every time you come to visit.”

“Every time?” he smiled over at you.

You nodded, “Well, yea. Now that you’ve made it out here once you’re on the hook for more trips. I don’t make the rules.”

The two of you were walking down the street to one of your favorite little hole-in-the-wall restaurants. It wasn’t overly fancy, but it was small and quiet, and you loved stopping in there for dinner after work. You were excited to bring Nestor, happy to show him that for all the hustle and bustle, there was still some peace and quiet to be found in the city.

“Y/N,” the hostess greeted you with a smile, “Always so nice to see you,” she looked over to Nestor and smiled, her voice cheery, “You brought company! Table for two?”

You nodded, holding in your laughter, “Yes, please.”

She swiped up two menus and motioned for you to follow her, “Right this way.”

The two of you sat down and you could tell that there was part of Nestor that was still tense, still trying to clock any potential threats. You reached over the table and rested your hands on top of his with a smile. You saw some of the tension disappear from his shoulders as he realized what he was doing.

“You’re off the clock, Nes,” you smiled, “Relax a little, yea?”

“Sorry, force of habit,” he shook his head.

You quickly switched the topic before he could get too into his own thoughts, “So how nice was it to have a break from me while I went to work today?”

He laughed, “You know I’d always rather spend the day with you than by myself.”

You felt your face get warm, “Yea? Six days and nights straight with me hasn’t made you sick of me yet?”

“Not yet,” he shook his head.

It was your first meal out together since he had come to town. He was so programmed to stay in as much as possible for security purposes. And you were enjoying having someone around who enjoyed cooking as much as he did. You cooked because you had to, but he actually loved doing it, so you let him. But this gave both of you the night off.

There was something intimate about being tucked away in the small restaurant together even though there were other people around. The evening ticked by as the two of you talked through dinner and drinks. You got to tell him all about work, which was a definite change of pace from him always being the one with work stories. Your job wasn’t quite as thrilling as his, but you usually clocked out with a story or two to share each day.

Nestor sipped on his beer as he listened intently to everything that you were telling him. He never wanted to take the opportunity to listen to you and see you face-to-face for granted again. From the look in his eye, you could tell that he was taking in every word that you were saying to him.

“I know you probably hear enough lawyer talk back home,” you said with a chuckle as you took a drink from your glass of wine, “Sorry if it’s a little redundant.”

He shook his head with a smile, “Not at all. Your lawyer stories are much more interesting than the ones back home. No one back home is a criminal lawyer.”

“Yea, crims always make for good stories,” you laughed.

Before either of you could jump into another story, your waiter walked up and set the check down in the middle of the table. She flashed a smile at the both of you, “No rush at all, but whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded with a smile, “Thank you.”

As she walked away, both you and Nestor reached for the check. You were anticipating it, though, so you were just a few moments quicker and snatched it up just in time. He huffed and shook his head at you and you threw your head back in laughter.

“Dinner on me, Nes.”

“C’mon, you’re letting me crash with you, the least I could do is pay for dinner.”

“I’m the only one of us who is currently working, so this is actually the smarter financial decision.”

He laughed, “I’m not unemployed, Y/N, I’m on vacation.”

“All the more reason for me to treat you to dinner,” you stuck your credit card into the check and handed it back to the waiter, who had been watching the two of you interact with a smile on her face.

The two of you made your way back out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk, each bundled up in your own puffy winter coat. You wrapped your scarf around your neck and buried your chin into it to protect it from the cold. Nestor was looking over at you with a gentle smile on his face. He stuffed one hand into his pocket while the other came to rest on the small of your back. You smiled over at him as you leaned gently against his side.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk home, but part of you wished that you could drag it out a little longer. Nestor’s arm was wrapped completely around your waist and he had you pulled tight against him. He let you go just long enough for you to unlock and open the front door to your house. As soon as the two of you were inside, he was helping you with your coat and scarf and for a brief moment you forgot that this wasn’t what your life was like—this was just a temporary fix for the both of you. Nestor still hadn’t really opened up about what made him decide to take time off so suddenly in the first place.

“It’s starting to get kinda late,” you watched as Nestor hung his own coat up, “wanna just watch movies upstairs?”

He nodded, “Sounds good.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Good. Otherwise you’d have to carry me upstairs from the couch.”

He laughed, “I think I could manage that if I had to.”

The two of you were laid up in bed together, the way that you had been every night for the last week. Neither of you made any comment about it, not wanting to burst the bubble that you were in. Nestor rested his hand on your back while you laid on his chest, both of you only half paying attention to the movie that was on the screen.

You were so close to falling asleep when you heard the sound of Nestor’s phone vibrating on the nightstand beside the bed. He mumbled a quiet apology as he picked the phone up to see who was calling. With a heavy sigh he hit the reject button and put his phone on silent.

He didn’t make any comment about it, and you were about to let it slide, but you couldn’t pretend that his real life wasn’t going to start encroaching on your situation sooner or later. The fact that he’d gone a week without interruption was a huge feat in your mind.

“Galindo?” you mumbled against his chest.

“Not important,” he gently rubbed your back.

You looked up at him, “I mean, it might be a little important,” you offered up a tired smile.

He smiled, “I’m on vacation, remember?”

“Yea,” your voice was quiet as you idly traced patterns along his chest.

“What’re you thinking?”

You shrugged, “I just…what made you take the time off? I’ve known you forever and you’ve never just blipped off the radar like that.”

For a minute the only noise in the room came from the television. You thought that Nestor was really about to just avoid answering your question, and you weren’t really sure what you’d do if he did that. The two of you were always open about everything. What could be so secretive that he couldn’t let you in?

Finally, he spoke up, “I…caught some heat from Galindo over some things. Made some decisions that he didn’t agree with and it cost me my position.”

“He fired you?” you sat upright, eyes wide.

He shook his head, “No, not really. More like…demoted?”

“Jesus,” you rested your hand on the back of your neck, “Can I ask what you did?”

You could see it written all over his face that he was dreading you asking that question. You were hard pressed to believe, though, that it would be something so terrible that it would change anything between the two of you. You knew who Galindo was, and for as enamored as you were with Nestor, you were still realistic about who he was and what he had to do for work as well. Nothing could really be that shocking, right?

“I can’t lose you,” he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you whispered as you gently cupped his face in your hands, prompting him to look at you, “you’re not going to lose me. Fuck, Nes, I feel like I just got you back. I’m not going anywhere,” you traced your thumb along his cheekbone, “You can tell me anything, I promise.”

He was silent for a few moments as he rested his hands over yours. He closed his eyes for a second before pulling you back towards him so you were laying with your head on his chest as he leaned back against the headboard of your bed. His heart was beating fast and hard enough for you to feel it against your cheek, and it was one of the only times you’d ever seen Nestor nervous about anything.

You listened intently as he started to outline everything that had been going on back home—the cartel, the rebels, and everything that came with it. The volume of his voice was hardly more than a whisper and yet it still drowned out the television as you leaned into every word that he said. His eyes weren’t meeting yours as he talked about the Galindo’s child, and the festival, and the church. He was focused on looking at your hand, that was absentmindedly tracing back and forth over his knuckles.

Whatever it was that you had been expecting him to tell you, the story you were listening to wasn’t it. You couldn’t deny that it was a bit of a pill to swallow, but again, you knew the world that Nestor lived in. How surprised could you really pretend to be that things got messy? You knew about the kind of things Miguel and his father did—the cartel was at the root of a lot of carnage. It was difficult, though, to picture the man who was laying in bed with you doing the things that he was describing to you. You were aware that he was capable of brute force, but he’s also the same man that for a week had been eating dessert in bed with you while you forced him to sit through Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix.

The clock on your nightstand ticked over to show you that it was 1AM. You looked up at Nestor as he fell silent after filling you in on everything that had happened before he showed up on your doorstep. You couldn’t believe that he had been bottling all of that up for so long.

“I’m so sorry,” he said after a few moments of silence, “I didn’t mean to bring all of this to you. I know you got out of Cali for a reason and I’m just dragging all this shit back into your life but I—”

You cut him off as you turned to face him, “Don’t apologize. I know you, Nestor. I know who you are, and who you are is never something that you need to apologize for. Never to me, okay?”

He nodded and you could see relief and a dozen other emotions swirling around his eyes, “I want to be the person you think I am, Y/N. I’m trying. But I just…don’t know if I can.”

You situated yourself so that you were sitting in his lap, facing him. You rested one hand on his chest, “You don’t have to try to be anything, okay? I don’t want you to change. You’re perfect as you are,” you rested your hands on his shoulders, “And you know me, if something about you bothered me, I would definitely fucking tell you.”

He let out a quiet laugh as his hands rested on your hips, “That’s true,” his expression sobered as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours, “I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you for how much of my weight you’ve shouldered over the years—all the secrets you’ve kept, all the advice you’ve given me. I…I think I took that for granted until you left.”

You became very aware of the warmth seeping from his hands into your sides as he pulled you closer to him. The weight of everything the two of you never said or did in all the years you’d known each other was suddenly starting to become unbearably heavy.

You lightly brushed your nose against his, “It’s the least I could do,” your heart felt like it was about to pound out of your chest, “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved that’s never broken my heart.”

His body tensed and he pulled back so he could look into your eyes. It was out there now, and there was no taking it back. So many years and countless conversations spent skirting around it, and now there was no turning away from it. His eyes searched yours, as though he was trying to figure out if you were going to take back what you had just said. You held his gaze, letting him know that the last thing you were going to do now was try and backpedal.

Almost faster than you could keep up with, his one arm wrapped tight around your waist and his other hand landed on the back of your neck as he pulled you into a needy, years-in-the-making, kiss. Instinctively your hands landed on his chest, balling his t-shirt in your fists as you attempted to pull him as close as possible to you. His fingertips pressed harder into your back as his lips moved against yours, causing you to let slip a quiet moan.

You bit lightly at his bottom lip and you felt him lean farther into you. Your hands slid up from his chest and came to rest clasped together behind his neck. He couldn’t take his lips off of yours as his fingers traced along your cheek and jaw, trying to satiate years’ worth of hunger and longing.

