#and makes these leaps in logic that make sense to him and if you track it yeah it makes sense but how and why did you think down that path

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you've loved before part six

author's note: okay......so i can explain. i know it's been like four months, but i swear it wasn't on purpose and tbh i lost track of time. so here's it is after months of waiting. i promise i didn't forget about it, i just had other projects i was working on (like the 30k words i wrote for two separate fics) that really took up most of my inspiration. there is a time jump in this, but not a huge one. but enough excuses! here's to part six (which is 9.4k words, i figured y'all deserved it)!

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, fear of falling in love, moving into angst city baby

day forty-five

you woke up in an unfamiliar place. disoriented, you looked around, noting that it was still dark outside. there was a weight around your waist that was familiar in the sense that you'd felt that sensation before, but unfamiliar in that it smelled like someone new. your heart started racing at the feeling, until you recognized it for what it was: an arm.

your heart rate settled for a moment until you blinked and realized that while you were at home, you were in a different room and considering there was no crib, you could only make one leap in logic:

it was mat's room.

jason's words came back to haunt you almost immediately.

he'll get bored of you eventually. people always do.

your hands felt clammy as you slowly slid out of mat's hold. your knees were shaking. the air was too thick to breathe evenly, but you knew if you started hyperventilating in mat's room, he might wake up and freak out with you.

so you took some shaky breaths and then booked it back to your room.

you stared up at the ceiling for two hours until ella woke up. immediately, you got up, thankful for a distraction from the conflict brewing inside your chest.

when you opened your bedroom door, mat was standing across the hall in his own doorway. his hair was disheveled and his white tee shirt was askew, but it was clear he had the same thought as you.

the two of you stared at each other until one of ella's cries snapped you both back to reality.

"i'll get her," you said quickly before darting into ella's room and ignoring the feeling of his eyes on you. they burned into your back like someone was steaming the clothes hanging off your body.

in the crib, ella was kicking her legs and flapping her arms as much as her sleep sack would allow. and for a moment, you forgot the momentary discomfort at the sight of her gummy smile.

"good morning, sweet girl," you crooned. you reached into the crib and unzipped her sleep sack before picking her up and into your arms. she immediately snuggled into your chest, tucking her head under your chin.

you changed her diaper before heading out to the kitchen where mat was cooking eggs.

you wouldn't look him in the eye, just focused on getting ella into the high chair. mat walked past you, putting her plate of fruit on her high chair tray. it was the closest you'd been since that morning in his bed. and while it was technically innocent, it didn't feel innocent.

as much fun as he was, you'd forgotten that mat was still technically your boss, a friend too, but your boss nonetheless. and sleeping in his bed, regardless of how much you believed you needed it, was a mistake.

you couldn't lose this job, lose ella, lose sydney, but you didn't think you could handle losing mat. not entirely.

so you'd settle for losing the smaller moments of closeness. you'd stay professional with him if only for the sake of keeping your heart and income safe.

god, you hated thinking of him just as an income, but jason's words rang in your head like a small town church bell at noon. was he just waiting to sleep with you? was he just taking pity on you?

it was too early to get a headache.

you sat in a chair next to ella and checked your phone for any messages when a plate was placed in front of you with eggs made in the way you loved and a piece of toast.

"it was all i could manage without giving you food poisoning," mat said sheepishly.

you said a quiet thanks and turned your attention back to your phone, missing the way mat's face contorted into a frown.

"what do you have planned for today?" he asked, taking the seat across from you.

you shrugged, not feeling too keen on going out in public after what happened the night before. you weren't stupid, logically you knew new york was a large city and the odds of running into natalie or jason were slim, but you saw them last night and you weren't too eager to chance repeating the same thing.

"i think we'll just take it easy, stay home and hang out," you said. the words what about you were sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you kept your mouth shut.

mat hummed as he took a bite of his toast. "i'm gonna go work out with tito before practice, and then i think we have some interviews or media to do," he said.

you nodded but said nothing. when ella finished her breakfast, which looked like her tossing eggs onto the floor, you scooped the plate up and hurried back into the kitchen, excited to do something more than just sitting in a room with mat. you started washing the plate, not even thinking about the dishwasher three feet away.

"i can get that," he said, reaching around you and grabbing the plate straight out of your hands. he placed in in the dishwasher before grabbing the broom and sweeping up the eggs on the floor as he cooed at his daughter.

your heart lurched in your chest at the sight, at the view of him being so gentle and doting. you cleared your throat and dusted your clean hands on your pants to keep them from doing something stupid like pulling mat to you and asking him to hold you like he did last night.

"i hate to rush off," mat started as he placed the broom back in its corner and washed his hands. "but i told tito i'd actually be on time today." he got ella out of her high chair and kissed her chubby cheeks. "dada loves you ella bean," he said before approaching you.

you did your best to prepare for eye contact. but the bottom line was as soon as you met his eyes, you couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

he was the prettiest man you'd ever seen, with an even bigger heart.

you snapped out of it when ella reached for you, focusing on how her downy brown hair was growing longer, instead of how she was a complete carbon copy of her father.

for a second, you almost felt bad for her birth mother, nine months of being pregnant, all that labor, only for ella to look just like mat.

but then you remembered that same woman dropped her daughter off with him with just a note, and any lingering feelings of empathy and pity immediately vanished.

you took ella and scampered off to her room, ready to get out of mat's presence.

the two of you were playing with some of her toys when you heard mat call out a goodbye before the door shut behind him.

it wasn't until the lock clicked that you could finally breathe.

day fifty-five

"are you coming to the game tonight?" sydney asked over the phone.

you had your cellphone tucked between your shoulder and your ear as you prepped ella's lunch for the day. the baby in question was babbling to herself when she wasn't stuffing her face with the cheerios you gave her until you could give her lunch.

"uh..." you hesitated, trying to play it off like you were too focused on mashing up bananas.

"oh come on," sydney said. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."

"you saw me last week."

"that was seven days ago. you didn't even come to the game earlier this week. what was that about?"

the words were on the tip of your tongue, the truth dangled in front of you like low hanging fruit, but you couldn't get yourself to say it. not in his home, not when he would be getting home shortly, not in front of ella, even though she would never be able to repeat it.

sydney said your name. "are you there?"

you sighed through the receiver. "i'll be there."

"great! i'll pick you up!" she said before hanging up.

you and ella ate in silence until mat came through the front door. ella immediately squealed and threw her bananas in the air, some of which landed in her hair, other pieces ended up on the floor.

"ella bean!" mat smiled as he dropped his things on the ground.

he walked over and you shot up out of your seat to walk into the kitchen under the guise of grabbing paper towels to clean up her mess.

"how was she?" mat asked, taking over your job in supervising his daughter eating her lunch.

you shrugged even though he couldn't see you. "she's been fine. it's been a normal day."

"are you coming to the game tonight?" he asked. truthfully, he'd asked you earlier that morning, or maybe the word begged was a better word to use. you could tell he was disappointed that you hadn't gone to his game earlier that week, but he was never going to pressure you.

"yeah, we're riding with sydney."

"do you have anything to wear?" he asked.

your back was turned, so you didn't see the hopeful gleam in his eye. so when you shrugged and said "sydney said she would get me a shirt," you didn't see the way his shoulders sagged and how the corners of his mouth turned down.

when you turned back around, he was back to looking happy.

you started cleaning up the banana off the floor while mat handed ella her water cup.

"she takes a nap right after lunch, right?"

you looked up at him to find him already staring at you. his hazel eyes felt like they could see right through you, like they could tell you were pulling away and wanted to know why.

you nodded, rendered speechless by his gaze.

"i'll put her down, i've missed her." he booped her nose which made her immediately shriek and squeal. "i don't have to be at the arena for another two hours, so you're free to do whatever."

you expected as much, after his first long roadie, mat wanted to do everything concerning ella. considering he got back earlier that week before having a home game two days later, he hadn't been as present as he would like.

and the result was always a clingy mat.

"sounds good," you said.

maybe you'd text sydney to hang out at a coffee shop for the time being. or maybe you'd lock yourself in your room under the guise of napping while you stared at the ceiling and wondered how you got into this situation.

as ella finished up, the idea hit you immediately.

erin, the woman who you nannied for first.

when mat put ella down, you snuck out the front door and across the hall, praying she would be home. you knocked and waited, fully expecting to turn around and go back to mat's apartment.

you stood outside for all of five minutes before turning back around and heading back into mat's apartment.

"everything okay?" mat asked when you walked back inside the apartment. he was just coming from putting ella down if having one of the baby monitors in his hand was any indication.

"yeah, i'm fine," you said. "i'm just gonna go lay down for a little while."

"oh," he replied. "thought we could watch one of those reality shows you like. felt like i haven't seen you in awhile."

you gave him a small smile. "rain check? i'm really tired."

mat smiled back, though it wasn't as confident as it usually was. if you looked hard enough, you could see the edges of it shake, like he was doing his best to keep up appearances.

but you headed back to your room before you could do something stupid like apologize for the emotional distance and ask for forgiveness.

you got got into bed and stared at the ceiling, only taking your gaze off of it to turn your baby monitor on. you weren't sure how long you were in that borderline comatose state, just repeating jason's cutting words in your head, when ella woke up.

you got up when she cried, fully expecting mat to be gone by then, considering it had been an hour and a half. but you walked into ella's room to see him pulling her out of her crib in his game day suit.

and it should've been illegal to see him snuggle and kiss her cheeks. to witness him cooing back at her as he changed her diaper. you leaned against the door frame, unable to keep your heart from soaring at the sight. just to think, a month and a half ago, he was terrified, now he was changing a diaper like he'd done it his entire life.

he didn't notice you until he turned around and nearly jumped ten feet in the air at the sight of you standing there. "jesus fucking christ," he said. "you scared me."

you couldn't help yourself. "you don't say," you quipped with a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

mat closed the distance between the two of you and passed off ella. "i hate to run, but--"

"you don't have to explain yourself to me," you said. "we'll see you later."

he nodded and booked it out of the room, but not before pressing a kiss to the side of ella's head.

you heard the door lock behind you a beat later.

you and ella spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around before it was time to start getting ready for the game. you had her dressed in her barzal jersey and a coat while you slapped on a pair of jeans and a tank top, waiting for sydney to bring you the shirt you'd end up wearing.

it was a quarter to six when sydney knocked on the door. she had her daughters with her. winnie immediately went to see ella, who was sitting in her playpen with one of her toys in her mouth.

"you look cute," sydney commented before tossing the shirt at you. without even thinking about it, you tugged the shirt over your head and threw on the jacket you had laid out on the couch.

"so do you," you replied while slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder. you quickly scooped ella up and looked at sydney. "you ready?"

she nodded as the two of you got three kids out to her suv. you had ella in one arm, her car seat in the other, with her diaper bag weighing heavily on your shoulder.

fifteen minutes had passed by the time you got all the girls in the car and strapped in yourselves. you thought everything was normal until sydney turned the music on a little louder and looked at you from the corner of her eye.

"what's going on with you and m-a-t," she spelled out his name probably as a precaution to prevent winnie from picking up any details.

you froze, but tried to play it off. "what do you mean?"

sydney rolled her eyes. "don't play dumb. you asked me for a shirt to wear tonight instead of raiding his closet like you usually do. you didn't go to the game earlier this week under some flimsy excuse."

you sighed, knowing you had been caught.

but sydney wasn't done.

"not to mention, m-a-t asked me what happened at the bar because you'd been distant ever since and hadn't talked to him about it." sydney sighed. "i'm not mad," she said. "i just want to know what's going on with you, i thought things were going well. you two seemed..."

you looked over at the blonde. "seemed like what?"

she shrugged. "just thought you two were a good fit is all."

you groaned. "syd--"

"but we don't have to talk about it, i just think you need to have a conversation with him sooner rather than later."

whatever you had to say was cut off by winnie screaming out the lyrics of baby shark.

the five of you arrived with an hour left until the puck drop. thankfully, the wags rented a suite which meant you didn't have to contend with a huge crowd and ella didn't have to feel confined to just one seat the entire night.

grace along with the other wags greeted you and ella with grace offering to take ella from you in exchange for a margarita, an offer you couldn't turn down.

when the boys came out for warmups, you went with sydney and her daughters and ella down to the ice. ella fought the headphones on her head, she kept reaching for them but you had to pull her little hands away so she wouldn't hurt her ears.

it took a few seconds for matt martin to spot the five of you before he was skating over and waving at his daughters and wife. he smiled at you and ella, tapping the glass once before continuing his warm ups. it was seconds later when your mat showed up with a big smile on his face. ella shrieked, and though the sound was lost in the ruckus of the arena, mat looked happier.

your eyes met and the noise died down, even if it was for a brief moment.

you okay? he mouthed.

you nodded and gave him your most convincing smile. it seemed to do the trick because he was beaming back at you as he skated away backwards, eyes locked on yours.

you turned away and caught sydney staring with a smirk. and while she didn't say anything, you could almost hear her train of thought.

when the game finally started, you were all back in the suite. ella was clinging to you, refusing even the idea of being held by someone else. you couldn't blame her, it was getting close to her bedtime and she was always clingy around that time.

you did your best to pay attention to the puck, to the other players on the ice, but your eyes kept finding 13 whether he was on the bench or the ice. he kept glancing around the ice, probably following the puck like you should be, and occasionally talking to his teammates.

you turned when someone nudged you. grace was standing there with a cup of ice water in her hands. "do you wanna sit?" she asked. "i know your arm is getting tired." you smiled and nodded thankfully, following her over to a pair of seats.

she let you sit in silence for just a moment before she started talking. "are you okay? you seem lost in thought tonight."

part of you wanted to be annoyed with the constant interrogation. no one had ever asked you this many times if you were alright. but that thought alone had your heart lurching.

no one had ever checked on you this many times like sydney, grace, and mat had. it was an unusual feeling, and one that made your heart beat faster in your chest while also making your stomach turn.

"i've just got a lot on my mind," you said, hoping the answer would suffice.

grace nodded, like she could recognize when it wasn't worth the effort to keep pestering. "if you ever need someone to talk to, i'm here. i know running into an ex is never fun."

you kept a straight face even though grace hit the nail on the head.

the game continued on with the islanders winning 6-2. but you had been so out of it, if anyone asked, you wouldn't be able to tell them who the isles played against.

you made your way down to the locker rooms with ella sleeping against your shoulder and the diaper bag slung over the other shoulder. you would've put her in the car seat, but after an earlier attempt ended in her crying and screaming for ten minutes before she fell back asleep, you decided to just hold her. grace had the car seat in one hand so you wouldn't have to carry it while holding winnie's hand with her other one so sydney could carry her diaper bag and her youngest.

the three of you waited with the other wags, making small talk amongst yourselves like you had all night.

anders came out first and kissed his wife before greeting everyone else. matt came out shortly after with casey. his attention was immediately drawn to winnie who ran into his legs with zero hesitation.

you waited for ten minutes before your mat came out with his game day suit on and wet hair. it felt as familiar as your mother's homemade cooking.

he smiled when he saw you, anything anthony was telling him didn't matter anymore.

"what'd ya think?" he asked.

"you played a good game."

his gaze drifted from your eyes to your lips then to the baby on your shoulder. his brows creased in confusion. "she didn't sleep in the car seat?"

"we tried, but she screamed and wouldn't settle unless i was holding her."

he nodded before adjusting the bag in his hand so he had a free one to scoop the car seat out of grace's grip. he nodded towards the diaper bag on your shoulder. "want me to carry that?"

"you saying i'm not strong enough to carry it by myself?" honestly, you were supposed to be keeping things professional between the two of you, but you just couldn't help but quip back at him. not when he made it so much fun.

mat rolled his eyes and took the bag off your shoulder and slung it over his own. "let's go home."

day sixty-eight

with christmas approaching, you were spending all of ella's nap times, packing your bags and wrapping presents. thankfully, you had the foresight to ship your family's christmas presents to your parents' house.

it was just a matter of wrapping mat and ella's presents.

you might've gone overboard with ella's presents, spending too much money on books and a stuffed animal you thought was cute. mat's present was different.

it was always gonna be different.

originally, you weren't even sure if you were going to get him a present considering you were trying to keep things professional. but sydney let it slip that his present to you was really thoughtful, so you immediately left the apartment as soon as mat got home.

in the end, the tie felt a little impersonal, but you added a note, heartfelt enough to not be insulting, but maintaining an air of professionalism. you kept the presents in your room, knowing mat wouldn't try to guess what you got him if it was out of sight.

mat had roped you into decorating for christmas, a tradition he hadn't honored since moving out to new york, but with it being ella's first christmas, he was going all out.

with ella's first christmas approaching, mat's family made plans to fly in two days before to attend the game. you made plans to leave the city so his family didn't have to get a hotel room and you could miss the christmas eve traffic.

your bags were packed by the door while mat got ella ready.

"who's driving you to the airport?" he asked at the dinner table the other night.

"no one," you said after you'd swallowed your food. "i'm taking an uber."

mat made a noise in the back of his throat. "no you're not. i'll drive you. what time do you have to be at the airport?"

"mat, it's not that serious."

"it is to me. so again, what time do you need to leave?"

mat came walking down the hallway with ella all bundled up against the cold weather that was raging just outside the window. snow flurries were falling down at a rapid rate, something that might've concerned you had mat, a canadian, not been the one to drive you.

he handed ella off to you before scooping your bags up in one hand and opening the front door with the other.

"you don't have to carry my bags, mat."

"well, you're carrying my child, so why would i make you carry bags on top of that?"

"you could've carried ella!"

"not when i was planning on carrying your bags! now let's go, you don't want to miss your flight, now do you?"

the three of you headed out to his car and loaded it up. mat placed your bags in the trunk while you strapped ella in before you both hopped in the front and headed towards the airport.

"you excited to see your family again?"

you nodded. "it'll be good to see everyone again."

"you don't have any relatives you'd rather avoid?"

you couldn't help it, a laugh burst out of your mouth without your permission. "actually not this time around but--"

an alert on your phone cut you off.

flight BA4739 has been cancelled due to a mechanical issue.

"you've gotta be shitting me," you said.

mat glanced at you before quickly turning his eyes back to the road. his attention, though, was still on you. "what happened?"

"my flight's cancelled."

mat eased into the right lane and began the drive to the apartment. "are there any flights you can catch?"

you were a step ahead of him, checking every possible flight out of jfk and shaking your head when you came up empty handed. "it doesn't look like it." you sighed and pressed your head against the head rest. "god, i'm sorry mat. i know your family is coming in tomorrow and this puts a dent in things."

he scoffed. "it's fine, just means they'll have to get a hotel, but i can take care of that easy."

your eyes shot open. "mat, don't put them in a hotel, i can find someone to stay with."