You finally pulled back, needing to catch your breath. Nestor kept your body pressed tightly against his, foreheads touching. Both of your chests rose and fell quickly as you tried to process and recover from everything that had just happened. His hands returned to their gentle position just above your hips while yours rested on either side of his neck.

“I love you, Y/N,” his voice was gentler than you’d ever heard it, “I know I should’ve told you a long fucking time ago, but I love you. I love you so much.”

Heat washed over your entire body as you soaked up every word that he was saying, “I love you too. And, for what it’s worth, you’ve been telling me for years—it just sounded a little different.”

He chuckled before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You’re perfect.”

You trailed your fingers lightly through his facial hair, “I’m so glad that you’re here.”

He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it, “I’m glad I am too,” he paused, “I don’t think that I can go back to the way my life was before all of this,” he shook his head slightly.

“Who says that you have to?”

He looked at you, “I can’t stay out here forever. And…and I could never ask you to give up your life here to come back to California.”

“I’ve loved you for years, Nestor. I loved you when I lived across the street from you, and I loved you when I lived across the country from you. That’s not going to change, whether we are in the same state or on opposite sides of the globe. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I’ll be loving you.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, “But I wanna love you like this, all the time.”

You smiled, softly resting your hand on the back of his head, “I know. We never get to have simple lives, huh?”

You felt the vibration of his laughter against the sensitive skin of your neck, “No, we don’t.”

“But we always figure it out, right?”

“Right,” he gave you a light squeeze.

“C’mon,” you flopped off to the side of him and pulled him down with you, “come lay with me.”

He laughed as you tangled your legs up with his and nestled your face against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your middle and kissed the top of your head before letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

“You should stay home tomorrow,” he whispered into your hair.”

You chuckled and tilted your head to look up at him, “Oh, definitely.”

He leaned down and caught your lips in a soft kiss as his hand ran up and down your back, “I love you.”

You hummed in contentment, “I love you too.”

You rested your head back against his chest, and you felt his chin softly land on the top of your head as he pressed your body flush against his. You felt yourself melting into his body heat as the television continued to play softly in the background. There were still questions to be answered, and you’d confront them when the time came. But, for the first time in a long time, it felt like a weight had been taken off of your chest. And as you listened to Nestor’s steady breathing and heartbeat, you knew you weren’t the only one who felt a little lighter.

[retrievablememories]

the second time around | jaehyun

title: the second time around pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: fluff, some angst request: “Hi! Here’s a suggestion for a story or add-on to another story you wrote. I really liked moonlight w/ jaehyun! Could you do a follow up with him not seeing her for awhile and him (and her secretly) being pissed about it but wants to reconnect with her but outside of being a customer. Ty and keep up the good work with your writing.” word count: 2.9k warnings: a couple mentions of sex a/n: hmm...the sequel to moonlight...sequels are scary to write but here we are lol. this could’ve been posted last sunday really but i’ve been stalling oof

Despite getting Jaehyun’s number after that night at the strip club, you’ve seen and heard a lot less of him than you’d like. On his end, Jaehyun isn’t so pleased about losing touch either, but you wouldn’t know that with the lack of communication.

Both of you are ultimately busy with your own lives, and it’s not like he can just drop in whenever he wants to visit you. Not just because he’s busy, but also because of where you work. The men keep their visits to the club on a once-a-month basis for a reason—to avoid tipping off any stalkers who’d find out and leak their whereabouts.

You’ve texted each other a few times since your first meeting, and you enjoyed the conversations you got to have within that timespan, but the time between responses kept getting longer—on both of your ends—until things eventually dropped off.

You were unhappy about this, though you tried not to be so obvious about it to the other girls. Getting attached to customers was not a good look. Even if they were handsome and nice and had good dick.

However, Anya was the first to notice your slightly sour mood despite your best efforts to project an unphased demeanor. And, being her usual nosy self, she managed to pry it out of you before you could even think about denying it.

“Don’t stress about it,” she’d told you on the night you finally spilled the beans. She’d wrapped her arms around your shoulders and tipped your chin up, making you hold your head up higher and look at yourself in the mirror reflection facing you. “There will be many more men where he came from. And if you don’t wanna deal with any more men right now, that’s fine too. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, anyway.”

“I’m not stressing over it,” you’d argued, sighing. “We don’t stress over men who aren’t boyfriends, remember?”

Anya grinned then, though you could tell it was the kind of smile you give when a friend is doing something they shouldn’t be—or indulging in something they think is good for them when it’s not. “Duh. But you might wanna start following your own advice if you’re gonna be dishing it out!” And then she’d gone off to do her own thing, probably to finish getting ready for her set later that night or to go bother one of her favorite bartenders.

You’d looked at yourself in the mirror more closely, frowning at the truthfulness of her statement and wishing you had not been quite so easy to read. You’d had a show right after that, which allowed you to take your mind off the mess for at least a few hours. But in the small moments when you weren’t thinking about work or school or anything else you had to do, Jaehyun crept back into your mind like a specter, wanting you to acknowledge him even though you weren’t getting the same.

When you head out to the parking lot after a particularly long night, you slow your steps when you see a man leaning against his car, his cap pulled over his eyes and his head low. In any other scenario, you probably would’ve alerted one of the bouncers, thinking he was some creep waiting until after your stage to try to corner you in a shady area. However, you hold off on calling anybody because you can clearly recognize him even if he thinks he’s being inconspicuous—it’s Jaehyun.

He lifts his head when he hears your shoes on the ground, and his lips turn up into something of a smile.

“If you wanted another dance, you’re a bit late. We just closed,” you say jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Tempting idea, but that’s not what I came here for.” He turns to face you fully now, observing you in your casual, after-work clothes. In the back of your mind, you realize this is the first time he’s seen you outside the context of performing. Then he sighs. “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

“I know.” Your familiar irritation rises again. Sure, maybe him coming to see you or you going to see him more often isn’t feasible. A text or a call, though...would be decidedly less effort, and not difficult to do. You’re not sure whether to be more irritated with him or yourself about not trying to reach out again, though you decide to aim your annoyance at him just because you can.

Jaehyun nods to your agreement. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine,” you say. “Work is...work. It has its ups and downs. How are you? Busy with the idol life?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Yeah...it just gets…stressful sometimes.” He bites his lip and shakes his head, seeming bothered about whatever’s going on with his job but not wanting to say much more about it.

“I’m sure,” you respond, and you don’t really know what to say afterwards. It’s been a while since either of you talked, and it’s strangely hard to try to pick up where you left off as if nothing happened. Jaehyun realizes this, too, and appears distressed at not knowing how to keep the conversation going with you—and possibly wasting your time.

You nod to yourself and shift on your feet. “Well, the Uber will probably be here soon, so—”

“I don’t know what things will look like between us, but I don’t want us to fall out of contact again,” Jaehyun blurts out, then winces. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just...don’t want either of us to leave before we...sort this out, I guess.”

You think to yourself, wondering if this is really worth trying to pursue. You’ve yet to deal with a man with the level of fame that Jaehyun has, yet with such a strict image to keep, which makes things exponentially more complicated. But despite your apprehension, you still want to know where this could lead. After a moment, you say, “Well, if you’re willing...I’d like the same.”

Jaehyun nods and stands up a little straighter, like that response just gave him the energy he needed. “Do you wanna….go somewhere? Just to like, hang out.” His proposition is abrupt, and you didn’t expect it. 

“Now?” You check your phone, and it’s 18 minutes past 2 a.m. There aren’t too many places that will still be open at this hour, other than establishments similar to your line of work, but you aren’t in the mood for any more of that tonight. Your driver, too, is only a few minutes away, but you already find yourself with your finger hovering over the Cancel button. “We could.”

Jaehyun goes around to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for you. You get into his car, noting its sleek interior. Once he gets in, he asks you what you want to hear, and you notice he’s looking through his Spotify. You shrug.

“I don’t know. Show me something you like,” you say. You cringe at sounding so disinterested, which makes you realize you might just be a little more upset about being ghosted than you thought you were. You almost want to curse at how this dude is taking you off your usual game. “I mean, I like hearing new music anyway, so…”

Jaehyun starts the car and grins slightly. “Alright, then let me show you the best of the best…” You both end up listening and vibing to a playlist he’s made, which is good. Not that you didn’t expect it to be, but you end up liking most of the songs he shows you, which usually doesn’t happen with other people’s playlists.

Jaehyun ends up taking you to an ice cream place that’s still open this late, to your surprise. The sitting area inside the store is closed, though they’ve kept the drive-thru open for late-night travelers like yourselves who want a quick treat. You don’t question it, though; you definitely won’t pass up a chance for some ice cream.

You end up eating the ice cream while sitting in his car and listening to the rest of his playlist. Neither of you say much other than commenting on the songs or talking about your favorite ice cream flavors or making other non-committal small talk. You kind of prefer it this way, at least for the moment—just listening to the music and watching the headlights and taillights of cars that pass by.

You and Jaehyun ride around the city for a while longer after finishing the ice cream, not intending to go anywhere in particular but just coasting on the highways. It might be an excuse to keep listening to this new playlist he’s put on, or maybe more reason to pretend that awkward period between you never happened. Acknowledging it in a way, but not speaking any life into it. 

Eventually, though, it has to arise back to the surface. Jaehyun taps his fingers against the steering wheel at a red light, like he’s impatient to get somewhere, and you wonder what he’s feeling until he comes out and says,

“I think it was...ultimately my fault for not contacting you more. Or not trying to stay in contact.”

The words hang in the air for a moment. “Well, I won’t argue with that,” you finally respond.

“It’s just hard to get close to anyone and be an idol at the same time. Sometimes I sabotage myself when I shouldn’t, and…” He trails off, though you don’t know whether he’s searching for the words or has decided to leave his sentence at that.

“You’d rather not be embarrassed by dating a stripper, or something along those lines?” Your tone is nonchalant, though you’re a little bothered by saying it. He wouldn’t be the first or the last person to feel some type of way about your job, though you’ve mostly gotten used to the judgment at this point.

Jaehyun seems a bit startled by the statement. “If you like doing it, then I don’t care what you do. You should live your life however you want to.”

“I see,” you say slowly. “Most men I meet outside of the club are not receptive to it, so you ain’t gotta lie if you feel some other way about it, seriously...”

“I’m serious,” he insists. “You told me that day that you liked it, and I believed you. I just think...we should all be able to do things we enjoy without worrying about what others think of it.”

Jaehyun turns to look at you for a moment, and his features are lit up by the street light as it turns green. His face, which is simultaneously painted with shadows and glowing with light, appears to be just as genuine as he sounds. Or maybe this late-night atmosphere just has you feeling more receptive and sentimental than usual. Then he broaches the next subject carefully, steering you back to where the conversation began. “You didn’t text me anymore, either.”

“I figured you’d moved on or something, maybe started talking to someone else…” you reply. “And, you know, if that was the case...so be it. There wouldn’t be a point to chasing someone who wasn’t interested anymore.”

“I am interested.” Jaehyun rushes the words out, like he’s eager to dispel the uncertainty before you get the wrong idea; not that that hasn’t already happened, but still. It isn’t too late to change your mind. “I want to like, know you as a person...not just while being a customer at the club, or something like that.”

You nod, looking at your hands and considering his words. “We can do that...yeah, we can.” Then you hold your hand out to him, a grin playing on your lips. “Nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/N.”

He smiles too, and takes your hand in one of his. “I’m Jaehyun.”

The conversation after that seems to reach a turning point, like somehow you’ve broken the ice and can finally talk to each other on a deeper level without worrying about the issue that’s been lingering over your heads all night. You think you could talk to him like this for hours if you wanted to, if there was enough time in the world for it. 

Unfortunately, though, you don’t have as much time as you’d like, and once it starts edging on 4 AM, you both decide it’s probably best to call it a night. Jaehyun takes you back to your apartment after you tell him where it is.

He parks in front of the apartment complex, and you’re prepared to thank him for the night and get out, but he insists on walking you up to your apartment—something about it being too dangerous for women to walk alone at night.

“It’s not that far.” You laugh, but you aren’t going to argue about it if it means getting a few more moments with him.

Jaehyun follows you up the steps after you both get out of the car. You walk a little slower to prolong the moment, but eventually you have to get up to your apartment door. You also take your time with taking your keys out of your bag and putting them in the lock. And maybe you’re not as slick as you thought, because Jaehyun notices. He laughs quietly behind you, but the sound isn’t low enough to escape your hearing.

You turn around to look at him, your hand on the doorknob. “Well, I guess that’s it. Thanks for the ride...and for the ice cream, you know.”

He nods, and one of his dimples pokes out. “You didn’t have to entertain me tonight, but I’m glad you did...so, thanks.”

Both of you linger in your doorway for a few more moments. Jaehyun wants to come in, and you know it, but you also know he probably won’t say it because he technically shouldn’t. His members are expecting him back at the dorm. He doesn’t want to impose, and he didn’t even bring any extra clothes. But you know he wants to come in, and you want it, too.

You tilt your head to the side. “Would it be bad if I asked you to stay?” you say tentatively.

A slow smile spreads on his face. “No, it wouldn’t.”

You open the door wider so he can step inside and take his shoes off at the entrance. You lead him to your living room by the hand. “What do you wanna do?” you ask, looking at him imploringly. You want to be sure you’re both on the same page concerning your intentions.

“Whatever you wanna do,” he echoes, holding your hand a bit tighter. You expect to see lust or some similar desire in his expression and had already figured you might end up having sex again tonight, but his eyes expect nothing from you. He only smiles in the dim light of your apartment and waits for you to make the next move.

You laugh, and it comes out as an airy chuckle. “Well, then...I want to lay down. It’s been a long day.” From your tone, Jaehyun understands that you really just want to lie down and not think about much of anything else right now. He follows you when you lead him into your bedroom and sits patiently on your bed while you go to the bathroom to change into your night clothes. You’re thankful you already took a shower at the club, because you’re not sure you’d have the energy to do all that now.

He’s taken his jeans off when you come back into the room, though he still keeps his shirt on. You get onto the bed and lean over him, hooking your finger into the collar of his shirt, and he looks up at you. “You can take this off if you want, I don’t care.”

“Is this you saying you want to see me shirtless?” He grins, though he readily takes the invitation and pulls his shirt off, placing it to the side along with his pants.

You shake your head good-naturedly, a smile on your face. “I promise it’s innocent…but the view never hurts.”

You peel the sheets back and you both climb underneath them, lying across from each other and looking at each other like you want to say something more but aren’t sure what. There isn’t much light in the room except for the street lights coming from your bedroom window, muted slightly by the blinds.

Jaehyun laughs suddenly, breaking the silence, and you do the same. You’re not sure why either of you are laughing, but you do so anyway, simply enjoying the moment for what it is. After your laughter dies down, he takes your hand from where it’s resting on the pillow and slips his pinky around yours. “I’ll try not to lose you this time.”

You lean a little closer to his face so you can plant a kiss on his lips—just a short and soft touch. He tastes like ice cream, and somehow you know there will be many more kisses like this in the future. “You better not.”

[randomhl-vraifam]

So if you haven't seen @gryphsdeadbones and his incredible Gordon Cubed AU... go check it out, please. It's literally so fucking good, and you can read the comic @gordoncubed.

I asked if I could write something for this AU, and got the go ahead, so here we are! It was inspired by this ask and this ask, just in case anyone needs context for what's happening.

Anyway, uh... yeah. Here's a thing.

If you had told Gordon Freeman that, somewhere in the universe, there existed multiple versions of himself, each from very different dimensions, he might have actually believed you. He was a theoretical physicist, after all. The unknown and hypothetical was kind of his area of expertise.

However, if you had told him that his alternates were… like this? That he might have had a hard time believing. He was absolutely blown away by how much those two could talk. They did it constantly! Freeman wasn’t sure if they knew how to not talk. He considered, more than once, finding tape in one of the abandoned offices and sealing both their mouths shut.

He thought he’d be relieved if either of them decided to shut up.

Until one of them did.

Feetman (he still didn’t know what was up with that name) had been dangerously close to dying. Not that any of them were exactly safe from dying, but Feetman had ended up being a little closer to death than Freeman wanted to think about. He found himself wishing Feetman would talk more. If only to ensure that he was still conscious.

And he found himself wishing Freemind would talk less. A lot less.

It was almost as though the man felt the need to talk through the silence Feetman wasn’t filling. And he did so. Very obnoxiously. Normally, Freeman would tell him to knock off his shit, but he had a feeling that Freemind was just as nervous as he was, and the only outlet he had was talking. Freeman let it slide.

If you asked Freemind, he’d tell you that he gave absolutely no fucks about Feetman. He didn’t give a fuck about either of these idiots, aside from the fact that they were somewhat useful in getting through this hellhole. Except one of them was now considerably less useful.

Not only was Feetman less useful, he was a hindrance. Freemind didn’t like slow progress. He liked efficiency. He liked getting shit done. Dragging Feetman’s dumb ass around was not effecient and it wasn’t getting shit done. The guy seemed like he was almost always on the verge of collapsing.

So if he suggested that Feetman sit the fuck down, it was for the sake of making sure the idiot didn’t pass out and further impede their progress. Not because it bothered him to see the guy struggling to stand up straight. Because he didn’t give a fuck.

It’d gotten better after a couple of days, but only by a narrow margin. They weren’t having to stop as often, but Freeman was still adamant that Feetman not take any shifts on night watch, which Freemind found annoying as hell. He kept that opinion to himself, though. The silent member of the trio didn’t seem willing to compromise on the matter, and Freemind wasn’t willing to try and make him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off about it. Freeman could see Freemind getting more and more agitated. He snapped more often, and in more hurtful ways. There were only so many times Freeman could tell him to shut up, eventually Freemind got around to talking again.

Freeman didn’t mind stopping for Feetman when he needed it. More often than not, Freeman would have to put a hand on his left shoulder to stop him, to make him take a break. Every time, Feetman would say that he could keep going, even if he was on the verge of falling over. He hadn’t needed to stop during his first run, he’d insist, he didn’t need to stop now.

So when Feetman hesitantly grabbed his arm, Freeman stopped, immediately worried that his counterpart needed him for balance.

“Hey, uh…” Feetman looked at him blearily behind bent frames. Freeman was sure all of their glasses were damaged at this point. His own lenses were cracked. “Can we- I hate to ask, but…” He trailed off, seeming to lose his train of thought.

Freeman steadied Gordon with one hand, then quickly signed, “Do you need to stop?”

Feetman nodded. “Yeah, I think- should probably… yeah. Gordon, uh, hurt.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you serious?” Freemind groaned, clearly in one of his more irritable moods. “We’re never gonna get anywhere like this!”

Deciding to ignore Freemind, Freeman ushered their limbless counterpart to a nearby room. This wasn’t a part of Black Mesa he’d frequented, so he wasn’t exactly sure what the room was for. Peeking inside, it looked like a lab of sorts. The broken bunsen burners were a pretty good indication that this particular lab had worked with chemicals.

The room looked safe enough to hunker down for a few minutes, and he needed to check on Feetman’s arm. Probably wouldn’t hurt to check under Freemind’s eyepatch, too. He was fairly certain no one had been in there aside from a couple of aliens, considering none of the lights were on, and the cabinets that might have contained anything useful were closed.

Downside, there was probably gonna be a lot of chemical spills. Upside, there was probably a medical kit.

Feetman stopped before going in. “Why are the lights out in there?”

Freeman heard Freemind scoff behind him, but he flicked the light switch, and Feetman relaxed considerably. Freemind grew increasingly agitated as Freeman searched the room for a medical kit. “Why the fuck are you babying him? We need to move!”

Freeman pulled the lab’s medkit off the wall, tempted to throw it at Freemind, but restrained himself. “Let me see your eye.”