"i'm not kicking you out of our home. that's ridiculous."

you clenched your jaw to keep it from dropping at his statement. mat said it so plainly, it was almost like it wasn't a big deal.

"mat--"

"listen, you're not going to a hotel, that's final. when we get home, we'll check for the next flight out and i'll buy the tickets."

"you don't have to--"

"consider it my christmas present to you," he said like there weren't presents under the tree with your name carefully written on them.

you rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

when the three of you got back to the apartment, you grabbed ella while mat took the bags. the second you three were settled, you were pulling out your laptop and double checking for flights. when you couldn't find anything, you sighed and resigned yourself to a white christmas in new york.

day sixty-nine

you and ella were dancing to christmas music in the living room when the barzals came in through the door.

"let me see my grandbaby!" nadia said, dropping her purse on the couch.

you handed ella over immediately, though you hung around for a second to see if she would cry. but ella just smiled and stuck a fist in her mouth.

liana came through next, hugging you briefly before turning her attention to her niece.

a man who you'd never met but knew to be mat's father walked in carrying bags of his own with mat following behind him. you fully expected to be bypassed in favor of ella, and you wouldn't even blame him. but he stopped in front of you and placed the bags on the ground at his feet. with a heavy hand he'd placed on your shoulder, mike barzal began to speak.

"thank you," he said. "thank you for taking care of my son and my grandchild. when we heard the news, my wife and i were trying to figure out what to do, but then mat called a few days later and sang your praises." he squeezed your shoulder gently. "i can't tell you how much it means to us knowing that you're here taking care of ella and helping mat."

you managed a smile, not really having the words to communicate how much having mat and ella has changed your life.

mike squeezed your shoulder one more time before walking over to where his wife and daughter stood.

mat approached you next, the bags he carried in were resting by the door.

"i can sleep on the couch, or go out and buy an air mattress and sleep in ella's room," you said. "just say the word."

mat rolled his eyes and elbowed you lightly. "quit it. this is your home too, i'm not kicking you out."

"i hope i didn't hear you offering to vacate your room," nadia turned around and faced you, quirking an eyebrow. "we're not going to make you leave."

"you wouldn't be making me do anything, i'm offering--"

"and we're denying the offer," she said matter of factly. "there's a nice hotel not too far from here."

"i don't want to split up your family for christmas!"

nadia approached and with the arm not holding ella, she reached out and squeezed your hand. "sweetheart, you've been taking care of my babies, you're family to me now."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"i'm sorry you don't get to spend christmas with your family," she started. "but i'm glad i get to watch you open the presents we got you in real time."

your jaw dropped. "mrs. barzal you didn't have to--"

she shook her head. "you deserve to be appreciated, sweetheart." then she directed her attention to ella. "isn't that right, baby?"

liana turned her attention to you. "are you going to the game tonight?"

you shook your head. "i'm going to grace's to help with last minute decorations for the team christmas party."

"are you taking ella?"

you shrugged. "i figured i'd leave that up to you. i can take her if you'd rather focus on the game and not a cranky baby.

nadia pressed kisses to ella's cheeks, enough that the little girl shrieked with laughter. "let's play it by ear, if she's cranky before the game, she can go with you, if that's alright."

you smiled and nodded.

as the day went on, ella stayed in pretty high spirits, even when mat left to head to the arena. she took a lengthy nap which gave nadia enough confidence to take her to the game. you ubered to grace's house, a secret that was meant to stay between you and liana, who saw you ordering the ride.

you arrived at grace's house five minutes before the puck dropped. in true hockey wife fashion, she had the game pulled up in the living room so you could watch while you worked. sydney's daughters were camped out in front of an ipad, watching bluey while their mom came in and out of the room with bags of groceries. grace's daughters, you were told, were already in bed.

"where's the baby?" winnie asked when she saw you.

you couldn't help yourself and laughed. "she's at the game."

"why aren't you with her?"

you smiled and squatted down to look her in the eye. "her grandparents are watching her, so i came over here to help."

winnie furrowed her brows, scrutinizing you. "but you're her mom, you're supposed to be with her. my mom is always with me."

"i'm not ella's mom, winnie. i'm her babysitter. like when your parents go out sometimes and they have a babysitter watch you? that's my job."

"then where's her mom?"

you opened and closed your mouth a few times before you realized the words just failed you. there was no way to say the truth other than plainly.

so you shrugged and said "i don't know."

sydney and grace rounded the corner and smiled when they saw you, greeting you with hugs.

"so it shouldn't take too long," grace started. "we're just adding a few decorations, sydney's gonna help me in the kitchen with prepping some of the food for christmas." her attention turned to you. "do you think you can handle the decorations around the house? it should just be the downstairs and the railings up to the second floor. nothing too extravagant."

you looked at the totes of decorations numbering in three total on the floor. "i can do that," you said.

grace smiled wide. "thank you, thank you, thank you!"

you smiled back and immediately got to work. it wouldn't take you long, the house was already pretty decorated, but grace had gone about and beyond and insisted on getting stockings for every player's family still in town, which was more than half the team. there was a table in the front entrance where you put the players' stockings and laid them out in neat rows.

on the stockings, there was the last name of the player with names below it being members of their family. marty's had sydney's, winnie's, and alice's name below his own. sorokin's just had his own name. but you hesitated when you pulled mat's out of the tote.

barzal was in big letters with ella's name underneath.

and then your own.

you blinked over and over, thinking maybe you were hallucinating.

"i hope i didn't overstep!" grace's voice startled you out of your stupor. "when mat told me you were staying in town for the holiday, i went ahead and added your name. do you know if his parents and sister are joining us?"

you shook your head. the plan was you'd be with the barzals christmas eve and christmas morning, but christmas night, when you went to the lee's house, nadia, mike, and liana would stay back. as far as you heard, anders had extended the invitation, but they declined it, not wanting to impose.

grace nodded. "okay, sounds good then!" she made a move to walk away but stopped when she saw the look on your face. you weren't quite sure what she was seeing from her perspective, but your mind was racing and your feet felt like lead. "are you okay? you seem in your head."

you shrugged. "just trying to figure things out."

"is everything okay with mat? you two seemed fine not too long ago."

and you were. but you hadn't told sydney or grace about how you slept in the same bed as mat the night you ran into your ex. and you weren't going to share that now. they'd both read into it, think things were different than they actually were.

"i just miss my family," you said.

it was clear she didn't believe you, but thankfully, grace let it go. she walked back to the kitchen while you continued to lay out the stockings.

you finished with the stockings shortly after, not sparing another glance to the one with your name on it.

it took another thirty minutes to finish the decorating before you joined grace and sydney in the kitchen. you took a seat at the bar and watched them prepare some of the dishes for christmas. it was mostly just chopping and putting things into pans and oven safe dishes.

you were halfway listening to the chatter happening between the wives when your phone buzzed.

liana told me you ubered to anders'?

mat.

you texted back, a small smile on your face. sydney was already here, i didn't have a ride otherwise.

could've asked me to drop you off.

two hours early? no thanks.

well, stay there until the game is over. i'm picking you up.

you rolled your eyes, but still couldn't keep yourself from smiling.

"what's mat saying now?" sydney asked.

"huh?" you asked, head snapping up to see two smirking blondes staring back at you.

"mat," grace said. "what did he say?"

"how did you--"

"you only smile like that with him," sydney explained. "certainly never smiled like that around your ex, the one time i saw him with you."

at the mention of jason, your stomach churned, but you kept up appearances.

you, grace, and sydney were chatting on the couches when the front door opened with matt, anders, and mat walking in. winnie, who was originally dozing off, popped up from laying on the couch to see her father standing there. she smiled and ran over to him.

anders walked in the living room and kissed his wife.

which just left you and mat, staring at each other across the room and not saying a word.

"how was the game?" sydney asked.

all three of the hockey players shrugged in unision. "fine," anders said before collapsing on the couch next to his wife. "how was your night?"

grace looked at you and sydney before smiling and turning to her husband. "i'd say it was productive and fun." you and sydney hummed in response.

matt came and sat next to his wife and a sleeping alice who was in sydney's arms. which just left an empty spot next to you and mat who was still standing in the doorway.

"barzy, you gonna come sit or stand there awkwardly?" anders chirped.

almost like he was snapped out of a daze, mat walked over and took the seat next to you, leaving about four inches between your hips and his. almost immediately, he threw his arm over the back of the couch behind your head.

you turned and looked at him for a moment, forgetting about the other people in the room. "ella with your parents?"

he nodded. "i offered to take her, but my mom insisted on putting her down."

"did you score at all tonight?"

he grinned and nodded yet again, but it was marty who cut him off.

"should've seen him! two goals, one assist."

your jaw dropped as you looked back at mat. "that's insane!" he immediately beamed at your reaction. your eye contact was broken up when his phone vibrated. mat's face twisted into a frown before he stood up and offered you a hand.

"hate to rush off, but my mom just said ella keeps crying and won't go to sleep, so we gotta go."

marty and sydney stood to their feet, each carrying a child. "we should also be heading out," matt said. anders and grace stood up a beat later, offering to walk all of you to the door.

matt and sydney exited first, with you and mat trailing behind them. mat's hand rested lightly on your lower back, something that had your knees trembling.

grace and anders hugged all of you goodbye and promised to see you in two days. they stood on the front porch and watched as all of you got into your respective cars.

mat didn't say anything until he was pulling out of the neighborhood. unlike the times before, the silence wasn't tense or awkward, it was just calm.

"did you have fun?" he asked.

"yeah, it was nice seeing them outside of hockey games and bar meet ups." you yawned.

"missed you at the game, it wasn't quite the same without you there."

"you scored twice and assisted on one goal, i'd say you did fine without me."

"could've gotten a hat trick if you were there."

you furrowed your brows, but there was a small smile playing at the edges of your lips. this felt normal, like nothing had changed, just you and mat. "how do you figure?"

he shrugged. "i always play better when you're there."

you almost did it. you almost asked him why. but you were scared of the answer, scared of what it would change.

scared that it wouldn't change a thing.

he's not gonna fall in love with you.

it was only a matter of minutes before you were back at your apartment. the two of you took the elevator to get to your floor.

you could hear ella's cries through the front door as mat hastened to unlock it. the second the door was open, every head turned towards the two of you. mat shut the door while you walked over to where liana was holding a crying ella.

ella immediately reached out for you, rubbing at her eyes when she finally settled on your hip. "sorry," you apologized to mat's family.

"what're you apologizing for, sweetheart?" nadia asked. she squeezed your arm before ushering her family to the front door. "we need to get to our hotel and get some rest. we'll see you three tomorrow."

"bye mom," mat kissed his mother's cheek and hugged liana and mike before walking them to the door and locking it behind them.

you stared at him, even as he turned around and made eye contact with you. you finally noticed a line on his forehead that you missed earlier.

you gestured to your own forehead. "you have a line right here..." you trailed off.

mat reached up a hand and felt for it before rolling his eyes. "it's from my helmet, dumbass."

you gasped and covered the one ear of ella's that wasn't pressed against your collarbone. "in front of the baby?"

"you said worse two days ago when you hit your hip on the kitchen counter."

you rolled your eyes, which seemed to be a recurring theme between the two of you that night. "i'm gonna try to take the queen to bed, wish me luck."

"i can put her down if you want," he said but you were already walking down the hallway and waving him off.

it took twenty minutes to settle ella down enough to go to sleep, and by the time you hit your mattress, you were out like a light.

day seventy-one

you woke up when the sunlight peeked through the blinds. your heart immediately shot to your throat when you realized you couldn't hear ella's sound machine through the baby monitor. the panic didn't settle when you turned over and realized it was off.

you jumped out of bed, barely remembering to throw on a sweatshirt over your tank top, and threw the door open.

you were immediately greeted with the sound of christmas music coming from the kitchen. it wasn't until you rounded the corner and saw mat making eggs with ella on his hip that you finally relaxed.

mat turned around at the sound of your heavy panicked breathing. his brows were furrowed and he moved the pan off the stove when he saw you were winded. "are you okay?"

"the monitor was off, i'm so sorry i thought i turned it on last night but i forgot--"

"i turned it off this morning," mat said. "figured you deserved a chance to sleep in."

ella smiled at seeing you and reached for you. mat didn't hesitate to walk her over, probably to make it easier to cook breakfast. you took ella and cherished the snuggles she gave you.

"when is your family coming over?"

mat tapped his phone, presumably to check the time or his texts. "fifteen minutes or so?"

you spared a glance outside. "will they be okay in the snow?"

"uh oh, mama bear's coming out," he teased. "we're literally from canada, my family will be fine."

you nodded, feeling heat crawl up your neck at the slight overreaction and concern.

the three of you sat at the table, eating the eggs and sausage mat made. normally, when you were with your family, you'd eat homemade cinnamon rolls, but maybe this year was about changing traditions and embracing them.

you picked up your phone and called your mom, waiting for her to answer. when she didn't pick up, you just shot her a quick "merry christmas" text and telling her to call you back when she gets the chance, that you couldn't wait to see her tomorrow.

by the time the three of you finished breakfast, his family was knocking at the door, greeting the three of you with an excited "merry christmas" when mat opened the door. while they got settled, you took ella out of the high chair and carried her into the living room.

you sat on the floor in front of the recliner and plopped ella in your lap while mike and nadia brought their wrapped presents in. mat and liana were the ones to pass them all out while their parents got situated on one end of the couch.

you were surprised to see some presents for you written in handwriting you knew did not belong to mat, part of you fully expecting nadia to have been bluffing two days ago.

when the presents were passed out, mat took the seat behind you in the recliner, even going as far as to let you lean against his shin for support.

"now, i don't know how you do it in your family, but in the barzal family, we going youngest to oldest, and we record everything," mike said, holding his phone up. "our sweet ella, though, is the first person to take away liana's long standing reign over opening presents first."

mat got out of the recliner, choosing to sit on the floor on your left, seemingly to help ella open her presents. you scooted back to use the recliner as back support now that mat was sitting next to you.

you heard a beep, presumably of mike's camera starting to record.

"let's open this one, ella bean," mat said to his daughter. he started ripping it at the edge, carefully placing the present in front of her and waiting to see if she did anything with it.

ella stared at it, but otherwise seemed uninterested

"look ella," you said, reaching around her and tugging the paper a little more.

she was uninterested until she heard the distinct sound of ripping. then she tried it for herself, laughing and clapping her hands when it made the noise she liked.

her first present was a puzzle made up of the letters of her name from liana. her next present was from nadia and mike, a box of playpen balls. you couldn't wait to open them, to get her settled in her playpen with them and watch her entertain herself.

mat helped her open the books everyone had bought her. he must've told his family she'd gotten into reading lately, because you weren't the only one contributing to her library.

mat's present to ella was a walker. she'd started crawling a few weeks ago, and mat was determined to get her to start walking before the end of the year.

your last present was the last one for her to open. it was just in a gift bag, and ella thoroughly enjoyed taking the tissue paper out once she got a hang of it. but nothing could've prepared you for the shriek that left her mouth when she saw the stuffed hippo.

you didn't think you'd ever seen her smile that big.

she reached for it with grabby hands, bringing it to her chest when she got it.

"guess we know her favorite gift," mat chuckled.

the rest of the morning was filled with the other presents being opened. you ended the morning with cute sweaters and a barzal jersey.

"so you can stop wearing mat's," liana had said. "figured you'd at least want something clean to wear to games."

mat had mumbled something under his breath, but when you asked him to repeat himself, he just pressed a kiss to the top of ella's head and kept his mouth shut.

when it was mat's turn to open gifts, you could feel yourself flush with embarrassment when he opened your gift. you didn't know the platonic way of saying "i got this because it would bring out your eyes," so you settled with "i thought you'd like it."

and he did, he swore it would be the tie he'd wear in the first game of the new year when you got back in town.

nadia made a wonderful christmas lunch. it was light because she knew you were going to the lee's in a matter of hours, but still better than anything mat could've cooked up.

it wasn't long before the three of you were saying your goodbyes with mike, nadia, and liana all promising to come see you soon, and to thank you for taking care of their newest addition.

just like any other time the three of you left the apartment, you carried ella while mat grabbed the diaper bag.

ella sat in her car seat, snuggling her hippo while mat drove.

"you must be pretty proud of yourself for that hippo gift," he said.

you smiled at him, reveling in the way he'd occasionally take his eyes off the road to look at you. "i am. i have an extra one in my closet just in case this one gets messed up."

his jaw dropped. "you're a fucking genius."

you weren't the last ones to get to anders' and grace's house, but you surely weren't the first. there was a line of cars parked on the street, none of which you recognized.

"are we taking the car seat inside?" you asked when mat put the car in park.

his hand paused over the door handle. "do you think we should?"

you shrugged. "we could always come back out and get it if we need it. but i'm willing to bet that she's gonna be passed around like a hot potato tonight."

mat rolled his eyes but sighed anyway. "as long as dobson doesn't hold her, it'll be fine." with that, he got out of the car and opened the back door to grab the bag.

"wait why?" you asked, getting out and unbuckling ella. "what's wrong with dobson?"

"he's like 23!"

you blinked. "am i missing something? why is that a problem?"

"he's too young to hold her, he'd do something dumb like drop her."

you rolled your eyes as you picked ella up, but said nothing.

the three of you were immediately accosted by christmas music and food smells when you walked through the front door of the lee house.

"you made it!" grace exclaimed, coming out of the living room to greet you. "grab your stocking and head to the couches, i think my husband is gonna do a toast and then we'll get started on dinner."

you nodded along and turned to look at mat who hadn't said anything. your heart dropped straight to your toes when you saw him pick up the stocking that made your mind go blank the other night. his fingers traced over his last name, then ella's name, then yours. he hesitated on yours though, fingers running over it like it was something delicate.

it felt weird to watch that moment, like you were intruding on something private, but before you could look away, he looked up at you. "did you see this?" he asked.

you nodded. "saw it the other night. are you mad?"

he quickly shook his head. "nope. just caught off guard." he glanced back down at the stocking before looking up at you and smiling. "let's get on with this, shall we?"

the night started with anders toasting to the team, but more importantly the wives and girlfriends and support behind each member who'd played a large role whether they realized it or not.

mat nudged you at that moment, which earned him an elbow in the side and a wink from anthony who stood next to him.

when they broke off for dinner, mat offered to take ella so you could get your plate first, but you declined, saying you could wait a few more minutes.

while he was gone, sydney approached. "so, how was this morning? get caught up under any mistletoe?" she nudged you. "get any sentimental gifts?"

when you thought about it, you didn't really. the gifts you got, while amazing, weren't tear jerking, which was surprising considering sydney had said mat's gift to you was thoughtful.

but what was thoughtful about a spa gift card and some bath bombs?