“Nah,” Freemind said. “I’m all good. Not gonna bitch about a stupid injury like some people.”

“Fuck you, man,” Feetman muttered. He winced as Freeman started pulling off his bandages, and waved off the signed apology.

Freemind snorted. “Yeah, no thanks.” He kicked at a pile of broken glass that had most likely been a beaker at some point. “If he’s gonna be fucking useless or whatever, then the two of us should scope the area. Make sure there’s nothing around.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, exactly, but Feetman immediately froze at the suggestion. “Uh- I don’t…” Freeman raised an eyebrow, but continued to change the bandages on what was left of his arm. He had a feeling that Feetman didn’t want to be by himself for any extended period of time. Couldn’t blame him, really.

“What?” Freemind snapped, “Gonna bitch about being alone, too?” Feetman averted his gaze, which was all the confirmation Freemind needed to know that he was right. “What are you, six? Man up.”

Freeman shot him a glare. “Go by yourself.”

Freemind scowled. “Are you stupid? I’m missing an eye! Can’t see shit coming from my left.”

“Then stay in here and stop complaining,” Freeman signed. Freemind wasn’t sure how he managed such a clipped, irritated tone with his hands, but the mute managed. He might have been something close to impressed if he wasn’t so pissed off.

“Fine,” Freemind spat. “Whatever. Don’t listen to the smartest person on the team.”

Feetman’s face scrunched in thought. “Aren’t we… like, the same person?”

“No. Because I’m better.” Freemind leaned against the wall. “Honestly, you guys are so lucky to have me around. You’d probably both be dead if I wasn’t here.” Freeman had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Something to say?”

Freeman, of course, said nothing. Freemind couldn’t decide if he could take the silence as a win or not. He couldn’t argue with someone that wouldn’t--or couldn’t--talk back, and he couldn’t win an argument they weren’t having. How was he supposed to prove he was better if Freeman wasn’t even giving him the option?

So Freemind, bored and irritated, did the only thing he could think to do: push every button until something happened. “How long are you gonna play nursemaid? I’ve got better things to do than waste away in this hellhole.”

“You’re not the only one who wants to go home, man,” Feetman said. “You’re just the only one complaining about it all the time.”

Freeman suppressed a laugh as he finished wrapping Feetman’s arm. He could see Freemind getting huffy in his peripheral, but paid it no mind. The guy had largely been all bark and no bite during this whole ordeal, although Freeman didn’t doubt the guy had started a few fights in his time. He’d probably start one now if it weren’t for the fact that they needed each other for survival.

Freemind wasn’t all bad (it was pretty damn close to all, though). Freeman had seen the softer side of him, hidden under about a million layers of a complex superiority/inferiority complex. He’d tried toughing it out the first day after he’d lost his left eye, but by the second day he was hovering closer to Freeman and Feetman.

He had called it a strategic advantage. They could see, he could not. If he had one of them on his left, they’d be his lookout, or a sufficient meat-shield. Whichever the situation called for.

Neither of them missed the way he’d occasionally reach out to tap an arm. Or the way he’d intentionally bump a shoulder and then angrily insist that they had been in the way. They didn’t say anything about it, though. Freemind would only be an even bigger pain in the ass if they pointed it out.

Freeman was less pissed that Freemind was protecting his dignity, and more pissed that he wasn’t offering Feetman the same courtesy of not mentioning his weakness. Then again, Freemind was probably too insecure to admit he cared.

“Well, at least I’m not scared of the fucking dark,” Freemind said triumphantly. “I’ve seen you clingin’ to Freeman over there whenever the lights get dim.”

Feetman rolled his eyes, “Oh, yeah. Like you haven’t been clinging to both of us the past couple of days.”

Freemind’s face reddened. In embarrassment or anger, Freeman couldn’t be sure. “Are you calling me a coward?”

“No, but…” Feetman chuckled under his breath, quietly singing, “You are a pirate.”

“Bold words coming from the cripple of the group,” Freemind seethed. “Are we ready to go or not? I’m tired of waiting around for you fucking idiots.”

Freeman snapped the medkit closed and signed, “Then go.” Freemind glared, but didn’t move. A testament to how much he actually relied on their presence.

It was a liability. One that Freemind hated himself for having. Being dependent on people wasn’t exactly his style. Yet here he was, unable to leave this stupid room because he couldn’t leave without these two idiots. Well, he could, but he wasn’t going to.

After a few more minutes of Freeman fussing over Feetman’s missing arm, Feetman claimed that he was ready to go. Freemind thought it was about fucking time, but Freeman didn’t seem so sure.

Freemind couldn’t figure out why Freeman was being such a mother hen about all this. Usually it was Feetman doing that, which made sense, considering they guy had a kid. Freemind thought he’d be glad to have Feetman off his back about his eye and everything else, but Freeman was almost worse. At least Feetman listened somewhat, even if it was just to bicker with him. Freeman would just tell him to shut up.

He ducked out of the room while Freeman and Feetman continued a mostly one-way conversation. Ironically enough, it was Freeman doing most of the talking. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We can stay a few more minutes, if you need to.”

“I said I’m fine, man,” Feetman said. “Or- well… as ‘fine’ as I’m gonna get.” He glanced out to the hallway. “Think his eye is okay?”

Freeman shrugged. “He’ll start complaining when he wants someone to look at it.”

Feetman nodded. “Yeah… alright. Guess we better get moving before he-”

“Will you two hurry the fuck up!” Freemind shouted from the hallway. “You morons are slower than my dead grandmother!”

A cheerful smile overtook Feetman’s face, taking Freeman by surprise. “Gordon,” he said happily, “I crave violence!”

The moment was gone before Freeman could question it. He’d learned to stop asking about Feetman’s little outbursts. They were his friends, supposedly. Something about his first run? Freeman didn’t know. And there was no telling what might trigger it, so Freeman mostly relied on context.

Like now, for instance. Even if the smile was cheerful, the words suggested Feetman was about two seconds from strangling Freemind with his remaining hand. So Freeman decided it’d probably be best to keep the two separate. At least until they both calmed down a little.

Freemind noticed Freeman’s efforts to keep them separated. He decided against pushing any more buttons, since Feetman seemed capable of talking back, despite his injury. And, honestly, how dare he talk back to a god like Freemind?

Really, he didn’t understand why Feetman was getting so worked up about everything damn thing. Freemind himself hated being a liability, so why was Feetman so insistent on being one all the fucking time? It was infuriating. Feetman should be just as on guard as he was, not overreacting about a dark room. They didn’t have time for him to be scared of every damn thing.

None of them liked the dark. So why was Feetman being such a bitch about it?

Freeman suddenly waved a hand to get his attention. “Storage area.”

Freemind grinned. “Nice! Might find some guns in there.”

“Or supplies,” Feetman added.

“Whatever,” Freemind dismissed, already shoving past him to take a look around the storage room.

Unfortunately, it looked pretty ransacked already, but the three men spread out to search through the splintered crates. Well, Freemind and Freeman did anyway. Feetman just seemed to be smashing them, for some reason. He stopped after a couple of minutes and frowned. “Why am I smashing crates?”

Freemind’s face twisted in confusion. This guy might actually be losing it. “Are you brain dead or something?” Feetman blinked at him. “Know what? Fuck it. Never mind.” Freeman was better at dealing with whatever that issue was. Apparently, Feetman’s… ‘friends’... really liked smashing crates.

The dude was seriously fucked up. Not just his arm, either.

He wasn’t finding anything useful, and was about to see if Freeman had found anything, when the lights suddenly flickered. “What the-” ‘fuck’ didn’t get a chance to leave his mouth before the room went completely dark.

For a moment, he thought he’d lost his other eye. A spike of panic tore through him at the thought of being totally blind during an alien invasion, but then remembered that he’d seen the lights flicker. It was just a power outage. His eye was fine.

“Um… guys?” Feetman called out. “Where- you guys still in here?”

Freemind started to answer back, ‘Yes, dumbass, of course we’re still here,’ but he stopped himself. Feetman needed to stop being a bitch about the dark, and here was the perfect opportunity for some exposure therapy. And if Freemind didn’t say anything, then Feetman would have to get over his thing about being alone, too.

It was two birds with one stone. If Feetman could handle being alone, in the dark, until the backup generator for this area kicked on, then everything else would be a cakewalk by comparison. Without Feetman bitching all the time, they could get out faster.

Genius plan. Foolproof. God, he was so fucking smart. And the best part was, Freeman couldn’t even ruin it. The guy didn’t talk, and his sign language was useless in the dark.

“Freeman?” Feetman tried again. “Did- did you guys leave?” Perfect. Feetman thought he was alone. Now all he had to do was stay calm and- “This isn’t funny, guys!”

Freemind raised an eyebrow, kind of a useless gesture in the dark, but it felt necessary. This wasn’t supposed to be funny. It was supposed to be productive. It was a solution to a problem. Freemind was fixing the problem. All Feetman had to do was stay calm. How difficult could it be?

He bit back a curse as he heard footsteps to his left. Freeman was trying to find Feetman! That would ruin this whole thing! Did Freeman not understand what he was trying to do here? No, of course he didn’t. Why would he? He was an idiot, just like everyone else.

“Who is that?” Feetman asked in a wavering voice. “What are you doing?!” The footsteps stopped. Freemind smiled, glad that his plan was back on track, but frowned again when he heard the unmistakable sound of the HEV suit hitting something. The wall? The floor? Did Feetman trip over something? What a goddamn moron.

Feetman had indeed hit the floor, tripping over a demolished crate in his attempt to back away from whoever was moving towards him.

Freemind wasn’t answering him. He couldn’t see Freeman. Did something happen to them? Were they okay? Was this another ambush? Did the other two set this up? They couldn’t have. Could they? Would they? He’d been betrayed by people he trusted before...

The darkness closed in on him more and more with every terrified thought that ran through his head. His arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat, which was entirely too fast and he couldn’t make it stop. He wanted to call out again, for Freeman or Freemind or anyone, but his throat closed up with panic before he could. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. It felt like he was dying. Maybe he was dying.