"nope, just the typical gifts, you know?"

sydney's face twisted a little before it righted itself when mat came back with a plate of food.

"got you what i thought you'd like," he said, handing the plate to you.

your brows furrowed. "i thought we agreed you'd eat first."

but he smirked. "no, you did."

"mathew. go eat!"

he shook his head. "not before you. now, let's trade, i'll take my child and you take the plate and go eat with sydney and the other wives if you want." mat handed the plate to sydney before taking ella and walking away before you could say anything.

you watched him walk away for a moment before turning to your friend, only to find her already looking at you. "what?"

she had a smirk for reasons you weren't sure you wanted to know about. "oh nothing."

the night continued on without much fanfare, with you and mat leaving around the same time as the martins again because of the children all three of you brought.

you'd made it back home before midnight. mat this time, wanted to put ella to bed, making sure to leave the hippo out of her crib.

you were in your room packing the last bit of your things so you could leave tomorrow and fly home. you were in the zone until you heard a throat being cleared. when you turned around, mat was leaning up against the doorway with a box in his hand.

"i know you're probably tired, but i have one last present for you."

"mat--"

"i didn't want to give it to you in front of my parents and liana, just seemed too personal." he offered no other explanation and just handed you the box.

you took it carefully, going to your bed and sitting down on the edge to open the present. when you pulled the lid off the box, you were staring at tissue paper until you pulled it away to reveal a photo album.

oh god.

it was the thoughtful present sydney had talked about.

you immediately pulled it out of the box and started flipping through it. the photos were some you'd never seen before, but they were all of you and ella. until you got further in, the photos went from just you and ella to you, mat, and ella.

you looked like a proper family.

sydney or grace must've had a hand in it, because half the photos you didn't remember being taken and they were all candids.

you could feel your eyes water, you noticed the pressure. but you kept wiping at your face to prevent them from falling onto the album itself.

you looked up at mat who looked the most unsure of himself since that first night he had ella. "i hope it wasn't over stepped, i just figured you would like to see how important you are to me, to us, me and ella." he gestured at the book. "some of the photos i took, others i got from grace and syd. i hope it's not weird or anything--"

but you were already up and crossing the room towards him.

a beat later you grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his lips to yours.

he responded not even a split second later, his mouth moving against yours. mat's arms came around your waist while your hands made a home in his hair.

was kissing always supposed to be this charged? to feel this right?

you had no idea how long you stood there, kissing mat, before you both pulled away to breathe. your eyes opened slowly, only to meet his hazel irises almost immediately.

and then reality hit you.

jason's words haunting you at just the right time.

he's not gonna fall in love with you. you're a no good bitch who didn't know what she had when she had it.

you pulled away instantly and stumbled back into your room, dodging mat's hold when he tried to reach out for you.

"what's going on?" he asked. "what just happened?"

you shook your head and grabbed your bag, moving past him without making contact. "this was a mistake," you said. "i have to go."

god you felt sick to your stomach.

mat was calling your name, but you kept walking, out the front door, down the stairs, and onto the street where you hailed a taxi.

it wasn't until you got in that you exhaled.

what the fuck had you done?

taglist:

@nicoleloveshockey @thg02 @fallinallincurls @bbbbruins @random-readers-world @sydsxoxo @jhughesy @whenmypartysover @sunflowerhood @spencereidbasis @icanfsplel @avareadsthings @zegraswrites @matthewkniesys @heyitsmeimdead @kashee-h @bordelhoe @diary-of-jj @literatureluster @dani746 @barzyblogbabe @tomhollandsbabymama @wickedlovely121 @coldheartedmar @oh-my-ladymay @heartsforhischier @brrbrina @sebsfeverdream @cathamnsns-diary @coldheartedmar @wickedlovely121

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb #mat barzal blurb

[zoeykallus]

Giiiiiirl! We all need some Tech, but something soft and chaste, complicated, slow burning, very angsty! And with some heartache, don't forget the heartache!

😮... erm... Anoooon! Lucky for you, I have something in my wips I could work on that feels like it fits this profile... in a way... I guess. Heartache? Okay, but don't come crying to me later. It was originally a draft with my OC (Which I never would have finished or published anyway), but I think I can fix it up.

Tech/Howzer x 'Jedi'!Fem!Reader - Shortfic / Oneshot - The Misfits

Warnings: Angst/Hurt/Fluff/Heartache/!!!!MAJOR SPOILER FOR TBB S2!!!!!

_____________________

After you fell in love with Howzer, you left the Order. You haven't seen him for a long time and according to rumors he is most likely no longer alive.

In your search for answers to where all the clones are disappearing to, you stumble upon a squad of clones in desperate need of help.

_____________________

AC: I changed some timeline related things as well as canon itself and call it artistic freedom 🙂. Depending on your point of view, there is a happy ending, or there is none. Or a bit of both. I totally went over board with this, but I kinda love it. It's probably one of my favorite things I worked on.

______________________

Above him, the life of his squad hangs by a thread; below him is a yawning void, a deep abyss. Within a few heartbeats, Tech has calculated all possible scenarios. There is only one way out, one way only. He can save his family if he sacrifices himself. Plan 99. Wrecker and Omega beg him not to cut the connection, Hunter even orders him to.

"When have we ever followed orders," Tech says, drawing his blaster.

Every move, that what he needs to do is logical, but it feels surreal, heavy-handed. His heart is pounding up to his throat, yet he feels strangely calm. He knows he's doing the right thing. Tech doesn't want to go, but it's a necessity to ensure the continued existence of Clone Force 99, to give his brothers and Omega a chance to survive.

The few seconds in which he aims and pulls the trigger are forever, seeming almost infinite to him. He hears his brothers calling for him and Omega's screams. In the next moment, the connection is cut, and he drops falls, his stomach tingling, everything tingling, but his muscles relaxed. His heart is racing, but his mind is calm and unusually empty for the first time in a long time.

But something is wrong, his fall slows down, even his direction of flight changes. His mind awakens again. Tech looks around, tries to orientate himself, and realizes that he is heading for one of the towers along which the cable car runs. He has no idea what is happening, there is no logical explanation, no updrafts strong enough, he has no wings and no way to control his fall, it makes no sense.

He gets close enough to grab one of the crossbars on the tower. His heart leaps as his fall stops, and he clings to the tower. Tech still can't quite grasp that he's alive, doesn't quite understand what just happened. A surge of euphoria floods his body; he doesn't have to die.

But his mind sobers up very quickly. His gaze shoots upward. The car with his brothers is moving again, but disproportionately fast, they would very likely crash into the stop.

Up above the tracks he sees a figure, a woman, she moves quickly, elegantly, dodging shots, but most interesting, she wields a green lightsaber with which she deflects the blaster shots of the Imperials.

"A Jedi," he says to himself.

Then comes the realization. He didn't fly, the Jedi must have saved him. Tech begins to hastily climb down, he must be on the ground on foot trying to reach his brothers in time. At the bottom, even as he runs, he hears the car crash into the platform. His guts want to tie themselves in knots, but he keeps running, can only hope that no one is too badly hurt.

You see dust and smoke swirl up as you jump down from the tracks into the crash site. Behind you, you hear hurried footsteps. The one you rescued earlier also reaches the crash site. He stops for a moment, stares at you, his eyes big. Finally, he rushes past you into the wreckage to check on his companions.

Some of them are injured, not fatally, but too badly to fight.

"I assume you have a shuttle," you say, more or less addressing everyone.

"Who's that?" the biggest of them asks with a groan, holding his aching ribs.

You wave it off and say, "We can work that out later. I'll back you up on the way to your shuttle if you'll take me. The imperials shot down my shuttle," you say, helping the girl to her feet, who looks at you wide-eyed, then at Tech.

"TECH!"

The girl hugs the man fiercely as tears stream down her face.

"You're alive!" she says as if she can't believe it.

He wipes away her tears and says gently but firmly, "You need to pull yourself together for a moment, Omega, first we need to get out of here"

"Go!" growls the one with the longer hair and bandana, "No time".

He grits his teeth, stumbles limping through the rubble and almost falls, but you grab his arm and help him. You can sense his pain.

"Thank you," he presses out in anguish, between clenched teeth.

Under fire, you rush back to the shuttle as fast as you can. Tech helps the sergeant, the big one named Wrecker holds up on his own. You fend off incoming shots, more than a few of which would hit one back or another without your help. The blade of the laser sword hums, buzzing through the air like an extension of your body, every movement, fluid and natural.

Tech keeps looking over his shoulder, fascinated. He's seen many a Jedi, but somehow, there is something different about you, something that already draws him in.

Pabu is beautiful, peaceful and the people refreshingly warm. A good place to come to rest, at least temporarily. However, you are a bit frustrated at the moment, your attempts to repair your holopad have failed. Annoyed, you place the device back down on the half-wall in front of you.

"Fuck it," you grumble to yourself as you hear a soft noise behind you.

You turn and see Tech, his helmet tucked under his arm, looking at you in surprise with raised brows. He's unobtrusive, yet somehow always near you.

"Excuse my choice of words," you say with a wry smile.

He shrugs carefully and says, "I may not be a fan of that language, but it doesn't bother me much either. However, I must say that this choice of words surprises me, hearing it from a Jedi. I don't think I've ever heard a Jedi swear before."

You laugh softly.

"What makes you think I'm a Jedi?"

Tech blinks thoughtfully, adjusts his goggles with his index finger, and says, "Well, I thought it was obvious. You carry a lightsaber, use the Force, and you are clearly not a Sith."

You nod slowly, "Yes, I can understand why you would come to that conclusion. But I'm not a Jedi, not anymore, not for a few years now."

He extends his hand to you invitingly and says, "May I help you with that?"

You pick up the holopad again and pass it to him. As he deftly takes the device apart, he cautiously asks, "May I ask why you left the Order?"

You sigh softly and sit down on the half-wall, looking down at the beach for a moment as if searching for an answer there, then look at Tech again.

"I never really fit in with the Jedi. You could say among the Jedi I was an outsider to some extent."

Tech looks up curiously from the holopad. He notes that this is something that connects you, he and his brothers never really fit in among the other clones either. He says, "That must have been difficult."

You nod with a sigh, "Sometimes more, sometimes less. I lacked that absolute calm, that restraint. Although I grew up in the Order from a very young age, I have never been able to put aside my emotional nature. The decision that I had to leave the Order was made when I fell in love."

Tech looks up again, blinking, you sense unease beneath his surface.

"In love?" he asks, swallowing, "Oh. Jedi aren't supposed to do that, are they?"

"No, they shouldn't. Well, it happens to many actually, but a real Jedi, cuts themselves loose from it, I didn't want that to happen."

The little, "Oh" that comes across his lips sounds oddly vulnerable.

Tech is still tinkering with your holopad when he asks, "And what happened to that love of yours?"

You swallow and feel an uncomfortable pressure on your chest as you answer quietly, "I don't know. I haven't seen him in a very long time. He was stationed on Ryloth. After Order 66, I couldn't possibly go there, too many clones in one place, and… I was terrified that he had succumbed to the chip as well. If he had tried to kill me, I don't think I could have stomached it. But from what I've heard, he's probably no longer alive anyway."

Tech looks at you in surprise.

"The man you loved was a reg?"

You frown and repeat, "Reg?"

He shakes his head apologetically.

"Sorry. Regular clone, meaning clones that haven't been modified like Clone Force 99"

"Oh, I see," you say understandingly, "Yes, by that standard I suppose he was a Reg. As far as I've heard, he ultimately acted contrary to programming. He was arrested for treason when he liberated the Syndulla family"

Tech looks up again.

"Howzer?" he asks, surprised.

"Yeah," you say, also surprised, "You know him?"

"[Knowing him] is probably too much of a word. We ran into him. At the Syndullas liberation operation. For that matter, I'm afraid I have to confirm the rumor you heard, Howzer really has been arrested by the Empire for treason."

Your heart grows heavy. You swallow. You feel a slight burning behind your eyes and the bridge of your nose.

"Then I guess he really is dead," you say with a heavy sigh, "Actually, I'm not surprised, I was already expecting it, and we haven't seen each other in over a year, but it still hurts."

Tech put the holopad back together. He gently presses the device into your hand, holding your hand almost tenderly for a brief moment as he does so.

"I'm sorry."

He's really sorry, but part of him feels relief that Howzer can't be a part of your life anymore, and he's ashamed of it. In fact, he's shocked at how he feels about you and how that realization affects him.

As Tech lets go of you, he says softly, "Your holopad is working again."

You blink and look at the device.

"Thank you so much. You're really handy with these things, aren't you?"

Tech smiles gently.

"At the risk of sounding smug, I have to say, 'handy' is probably an understatement, but yes".

Tech's heart beats faster when he sees you enter the room. He looks up, smiles at you briefly, and nervously turns his attention back to the cards lying on a box in front of him.

"You're playing… Against yourself?" you ask, surprised.

He nods and says as a matter of course, "Of course, that's the only way this game is still a challenge for me."

Your soft laugh, turns his cheeks a little pink.

"I actually believe you," you say, amused.

You glance over his shoulder.

"You're probably really good at this, you'll have to teach me when you have the time".

Tech's shoulders tighten proudly, he turns his head to the side to look at you shyly for a moment and shows you his cute little smile, just very briefly, but adorably cute.

You are so close, very close to him, for a moment he can smell your scent even more clearly than before and a shiver runs through his body. If he wasn't sitting right now, Tech is sure, his knees would buckle under him. What's happening to him here, what are you doing to him? Does this have something to do with the Force? Tech doesn't dare ask. But he feels something like a connection, and he feels all warm. Maybe he's just incubating a disease. Are there parasites on Pabu that he doesn't know about?

His thoughts are racing in all directions, but then you move again, sit down opposite him. His gaze follows you, spellbound. Tech blinks several times, trying to collect himself. Spending time with you is so wonderful in a way, so exciting, but it also completely messes with his head.

"Are we going to play a game? Will you teach me?"

His mouth opens, but it takes him a long moment to find his voice again.

"I… yes, I'd love to. But the circumstances aren't exactly fair. My mind is… special, it will be anything but easy to win against me"

With a soft laugh whose sound tickles all the way to his stomach, you say, "I don't have to win, first I just want to learn"

You learn quickly. Surprised, with a very slight tinge of frustration, and not a little appreciation, he notes that you soon beat him over and over again.

"No one has ever won against me until now," he says, impressed, but also thoughtful.

Part of him was hoping to impress you, but now he almost feels a little intimidated.

You smirk.

"Well, this is a game where a lot depends on how well you know your opponent and how to interpret their behavior. I have a simple advantage, I can sense your intentions in the Force, maybe the circumstances really aren't fair."

His pulse races. Instead of being angry that you more or less cheated through the Force, panic rises in him. If you can sense his intentions, can you sense what you are triggering in him?!

You tilt your head slightly to the side and look at him questioningly, which only emphasizes his fear. Tech jumps up, nearly knocking over the box still containing your playing cards.

"I have to take care of something," he stammers and runs out of the room a little too hastily.

Echo enters the cockpit of the Marauder in search of Tech. He finds him there, too, using a medical scanner on himself. Echo's brows go up questioningly.

"Tech, what's wrong?"

Startled, Tech looks up, collects himself, and finally answers, "I'm looking for traces of a disease or parasite."

Concerned, Echo moves closer.

"So you're not feeling well?"

Tech sighs and says, "It's hard to tell. I'm showing certain symptoms"

"Which are?"

"Increased heart rate, queasy feeling in stomach, sweaty palms, shaky knees".

Echo frowns and says, "That doesn't sound like a parasite."

Echo thinks for a moment and then something occurs to him. With a certain undertone, he asks, "Those symptoms wouldn't happen to show up in connection with our Jedi guest?"

Tech lowers the scanner and looks critically at Echo.

"Are you suggesting she might have infected me with something?"

Echo says, amused, "More or less. She's pretty, she's nice, well she's special."

Tech sighs softly and says, "I agree."

Echo sits down in the copilot seat, looks at Tech and says, "You'd rather be sick than in love?"

"In love?!" echoes Tech in near panic.

His brother raises his hands placatingly.

"Relax, it's a normal thing, not the end of the world. But it's also natural to have a certain respect for these feelings. They make us vulnerable and as soldiers we are trained to avoid such things, especially as clones. But there are no regulations anymore, you could take the leap and explore these feelings."

Techs heart beats faster, just the thought that there might be something between you sends what feels like millions of signals through his body.

"Are you scared?"

Tech gulps.

"I'm not sure about that, in a way I guess I am. She can use the Force, maybe she already knows, maybe she's already sensed what I'm feeling."

Echo shrugs.

"I suppose it's possible. But so far it doesn't seem to me like she's avoiding you, that's a good sign after all."

Tech nods slowly, agreeing with his brother.

The sun is slowly setting, but it is still wonderfully warm. Your hands rest on the waist-high stone wall in front of you and feel the warmth of the sun stored in it, which has been shining on it all day. A real, pleasant feeling. Then you feel something else, with your mind.

"Hey, Tech. Did you get done what you needed to get done?"

You turn to him with a smile. It's almost unusual to see him without his datapad in his hand. Tech stands next to you and looks out at the ocean and how the sun seems to be sinking into the water on the horizon.

"Yes, I have," he says softly.

You can sense that something is going on beneath his surface, he is excited and euphoric at the same time, but outwardly he seems quite calm. You look at each other, you feel it coming, but you don't move a muscle. Unsure if you want to let it happen or not. He leans towards you, his lips chastely touching your cheek, then he straightens up again with blushing cheeks and looks out at the water again, unable to face your gaze.

It's a strange feeling. You like Tech a lot, you can't quite place it yet, but something about it feels wrong, maybe because you can't quite release Howzer from your heart yet.

"Sorry," he says suddenly, "I didn't mean to cross any lines."

You sigh softly and carefully reach for his hand. Tech's heart overflows with joyful excitement, you can feel it, it practically spills over to you, but you pull yourself together.

"There's something you should know, Tech."

He does finally look at you again, questioningly.

"You can tell me anything," he says quietly.

With a cautious smile, you nod and say, "I can feel what you feel for me, at least I think I can. These feelings, I must admit, are not entirely one-sided."

There is great joy radiating from him, nervousness, euphoria, but also a bitter undertone of insecurity.

He says, "I have a feeling there's still a 'but' there."

You nod again and say, "My heart is not ready to let go of Howzer. I know he's most likely no longer among the living, but I'm not ready to let him go just yet."

"Oh," Tech says quietly, "That's not a problem. I, um, I can wait until you're ready."

"I can't ask you to do that, I don't know how long it will take" you say uncertainly, lowering your eyes.

You would love to let him hug and comfort you, just let go and snuggle up to Tech's side, but something, hidden deep inside you, prevents you from doing so.

Tech repeats determinedly, "I can wait," and very gently squeezes your fingers in his hand.

At that moment, your heart opens a little wider to him and his, adorably sweet, little, smile.

"Rex is coming to Pabu," Hunter says, "And he's bringing some more of our brothers with him that he was able to rescue from the clutches of the Empire."

You remember Rex, a little bit, anyway. A decent guy, good soldier, he was Skywalker's Clone Captain. Skywalker was the only Jedi at the time who seemed to understand you to some extent, at least you always had a good conversation with him. You wonder where he is now, if he is still alive. But a noise pulls you out of your thoughts.

A shuttle is approaching and lands next to the Marauder, which suddenly seems quite small in comparison. The ramp opens and Rex emerges from it, followed by several other clones.

Tech shows up next to you, giving you a gentle smile before focusing on the arrivals, his datapad in hand as usual.

You greet the new arrivals. Rex even recognizes you, you talk for a moment when you hear someone say, "Hey little Jedi."

There is only one man who has ever called you that.

"Howzer", the name comes across your lips like a whisper.

You turn around and see him standing in front of you. He looks tired, but the smile on his face is still irresistible. Neither of you think for long. You embrace each other stormily and Howzer engages you in a long, longing kiss.

As his lips part from yours, he leans his forehead against yours and says, "Honestly, I hardly dared to hope I'd ever see you again, beautiful."

The world around you has faded out, there is only Howzer and you, even though all eyes are on you. Some confused, others amused. But you also feel Tech's shock, poking through all the other sensations surrounding you, like an electric shock.

The datapad in his hands crackles and creaks protestingly under the pressure of Tech's fingers as he watches your kiss. He didn't expect this, didn't expect Howzer to ever appear on the scene again.

Tech could have imagined waiting until you were ready for him, but this changes everything. The realization is like a shock, and a wave of bitterness rolls over him against his will.

The datapad cracks in his hands. Echo next to him stares in disbelief at the kissing scene, then his gaze shifts to Tech with concern.

"Tech…" he says softly, but Tech drops the datapad to the floor, turns on his heel, and walks away in a hurry.

Hunter and Echo exchange a frown, a worried look.

"I'll go check on him," Echo says, and sets about following Tech.

That same evening, you're sitting on the beach with Howzer, holding hands, talking, telling each other all the things that happened during the time you were apart. Then you feel it again, the tentative, tender presence of Tech. You turn your head and look up at him.

You haven't seen him since this morning, since Rex and Howzer arrived. You don't know where he's been or what he's been doing during that time. But since Echo followed him and also stayed gone all day, you suspect he was talking to his brother.

"I'm sorry to bother you. I know you probably have a lot to talk about, but I'd like to ask for a private conversation," Tech says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Howzer frowns questioningly, but when you agree and leave with Tech, he has no objections, trusting you and waiting on the beach as Tech and you walk away, out of earshot and sight.

"I know," Tech begins, "Things have changed now, of course. Howzer's still alive, and I don't presume to make demands or get in the way. I'm very fond of you, and even though I'd like to be in Howzer's place, all I really want is for you to be happy."

His pain is deep and more intense than you expect, you can feel it almost as clearly as if it were your own.

"I'm so sorry, I-"

Tech raises his hand.

"No, don't be. Neither my feelings nor the current situation are your fault. You should be happy, you have the man you love back."

Everything inside you tightens. Yes he is right, you should be happy, but you are not, not completely. But maybe that's just what you feel going out from Tech.

"Something about this whole situation doesn't feel right," you say so softly that he almost doesn't hear it.

He smiles sadly and says, "That's just because you're a good person, you have a good heart. You know that I feel pain, and you would like to change that. But you can't, this is something that will heal with time."

You take a deep breath, stand on your tiptoes, and he leans towards you. You gently kiss Tech's cheek and say, "You know I still care about you immensely, right?"

He swallows, finally nods, and says, barely audibly, "I know that."

As you part ways, he stares after you for a long time as his hand automatically moves to his cheek and his fingers settle on the spot where you kissed him. He will never forget this moment.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

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@starwarsnerd111

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #clone force 99 #sw tbb #tech #tbb tech #bad batch tech #tech x female reader #tbb tech x reader #tech x you #tech x reader #clone trooper tech x reader #technician #tech bad batch #tech tbb #tech the bad batch #the bad batch tech #tech fluff #tech angst #heartache

[sunstone-smiles]

Where's Your Sense of Humor?

Author’s note: Aaaah! I’m a week late! But I decided to do Day 1 of Novembas: Sibling Antics / Humor since I thought these prompts were perfect for the subway boys to have some fun! This will be the only day I’ll participate in, but thank you to @/submas-november for making the list! I hope you all enjoy!

Series: Pokemon

Characters: Emmet and Ingo

Word count: 1,413

Summary: Emmet tries to tell a joke to get Ingo to laugh, but he’s unsuccessful, so Emmet figures out another plan that can really get his brother laughing.

—

Sitting on the couch of their apartment, Ingo’s eyes peacefully scan the pages of a book that informs him with facts about trains. With every word, Ingo learns more about the history of locomotives, even going so far as to teach him of the pokemon who helped to build the first tracks. To Ingo, this gathering of information was entertainment. A little across from Ingo, Emmet sits in an armchair that occupies the other side of the living room. In his hands, he reads his own book with a yellow cover and vibrant shapes plastered on the front.

Emmet suddenly breaks the silence of the apartment with a giggle. Snapped out of the silence of his reading trance, Ingo peeks his eyes over the spine of his book to glance at Emmet. Unaware of the other watching him, Emmet lets out another chuckle as his eyes are focused on a page.

Ingo places his book on his lap. “Emmet, what are you laughing at?” the older twin asks with a curious tone.

“Oh!” Emmet smiles at his brother, closing his book between his fingers to show the yellow cover without losing his page. “Sorry if I disturbed you, Ingo. But this joke book is just too funny. I couldn’t help but laugh at some of them.”

“I see. That would explain the sudden chuckle.”

“How is your book, Ingo?” Emmet asks a standard question, but something mischievous in his eyes and the inflection in his words seem to hold a separate reason for asking. Nevertheless, Ingo answers his question.

“I’m enjoying it. I’m learning a lot of facts that I didn’t have knowledge of before.” 

“That’s good,” Emmet responds, but that same look in his eyes then expands downwards to form a grin. “I bet you're reading some, riveting information,” Emmet smiles from his joke, perfectly executing the setup he put for Ingo. He leans forward, as if he’s awaiting a response. But his desired outcome doesn’t go as planned.

“What?” Ingo tilts his head to the side.

“You know! Riveting! Like the rivets of a train. Get it?” Emmet explains his comedy and giggles at his own joke.

“I know about the support functionality of rivets, but what does that have to do with the current chapter I’m reading?”

Emmet shakes his head. “Nothing. It was supposed to be a joke. Come on Ingo, where’s your sense of humor?” he teases his brother.

Unappreciative of his brother’s tease at the joke flying over his head, Ingo leans back in his seat and lifts up his book to eye-level. He speaks, almost with a tone similar to a cold shoulder. “Perhaps your delivery then was unfunny.”

Emmet fakes an offended gasp and leaps out of his seat. “Me?! The smiley and funny twin being unfunny? How dare you! I request that you take that statement back. I have a reputation to uphold, you know,” Emmet glances a playful look towards his brother to make sure he knows he’s kidding.

Ingo understands he’s joking, but the older twin still keeps up the act. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, seemingly absorbed in the world of facts and logic of his book.

Emmet puts his hands to his hips. “The silent treatment, huh?” The younger twin waltzes over to the couch and plops himself down on the other side. He crosses his arms to act tough and stares down his brother. “Ingo,” he calls his name. Ingo clearly ignores him. Emmet narrows his eyes and tries again. “Ingo!” he says even louder than the first. Again, there’s no reaction from his twin.

The younger subway boss growls under his breath. Emmet reaches for his brother’s side. “Ingo. Listen to me—” 

“Ack!” Ingo jumps closer to the arm of the couch when Emmet pokes his side. He shoots Emmet a glare, his voice trailing with what sounds like giggle. “Emmet! Don’t do that!”

The younger twin pulls back his hand. A smirk that oozes with deviousness replaces his surprised expression. “I am Emmet. And maybe there is a way to tickle your funny bone after all,” he grins.

Ingo’s eyes widen and he leans further into the arm of the couch, trying to scoot away as far as possible from the idea rising in his brother’s head. “Emmet,” Ingo says his name like a cautionary warning. “Don’t you even think—AH!” the older twin is tackled onto the side of the couch, dropping his book to the floor in the process. Emmet’s fingers dart towards his ribs and Ingo jolts with an explosion of giggles.

“Ehehehehemmet!” Ingo tugs at his brother’s wrists to try and pull himself away from Emmet’s silly sibling antics of a tickle attack.

“There you go! Now you’re laughing! Where was this reaction earlier?” Emmet teasingly asks. “I guess it just took a good rib-tickler to get you laughing!” Emmet tickly vibrates his fingers across Ingo’s ribs, resulting in the older twin clamping his arms down in reflex.

“Thahahat is nohohohot funny!” Ingo wriggles around on the couch with a big smile glued to his face.

“If it’s not funny, then why are you laughing?”

“Behehehecause you’re tickling mehehehe!” Ingo answers truthfully obvious, unable to think of any witty comebacks with his brain currently being overflowed with the sound of his own giggles. Ingo suddenly yelps when Emmet crawls his fingers to his underarms and he throws his head back with booming laughter that could fill an entire subway station.

“What? Noooo, really? I had no idea,” Emmet feigns innocence with another grin.

“Ohohohokay! That’s it!” Ingo exclaims with a newfound playfulness laced in his voice. He launches his arms forward and squeezes Emmet’s sides. Emmet suddenly spasms straight up as a tickly shockwave zaps up his spine and through his body. With the opportunity, Ingo leaps at his brother, tackling him down to the other side of the couch.

Emmet makes a frantic attempt to wrestle his brother’s hands away, but Ingo quickly finds an opening at his brother’s belly. He yelps and breaks out into his own fit of giggles; his legs kick out behind him in giggly joy. “Wahahahait! Ingohohoho!” Emmet uses one hand to shove at his brother, while the other shoves Ingo's hand at his tummy.

“Oh no, you know the unspoken rule, Emmet. Payback must be given,” Ingo softly smiles as he scribbles his fingers across his twin’s tummy. “I bet you’re tickled pink that it’s your turn to be laughing now.”

“Thahahahat johohohoke was teheherrible!” the younger twin criticizes through his own wide smile.

“Says you, hypocrite!” Ingo dives his hands towards his brother’s sides and scribbles into the area. Emmet nearly squeals when his most ticklish spot is targeted again and he wildly flails his limbs. 

“Wahahait! WAIT! I tahahahake it bahahahack!” Emmet frantically tries to wriggle himself backwards towards the arm of the couch, but Ingo hold is effectively latched onto his twin’s sides. Through his squirming, the younger twin curls himself into a ball with his arms tightened to his sides and his head leaning back into cushions. “Ohohohokay!” Emmet calls out to his brother above him with any strength he has left, “Mehehehercy! Mercy!”

Hearing his brother, Ingo leans back and moves his hands away, allowing Emmet to sink into the cushions. Ingo glances down at a worn out Emmet, then scoots over to the other side of the couch and picks up his book. He flips to the page he left off on and continues reading, as if he was never disturbed. 

Emmet catches his breath while his arms are hugged around his middle. Residual giggles trickle out of him while he sits himself up enough to lean back on the arm of the couch. 

Ingo pulls his eyes away from the pages to look at his brother. “Are you recovered now, Emmet?” Ingo asks with a slight smile.

“Yeah,” Emmet answers, exhausted. He glances at Ingo’s book about trains again, then puts on another smile. “Just a little out of steam.” 

Ingo lets a small chuckle out at that one and shakes his head.

“Ah ha! Gotcha that time,” Emmet beams victoriously.

Ingo playfully rolls his eyes and returns to his book. Emmet returns to his book as well and the room turns quiet again, yet also with a calm air surrounding the room, rather than the stiffness that may come with silence. Emmet’s final joke wasn’t entirely humorous, but his timing after their sibling shenanigans couldn’t have been better.  

#novembmas #pokemon #pokemon black and white #pokemon ingo #pokemon emmet #submas #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fanfic #sfw fanfiction #sfw fanfic #sfw tickle fic #tickle fic

[infinitetelevision]

Strangers on a Wave

Wild Cards. Season 1, Episode 4

Another fun episode, another twist I didn't see coming. Maybe I'm just not that great at solving TV mysteries (very plausible), but I'm impressed again that I (halfway) didn't see the reveal coming. A few bits remained a little too... bland? Cliche? Predictable? Full of TV logic? Not sure the right term. But I enjoyed the episode and the growing relationships between the characters. We got a big dash of Ellis' backstory here, and his relationships with some of the others in the precinct which was nice.

Show so far: ⭐⭐⭐

Episode: ⭐⭐⭐

-Ace Analyst

More spoilery talking points below the cut:

Specific talking point number 1: The mystery. Chilly being guilty followed along with the show - the cops suspected him from the start, after the drug thing, so not that big a leap. The Trip guy also immediately jumped out as an idiot, but that was obviously a red herring I didn't pick up on. Instead, he died solely for the fact that he was irritating Kathy, the real mastermind. I liked the twist, didn't love Max falling out of the vent right in front of them (or taking a phone call right above them - they really couldn't hear that?).

Specific talking point number 2: Ellis' backstory. Glad it was expounded on some more in a way that seemed organic. We know by now that Max is inquisitive, and she's fond of Ellis, so it makes sense she'd prod that point until she got some answers. I liked Simmons more this episode too; he's been given a bit more character so he's not so two-dimensional anymore. There was a moment or two where you could see the history between him and Ellis without the show needing to spell it out, which was nice. (Yates... not so much.) I have a feeling we'll get back to Ellis's brother's murder though. Probably the season 1 finale, the way these types of shows usually go. I also kind of agree with Li on demoting Ellis, at least based on the evidence we have.

Minor point 1: Robin seems to use they/them pronouns. I'm not exactly keeping track, but another point for the show in terms of casual queer diversity.

Minor point 2: For as irritated as Ellis is with Max sometimes (if fondly irritated more and more), he only ever introduces her as a consultant, not a criminal. Granted, he needs to keep his credibility, but it's nice he doesn't spill her life story to others.

Minor point 3: Threats and danger. Based on Max's 'kidnapping' - and Ellis's standoff last episode - this seems like a light-hearted procedural show that's not interested in dealing with real danger. If characters do ever get injured, they're likely to be fine again the next episode. Not knocking it if that's what you like, just recognizing the genre.

Minor point 4: The opening sequence seems too long, particularly because there aren't even any credits over it.

#Wild Cards #tv review

[goldenagenonsense]

Action Comics #5 [October 1938]

After last issue, I feel like there’s not much that can unpleasantly surprise me. Superman’s questionable morality aside, we have a ways to go before we even get to Batman, much less Marvel comics and whatever else I find. It’s also a shorter story today - nine pages instead of thirteen. Hopefully that’ll make it a bit easier to go through!

Not much to say about the cover. Could be vaguely racist. That is not my problem.

On the other hand, the pre-story ad page had me double-take for a second when I thought it was Oliver Queen. But no, it was just a random dude with the same facial hair and haircut. Though now that makes me wonder what situation poor Ollie could have been caught up in to end up in a flooding dungeon.

We open up this story to telegraph lines broadcasting news of a terrible disaster. The Valleyho Dam is cracking under the strain of a huge downpour; should it give way, a mountain of water will sweep down the valley, killing thousands and destroying fertile land.

…you know, I think I saw a clip of this story before, when I was watching a youtube video on Superman. It pulled on some clips from an animated series that was clearly based on these original tales. Dunno when said series was animated and broadcast, but I kind of want to track them down and watch them, since they’re tied into this whole ‘golden age’ thing. Probably will be a while, though, if ever. Don’t want to spoil myself on content that’s 85 years old.

[Friend insert:

Solem: That'd be the Fleischer series. Classic short films from back when animation was too expensive to be shown in anything but cinemas, made in 1941 and 1942.]

Sounds like I have something to look forward to then in the nearish future!

At the Daily Star, the editor-in-chief demands Clark be brought to him. Lois tells him that Clark’s not in the office; the editor tells her to look for him and have him report in before he loses his mind. Lois asks why she can’t handle the assignment. The editor says it’s too important for a girl. Lois is not impressed with that logic, thinking mildly violent thoughts as she heads out.

Coincidentally, Clark is just outside the building. She puts on an eager air as she approaches him. Clark is shocked she’s actually happy to see him. She asks him to do her a favor and cover an assignment for him; he leaps on the task, eager to please. She tells him to head to the local hospital’s maternity ward, since a Mrs. Mahoney is expecting… septuplets? (My god, that poor woman. Someone help her. Can a person even have that many kids at once?) Clark thanks Lois for the chance to handle it. 

While Lois is getting herself a ticket to Valleyho, Clark is at the hospital, learning that Lois lied to him. Gasp! Honestly, that makes way more sense than having to worry about the poor theoretical woman he could have had to deal with. Clark starts to make his way back to the office, wondering if Lois double-crossed him.

The editor is not pleased when he finally shows his face - the biggest news story in months on the fire, and Clark wasted time at a hospital?? Clark tries to explain that he didn’t know, but the editor isn’t hearing it - the last train’s already left! Clark’s fired, he can report to the cashier.

Clark, however, has bigger fish to fry. He finds himself an empty room and strips out of his work suit, revealing he had his costume on underneath, cape included. Which, you know what, sure, why the fuck not. Maybe he just keeps the cape in his briefcase and puts it on afterward. 

Superman leaves the Daily Star from the roof, leaping out into the night. Leap after leap, covering huge distances, until he’s caught up to the train that Lois is on. He hits the ground running, quickly outpacing the train, all while smugly thinking about how if Lois thinks she can scoop him, she’s got another thing coming! 