Freeman heard Feetman’s choked off gasp, and started moving again. He knew the approaching footsteps were going to freak Feetman out, but he needed to make sure his counterpart wasn’t injured. His eyes were starting to adjust a bit, letting him make out the barest outline of the boxes closest to him so he could move around them, but finding Feetman was an entirely different challenge.

Finally, he could see the vague shape of Feetman, on his knees and curled in on himself. He hoped the lights came back on soon. Because once he helped Feetman, he had a universal sign for Freemind that relied heavily on his middle finger. Was this his idea of a joke?

Feetman was hyperventilating, mumbling incoherently as Freeman slowly knelt down next to him. He tapped the floor lightly in hopes that Feetman would understand that this was a friend. Not an alien or a soldier, not a threat. But Feetman didn’t seem to register it, if anything, he only seemed to panic more.

After a few seconds of Freeman trying desperately to come up with a solution, the fluorescent lights whirred back to life. Freemind was standing on the other side of the room, looking almost annoyed at the situation. Then he saw Feetman collapsed on the ground, and his expression softened into something resembling concern.

“Whoa, the fuck?” He made his way over to his two alternates, wondering where the hell his plan went wrong. “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

Freeman sliced a hand across his throat, the unofficial sign for ‘cut that shit out’, then signed, “Help him.”

Freemind suddenly felt very out of his element. How the fuck was he supposed to help? “Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat nervously.

Nervously? Since when did he get nervous?

Maybe since he’d unintentionally plunged someone into a panic attack.

Shut up, he scolded himself. He was Gordon ‘Freemind’ Freeman. He didn’t make mistakes. He just… miscalculated. A little. Not enough to count as a failure.

“Listen, just- just calm down, it’s… the lights are back on, okay? You can stop freaking out.” There. Facts. Feetman hated the dark, and now there was no more dark.

“Shut up,” Feetman said in a strangled voice. “Sh-shut the fuck up.”

Hm. Okay. That was bad, Freemind was pretty sure. “Okay, well, I don’t know what the fuck you want me to do here, so I’m just gonna keep talking.” Feetman shook his head. “Yeah, I am. Because you’re so stuck in your own stupid brain that-” Freeman nudged him. “What?”

“Just talk,” Freeman signed angrily. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Freemind huffed. “Listen, I didn’t… I didn’t know the dark was gonna fuck with you that bad. I thought you’d, like, get over it. Which you didn’t. And that’s bullshit, but whatever. Next time I won’t do that.”

Feetman tensed. “Next time?” He asked frantically, “What- there’s gonna be a next time? I can’t-”

“What? No!” Freemind exclaimed. “That’s not what I meant, you- fuck.” He looked to Freeman for help. “Any other great ideas?”

Freeman didn’t know. On reflex, he reached out to put a hand on Feetman’s arm. Of the three of them, Feetman was probably the most touch-oriented. He knew his mistake as soon as his hand grazed the HEV suit, Feetman immediately recoiling, eyes wide with fear .

“Get away from me!” Freeman started to pull back, realizing too late that this was the wrong arm to touch in the moment. But before he could apologize, pain exploded across the right side of his face. He could see Feetman scrambling backwards through the stars in his eyes. Feetman really packed a punch.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?!” Freemind yelled. “Why’d you do that, Freeman was trying to help, dumbass!”

He shook his head to get Freemind’s attention. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have scared him.” He should have known better. He should have made sure Feetman was okay first. He refused to blame Feetman for lashing out during such a vulnerable moment.

The panicked haze in Freeman’s eyes cleared a bit. “F- fuck, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t-” Freeman shook his head, assuring Feetman that he was fine. “What happened? You… the lights went out and I couldn’t- you weren’t…”

Freeman glanced at Freemind, having more or less the same question. “Why didn’t you say anything when the lights went out?”

Freemind at least had the decency to look… guilty? The expression was so foreign on Freemind’s face that Freeman almost didn’t recognize it. “I was- I had this plan.” He stopped like he expected to be interrupted, then continued when he realized that Freeman and Feetman were still listening, “I thought you were kinda overreacting about the dark and shit. So I was trying to help you, like, get over yourself. And that didn’t, uh… that didn’t work.”

Feetman wheezed. “You- you’re an idiot.” He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Why the fuck did you think that would work? That’s the stupidest-”

“Shut up.”

“-thing I have ever heard in my-”

“Feetman, so help me god, I will turn these lights back off.”

“-entire fucking life,” Feetman finished. Freemind grumbled, but otherwise held his tongue. Feetman then turned to Freeman and winced. “Jesus, man, your face. I’m real sorry about that.”

Freeman shrugged. “I’ve had worse. It was my fault, anyway.” Feetman didn’t look convinced, biting his lip and holding his right arm tight to his chest. He figured now was probably a better time to ask, “Do you want a hug?”

“No,” Feetman said. Then, after a moment, “Maybe… yeah.” He glanced at Freemind. “As long as the resident pirate isn’t gonna be a dick about it.”

Freemind narrowed his eye. “Shut up.” But despite the venom in his voice, he leaned against Feetman’s left side. “Don’t say another word.”

Freeman slung an arm around Feetman, giving him a reassuring squeeze that neither of them could feel, but it was the thought that counted. Feetman almost immediately relaxed into the embrace, quietly muttering a word Freeman didn’t recognize, “Pog.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Freemind asked. “No, actually, I don’t care. I hate it. Don’t ever say that again.”

Feetman laughed again, lightly bickering with Freemind until all three of them were ready to go. There wasn’t much they could salvage in the storage area, unfortunately, but hopefully they’d find something later.

Freemind didn’t make another comment about Feetman’s fear of being alone or in the dark. If you asked him, he’d say that Feetman bitching about the dark was marginally more productive than him being collapsed on the floor. Again, it was all just survival.

And if anyone said that they saw him quietly talking to Feetman at night, distracting him from the dark and the pain in his arm until he fell asleep, that person was a goddamn liar.

[airplanelanding]

For the Angst April Fic: 25 - Immortality

YES THIS WAS ONE I RLY WANTED TO DO TYSM HELL YES THIS IS GONNA BE AN ANGSTY ONE (also loving the new post editor on desktopppp [i have beta on])

Tysm for sending me this one ohhh I'm so happy you sent this one

cw: temporary character death, (technically) suicide (but in the context of proving immortality & bc he knew he'd survive, not because he was suicidal)

Fic below the cut

Immortality

Merlin breathed out slowly, the air leaving his lungs with a sigh.

His eyes fell shut, drooping slowly lower and lower until they closed, and his grip on Arthur began to loosen.

Faintly, he heard a panicked voice stumbling through words he couldn't understand.

He could feel his heartrate slowing. One... Two...... Three...... Four...... Five...... Six......

Slower, slower, slower...

His name, he heard his name being called. A choked sob. A tight grip around his body. Then, nothing...

Then...

Merlin inhaled sharply, his eyes opening abruptly. There was a harsh, stinging pain in his stomach. He ignored it for the moment, as he broke out into a coughing fit, desperately gasping for breath between coughs.

He didn't—what just happened? He was sure he had—

"Merlin?!" The voice ripped him out of his confusion as he quickly turned his gaze to the man cradling his body in his arms.

"Arthur...?" Merlin asked, his voice rough from coughing so much.

"Merlin, no, but you were..." Arthur's grip on Merlin loosened, his confusion clear as day. "We have to get you back home, back to Gaius."

Merlin just groaned softly, leaning his head against the King's chest. "'m tired..."

Arthur slowly stood up, lifting Merlin in his arms as he did so he was carrying him.

"Don't fall asleep, Merlin, dammit, you're such an idiot..." Arthur muttered as he began to walk, "we're lucky we're close enough to the edge of the forest, the attack spooked the horses... You can't just keep jumping in front of me like that, sorcerer or not, one of these you're going to—I thought this time you had..."

The sorcerer just groaned again and shut his eyes.

"I did..." He whispered, trying his hardest not to let sleep take him. He felt Arthur tense, stumbling in his step slightly.

"No, no you couldn't have, because you're alive," Arthur sounded more like he was trying to assure himself rather than Merlin. "You just lost consciousness for a few minutes. That's all."

Merlin frowned but didn't argue, not having the energy. Instead he just hid his face in Arthur's shoulder. He knew he died... He felt it. He felt himself die, his heart stop... Yet, he was alive. He was breathing. He was exhausted, and his entire body ached and his stomach burned where he was struck, but... He was alive.

How was he alive?

"Merlin... Merlin, my boy, I need you to open your eyes..."

Ah, Gaius, he must be home... When did he fall asleep? Slowly, Merlin opened his eyes.

"Gaius...?" Merlin groaned, looking around for the man as he blinked a few times to clear his eyes, "What happened? I—I died... But I'm alive."

When his eyes finally landed on the old physician's grim expression, a feeling of dread washed over him.

"Merlin, I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to tell you," Gaius sighed, before sitting down on the edge of the sorcerer's bed. "Arthur brought you back, with a fatal wound in your stomach. He told me what happened and I am certain that you did not just lose consciousness, I am certain you died..."

"I did, I felt it happen, but, Gaius, I am alive," Merlin insisted, propping himself up on his elbows with a wince.

Gaius' mouth drew into a thin line. "You are, indeed. So, I did some research while you were out these past three days—"

"Three days?!"

"—and I discovered something... Something about your name to the druids," Gaius continued as if Merlin never interrupted him. "Emrys, it... Means immortal. And these events are leading me to the conclusion that they don't call you this for no reason."

Merlin's heart dropped. Immortal... He's... Merlin shook his head.

"No, no, there must be another explanation," he laughed, but he was not at all amused. Gaius sighed softly and placed a hand on his wards shoulder.

"I'm afraid there's not... I consulted Mordred, and he confirmed my suspicion. You're immortal, Merlin."

Merlin slumped down onto his magic. He felt ill... Oh gods, he felt so sick.

"But I can't be..."

Merlin took a deep breath as he paced the King’s chambers, waiting for him to arrive back from a council meeting.