He quickly reaches a bridge the train is set to go over - only to stop when he notices something wrong. A torrent has loosened the bridge’s supports, causing the track to tilt at an angle that makes a wreck inevitable. The train whistles in the distance - there’s no time to lose. Without a moment’s hesitation, Superman dives forward, seizing the supports and starting to push until the tracks level out again. He holds it in place as the train passes by, then allows it to crash. 

The passengers are startled at the sound, quickly gathering at the windows to see what happened. They gape at the collapsed bridge behind them, one of them commenting on how they’d be dead if it’d happened an instant earlier. The drivers note that they need to send a warning at the next junction for the other trains.

When the train arrives at Valleyho, Lois has to fight through everyone getting on board. She quickly flags down a taxi, but the driver wants nothing to do with going to the dam - she can have the car, he’s getting out of there! Lois, not to be deterred, does take the taxi for a spin, speeding her way to the dam. 

God, Lois truly is her best self, in full gremlin mode. She will get her story, dammit, even if it means throwing herself bodily into danger. It’s good to know that that’s been a core trait of hers right from the start. I already think this is my favorite story so far, and it’s half because of her.

Meanwhile, Superman’s struggling to hold the dam together, desperate to buy the people below enough time to evacuate. 

(Which, can I just say, this is the other half of the reason this story is delighting me - we’re seeing the core of the hero that we’re most familiar with 85 years later, the man who has incredible power and uses it to save lives. Like, yeah, the bits with him tackling rich people corruption, including flexing his investigator skills, is well and good, and gives a showcase of what he as Clark capable of. But him holding the dam together to buy the people below time to escape is just. Mmm. That’s the core of Superman we all are familiar with.)

Eventually, even Superman isn’t enough to keep the dam up; with a huge roar, it falls to pieces, sending floodwater roaring down the valley. Superman leaps above the turbulent rapids - but Lois can’t do the same, stuck in her taxi as the waters rush towards her. Superman spies the car, and rushes to save her, but the waters are faster, dragging the vehicle under and along for the ride. Lois braces herself, expecting a watery death -

Only to be pulled from the car by Superman, who quickly rushes towards the surface with her in his arms. Once they’re on the shore and Superman can readjust her, so she’s in a more comfortable bridal carry, he takes off like a shot, racing ahead of the floodwaters. 

Lois stirs, holding on tightly as he leaps up to a high pinnacle. He sets her down so he can put all of his strength into pushing on the rock; soon enough, the peak starts to crack, cascading downwards into the path of the water. The rocks seal up the mountain gap entirely, forcing the water to take another route away from the town.

Superman exhales in relief - that had been too close. Lois is ecstatic, gushing about how he saved all those people, before declaring that she could - and would - kiss him. Superman starts to refuse, only to be cut off by the kiss, temporarily dazed afterward from how good it was, much to her amusement. 

Superman sweeps her off her feet soon after, taking her to someplace she’ll be safe - where he’ll be safe from her as well. During the trip, she talks about how the first time he’d carried her like that, she’d been frightened - of the trip and of him. But now she loves it, and him! When he finally sets her down at Valleyho town, she begs him to stay, but Superman merely wishes her well and takes off.

Soon after, Clark calls in, stating that he’d gotten himself a plane to Valleyho and had some sensational news. He asks if he’s rehired; based on his reply afterward, the answer seems to be yes! When he finally leaves the phone booth, Lois happens to be there. Clark states that while the stunt she pulled wasn’t nice, he still likes her. Lois snubs him, thinking about how Clark is a spineless worm she can hardly bear to look at, especially after having been in the arms of a real man.

And with that, this story is a wrap! Wow! Short, but I loved it. This feels like the first establishing moment for both of them, in multiple ways. Here’s to hoping we get more stories like this going forward!

#action comics #dc comics #superman

[smolalienbee]

The Old Witch

the very beginning of the 2nd chapter of In the Earth of Me; full chapter available on AO3!

Yennefer.

She looks exactly like she did last he saw her, a purple cloak pulled over her forehead and her face cast in shadow. The one difference - the main difference - is the look in her eye. The way she looks at him, it reminds her of when her Chaos was still hers, how she’d look down at anyone that dared disrespect her. He knows, now, that much of it has always been an act, a defence, and yet seeing it in her face again still makes him shudder.

Somehow, it hasn’t even crossed his mind that chanting the incantation could lead him straight to her. It’s a fairly logical leap, now that he thinks about it as he stands in front of her sorceress. Regardless, he still has no clue as to what’s happening. He has no Chaos in him, that much he’s sure of, and yet whatever it was that he did has worked. How?

“What the fuck are you doing here? No, actually, no, don’t answer that, better question, what is this place?”

“You never shut up, do you?”

He scoffs at her words, puffing up his metaphorical feathers in offence. “Well, now - if you haven’t noticed, talking is what I do. Wouldn’t be much of a successful bard if I kept my mouth shut - but, seriously, where are we?”

Jaskier would never want to admit it to her, but there’s something about this place that makes his skin crawl. It certainly makes it so that he’s less willing to joke around, to banter with her. He’d rather get out of here and soon.

(Maybe that prison cell wasn’t so bad after all.)

“Come, Jaskier.”

She gestures to a table - he could swear there wasn’t one there, just a moment ago. Or maybe there was - he finds it difficult to keep track of the space around him, feeling like it’s constantly shifting around him.

(The fireplace feels closer than it should be. He tries not to think about it too deeply.)

“It’s safe here,” she continues. He wonders if she can sense his discomfort. “Come, let’s have a drink.” There’s a bottle in her hand now - clearly something alcoholic, but he can’t make out any labels, anything that would give away what it is. He doesn’t even think to ask.

“Right,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes at her. With not a word of protest, he steps closer to where she gestures for him to sit.

When he pulls the chair out from the table, it makes an awful scratching noise against the floor. He barely resists the urge to flinch, but he knows better than to take his eyes off her. Something about this whole situation puts him on edge, makes him even more wary around her. It’s strange.

Slowly, he sits down. She does the same, although with far more ease than him. Still, her eyes remain on him as well, as though he’s her prey and she’s waiting for him to bolt.

(He wishes his own overly active imagination wouldn’t supply him with such comparisons in a moment like this. He’s already creeped out enough as it is.)

“What if I told you -” she begins, pouring them both a glass. When he looks at hers, the image mirrored in the glass is not her face. He blinks. “- that you could get away?”

Jaskier’s fingers curl tightly around the glass, scarred skin soothed by the coolness of it. He doesn’t take a sip, though - suddenly, he doesn’t feel like drinking at all.

“Get away from what?” he huffs, frustration seeping into his voice. He hates it, the way she’s speaking to him - with this sense of superiority, as though she knows something he doesn’t. Perhaps she does.

(And it hurts, when he thinks about how she hadn’t spoken to him like that, the last time he saw her.)

“This heartbreak, Jaskier.” She looks up sharply and their eyes meet. The shade of her eyes is not the right one. “That you could finally matter. For once in your short, miserable, human life… All you need to do is ask.”

read the full chapter on AO3!

#smolalienbeewrites #geraskier #twn #witcher #jaskier the bard #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt x jaskier #jaskier whump #Yennefer of Vengerberg #except not really yen #voleth meir #jaskier #geralt #i DID fuck around and i DID edit and post the 2nd chapter today #as u can clearly see #it was either that or a fluff geraskier ficlet that im nearly done editing #but yeah im riding the high of people being excited and terrifed as to what happens in voleth meir fic #so the choice ended up being pretty clear #jaskier is having A Time

[twig---verginix]

augh okay sorry discussions of puppet abuse under the cut. csa and incest specifically

what did she mean by this. I'm reading way too deep into a post from 2015 that I didn't even screenshot myself I got it secondhand from a wonderful theory post in the tag that interpreted it in a Wholly different way but like. sigh. follow me through and tell me if the logic tracks right.

captions relate to their images. that is how things work on instagram, right? is it a leap to assume, like i did, that the caption is calling Yellow Roy's "speshal one?" Which like, of course, that tracks– for better or for worse, every small thing we know about Roy's motivations are (as far as I can tell) centered around his son and keeping him trapped in the nightmare of his existence. and watching the whole time. and making sure he stays there? and that nobody outside of his influence can posses him as their own. maybe. so like awww he loves his son his son is his valentine actually nah no sorry sorry I don't think there's a way I can construe this as normal even if you try to view things as Roy being a caring and protective dad in his own way The Whole Time, that's like.

Or I mean like maybe he's still caring, I guess, you could say, in the sense that. look. Even if you overlook the VERY INTENTIONAL AND CONTEXT-SPECIFIC LANGUAGE of a "special one" in this series,

which I don't think you CAN do, because why would you call back to an episode that *you* wrote, just a year prior, the episode about. like. the intense loneliness that comes from your community despising you and how romantic love specifically a) is the only balm for this deep pain b) culminates in marriage and c) is inescapable and entirely out of your control. as taught to a child by a cult.

iiiiiif you WERENT trying to imply something even more insidious than the abuse we've seen from Roy onscreen. Right?

even if you ignore the language it just kind of points a certain way. Do you see what I'm saying? do you see why i can't stop thinking about the Family episode of the tv series? can we talk about the dawning horror when Yellow realizes he has been made into "mummy," that he has always been "mummy." can we talk about roy stepping past his son to Devour the family and the way Yellow says something like "oh i knew you would come!" right before he's brushed off. and the sounds of the carnage right on the other side of the door where Yellow's still standing right after his hollow little "bye" to his father. Lemme just call up talented writer and director Rebecca Sloan to ask her for clarification on a post she made eight years ago, what Yellow meant when he said in an interview that he dreams about his "middle being haunted," and also Who gave her the right

#dhmis #im Upset about the puppets #does this make any sense? i'm queuing this late at night i hope it posts at like nine am on a tuesday

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

s2ep1 the collector

there was so much wrong with this one. so much like jenny nicholson, i'm making a list to keep on track

hawkmoth being hawkmoth

master fu making a mistake and losing everything

hawkmoth akumatizing himself

ladybug's comment about gabriel agreste having a son

i guess they're kinda all interwoven, but those are the main points i want to hit. i'll start with the last one bc it's the easiest.

why did ladybug say that he had a son, as if she hadn't been to the agreste household before and called adrien by his name. the writers really were like, "continuity? who's she? don't know her."

i think the whole idea of hawkmoth is a lot like how the writer/director approached the book of henry (the movie). as analyzed by dan olsen (folding ideas on youtube), he mentions that the writer wrote the script with the knowledge that henry was going to die and his mom was going to (almost) go through with his plans if he did. which is a bad starting point, bc up until henry is hospitalized, we're supposed to believe this 12 year old is going to go into a gun shop and buy a sniper rifle.

and it's the same idea with hawkmoth. it feels very much like the creator of ml needed a villain, and designed hawkmoth without actually understanding what the butterfly miraculous does when it's not in the wrong hands. like he designed the villain before deciding that the butterfly was also going to be a miraculous. or like he was still deciding what miraculous to include.

and the reason i say this is 1) it sure seems like hawkmoth just being a thing was something master fu was prepared for, even tho he didn't have any basis in it. like maybe you could argue he should assume it would end up in the wrong hands, but how would he know what that would look like? and that's also just a baseless assumption. 2) the whole explanation of how master fu lost the peakcock and butterfly miraculous.

he says he made a mistake when he was younger (and i believe he's supposed to be like 100 or smth right?? or am i mixing that up? it's probably been a good 40 or so years since his screw up at least), and i'm hard-pressed to believe he and gabriel are the same age. but he says that that mistake is what led him to lose the tome and the two miraculous. but then makes a wild leap of logic into thinking that whoever possessed the tome must also possess the missing miraculous and be hawkmoth? like please walk me through that logic, it doesn't make sense!

the writers didn't even add an in extra--it was probably sold or changed hands a lot, but whoever possess it now may well be hawkmoth. tho i suppose that leaves a plot hole by itself bc how can you guarantee that all three items stay together if it's changed hands a few times. but i feel like that's easier to swallow than that giant leap from "i lost these things" to "so anyone who has them is hawkmoth."

not to mention, again, if all three items did change hands a lot before gabriel found them, how did he find them together. i mean maybe the seller sold them as set, but if he hadn't, how would master fu have known that anyone would know that they're holding a miraculous. unless the kwamis come out of them unwillingly?

i'm tying myself into knots and getting all jumbled up here on what if's, so i'm going to move on. i still do think master fu expecting the butterfly ending up in the wrong hands and knowing what that looks like is weird from a writing standpoint. it just, again, makes it feel like hawkmoth was a villain first and a miraculous second. or at the very least, was always a villain and never a good guy.

i think the writers use master fu being young and still in training as an excuse for way too many things (i did watch s2 but i only remember very few things, unlike s1, bc in s1 i actually enjoyed the show. by the time s2 came out, the fans were getting antsy and salty). and they do it in this episode bc when marinette says gabriel got akumatized and so that exonerates him/crosses him off the suspect list and master fu just accepts that is crazy to me.

bc you'd think master fu knowing as much as he does about the miraculous, he'd also know that the butterfly miraculous holder can posses themself with their own butterflies. surely, the powers of the miraculous are the first think you'd learn as a guardian!

and while i think it's a fine convention to use, i'm only criticizing it here bc the writers are bad and lazy, as evidenced by the first season.

i do like the implication is that emilie is a bad lady who stole the miraculous and broke the peacock one tho. i support women's wrongs.

i also really love that gabriel's english va slightly lowers his voice when he's hawkmoth.

and it's hilarious to me that the artists literally changed gabriel's entire face shape when he's hawkmoth lol.

also racism and chinese mysticism. unfortunately, i believe we're going to get a lot of that this season. and i'm going to never stop sounding like a broken record.

#chirp.ml #chirp.txt

[incarnateirony]

So, again, I do like to comment for the legitimately interested. If you're still here, or occasionally liking things in my storm of posts, you're here under some form of belief--or maybe involvement deeper than that.

I posted the other night about the playlist update and coordination with a few others to try to find the right remix, had been talking about the importance of individual heartsongs, and identity, and all that. So today I was breaking down about the Life Will Change Eurobeat track to Noiz. And to shorten it with minimal caps, and somewhat bringing sense to gnostic mad hatter mercurial madness,

"So for some reason, this. Beat. Just rips shit up casually. Even if I'm not. Casting or whatever consciously. And it's all old directives bouncing around. That's the 'I'm dragging you casually through the cosmos until you fix this shit' track. Hence being open to multiple mixes that feel right. Think of Life Will Change as my momentum track. I'm not doing anything particular, but I sure be doing a lot already. Let's ride that for a while, and it came with the Roadmap DLC. And a lot of people are using it."

"I think it might also be partially due to association with the subway on P5. Making that mental leap works quite well."

"Yeah, see, but that's just it. You gotta acceptt and work with the crazy around you. Hence the very funny persona bomb to begin with. So when the tracks start mixing..."

"Indeed."

"Ok well I'm already fighting the priestess on the subway on the honkai star rail and the roadmap dlc just launched and gave me the other persona games, so I guess we're on this mementos crazy train through inaba now too while we offrail through Fortnite with the train tracks blowing down Szurane Continent Lost Plane's mountains as the underworld. we'll assign it to a different pillar. p3 4 5 the three pillars of the tree of life. i fuckin guess. You see why the me?/him interview was like, magic? I'm good at it, I guess but my magic isn't right, it works for ME, like crochet with different hands. Go learn from a righty. And that, unto itself, is basically where the concept of the trickster comes from. Because it's all the randomosity and entropy and collectivism, why is he a shapeshifter?"

"...that makes so much sense but I guess it and the way it works making just as much sense to me is a natural byproduct."

"Yes, see, you get it, you're in this game lobby."

"Lmfaooo I was trying to capture something else, but this is funny."

"Everybody's favorite pineapple in a jar in a box in a hole under the sea. plankton is attacking kansas city superbowl speedrunning rebirth for kc at vegas, to the dumb kids. I'm mcfuckinlosinit. You get how a lot of it is truly just butterfly effect with older moments and choices? And you just use that to. yeah. It is literally chaos theory."

Meanwhile, she's trying to spurnfully post on about Hermes as if I didn't already break down why that train of thought is funny, but I'd be delighted to see them, for science.

I'd love to see their songs, old and new, for different, yet related, and somehow identical reasons.

I daresay, the athena buff angle seems to be working swimmingly.

Her logic brain, guys!

#the power of brainrot and uplifting emotional abuse music compels you #my gun so big #i still want her to say sike about the egg tbh

[daysofourlivesrecaps]

Friday, 21 July 2023

Often, kinda by design, it feels like we’re watching three or four different shows on any given day.  But then occasionally we’ll get a gem like this one, where everything connects back to one single plot.

Steve and John are in Los Angeles. (You can always tell we’re in an exotic location because of the two or three shots of exceptionally generic stock footage before we cut to a set that looks very much like it exists somewhere in Salem.)

These guys are hoping to catch Jerry Prentiss, the actor who was involved in Nurse King’s weird plot to kidnap Abe. And honestly, their plan was pretty sound: Jerry left on a bus, so they took something faster than a bus to his destination so they can be there waiting for him when he gets off the bus. Nice job, Black Patch!

They pull a bit of good cop/bad cop with Jerry and for the first time, I sort-of understand what the point of John is. I mean, listen: I have come to love this character and the absolutely bizarre choices his performer makes to play him.

But I was never clear on what his role was in this private eye business of theirs. Steve is clearly the brains, the charm and basically everything else. But now I realize John growls like that because he thinks he’s being intimidating!

This does get answers out of Jerry, but Lani already managed that days ago by being both good and bad cop.

Lani is, indeed, still tied up in Nurse King’s apartment. 

And now — finally — she (Nurse King) is acting suitably crazy. Like, I was having real problems understanding her motives this whole time. She didn’t seem hostile, and most of the stuff she said and did (apart from the initial kidnapping) seemed relatively reasonable. But now, possibly sensing that this storyline will be ending soon, she steps up and takes us to the Promised Land of Batshittery.

Now she’s stopped answering to her real name and apparently actually believes she’s Paulina. And she treats Lani as though she’s the younger woman’s actual mother. 

She’s still definitely Nurse King, though. You can tell from the syringes full of sedatives!

She injects Lani with one of these when Lani hips her to the existence of the ankle monitor that was a condition of her temporary release from prison. “A number of law enforcement agencies, some of which aren’t just extremely dumb, made-up ones created for this show, will be using this to track me here,” she says.

So naturally Nurse King solved the problem the only way she knows how.

The real Paulina, meanwhile, receives a visit from Kate, who continues to hone those excellent “staying active in the story even though this has almost nothing to do with me” skills that make me love her so much.