How was he supposed to tell Arthur the truth?

He couldn’t lie—he promised, they promised. No more secrets, no more lies. But dammit, this was… This wasn’t just something like he had magic, or he’d ripped his favourite shirt.

He was immortal.

Oh, it felt so wrong to even think…

How do you tell someone you’re immortal? How do you tell someone you love that you’re going to live forever, that you’ll have to watch them wither away and die along with everyone else you know…?

Merlin took a nervous breath and let himself drop into a chair at Arthur’s table. He was going to have to watch everyone he’d ever loved die…

He was forced to live on for eternity while everyone he cared about struggled with mortality.

A cruel fate… Yet, the druids dared to call him blessed.

Blessed. That was a good joke.

How could one be called blessed when condemned to such a life?

Merlin ran his hands through his hair. He’d be alone… Never able to grow attached to someone, too afraid of losing them like he knew he would… A lonely life, he’d be sentenced to. Should he start pushing people away now…? Save himself the pain?

No, he couldn’t. That would be cruel to them, as well as himself…

“Merlin?” The sorcerer nearly leapt out of his skin at the voice to his right. “Merlin, you’re awake! And, up! How are you feeling?”

Merlin dropped his hands and looked over to Arthur, who looked so happy and hopeful at the sight of him. Here he was, about to crush that…

“I—” Merlin hesitated, and Arthur’s brows furrowed in a frown.

“You? You what?” The King pushed, concern flickering on his face a moment, “are you alright? You look like you’re about to be ill. Should you be out of bed yet? Gaius said you only just woke recently…”

A tense silence hung between them, as Merlin contemplated how to say the words that had been weighing on his chest. Finally, when Arthur looked like he was going to give up, Merlin found the courage to speak up.

“I can’t die,” he forced out, the words nearly getting caught in his throat. Arthur’s eyes widened impossibly wide, as he stared incredulously at his friend and lover.

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating.

“…What?” He finally got out. Merlin gave a weak smile, knowing just how crazy it sounded.

“I can’t die,” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly as the reality of it hit him, this having been the first time he spoke the words aloud. His eyes stung, but he blinked away the tears as he stared at Arthur, holding eye contact. “I…I’m immortal, Arthur.”

Arthur let out a breath, stunned by the revelation.

Merlin expected him to laugh, to claim him lying, or even to leave the room or tell Merlin to leave. Even after all they’d been through, after the months they’d been together after finally getting their heads out of their asses and confessing… Merlin was shocked, only minorly but still so, when Arthur suddenly grabbed and pulled Merlin into a tight embrace.

He tensed a moment, startled, but slowly relaxed and returned the hug, burying his face in Arthur’s shoulder.

“I don’t really know what to say,” Arthur murmured, “what do you say when you find out your soon-to-be husband is immortal?”

Merlin huffed out a soft laugh. “I don’t know… I didn’t think we’d ever have to deal with that.”

Arthur hummed softly before falling quiet. They stood there, in each other’s arms for a few minutes, just…silent. Until, finally, Merlin pulled away with a shaky breath.

“Hey,” Arthur sighed, raising a hand to the sorcerer’s face and cupping his cheek, “we’ll get through this together, yes?”

“There’s not much to get through, Arthur… I’m going to have to watch everyone I’ve ever loved die before my eyes,” Merlin muttered, before leaning into the touch, “but yes, I won’t turn down your support…”

Arthur frowned at him a moment before exhaling and stepping back to stretch. “Let’s take your mind off this. I have some new legislation to review, come assist me.”

Merlin laid in Arthur’s bed that night, unable to sleep. His mind raced, and his heart ached as he laid on his side, staring at his betrothed.

Before, Destiny had weighed him down with the possibility that he’d be forced to watch the man he loved be taken from him. Now… Now, it was inevitable. He would watch as Arthur faded from life, no matter how he died. He’d have to watch him… He would lose him and he could do nothing.

It wasn’t just Arthur, either, he realized with a pang of hurt.

Gwen… Morgana, Leon… Elyan, and Gwaine, and Lancelot… Percival… Everyone. Everyone was going to be taken from him.

Gaius… His mother.

Merlin choked back a sob, closing his eyes tightly. Everyone. Everyone.

He could never have children.

Oh, gods, he could never have children… He—he’d be condemned to watch them grow old and die.

Was this really what fate wanted for him? What destiny planned?

How cruel. How unnecessarily, unbelievably cruel. What was the point of it? Why, why do this to him? Did they simply wish to see him suffer? Did the gods believe they were granting him a favour? Did they believe they were rewarding him, by subjecting him to a life of eternal loneliness and heartache?

Did they think it amusing?

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice, thick with sleep, snapped him out of his spiral, “why are you awake, cariad? It’s the middle of the night…”

Merlin quickly wiped away the tears that had slipped free, as Arthur blinked open his eyes slowly and yawned. “Couldn’t sleep…” He mumbled, “what about you? Did I wake you?”

“Mm… Technically, no, but I could feel your eyes on me.” Arthur shifted closer and pulled Merlin against him, resting their foreheads together. “What were you thinking about? Oh, no, I know…”

He paused, yawning again, before continuing. “The immortal thing, hm?”

Merlin’s silence seemed to be all the answer needed, because Arthur sighed softly and pressed a tired kiss to his nose.

“You’re spiraling, aren’t you? It’ll be fine, Merlin,” he assured, sounding way too confident for someone who’s words were slurred, “we’ll figure something out… We always do. You won’t be alone… won’t let you…”

“I appreciate that, Arthur…” Merlin said truthfully, “now, get back to sleep… You have things to do tomorrow.”

Arthur hummed, closing his eyes again.

“You sleep, too…” He ordered as he drifted back to sleep.

“I’ll try,” Merlin promised, closing his eyes and tightening his hold on Arthur.

It was a sennight later that Merlin wandered the castle corridors with a frown on his face, eyes searching a head of blond as he walked.

Arthur had been acting strange since they discovered Merlin’s immortality, and now… Now he was just gone?

Merlin had searched the castle three times, and no one had seen him all day. He woke up without the King in bed beside him, the knights knew nothing, the servants knew nothing, Gaius and Gwen knew nothing…

It was like he just disappeared!

How does a King disappear?

Merlin took a deep breath, calming himself. He was worried, yes, of course, but he was also growing slowly angry.

How dare he just disappear without a word?! That man had better have been kidnapped for his sake. After another few minutes searching the castle, Merlin finally just stalked back to their chambers.

Arthur had better have a very good explanation when he got back, Merlin decided as he flung the doors open and stomped over to the bed before flopping onto it. Or else he’d getting turned into a toad. A big, ugly, slimy, wart-covered toad. And Merlin’s not changing him back.

Merlin groaned loudly into the duvet in frustration.

Stupid, stupid prat.

How dare he just disappear like it was nothing and leave Merlin there to worry like a mother hen over her eggs all day! He probably didn’t even realize how concerned Merlin was now.

It wasn’t like he was worried for no good reason, either, because that damn man knew how to get into trouble in any situation, and how the hell is he supposed to help Merlin deal with the fact that he’s immortal if he’s deadthanks to his own idiocy!

Merlin’s stomach turned at the thought, and he rolled over onto his back before sitting up. A frown creased his forehead, and he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth anxiously.

What if he really was in danger? What if he was really in danger and Merlin was here, thinking bad about him?

He should go look for him again.

He’s immortal, after all (yay), he doesn’t have to worry about dying protecting Arthur! Arthur, on the other hand, was a fucking beacon for assassins and danger. Right. That decided it.

Merlin pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way to the door. Then, right as he moved to open it, the door opened to reveal the very prat he was leaving to save, and his heart calmed. He was safe.

“You’re safe…” Merlin sighed, visibly relieved. Arthur frowned in confusion and nodded.

“Yes… I am,” he agreed. Then, it hit Merlin.

He’s safe.

Merlin narrowed his eyes into a glare. “I’m going to turn you into a toad and squash you beneath my boot.”

Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction, before his lips pulled up into an amused smirk.

“Well, that’s rather messy—and graphic.”

“You deserve no less, where have you been?!”

“I was, with the druids, actually,” Arthur cleared his throat, looking away, “Morgana took me to see them.”

Merlin frowned, his glare disappearing to be replaced with a confused look. “What? Why were you with the druids? What took you all day with the druids?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I… Needed their help with something. Look, it’s better if I just show you.”

The warlock raised an eyebrow, but let Arthur usher him into the room further, before sitting down at the table.

“Okay, go ahead, show me. What was worth making me worry my ass off?” Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Arthur gave him a nervous smile before pulling a small phial out of his satchel and uncorking it.

Merlin tilted his head, frowning deeply. What was he…?

“Merlin, I’m immortal, too,” Arthur told him softly, and Merlin couldn’t help it. He snorted, laughing in obvious disbelief.

“Right, and I’m a god.”

Arthur sighed and hesitated, then raised the phial of liquid to his lips.

“Here goes nothing,” he murmured before downing the contents. Merlin watched, growing more and more confused by his betrothed’s actions.

It was only when the phial slipped from Arthur’s hands and shattered on the ground as his skin began to pale and hands began to tremble that Merlin realized what was happening, and panic filled his body.

“Arthur? Arthur!” Merlin was on his feet in seconds, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders as he began to go limp, the—what Merlin now recognized as—poison taking action too fast for Merlin to think of a solution. He didn’t even know what he took! How could he help?! Arthur knew he was shit at healing magic, which was ironic considering he worked with Gaius for so long! “Arthur! Dammit, what are you doing?! Fuck, what did you do?!?”

Merlin’s heart was pounding and tears were filling his eyes as his breath quickened. “Fuck! Arthur, you bastard!” He snapped, unsure what to do, as Arthur’s body slumped in his arms.

He felt the King stop breathing in his arms and he swore his own heart stopped. Then… There was a gasp. A loud, sharp gasp. Then, a fit of coughs wracked Arthur’s body, his shoulders shaking.