Paulina expresses a lack of faith that people will be able to do their jobs effectively (whaaaaat? Not Paulina!) and cites the unsolved disappearance of Kate’s son, Philip, some time ago. “If they couldn’t find him, they won’t be able to find Lani, either!”

Philip was a real piece of work who antagonized a bunch of people and ultimately fled town with his mother’s help. Which Kate cops to to Paulina.

Then Paulina, realizing that a lot of the details of Philip’s faked disappearance (fell into the river but no body was recovered — only a small amount of blood) are almost identical to the details of Abe’s.

So she concludes that Abe must therefore still be alive.

Which… okay, she’s right. We know she’s right. But that is some positively Adam West Batman logical leaping right there, Paulina old chum.

At the hospital, Marlena and Kayla chat about their husbands definitely being in Los Angeles (you can tell because the caption said so!), then their conversation drifts to the subject of Nurse King.

Marlena apparently treated Nurse King some time ago, following the accidental death of Mr. Nurse King. Only — and I bet you’re not going to see where this is going, because it was a delightful surprise to me — those therapy sessions happened back when Marlena was possessed by the Devil!

I bet you people think I made all that Devil stuff up. It happened. And the repercussions of those events are still being felt! Marlena and Kayla realize that the Devil almost certainly encouraged Nurse King to feel guilty about her role in the accidental death of her husband (and three of their cats!), which may have led her directly to the aforementioned Promised Land.

Which sucks for Marlena, but also… A+ callback, Days!

And down at the police station, Rafe and Jada are still stressing over the fact that Lani is missing, when this US Marshall shows up to ask… about that thing I just said.

Yes, they did give this US Marshal the exact same name as the US Marshal from The Fugitive and subsequent spin-off movie, which was called US Marshals.

Marshal Significantly Hotter than Tommy Lee Jones reminds everyone that Lani has one of those ankle monitors, so they track the thing down to the dock set that I was certain they’d torn down to make that bus station in LA. (It’s possible that’s still true and they shot these out of order.)

And — oh no! — there’s Lani! And she appears to have been drugged via some kind of injection! BUT WHO COULD HAVE DONE THIS??

#days of our lives #dool #peacock #soap opera

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #16 – Deiform

I actually USED this word in a free day response last year, so I’m gonna follow up on it!

Gwenefyr was, for once, the last one getting home.

She walked in to see Aleister seated at their kitchen table, writing out some kind of scale chart. His Grimoire, the magitek one Cid had made for him, was also laid out on the table, and he seemed to be consulting some information within.

Snowball was happily chasing down a toy she’d coerced the Ironworks engineers to develop for their precocious little ball of aetheric energy. It rolled in random directions and at variable speeds depending on how close it sensed a carbuncle near to it. She watched him for a moment, then moved on to greeting her husband.

She bent down to kiss him on the cheek. “Hi honey. Whatcha working on?” She looked over his shoulder to review the chart he was so intently focused on.

He reached up to hug her. “Hey, darlin. Remember that story I told you about our final fight with Elidibus?”

She considered a moment. “Was that the one where Rheika’s crystal summoned a group of Warriors of light that had another…her in it? Which universe was that….85?”

Franks nodded. “Yup, that’s the one. They had their own version of Fearless too. No Dahk or me, although the latter one isn’t exactly surprising. At any rate, while the girls were talking with their counterparts, one of the others had to remind us that we still had Elidibus to deal with, or as he called him, a ‘Class 12 aetherial deiform entity'”

Gwenefyr laughed. “Well, that’s a bit of a mouthful. But lemme guess, you always wondered what the scale for that “Class” measurement was and now you’re trying to make one?”

He grinned at her. “You know me so well!”

She shook her head and sat down next to him. “So what did you come up with?”

He pushed the chart closer to where she could read it. “Well, I tried a few different measurements, but ultimately the only one I had enough data for was simple aether density. I have scans of more than a few primals to go off of, and that would track. Elidibus and Hades by far had the highest values. So from there I just wrote down the primals I have readings for and came up with a series of ranges that seem to logically progress. Class 11 includes stuff like Alexander and Bahamut, most of the Lunar primals are at 8, most of the other tribal primals we’ve fought are either in 5 or 6, and Snowball over there is like….a 2.”

mrrrrrroooooooow!

Both of their heads simultaneously look up, then towards each other.

They slowly panned to look in their living area.

Snowball’s pale emerald form glared towards Aleister. Gwen marveled at just how expressive the carbuncle’s face was capable of being.

Wait, he was green. That mean he was aspected towards Garuda’s wind aether. How had he done that on his own-

Snowball flicked his tails. A small sphere of wind blasted towards their kitchen counter before becoming a miniature whirlwind….picking up a pitcher of water that had been sitting here.

“Snowball, do NOT-“

The pitcher suddenly catapulted into the air, spilling its contents all over Aleister and the chart he’d worked hard on. The ink immediately smudged, slowly spreading as the paper soaked up more of the water.

With another tail flick, Snowball created another miniature vortex to catch the pitcher, then gently placed it on the table, before leaping into the air and demanifesting. Seconds later, he-recoalesced into his typical blue-hued form, looking very proud of himself.

He had, either by dumb luck or more likely by careful aim, completely avoided getting any water on his summoner’s grimoire or his mama. The pitcher had been less than half full, at least.

Gwen had covered her mouth in shock. Aleister could only sit in stunned silence. Snowball lept onto the table, picked up the soaking remains of the chart with her mouth, and dragged it over to the kitchen’s waste receptacle.

Aleister blinked, then turned his head towards Gwen. “Maybe I’ll just ask Bror, if I ever see him again. Because clearly, I have neglected a factor or two.”

Gwen struggled not to laugh, but quickly lost that battle, doubling over in hysterics.

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXiv Write 2022 #Aleister Franks #oldmanfranks #Gwenefyr Franks #Snowball the carbuncle #WARNING CLASS 12 AETHERIAL DEIFORM ENTITY PRESENT #and it's cute and fluffy

[witnessmysin]

*Clenches fist*

Y'all I got tickets to see Demon Slayer Mugen Train and I'm going to be fucking destroyed. But forewarning it will probably absolutely trigger something in my brain, that small kernel of whumpy desire I have and fan it into a wildfire and I'm sorry but I'll just have to be forced to act.

Sorry I don't make the rules. Kyo/juro owns my heart and hes gonna be so awesome while also getting beat the fuck up subconsciously and physically 💀💀

#that post that went around about what types you like #and i will say its stupid #i love me my stupid characters #and kyo is.. an interesting case. i totally think it was most likely a translation error where he fucked up counting to 8 and somehow got 11 #but its stuck so hard in my brain and endeared me to him along with his other traits #I'm so positive its a translation error but even still in other material he's... himbo-y. he thinks in large extremes #and makes these leaps in logic that make sense to him and if you track it yeah it makes sense but how and why did you think down that path #plus he's such a ray of golden sunshine how can I not love him #like he loves sweet potatoes and its such a dumb rather useles piece of info yet it makes me love him more #and then that... hint at emotional angst he doesn't share with anyone but continues to be such a pillar of positivity and hope #like god what a fantastic character and I will forever hate that they didn't explore that in more depth #like actually still mad about it considering nearly everyone got some degree of in depth look at their psyche and traumas #but Kyo? nah lets just hint at the internal struggle he has being a positive influence while his soul is surrounded by hellfire #exploring the negative effects of having an alcpholic parent constantly saying you're worthless shit and a talentless hack? apparently not #and I gues what I like is he does genuinely have a very upbeat and firey personality and passion. i don't think he fakes that #i think its more he doesnt have the time to or allows himself to process shit so it stays locked in its box. out of sight out of mind #okay enough rambling #sorry I just really love him 🥺 #the fucking snap back to his positive demeanor after having a nightmare rawly exposing some of his insecurities gave me terminal whiplash

[wolferine]

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 2065

Part 2

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp @phoenixofash @marvels-bitch-boy @when-wolves-howl

Despite your super soldier enhancements, it takes a few days before you’re cleared from the medical bay. The bullets you had been shot with were identified as hollow point sniper rounds—basically the biggest, baddest of the bunch. If you had been a normal human, your insides would’ve been shredded to pieces and you would’ve died before you even hit the ground.

You’re retired to light duty while you recover, which is painfully boring and dull. You attend physical therapy to strengthen your body, but sometimes you push yourself too hard and stumble back to your and Natasha’s room with blood staining through your bandages. She always chastises you for hurting yourself, but secretly admires your dedication and will never pass up the opportunity to help take care of you.

One week after the condominium collapse, you join Steve, Clint, and Natasha for a private meeting with members of the Miami Police Department and the FBI. As Steve had suspected, the collapse wasn’t an accident. Someone had deliberately taken out the concrete supports in the parking garage with explosives.

“We couldn’t have just phoned that in?” you whine from the backseat. Clint is in the driver’s seat, Steve next to him. You and Natasha sit in the back. “I mean, they drag us all the way across the city, just to tell us something they could’ve sent over text—” 

“Information like that, the less people to intercept the message, the better,” Steve mutters, staring out the window as the car zooms down the highway.

“I don’t know about that,” you dismiss, and Natasha side-eyes you. She knows you’re just cranky because Steve interrupted your morning cuddle with her. There isn’t much you can do intimately when you can barely twist your torso, so you have to make due with what you can.

“You know, Y/N, you are the one this guy’s after,” Clint points out. “So, if anything, you’re the only one that needed to show up.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a psychopath coming after you—” 

THUD.

Everyone’s head turns to the roof of the car. You swear you see the imprint of a hand dented in the metal.

“What the—”

Natasha suddenly leaps out of her seat and into your lap. She wraps her arms around your neck, yanking your head down.

“Hey!” you shout in protest, but then you hear a bullet whiz behind your head and feel the foam of the headrest cushion spray the back of your neck. Still in your lap, Natasha kicks Steve’s shoulder, causing him to hit his head against the window before a bullet zings through his headrest. Following her example, you kick Clint’s seat and he jolts forward, the bullet missing his head by inches.

“Stop the car!” Steve yells, crunching the gear shift into park.

The tires burn rubber and the car slides back and forth before coming to a grinding halt. Cars behind you honk and swerve around you. A figure goes flying off the roof of the car and lands in the road, rolling to their feet. They wear a black vest, revealing their left arm to be completely made out of metal overlapping plates. Their hair is chin-length and a mask covers the lower half of their face.

Suddenly, an 18-wheeler semi-truck, unable to stop in time, slams into the back of the car. The trunk crumples like an accordion, and you instinctively tighten your grip around Natasha to shield her in case the semi-truck tears the car in half. But it doesn’t, instead pushing your car towards the masked figure, who doesn’t even bother to step out of your path.

They jump onto the hood and punch their metal arm through the windshield, grabbing the steering wheel and tearing it right out of the car. When the masked figure disappears onto the roof, Natasha takes out her gun and starts shooting, but her efforts are fruitless.

There’s no way for Clint to control the direction of the car anymore and it’s too dangerous to stay inside with the masked figure close by.

“Hang on!” Steve says, reaching across the front to grab Clint. In the same motion, he slams his shoulder into his door, knocking it off its hinges. Both men go flying out of the car.

“That looks like a good idea,” you mumble, anchoring your arm to your own car door, the other pressing Natasha against you as tightly as you can. “Hold on, babe.” You ram your shoulder into the door with all your strength, ignoring the pain that rips through your stomach.

The door tears away from the car and turns into a makeshift sled as you go skidding down the highway. Sparks fly from the grinding contact of metal on the concrete road. When you finally come to a stop, Natasha stays on top of you, drawing her weapon and scanning for the masked figure. 

Meanwhile, the masked figure has hijacked the semi-truck, but instead of plowing you over, they turn to tip the entire vehicle over so it blocks every single lane of the highway.

“Where are they?” you pant, trying to lift your head to see the commotion but Natasha forces your head back into the car door. “Nat, stop—” 

“No!” she says. “They’re after you, remember?”

You don’t like the idea of her risking herself for you, but it’s a sweet gesture.

“Where are they?” you ask, unable to see.

“I…I don’t…” Natasha sounds confused. Suddenly, she takes off without warning. You don’t question it and run after her. Steve and Clint are engaged in an intense hand-to-hand match with the masked figure. The masked figure knocks Steve to the ground and wraps their metal hand around Clint’s neck, lifting him off the ground.

You put on a burst of speed, overtaking Natasha and launching yourself at the masked figure’s metal arm. They drop Clint instantly and you wrap your arms around the metal one, but it’s like trying to contain a bucking bull. You jerk your elbow back into their face to stun them, but it has no effect. The masked figure flings out their metal arm and you lose your grip.

You crash into the concrete highway dividers and the impact almost knocks you out. You feel your stitches tear open and you start bleeding underneath your shirt. As you stagger to your feet, you see the masked figure over Natasha, pinning her down and pulling their metal arm back, ready to deal the killing blow—

“No!” you scream, charging towards them. You catch the masked figure’s metal arm again, locking out their elbow and holding it against your chest. Natasha rolls out of harm’s way and Clint jumps into the action, launching himself at the masked figure’s legs and sending all three of you to the ground.

Natasha swings her leg around and kicks the masked figure in the face. The mask falls off. You and Clint struggle to hold them down as Steve walks up, blood dripping from a cut in his forehead.

“Bucky?” Steve says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the man snarls.

“Help!” you choke, not sure how much longer you can hold on to his writhing metal arm. But Steve is frozen the same way Natasha had been when she saw you get shot. “You need to get in here, Steve!” you yell, and suddenly Bucky goes limp. You and Clint exchange confused glances.

“Wait, what?” Clint says.

“What happened?” you ask, hesitantly releasing the metal arm, which flops to the ground. “Why’d he just stop like that? Did I say his safe word or something?”

“What, ‘Steve?’” Clint laughs in spite of the tense situation.

“Apparently.”

Steve is in too much shock to bite back at your jibe.

“I’ll call for reinforcements.” Natasha takes charge. “We’ll bring him back to the Tower.” She comes over to you and touches your side gently, reminding you of the blood staining through your shirt.

“I’m fine,” you assure her, reaching out to run your thumb over the bruise forming under her eye. She closes her eyes and leans into your touch. “Let’s hope that Steve is, too.”

***********************************************************************

Bucky is detained in the holding cell at the Tower and Steve goes to speak with him privately. Afterwards, he regroups with the rest of you. Clint relaxes at the kitchen counter with a beer, while you and Natasha sit on the couch together. She holds an ice pack against your stomach and frets over the fresh swelling in your shoulder.

“So, I’ve got some good and bad news,” Steve says.

“You can start by telling us who that guy is,” Clint interrupts.

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “He’s…an old friend of mine. My best friend, actually—”

“You know, that’s the same thing people thought about me and Nat at first, but obviously we’re more than that—” you start.

“Bucky was also involved in the super soldier program,” Steve continues, ignoring your comment. “But he was under HYDRA’s control for decades. They were the ones who sent him after us. And…” Steve takes a breath, “We were wrong about who his target was. He wasn’t after you, Y/N. He was after me.”

“But he shot Y/N,” Natasha says.

“Twice,” you add.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “Bucky was trying to shoot me. Y/N was just in the way.”

“In the way?” Steve’s logic—or lack of it—makes your head hurt. But as Natasha thinks about it—she’s always been the smarter one in the relationship—it makes complete sense. Her mind flashbacks to the scene of the condominium collapse, where all four of you had gathered on the street after you rescued the last victim. Her and Steve stood across from you and Clint. The bullets had come from behind you—if you hadn’t been standing where you were, Steve would have been hit instead.

“I don’t think you would remember this part, Y/N, but when Nat and I were trying to get you in the ambulance, we were shot at two more times,” Steve explained. “But the bullets hit the sideview mirror and the windshield. Those were places I was in, not you.”

“Okay, so why’s he trying to kill you if you’re his best friend?” you ask.

“It’s all HYDRA’s doing. He told me he’s part of a task force that was created to kill off the Avengers. Specifically, the original six, so there’s six of them in the task force. He’s the only one that got out, and he said the other five are being held in a facility in Siberia. He wants our help to free them,” Steve says.

“So, this Bucky guy wants to work with us now? After he took down a 12-story condominium and almost killed Y/N while trying to kill you?” Clint asks.

“Please, Clint,” Steve begs. “Bucky’s my best friend—”

“A best friend who tried to kill Y/N! And you!” Natasha argues. She lowers the ice pack from your stomach and you frown at the loss of contact. “You know I love you, Steve—”

“Not as much as me,” you mutter under your breath, guiding her hand to put the ice pack back against your side.

“—But I’m gonna need you to do a little better than that.”

“I need you all to trust me,” Steve pleads. “If we have intel telling us that there are five super soldiers in existence, who are programmed to take down the Avengers, isn’t it on us to do something about it?”

“How do we know we can trust Bucky?” Clint asks.

“Well, if he does go rogue, at least we know his safe word,” you answer with a chuckle.

“If you trust me, you’ll trust him,” Steve promises.

You glance at Natasha, who is looking at the floor, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You stretch your arm over her shoulder, pulling her towards you and bumping your heads together.

“What should we do?” you whisper so quietly only she can hear.

Her free arm snakes around your waist, closing the gap between you and her, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. She rests her head against your shoulder. “Trust Steve,” she says.

“Okay.” That’s enough of an answer for you. You press a soft kiss to her temple and look back at Steve. “So, what did you have in mind?”

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

Click here for Part 4!

AN: I love taking inspiration from many places, and the inspiration for this part is the awesome fight on the highway from Captain America: Winter Soldier. Thank you to everyone for the continued support!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow fanfiction #marvel

[fridayfirefly]

Warmth - Part One

Read Warmth on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 3 - Warmth

Damian woke the moment she appeared in his bed, her warm presence instantly triggering his well-ingrained sense of danger. It took him only a half-second of looking at her to realize what had happened. Gently but firmly, Damian nudged her awake.

"You just Soulmate shifted," he informed her as soon as she blinked open her tired blue eyes.

"Okay," she mumbled, speaking with a distinct French accent, "I'm going back to bed."

Damian gave her an incredulous look. "You don't have any follow-up questions?"

"None that can't wait until morning." She rolled over, then immediately sat up. Damian was relieved that she had finally come to her senses until she took off the backpack and purse she had on. "It's super uncomfortable to sleep with a backpack on."

"You brought a backpack?"

"It was the night before my sixteenth birthday. I figured there was a 50-50 chance that I would Soulmate shift, so I decided I might as well pack the essentials."

"That's smart," Damian conceded.

The girl pulled Damian's blanket over her, stopping only when she saw who was sleeping on the pillow she was about to steal. “Is that your cat?”

“Yes, that’s Alfred the Cat.”

“He’s so pretty,” the girl cooed, offering her hand out to the black-and-white cat. Alfred gave her outstretched hand a tentative sniff before nuzzling his head up against her and leaping off of the pillow to settle in her arms.

The girl was asleep in just a moment, soft breathing mixing with the sound of Alfred the Cat’s rumbling purr. Damian was left awake to watch her, to try and puzzle out some clues to who she was based on the half-dozen sentences she spoke before falling asleep.

The most important piece of information Damian knew: she was his Soulmate. It was so easy, it was barely a deduction. On the night of their sixteenth birthday, the younger Soulmate of a Soulmate pair shifts into the bed of the older Soulmate. So long as the younger Soulmate continues sleeping in the same bed as the older Soulmate, they will remain together. However, as soon as the Soulmate pair sleeps apart, the younger is returned to their original bed. After that, the Soulmate pair has to physically travel to meet. The only explanation for what just happened (i.e. the girl's sudden appearance in Damian's bed) was that she was his Soulmate.

By the same logic, Damian also knew that today, August 9th, was the girl's sixteen birthday. That made her five months younger than himself. From her accent, Damian believed her to be Parisian.

Damian held off of making any more assumptions about her out of respect for his Soulmate. It wouldn't be fair to judge her before they properly met.

Checking the clock, Damian saw that it was midnight. Figuring that it would do him no good to stay up all night staring at her, Damian pulled a second blanket over himself and went to sleep.

-----

Damian woke up at eight in the morning, the girl still sleeping away beside him. Damian was confused, as the differences in time zone meant that if she were still in France, she would be sleeping at two in the afternoon. Figuring that she had gotten a full eight hours of sleep and that it would be a good idea to stop any potential jetlag in its tracks, Damian nudged her awake.

"Hmm, where am I?" She mumbled in tired French.

"You Soulmate shifted into my bed. You're in Gotham, New Jersey," responded Damian, in English, since he knew she could speak it.

That seemed to wake her up. "America?" she asked again, this time in English.

"Yes."

She blinked, wide-eyed, and shaken. "That isn't at all what I expected. Not that it's a bad thing, I just figured I would stay in Europe, at least. I'm from France - Paris, France. And I'm Marinette, by the way."

"I'm Damian. So I assume you just turned sixteen."

Damian didn't phrase it as a question, but Marinette nodded anyway and said, "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, then."

Marinette smiled nervously. "Thanks. I was very out of it last night, so I apologize if I came off as rude. I was just so nervous about shifting that I stayed up until five in the morning on a caffeine-high and then crashed so hard I think I went into a temporary coma."

"Do you do that a lot?"

"Only on the weekend," she joked. "On weekdays I try to keep it one espresso shot every six hours."

"You'll get along well with my brother, then. He's also a caffeine addict."

"So you have brothers, Damian my older Soulmate from Gotham."

"Five months older. Three brothers and two sisters, though I'm related to none of them by blood. One Father and one butler who doubles as a Grandfather figure. One cat, one dog, and one cow."

"Cow?"

"It's a long story. I'm vegetarian, the cow was on the way to the slaughterhouse, and I decided that I needed to intervene."

Marinette smiled at him like she couldn't believe that he was real. "So when do I get to meet the brothers and sisters."

Damian glanced over at the clock, reading 8:34. "Breakfast starts in twenty-six minutes. That should give you enough time to get ready."

Marinette's eyes lit up. "I have the perfect meeting-my-Soulmate's-family outfit in my backpack." She hopped off the bed and grabbed her backpack, taking it into his connecting bathroom. "I'll meet you in twenty."

Damian watched her shut the door behind her, trying to believe his luck. Marinette was clever, witty, and beautiful, with a smile that could light up a room. He had known that his Soulmate would be perfect for him, but it hadn't really hit him until he saw her up close. Marinette was perfect. Now, he thought as he pulled out his phone and got into the family groupchat, all he had to do was make sure his stupid brothers didn't ruin it.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #daminette #miraculous ladybug fic #soulmate au #marinette x damian #maridami #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Damian Wayne #MaribatMarch2021

[aminiatureworld]

Injury

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,657

Warnings: Blood, injury, slight violence, minor villain death 

 Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured. 

Author’s Note: Week 3 of keeping up my writing schedule let’s go! This week is a bit angsty, my forte (I think?) As usual part one – with Albedo, Childe, and Diluc – will be posted tonight and part two – Kaeya, Xiao and Zhongli – tomorrow.

At first this was going to be both your injury and your recovery but then the first character hit over 1.5k words so I guess this is going to be a pseudo-series. I really don’t know the definition of concise lol.

In the first part of my last fic I realize I gendered a word. I’m super sorry about that, and I promise to fix it and tag properly next time. Childe gets to go into the stone forest cause I say he can. I’m not sure if waypoints are diegetic or nondiegetic. I decided to make them so. Also the first hospital in China was opened in the early 1800s, and I know hospitals aren’t very “fantasy” but Teyvat has good medical science in my book.

Albedo

Throughout his life the one thing that Albedo never truly understood was peoples’ obsession with modesty, even when it was false.

There was a lot that Albedo was proud of in regards to himself; his intellect for one, his curiosity, his abilities as an alchemist, the fact that he feared little in the world. Above all perhaps was the pride he held in carrying himself without falling into hysteria, his grip on his emotions was impeccable and whenever he was unfortunate enough to see others gripped with a heavy emotion he was always left with a sour feeling in his mouth – a disgust for someone who had so little sense they couldn’t even control themselves.

This was a pride that left him quickly enough upon seeing you injured.

It wasn’t meant to be a dangerous expedition. It’d merely been a check of the vast network of caves and tunnels that could be found in Dragonspine. A route affair, mundane even in how simple it supposedly was. There was nothing to be afraid of. Albedo had told you that back at home and you’d smiled in agreement. Yes, there was nothing to be worried of, a few hilichurls at most and a temperature that could be easily kept in check with the right preparation. You’d be there and back in less than a day, no problem.

Everything, however, had gone horribly wrong. The cave that you two intended to explore turned out to be a vast network, full of tight tunnels and half submerged under freezing water. You two had managed that well enough, although once Albedo had almost slipped and fallen into the underground river, the whole outlook of the expedition was looking drearier and drearier.

Eventually you’d reached what had seemed to be the heart of the cave, floor after floor of ice with a hole in the middle, all lit up by crystal and scarlet quartz. It was an impressive sight to be sure and you’d stood a little ways away from the edge, observing the way the light refracted off the ice coated walls, waiting for Albedo to be finished with his sampling, enjoying the awesome sight in front of you.

Albedo had just finished when you’d let out a yelp. Whirling around he saw what had captured your attention – a wild snowboar who’d managed to wander in. The two of you watched the very confused creature in awe, only staring as it stomped the ground and charged right into the wall.

That was a mistake.

All of the sudden the cavern started shaking violently. Cursing the boar for its terrible – or maybe impeccable – aim the two of you sprinted towards the exit. You’d managed to gain the lead, not bogged down by Albedo’s extensive equipment, and had turned around near the beginning of the tunnel in order to help him. Just as you were heading back one of the many icicles that lined the roof of the cave came undone, landing with a sickening thud right where your collarbone met your spine.

You’d dropped like a rock, and Albedo felt his stomach to turn water and his mind turn to static, as suddenly all logic seemed to leave him, instead replaced by dread so overpowering he seemed to lose track of his surroundings, chained to the ground by something greater than himself.

You groaned and time seemed to unfreeze itself, instead accelerating at a breakneck pace. Leaping into action Albedo immediately dropped all of his equipment, the sound of glass vials shattering muffled by the cases that held them and the panic that was gripping him. Hauling you over his back he ran through the tunnels, wincing every time you made a sound and biting his tongue every time he shimmied through a particularly tight spot and it seemed it might not let the two of you pass as you were.

He could feel the blood seeping through his gloves. Your blood. Only a few minutes ago he wasn’t even sure that icicles could make one bleed. Now he wished he’d never found out, wished that he’d never asked to explore the caves of Dragonspine, wished that you’d never agreed to it. How could he have been so foolish, so blind to the dangers that waited in vast caverns of ice and snow, where the slightest wrong movement could spell your death.

Albedo could’ve cried when he sighted the camp. Indeed he might’ve, realizing that there were frozen tears on his cheeks only after you’d been taking to the medical tent. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t noticed anything really in those terrifying moments between when you’d gotten hurt and when he’d made it to the camp. It all seemed not to exist in his mind, washed away by the emotions that had wracked his mind and body. Even now he couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the tide of emotions that was crashing into him like a wave, utterly helpless as he was thrown this way and that.

The pride that he’d clung to was in tatters, and Albedo looked upon it now in disgust. He’d been so innocent, so foolish, perhaps mercifully so. But all that was gone, and his certainty had gone with it. There was nothing left of him almost; nothing except fear and anger and worry, and Albedo wondered when he might ever feel sure of everything again.

It was cloudy when you were released, arm in a sling, brace around your shoulders. Albedo wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it had seemed like an eternity. The urge to run up to you and wrap you in the tightest hug imaginable was intense, but the sight of the brace held him back. Instead he brought you hand up to his face, kissing your palm before holding it against his cheek. You smiled at that, but there was fatigue in your eyes and you said nothing. Albedo couldn’t blame you. He moved to let go and turn towards the path, somehow feeling unworthy of holding your hand after being the cause of your predicament, but you quickly grasped his hand once more. He smiled a slightly shocked smile, but made no move to let go.

As you two walked back to Mondstadt Albedo felt himself once more flooded by negative thoughts. Lowering his gaze so he was looking at the ground he paused for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

Albedo found his voice cracking, tears welling his eyes even as he chastised himself for how stupid he must’ve looked. You were safe, you were going to be alright, the head of the clinic had said so himself. Why then did he still feel like he might crumble any minute? Shaking his head he moved to cover his face with his hand.

“Hey.” There was still fatigue in your voice, but there was also an urgency in it. You squeezed the hand you were holding, moving so you were facing him. “Hey, is it okay if you look at me?”

Albedo moved his head up slowly. He was truly crying by now, having given up all efforts to do so otherwise. You smiled softly as his eyes met yours.

“I’m alright, okay? And you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. I doubt that even the drunkest man in Monstadt could’ve guessed a wild boar would wander in a cavern and start a cave in. You can’t control fate you know.”

“I know.” Albedo forced the words out, although more and more it seemed impossible, his throat was too constricted to be anything more than barely coherent. “Still. I should’ve known. And I should’ve kept it together. I, why am I crying? Why wasn’t I in control? Why, why am I still not in control?”

“Because you’re human Albedo.” You replied, shaking your head slightly. “You’re the most wonderful human alive, but you’re still human. You mustn’t beat yourself up for what you are. I’d rather you cry anyways. There’s nothing noble in hiding your emotions, they must come out one way or another. So please, please cry all you want, long and hard. And tomorrow you can start your penance, alright?”

“Penance?” Albedo mumbled, still crying. You nodded, smile still nothing but fondness and understanding.

“Well someone’s going to have to help me for the next two months. And I know you’re too much a gentleman to make me stumble along myself.”

“Of course.” Albedo’s answer came fast and sure. He paused then, realizing that, by distracting him with the weeks to come, you’d managed to give him a pocket of time to calm himself, to feel himself once more firmly planted on the ground. Love mixed with anger and sadness in his mind, and for a moment he could only marvel at you.

Albedo leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. He’d do whatever he could to help you, this he promised himself. And this too he promised himself; you’d never ever be hurt on his watch again.

Childe

If there was anything that Childe hated it was a lack of control. The feeling of everything slipping through his fingers was something he’d felt often as a child, and that feeling had haunted him. When he’d signed up as a member of the Fatui he’d promised himself that he’d never feel that way again. He’d protect those he loved and he’d keep his life from falling apart. It was a promise he was determined to keep, no matter what.

You two had decided to go hiking. Or rather it was less of a hike and more of a rock climb. Childe had long bragged that the Huaguang Stone Forest was the most beautiful place to watch the sunset, and you’d finally gotten a free weekend. Waypointing your way there initially, your partner had taken an almost childlike joy from choosing which mountain was the highest.

“Childe have you decided yet? The sun is almost at the horizon.” You called out at the Harbinger. Childe was, much to your dismay, the stronger climber, and had taken to scouting ahead of time to see if the spot you were climbing to was any good. Now he glanced down at you, mischief written all over his face, his smirk flashier than usual. He put his hand on his chin and looked outward once more.

“Hmm… I don’t know…”

“Childe!” You exclaimed, your arms slightly killing you. You really wish that you’d convinced Childe to bring a roped and belay. Unfortunately that request had been met with a whine and an accusation of “that’s cheating!” You’d laughed it off at the time, but now you were starting to regret your partner’s recklessness. As much as you were enjoying your time – being alone with Childe always felt intensely special and you cherished every moment of it – you were also impatient to actually watch the sunset, and in your hurry you wondered if it might not be faster to climb back down and watch from the bridge.

“I do believe that we’ve found the tallest one!”

“Thank the Seven.” You groaned, hurrying to get to the top. Childe chuckled, watching you scale up the mountain.

“Oh come now, I had to make sure it was perfect! Besides you looked so comfortable perched there, it almost hurt to disrupt you.”

“When I get up there I’m killing you.” You shot back, reaching towards the ledge. Still laughing Childe stuck out his hand and you moved to grab it, pushing off with your feet as much as possible, determined to make it up the mountain in the next move.

The laughter died from Childe’s lips the moment your hand missed. Instead it was replaced by fear, cold and sharp as a knife, plunging straight through his heart. Time seemed to slow down, but you were falling so fast, falling, falling, falling. Catapulting himself off the top of the mountain Childe reached out for you. In his mind he was screaming. Glide. Oh please, for the love of the Seven glide. Please, don’t fall, it’s so high up. I couldn’t bear it. Please.

Still the words were stuck in his mouth, and his throat only constricted more when you hit the bridge with a sickening thud. Releasing his own wings at the last moment he landed on the bridge too, only a few meters away from where you were now crumpled up. Running over he scooped you up. You’d managed to right yourself at the last moment in the air so that you were landing feet first, but though you’d managed to protect your head your legs dragged limply, and one was bent at an awkward angle. Looking at your mangled form, listening to you as you screamed and whimpered in pain, Child felt overwhelmed by his vast helplessness. There was nothing he could do. Burying his head in your neck he sobbed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The journey to Liyue was excruciating, both for you and for Childe. Although there was no external bleeding the initial adrenaline of falling had no worn off and you felt every jolt and movement as Childe slung you on his back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and carrying you to the nearest waypoint and then to the Liyue doctor. Even when Childe was standing still you thought you might die from the sheer pain. So intense it was that sometimes you gave up, blacking out only to wake up feeling like you were drowning, the burning air around you almost too hot and too heavy to breathe.

Childe willed himself to numbness throughout the journey, only allowing him to collapse once you’d reached the hospital, practically ramming into the nearest chair in the waiting room, the situation washing over him.

How could he have let this happen? Hadn’t he made a promise? A promise that he’d protect those he’d love, that he’d never lose control of a situation again, that he’d never let those he cared about suffer? Where was that promise now? His whole world seemed to collapse in on itself now. He hadn’t been able to protect you. Despite his training, his reflexes, his vision, his everything. You’d still fallen. And as powerful as Childe liked to think he was, he still couldn’t turn back time and stop your suffering.

Finally the doctor opened the door and Childe was let in to see you. After informing him that you were on painkillers the doctor left you two alone. Faced with you laying on the hospital bed Childe sank into the nearest chair. Lacing his fingers through yours he drew circles on your hand over and over. For a moment you two said nothing, then Childe let his head rest on your hands. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice raw.

“I know.” You replied, mind a bit hazy from the painkillers, the magic infused herbs luring you to sleep. Still you pushed forward, needing to say something before Childe let himself be carried away. “I know, but it’s not your fault. And it’s not irreversible. The doctor says in 8 weeks I’ll be fine. Until then, we’ll just have to improvise.”

“But what about your adventuring? Your commissions? How can you do those if you can’t –”

“I’ll figure it out. Adventuring isn’t just monster slaying you know. And there’s no catastrophe in being in a wheelchair or on crutches.” You shook your head. Childe was still crying, and you could feel his tears running down your linked hands.

“Ajax.” Childe’s head shot up, surprised. He loved when you called him by his true name, it always seemed like a song falling from your lips. And now that song was filled with understanding, if not a bit of sadness. “I want you to not blame yourself.” You continued. “I know it’ll be hard, I know that these feelings won’t go away. And I’m not blaming you for them. I’m not happy about this either, of course I’m not, I just went through a world of pain. But I won’t be able to stand watching you beat yourself up for 8 weeks, I won’t be able to stand that look in your eyes every time you look at me. So please, please stop. If not for yourself then for me.”

Childe stared at your for a while. You waited, not wanting to rush his thought process. Eventually though he shook his head, a small smile finally breaking his expression.

“You’re too good for me you know. Alright. I promise to try. It’s the least I could do.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. Childe smiled back. He didn’t know how you managed to do it, how you managed to take his fears and look them in the face. All he knew at that moment was that he loved you. And for now, that was enough.

 Diluc

Diluc stared in horror as the Fatui Bracer aimed a Geo projectile right at you, his horror multiplying into rage and terror as the concentrated energy flew through the air and landed right at the base of your ribcage. You crumpled at the impact, wheezing heavily, apparently stunned from the power and speed of the attack.

How could this have happened? Diluc knew that the Fatui were gathering in Mondstadt, something that the winery owner turned Darknight Hero couldn’t stand. But never did he think to see Fatui skirmishers right outside the walls of Monstadt, strolling along the beach of Cider Lake as if it were Snezhnaya. Never did he think he’d have to see another loved one felled by a member of the Fatui, and never did he think that he could bear the emotions coursing through him now.

He made quick work of the Bracer, hacking and swinging without rhyme or reason, barely able to comprehend what was going on. Everything felt oddly separated from him, as if he were watching through someone else’s eyes, watching as he burned through the Bracer’s shields as easily as if it were made of wax, leaving the man groaning and screaming in pain before silencing him altogether.

The feeling of separation only grew more powerful as he ran over to you. You seemed to be conscious, but your breathing was shallow and ragged, and the place where the Fatui’s attack had hit seemed mangled, one of your ribs having seemingly been broken. You were screaming, though it was hoarse and low and tired. Still if you were screaming you were alive, and at least Diluc could hold onto that.