Merlin was frozen, stunned. He… He was… But now he was… He really is—

“Arthur, oh, Arthur what did you do?”

Once he had stopped coughing, and Merlin had walked them over and sat them on the bed, Arthur took a deep breath and smiled stupidly.

“I had the druids show me how to use the cup of life,” he explained in a murmur, “I didn’t want you to be alone, for eternity. Now you won’t have to be.”

Merlin stared in silence at his betrothed for a few moments, shocked speechless. Arthur glanced away, coughing a bit more.

“Remind me, to never take Hemlock again,” he muttered rubbing his throat.

That snapped Merlin right out of his daze and he cuffed Arthur upside the head.

“You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place! What in the hell were you thinking?!” He demanded to know.

“I was thinking you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you I was immortal!”

“I would’ve if you just told me you used the cup!”

“Oh…”

Merlin let out a high laugh, shaking his head.

“Yes, oh!”

Arthur bit his lip, before looking away sheepishly. “Sorry… I suppose, I was just eager to tell you that you wouldn’t be alone anymore…”

A soft sigh let Merlin’s lips, and he ignored the way his heart flipped. “You’re an idiotic prat, you know? A massive cabbagehead. But… You just gave up your mortality for me… And while part of me hates that you’ll now be subjected to the same pain as I will be when our friends’ times come… I can’t help but feel so…”

“So, what?” Arthur pushed gently, laying back on the bed. Merlin shook his head and laid back beside him.

“I love you… And I can’t believe you love me so much, as to literally give up your mortality for me.”

Arthur smiled and looked over at him, his eyes drooping sleepily (probably tired from dying).

“I’d give up anything for you…”

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 17

I tweaked the prompt a little :)

[AO3]

x

Before leaving the city for small-town Maine, Lacey had told herself she wasn’t going to spend every night drinking until the early hours, as she had in New York. Since moving to Storybrooke she had mostly kept that promise to herself. During the week, anyway. Weekends were a different matter. Ruby usually had Friday nights off from the diner, but that inevitably meant that she worked on Saturdays, and while Lacey wasn’t bothered by going to the Rabbit Hole by herself, it was much more fun to have Ruby’s company while she slowly went out of her mind. Saturday evening found her at the bar in Granny’s Diner, drinking her way through a few tall glasses of ice-cold oblivion and telling Ruby about her latest unsuccessful encounter with Gold.

“So he wasn’t even dressed?” Ruby set a vodka and orange in front of her, leaning on the bar and resting her chin on her hands. “At that time in the morning? Not like Gold.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Lacey, stirring her drink with a straw. “It was weird, Rubes. I was all bracing for insults and sarcasm, and it was like he couldn’t even look at me.”

“You can’t tell me you wanted insults and sarcasm.”

“No,” she admitted. “But I think I’d choose that over being ignored.”

“Oh God…” Ruby shook her head. “Would you just ask him out already? Ask him to Zelena’s stupid dance.”

“I told you, he’s not going,” said Lacey impatiently. “And even if he was, it’s obvious he’s not interested. I mean it was obvious before, but now…”

“Maybe you just disturbed him doing something?”

“Like what?” Lacey stirred her drink moodily, and looked up. “Oh God, you don’t think he had someone there, do you?”

“Like a - a woman?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” She took a drink, enjoying the tart taste of the orange juice and the smooth heat of the vodka in her throat. “I bet he did. I bet he had someone stay the night and I woke him up from a round of hot morning sex, good God!”

“Lacey.” Ruby leaned on the bar with a patient expression on her face. “Apart from you, the only person lusting after Gold in this town is Zelena. And he would never.”

“Okay,” Lacey nodded, feeling a little better. “That’s a fair point. But it could have been someone from out of town.”

“Maybe he’s sick,” suggested Ruby. “You could have pulled him out of his death bed.”

“Hey, that’s a point.” She perked up a little. “Yeah, maybe that’s why he was off with me. Great!”

“There you go.”

Lacey groaned, slumping on the bar with her chin pushed into her folded arms.

“God, I shouldn’t wish ill health on the man, should I?” she said dolefully. “What’s wrong with me, Rubes? I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Yeah, it feels that way to me, too,” remarked Ruby.

“Why am I like this?” demanded Lacey, pushing upright again. “Past Lacey was never like this. Past Lacey would find a hot guy, have a good time, and move the hell on! Past Lacey would have been like ‘pfft, so he’s not interested, his loss’. That’s always how it was before.”

“So maybe it’s something more meaningful this time,” suggested Ruby. “Maybe present Lacey wants an actual relationship, not just hot crazy sex.”

“Oh no, present Lacey totally wants the hot crazy sex,” said Lacey, snickering as she reached for her drink. “I just need him to want me back, that’s all.”

“I told you, the ‘you seeing him naked’ thing put him off,” said Ruby. “Guys like Gold need to feel like they’re in charge.”

“Hmmm.” Lacey grinned widely. “He can do that if he wants.”

Her grin widened at the thought of Gold taking charge in a number of very delicious ways, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

“You got it bad, girl,” she observed.

“I can’t help it!” said Lacey, slapping the bar with her palms. “First time we met I saw his junk, and believe me, it was absolutely no hardship as far as I’m concerned. And since then I’ve been checking him out every chance I get.” She took a slurp of her drink to wet her throat. “I thought he looked pretty good full frontal, but did you see his ass in those pants? Biteable.”

Ruby’s eyes had gone very wide.

“Lacey, shh!” she hissed.

“What? It’s true!” Lacey waved a hand. “I always thought you’d need a big hammer to bang in a nail that size, but nope! Almost as cute and pert as mine.”

“Yeah, that’s a great point you just made about - uh - carpentry,” said Ruby loudly, and Lacey felt her brow crinkle.

“Carpentry? What the hell are you - it was a metaphor, Rubes!” she insisted. “I’m talking about how Gold should man up and nail me!”

“Hey Mr Gold!” said Ruby brightly, a somewhat desperate smile on her face. “What can I get you?”

Lacey felt as though a bucket of iced water had been thrown in her face, the shock of it making her catch her breath with a gasp. A ball of lead the size of a small watermelon appeared to have dropped into her stomach and was trying to drag her down through the floorboards and into the diner cellar. She was tempted to let it. He’s right fucking behind me, isn’t he?

“Miss Lucas,” Gold’s lazy drawl made her close her eyes in horror. “Just the rent, if you please. I leave minor - uh - carpentry jobs to those with more inclination for the task.”

Lacey wanted to die. She slipped from the stool, snatching up her bag and coat. Perhaps if she didn’t open her eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see her.

“Later, Rubes,” she muttered, and almost ran from the diner.

Gold watched her go, slim legs moving remarkably quickly considering the height of her heels. Turning back to the bar, he favoured Miss Lucas with a tiny smile, but she was glaring at him, dark eyes flashing.

“Are you stupid?” she demanded, and he frowned.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, in a freezing voice, and she threw up her hands.

“That poor girl just said out loud how much she wants to bang you, and your response is to be all snide and cutting? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What are you talking about?” he snapped. “I know full well Miss French has no interest in me other than as an object of ridicule!”

Miss Lucas put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

“Don’t you have eyes?” she demanded. “You telling me you haven’t seen her staring at you?”

“Oh, I vividly remember our first encounter,” he said dryly. “I also remember hearing her discuss it with you afterwards. You’ll forgive me if I’m not turned on by mockery.”

Miss Lucas sniffed.

“Look, if you’re getting your cock out in public you have to expect a little teasing.”

“I did not get my cock out in public!” he snapped. “It was on my own property, and frankly it’s no more your business than it was hers!”

“Yeah, well she wasn’t mocking you, she was just - surprised.”

“Oh please!” he said, in a disparaging tone. “I’ve no interest in whatever game you two are playing.”

“She just said you should man up and nail her! You heard her!”

“Really?” he said dismissively, tugging at cuffs that didn’t need it. “Hilarious, if one understands the context, I’m sure.”

“Oh my God…” She shook her head. “Blind, deaf and stupid. I should have just talked to Neal.”

“What does my son have to do with this?” he demanded, and she shrugged.

“Just saying. Something tells me he’s not as dense as you.”

Gold glared at her.

“Are you gonna give me the rent, or do I have to consider raising it?”

“Fine, resort to empty threats all you like,” she sniffed, turning away.

She unlocked the drawer beneath the counter, taking out the envelope of rent money, and slapping it on the counter. She was still glaring at him, and Gold took the money with an unpleasant smile, opening it up and beginning to count out the notes.

“She likes you,” said Miss Lucas, making him pause. “Lacey likes you. Weird as it seems to me, and as much as I don’t want to hear about her many fantasies involving you, she likes you. She likes you a lot. As in she wants to have sex with you. Also a lot.”

Gold had lost count the moment she mentioned Lacey’s name, but there was no way he was about to admit it. He gathered up the pile of bills, stuffing it back into the envelope and retrieving his notebook from his pocket.

“It’s all there,” he said stiffly, flipping through the pages. 

“Just ask her out,” went on Miss Lucas. “Or go to that dance of Zelena’s if you’re gonna be a wuss about it. Then you don’t even need to ask her out. You could just - you would be there, and she would be there, and the two of you could - you know.”

Gold could barely see what he was writing, but he pretended that he knew what he was doing. He wrote the date out with such a flourish that it tore the paper, and slipped the notebook back into his pocket. The envelope of money followed it, his hands shaking a little.

“Thank you, Miss Lucas,” he said, his tone hollow. “Do give my regards to your grandmother.”

Turning on his heel, he fixed his gaze on the door and limped towards it as though it was the path to his salvation.

“Why are you both such idiots!” called Miss Lucas, and he flinched as he grasped the door handle.

Getting out into the cool summer evening, he let the door close behind him, and exhaled slowly, head rolling back as he let the soft breeze caress his skin. Surely Miss Lucas wasn’t being serious? Admittedly Lacey had said something extremely suggestive about him, but what if it was part of their banter, the joke that never got old. Gold and his naked body, forever an object of ridicule.

What if it wasn’t? A voice in his head whispered to him, a faint spark of hope igniting deep within him. What if she actually likes you? You could go to that tedious charity ball. By the sound of it, she’ll be there, no doubt reporting for the Mirror. You could ask her to dance. That wouldn’t arouse anyone’s suspicions. Maybe not even hers. And if she does like you...

The idea of Lacey actually returning his feelings was too heady to contemplate, and Gold shook his head, striding off down the street. No. He would think about this intriguing possibility when he was in the safety of his own home and with a large glass of something strong. He definitely needed a little Dutch courage to plan his next move.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Ignorance is Blitzed (Part One)

When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initally thought. WARNINGS: you get poisoned and feel pretty shit, there are some potty words, but all in all pretty tame (FOR NOW).

This will probably be at least a two part-er, so let a sister know if you want to be tagged(?)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You’d barely had a chance to get out of the building you’d been searching before you coughed so violently you fell to your knees, a horrible gasping sound tearing its way out of your throat before you even have a chance to scream for a medic.

You were dying. You had to be dying.

You’d found an ivory crushed tablet at the bottom of a footlocker you’d found inside of the bombed out general store the Nazi’s had been using as sleeping barracks, and instantly pinched some of it between your fingers for closer inspection, rubbing the chalky dust between your fingertips to see if it had the same texture as aspirin. 

It wasn’t uncommon for one of you to find medications and other rations in footlockers and other personal items during an inventory search, and most of the time you could easily figure out what it was and whether or not it was something Doc or someone else might need. 

But this tablet and it’s powder were unfamiliar (aspirin would’ve had a more obvious, sour odor that you would’ve clocked the minute you’d opened the footlocker’s lid), and when you brought it to your nose to sniff it more critically you instantly regretted it—the smell was chemical and harsh and it burned your nasal passage in a way you’d never experienced before. Your eyes had instantly watered and you’d exhaled sharply through your nostrils in a vain attempt to make the hurt go away.

The pain spread up your head and spiderwebbed into your brain. A bursting prickle of pain behind your eyes flared like a burning star, your face had begun feeling hot and your head was ringing. 

It’s too hot in here, I have to get out of here so I can breathe.

You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes as you stumbled back out the way you had come, bumping heavily between the rough stone of the wall and your friends as you desperately tried to remember the way out. 

You felt sick to your stomach as your skin breaks out into a cool sweat. Panic was setting in, with your ability to breath compromised as well as your hearing beginning to go white.

“Y/n?” you think you hear Martin calling your name through the fog that is taking residence in your ear canals, and something is trying to pull your hands from your eyes. “Hey kiddo, what’s wrong? What’d you find—?”

“DON’T!” You blurt, opening your eyes and wishing you hadn't when the room begins to spin. You see the light of the doorway over Bull’s shoulder-Bull? When did he get here?- and you close your eyes and forget everything else except for forward and outside and I can't breathe….

“Hey!” Someone (Luz?) growls as you shove the shape of him out of the way, and you don’t think you’re making sense but you’re talking all the same.

Stop talking, you need air!

When your knees hit the hard ground you barely have a chance to catch yourself on your hands before you dry heave so hard you can feel the ache of it in your ribs. Your heart is beating too fast and hard in your chest and if you could feel your hands you’d use them to tear some of your layers away because you’re boiling alive and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Fuck, what happened—WHAT HAPPENED?!”

With a great deal of effort you crack your eyes open again and spot Ron Speirs’ signature glare coming your way, shucking off his vest and bag without breaking stride as he neared. You’re aware of Martin and Bull by your sides, but you can’t seem to figure out what they’re saying.

Why is no one helping me? Can’t they see I’m dying?

“Don’t touch the tab- cough cough….the footlocker….!” you try again, tasting blood in your mouth after you released another hacking cough, and you’re dimly aware of Bull pulling your hat off of your head and sigh at the blissful chill of fresh air on your clammy skin.

“We got it, no one’s gonna touch it, y/n—” he murmurs somewhere to your left, and you think you nod in understanding but you can’t be sure/

“What’s happening?” Ron snapped, his rough hands grabbing your face and tilting it up so he could look at it. “Where does it hurt, y/n—?”

“I can’t breathe! It's so hard to breathe— Fuck, i think my brain is melting…”

“Your brain?” his voice is lower in volume now, yet your head still throbs as if he were shouting. Your head is thudding in time with your heartbeat, and you don't realize you’ve been crying until his thumbs brush away from the tears clouding your vision.

A tremble runs through your body and you squeeze your eyes shut as the world tilts from side to side unreliably. 

His rough hands are abruptly snatched back, but you can’t open your eyes to keep track of where they have gone. 

Suddenly, a set of arms hook under your knees and shoulders and you're lifted from the ground, your head reeling.

“Don’t!” she gasps as the person carrying her begins to quickly walk back the way you’d seen that Speirs had come from. “I’ll get sick on you—!“

“Then get sick on me. It’s not the worst thing to happen to this coat.” Ron says matter-of-factly, making his grip on you painfully tight as he begins barking orders at people around you.

“Ron—” you try again, but your body spasms in his arms as the pain in your head crests to new heights. “Oh, God, I think I’m dying—”

“Shut up.” He hisses, and you think you hear a stain of panic in his command. “Just shut up and try to stay awake”

You sob as you lean your head against his shoulder, your bones too big for your body and your skin aching.

The next time you blink Roe is suddenly there, and your mouth is so dry your tongue creaks as it moves in your mouth. 

You’ve been set on a lumpy mattress somewhere and Ron, Nix, Bull, and Roe are standing around you and talking amongst each other too quickly for you to catch. 

By some miracle you are able to shove Roe away from your side just in time to avoid your vomit as you lean over the side of the bed and throw up painfully onto the ground where his feet had just been.

Your head is so foggy now, and everything hurts so badly you wish that you would just die and be done with the whole thing.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up about that?” you hear Ron chide, and hands are smoothing your hair off of your face and neck with a gentleness you didn’t expect from someone so rough. “You heard the Doc, didn’t you?”

You shake your head because you honestly had no idea what Eugene may have said (because up until recently you hadn’t even known he’d been there), letting another set of hands push your shoulders back until you were laying on the mattress again. 

You felt Roe rubbing at the skin inside of your elbow as he prepared some sort of injection, and you tried your best to hold still so he could find a vein.

“C’mon, y/n,” Nixon’s voice was far away, and in your delirium you could’ve sworn he sounded just like your dad. “I know it’s tough but try to stay still—”

Home, home, should’ve stayed home. Wouldn’t have died like this at home….

“It’s okay, darlin’” Roe mumbled, cursing in French as another spasm of trembling runs through you. “It’s gonna be over soon—”

Before you can even begin to panic about that promise, hands grab your face again and turn your head away from the doctor, and when you open your eyes all you can see is Ron.

“It’s not poison, you’re not dying, Y/n- look at me! Good, now just look at me and the Doc’ll give you something to make you feel better—”

Th poke of the needle makes you cry out like a baby, but rather than getting angry with you Ron just nods and makes a soft tsking sound under his breath.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

You watch those dark eyes of his harden as he shoots a look towards Roe. “How long till that shit kicks in—?”

“Seconds. It may not knock her out, but she should start feeling better right away—”

Speirs didn’t bother waiting for the man to finish before looking back down at you and softening his gaze once more.

He must be scared, he wouldn’t be acting like this in front of other people if he wasn’t scared i might not make it.

Whatever Roe had injected you with was cold in your veins, blissfully cold, and you could feel it turning your spasming limbs to lead with each slowing thud of your heart.

Taking what had to be the first deep breath you’d taken in hours, you watch as Ron nods and makes a point to sync your breathing, his breath cool of your damp face as he exhales with you.

“Good, good. That’s good, sweetheart….”

Your eyes lose their ability to focus, eyelids now too heavy to keep open.

But the idea of letting them close and going to sleep filled you with dread, and even though you couldn’t articulate your concern Ron seemed to read your mind and you felt his lips at the shel of your ear.

“I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise you that you’ll be okay, okay?”

You weren’t sure if he was saying it more to you or to himself or to the other men in the room, but you nodded all the same.

A cool cloth is wiped across your brow and you feel yourself sinking into whatever medicated slumber Roe has concocted for you.

“What the fuck is Pervitin and what the hell was it doing in an SS footlocker?”

Bull’s voice sounds like it’s underwater, and the harder you try to listen and see what the answer is, you quicker you slip into the cool and inviting darkness that curled around the edges of your mind.

I could rest, you think with resigned exhaustion as you let yourself fall from consciousness. It’s been so long since I’ve rested….

The weight of Ron’s hand on your cheek was the last thing holding you to the world, and when that slipped away you followed suit.

And nothing hurt anymore.

******IMPORTANT HISTORICAL CONTEXT: 

After discovering boxes of tablets labeled Pervitin on a downed German supply plane (if i remember this correctly), the Allies realized that the Axis countries had developed a performance enhancing drug that would: 1. Keep soldiers awake and active for days at a time without needing sleep/food, 2. Increased aggression and confidence in battle, and 3. Kept soldiers from slipping into ‘shell shock’.

BIG PROBLEM THOUGH, BC PERVITIN IS LITERALLY JUST METH. REALLY REALLY PURE AND CONCENTRATED METH (which is BAD!)!

So, the Allies said to themselves: “Self, self here. Listen- what if we came up with our own Pervitin for our soldiers so they too can be better/faster/stronger?”

So, the Allies came up with Benzedrine- WHICH IS ALSO METH AND STILL VV BAD FOR YOU!

In this story, reader stumbles across some accidentally and unknowingly ends up ingesting it and you get vv sick (which is also a thing that happens to ppl who accidentally inhale amphetamines). Bc I’m a nerd I looked it up that nowadays you’d probably be given some sort of Benzodiazepine/nourishing fluids cocktail to counteract the side effects, so we’re gonna pretend that’s what the cure is in the 40s  MKAY? MKAY. 

(also tagging @mrsalwayswrite​ bc rumor has it they also have a soft spot for our dashing murder prince with nice hair and death in his eyes)