Carrying you in his arms Diluc winced as you let out another shriek of pain. You two weren’t far from the gates of Monstadt, but every step seemed to be a thousand steps and what was surely only a few hundred meters instead felt like tens of thousands of miles.

You were going to be alright. At least the doctor had said you were going to be alright. Surely Diluc could be grateful for that? But he didn’t feel grateful, instead he felt anger and hatred welling up inside of him. He’d told himself it was no good to be an angry or hateful person, that doing so would only push you away, would only destroy the fragile bonds he’d managed to build between you and a selection of others. But still the anger and the hatred lingered, refusing to be quelled or stuffed away.

He wanted revenge. Revenge on the Fatui, on the Tsaritsa, on the uncaring world that let him be so tormented, and that so tormented the ones he loved. How could this have happened to you? You who were made of goodness, more goodness than he’d found in the world beforehand. How was this a fitting reward?

It was decided that you could stay at the Winery during the 6 grueling weeks that was to be your convalescence. Diluc said nothing on the way there. He was afraid what would happened if he opened his mouth. Already he knew his face was betraying the feelings welling within him. He didn’t need to make it worse, not now.

Arriving at the Winery Diluc carried you to his room, the nicest room there was. Up to this point you’d said nothing, and Diluc wondered if you weren’t too groggy to do so. However when you spoke up there was an urgency in your voice, one he simply couldn’t ignore.

“You’re angry. You’re trying to hide it but I know it.”

“I’m not the one in pain right now.” Came a curt reply. Diluc was looking at you with what others might’ve mistaken as a glare. Perhaps it was even that, but there was something beneath it, and you knew it ultimately wasn’t directed at you.

“I am. And I’m upset too. But I’ve accepted it. You need to accept that you’re angry too. Burying it won’t help, it’ll only make it worse you know. You have to acknowledge your emotions. You don’t have to hide them. At least not in front of me.”

The expression on Diluc’s face finally broke. The anger there was raw and palapable, but there was also something else, something he’d also buried.

“I was… terrified.” Diluc finally let out. “I was so terrified it frightened me. I… I thought I was going to lose you.”

“And you shouldn’t have to hide that either.” You prodded softly. “But I’ll be alright, I promise. So please, just be open with me and then we’ll go from there.”

Diluc nodded, finding himself unable to speak. Walking over to where you were laying down he peppered kisses all over your face, light and ethereal as butterflies.

He’d do right by you. That’s what he promised himself, after all the hiding and the pain. He’d do right by you. But he’d also not forgive the Fatui for what they’d done, and tonight when Monstadt was asleep the Darknight would be watching. And for any Snezhnayan roaming the streets and lurking in the shadows, there’d be no forgiveness.

#this is being posted later in the night than wanted so sorry about the typos #I'll reedit tomrrow morning I promise! #okay wow my computer almost crashed right now okay #albedo #childe #diluc #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

[jincherie]

sunshine riptide | ot7

—  COMMISSION  —

⊙  — pairing: ot7 x reader ⊙  — genre: hybrid au, fluff, comfort, found family, ac inspired ⊙  — wc: 13.8k+ ⊙  — warnings: oc has an almost/light anxiety attack towards the end. there is no explicitly mentioned trigger and it isn’t dwelled on for long, but better to let u guys know! ⊙  — notes: here it is! it’s soft, and warm, and I hope that it can be something to cheer up a little bit those who aren’t having such a good day. i love u all,  and I hope you like this piece :) to the commissioner, thank you for allowing me to write this and I truly hope it helps you feel even just a little bit better! <3

Moving to this island whose inhabitants are mostly hybrids was a bit of an impulse decision, something you did with empty pockets barely a cent to your name. Thanks to the kindness of the island’s ‘mayor’ you have a place to stay, the last spare room in a sharehouse with seven hybrids, and for three months he will pay your rent in exchange for you to work in his shop until you are back on your feet. It’s a sweet deal, but when you begin to get along better than expected with your housemates and the deadline for your departure looms ever closer, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to make yourself leave when the time comes. 

— posted; 06.09.2020 | masterlist

“So in exchange for three months paid stay on the island while you get back on your feet, you will work part-time at the Rabbits Den three days a week, and man the desk in the Resident Services Building on Sundays. Is that okay to you?”

You nod eagerly, the ordeal seeming too good to be true and something you’re afraid will be retracted if you don’t act with haste. Mr Bang returns your motion with a little less fervour, the same kind look never leaving his face.

“Perfect, it’s settled then! We’re glad to have you with us, y/n.”

Something lifts from your chest in that moment, as though you’d been walking beneath the cover of a lead blanket and it has finally slipped from your shoulders. You feel a little breathless, and you know the grin that slips onto your face is stupidly wide. Embarrassingly, you feel salty pricks at the corner of your eyes.

“Thank you so much,” you say, and you mean it. It hadn’t exactly been a well thought out plan, moving here with nothing to your name but your most basic possessions, but you’d just needed to escape and start anew and this… this had been the first opportunity you’d seen. The best opportunity you’d seen. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, young lady.” Mr Bang’s expression grows even softer, if possible. “This is a place people come to find refuge, and happiness. You’re welcome here.”

You clear your throat, turning your head to the side and pretending that you need to cough so he doesn’t see the tear that slips out. You have a feeling he knows, though, as you turn back and find him smiling at you, floppy rabbit ears framing his round face. He reaches out, patting you on the shoulder.

“Now, lets find you a room for the night. I’ll send word to the house I have in mind and make sure they have it nice and tidy before your arrival tomorrow. Sound good?”

It hits you only now how tired you are, more emotionally exhausted than anything, and nod while allowing him to lead you down the hall. That does sound good, actually. That sounds amazing.

O – O – O

You’d arrived on this island in the early hours of the morning yesterday, the late-night ferry the only one that runs to this island on the outskirts of the archipelago. It’s likely due to the fact that the captain is a nocturnal hybrid, and hence prefers to run his business under the cover of night. You hadn’t been able to sleep on the trip over, so when Mr Bang had shown you to the room he was happy to lend you for the night, despite it being barely ten o’clock in the morning you’d passed out the second your head hit the pillow. It was more of a nap than anything, but you suspect that the events of the past few months all caught up to you at once because you woke only for dinner and then fell asleep once more. Mr Bang offered no judgement, and simply left a note instructing you where the bathroom is and where you could find towels so that you could freshen up once you awoke. He also left you a coffee bun in a container, since you’d missed the afternoon tea he held the day before.

You hadn’t even been on this island a day and already the kindness of one of the residents was almost bringing you to tears.

Due to the fact that you’d slept far too early, you end up waking up at an ungodly hour the next day, the day you are meant to be moving in to the sharehouse that Mr Bang told you about. Laying in the bed, nestled in the warmth of the covers and watching as the suns rays slowly begin to stain the ceiling and the curtains in rich marigold, you do your best to get yourself together. You can breathe easy now, any anxiety you’d felt previous now nothing more than an echo in your chest. You feel refreshed, and not just from the ridiculous amount of sleep you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours. There are of course some nerves pertaining to meeting your new housemates, but it’s manageable. You have faith that everything will turn out well. It’s a good feeling.

Mr Bang is kind enough to offer you breakfast, and likely would have pushed you to stay for lunch had you not shown up down the stairs with your baggage already in tow. So begrudgingly, he allows you to head on your way, informing you that your new housemates knew of your arrival and had endeavoured to tidy up as much as possible. You thought it was a little funny he was telling you that—just how messy is the house usually?—but he simply shook his head with a smile that told you the answer would come soon enough.

The island isn’t big, but it most definitely isn’t small. The sun is warm and the air cool with a tinge of salt and sea trailing along the breeze, and the path you walk along that skirts the beach is peppered with sand and the odd shell. It makes you happier than anticipated, because just being out here makes you feel so free. Mr Bang told you that the house where you will be staying is on the other side of the island, past the little cluster of shops and small businesses and perched at the edge of the sand, backing onto a river that flows into the ocean and skirted on one side by a small cliff.

“It’s their own little alcove,” Mr Bang had snorted, a mixture of fondness and amusement evident on his features. “They get up to more trouble than I can keep track of over there, but they’re good boys.”

Ah, that’s right. You’d almost forgotten; your new housemates are a bunch of boys. You hope that Mr Bang is right about their character and you won’t be living in discomfort for the next three months.

The path wound and curved a bit, following the edge of the island, and before long you were walking through a section of light forestry. You suspected the house would be on the other side, and were in the midst of thinking just what it would look like when a small squeak! catches your attention and you halt, almost dropping your bag.

It’s silent, save for the way the breeze caresses the leaves around you. You peer around, eyes unable to spot anything in the foliage. Did you imagine it? It’s a little early in your stay to be going crazy. Hesitantly, you adjust your grip on your bag and resume your trek.

Squeak! S-squeeeak!

No, you definitely heard that. You freeze, having gotten a better sense of where the sound is coming from now and turning towards a large tree smothered in vines of varying thickness and clinginess. For a moment, you don’t see anything, eyes squinting hard—it’s like one of those I spy books you used to rave about as a kid— and just when you think you might be looking in the wrong place, you catch movement.

There, in a cluster of the vines dangling from one of the tree’s thicker limbs, is a tiny creature, all tangled up and squeaking in distress.

“Oh my goodness,” you drop your bag, immediately moving closer.  “Poor thing—hold on just a second, bub. I’ll get you out. Promise not to bite me?”

The creature offers a squeak and logically you know it isn’t answering your request, but you pretend it is anyway. Carefully stepping over plants and twigs, thanking past you for wearing more practical boots, you reach where the creature is stuck, dangling just below eye level.

The vines it has managed to get all tangled up in aren’t particularly thick, but there are a lot of them, and it has managed to get a few of its limbs stuck in place. Carefully, you snap a few of the more central ones and ease the tiny thing out, getting a better view of it the more you pull from its body. It’s squeaking all the while, though with much less distress and more of an energy that simply feels chatty. It makes you smile.

“There you go,” you murmur, cradling the tiny baby in your palms and cooing, trying to calm the heartbeat and hurried breaths you can feel racing against your skin. You stroke along its back as lightly as you can manage. “Oh, you’re a little sugar glider! You’re so pretty, such a cutie. Look at your markings, wow… so pretty.”

Almost as though it can understand your praise and is basking in it, it flicks its bushy tail and rolls in your palm, like a cat rubbing against something with its cheek except this little glider is doing it with its whole body. It’s awfully friendly, you note. Perhaps much of the wildlife here is more peacefully accustomed to human and hybrid activity.

“Okay, you’re free now. I’ll stop ogling at you and let you go,” you say, holding your hands up to a part of the tree that isn’t covered in vines lest there be a repeat of the earlier situation. The sugar glider merely blinks, eyes still on you, and doesn’t move. Brows drawn in confusion, you move your hands closer to the tree, “Well, aren’t you going to—oh!”

Faster than you can react, the little thing darts from your hands, leaping to your bicep and scurrying up with tiny claws in your shirt to your shoulder. Once at its apparent destination, it rushes to the crook of your neck and makes itself at home, nestling against you and securing itself with its tail partway around the back of your neck and its little paws clutching your shirt edge. You giggle, still in shock and trying not to jostle it off as you fight the ticklish sensation.

“Okay. I guess you can come with me. I’m not sure if you can stay the whole while, but I’m sure it will be okay while I walk.”

So off you go, bending and retrieving your bag carefully so you don’t dislodge your tiny new companion. You’ve seen a bit of sugar gliders, but the way this one is acting is quite peculiar. If it sticks around until you arrive at the house, you’d love to snap a quick picture because it really is so pretty, so cute.

The trip is faster than anticipated, now there is something else to occupy your thoughts. Before you know it you’re out of the forestry and approaching a large, modern three storey building that is probably just a few yards short of a mansion, nestled between the ocean, the river, and a short cliff-face just barely higher than the roof. This is the place for sure.

The little glider seems to perk up, the closer you get, something that surprises you since it was so quiet you thought it was asleep. With a soft noise, it grabs onto your hair with tiny paws and scurries to the top of your head, likely making a mess of it in the process but it’s so cute you can’t bring yourself to mind. At least it will be an interesting first impression.

As you approach the front door, you think you see movement in one of the windows on the ground floor. You almost dismiss it as you reach the eve, until you catch the hurried patter of feet against hardwood from beyond the door.

You barely manage to blink before the door is flying open, a man with raven curls and two fluffy russet ears peeking between the locks presenting you with the biggest grin you have ever seen on anyone’s face. It’s boyish and cute, a direct contrast to the mature, sculpted features of his face.

“Hello!” he says, and you catch sight of a long, fluffy russet tail whipping behind him and betraying his excitement—not that he was doing much to hide it. “You must be the new roomie! It’s nice to meet you! We’ve been waiting all morning, and one of us actually went to pick you up but… I’m not sure where he is.”

You’re a little overwhelmed but easily recover when he simply keeps looking at you so happily, returning the man’s bright smile. There’s rustling in your hair at the back of your head but you ignore it, adjusting your grasp on your bag. “Ah, thank you. I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

The man pulls back, a sheepish look on his face that accompanies a light flush in his cheeks. “Oh, right. I’m Taehyung. Sorry. My hyungs tell me I tend to get a bit ahead of myself sometimes.”

You keep the smile on your face. “That’s okay, we got there in the end. It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung brightens, tail curling happily behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted from a voice to the side.

“Are you going to make our poor new housemate wait outside all day, Tae?”

The light blush colouring Taehyung’s cheeks deepens, a sheepish laugh escaping. “No. I was just about to invite her in!”

He steps back and reveals the person behind him who had spoken, a tall man with dimples and silvery hair that did little to conceal the large, rounded grey ears atop his head. He seems a little awkward in his stance, like he has more body than he knows what to do with, but still extends an arm in greeting with a kind smile. “y/n, is it? Welcome, please come in. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us, however brief. We’re happy to have you.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry! If you cry now you can never show your face here again. You clear your throat, returning his smile as you step inside and out of the sun, the difference in temperature against your skin immediate. “Thank you, I really appreciate your generosity in letting me stay here.”

“Nonsense,” Taehyung snorts, “Namjoon-hyung has been saying for months we should find someone to fill the spare room, and now you show up on our doorstep! It’s perfect.”

The taller, who Taehyung had referenced as Namjoon, seems a little bashful, his cheeks heating. Does everyone in this house blush so easily? You hope it’s not contagious.

There is movement in your hair again, the glider apparently needing to breathe, and you have your mouth open ready to explain when Namjoon beats you to it.

“Oh, I see you’ve met Jimin already!”

What?

The glider leaps from your head and onto Taehyung’s outstretched arm, climbing to his head before leaping from that too and gliding through the air, all the way around the corner. There is a small clutter, the sound of a light swearword entering the air, and then the ever-familiar patter of feet against hardwood. Another boy rounds the corner, ashy-blond hair tousled and parted by two small grey ears, bushy tail curling behind him.

He skids to a stop in front of you, dipping in a brief bow before rising and shooting you a bright smile. “Hello! Thank you for helping me! I’m Jimin, welcome home!”

It takes all of your willpower to keep the happy tears at bay as you tilt your head back and laugh, already feeling lighter than you ever remember feeling before.

O – O – O

Your next introductions to the hybrids you will be sharing your home with for the next three months go much smoother and without as many surprises as the last ones. Jimin, who seems to have warmed up to you quickly, was more than happy to take you on a tour of the house and to go through introductions while he was at it. He happily told you who was what hybrid as well, without you asking. You figured that he realised your underperforming human nose wouldn’t be able to tell, so he took the initiative and you’re thankful for it, because you were curious.

The oldest resident of the house is Seokjin, a red-panda hybrid who goes on a spree of stress-baking every time exam season rolls around. Most of the hybrids study online, as you learnt from Jimin’s excited chattering. The second you met Jin, as he preferred to be called, you were stunned at how handsome he was. Of course, any awe that rooted you to the spot quickly dissipated as he said a joke so painfully funny it left you with whiplash between the urge to roll your eyes and guffaw. You like him, though. He’s nice.

You quickly discover that all the inhabitants of this house are, though. Yoongi is the second oldest and a squirrel glider hybrid—something Jimin said he found funny since he was closest to Jimin, a sugar glider, and Hoseok, the third oldest and a sunny squirrel hybrid. He giggled as he told you, and you couldn’t hide your own smile even as Yoongi’s ear had flicked and he’d shot the two of you a suspicious look. The little fun fact Jimin had told you about Yoongi had taken you by surprise; he remotely operates the island’s radio, many of the tunes ones he has created himself. Often, if there is a festival, he will volunteer his time to work the music jobs there, too. Apparently Namjoon also pitches in, and Hoseok when he has free time outside of the classes he teaches on the other side of the island.

Hoseok is a dancer, Jimin had gushed, and while he teaches at the school part time, he also volunteers time outside of that to hold dance classes for the kids. Jimin told you that he joins occasionally, but less often lately since his workload for university has increased. He did tell you, though, that the youngest of the house had all but taken his place, his youthful heart at home mucking around with kids and helping them learn.

Jungkook is his name, and Jimin informed you with a very fond and very amused look that he is rather shy, so you might not see him for a few days. Apparently it had been uttered just loud enough for the hybrid in question to catch it though, because there was a tumbling sound from the floor above and a series of stomping footsteps. A head of long, wavy inky hair had popped over the railing, grey ears pinned back as a baby-faced boy delivered a glare to the blonde to your side.

“Hyung! That’s not true! I’m not too shy to even introduce myself!” he had defended himself avidly, red-faced and huffy. When his eyes turned to you, mouth open to follow through on his words, he abruptly shrank and all that escaped was a squeak. It took him a moment to conjure speech once more, and this time he was noticeably less bold. “I’m—I’m Jungkook! It’s nice to meet you! I have to go now! Goodbye!”

And then he was gone, and so concluded your final introduction to the residents you had yet to meet. You thought you had a good feeling when you first arrived, but now that you’ve met everyone and everything feels that bit more real, you find yourself thinking…

It’s a really good feeling.

O – O – O

“It’s not what it looks like!”

You raise a brow, book in hand as you stand at the edge of the sand bank where green bleeds into gold. Against your heels is cool grass, and your toes are dipped in the gentle warmth of the sand. Namjoon sits in front of you, beneath a tree protruding from the dune, with a bundle of leaves in his hand and a guilty look in his face.

“Isn’t eucalyptus toxic to humans and hybrids?”

“I’m not eating it!” Namjoon waves his hands in a frantic bid to assure you, eyes wide, and almost drops the leaves in question. His large, grey ears flick in his distress. “I was just… I know I can’t eat it but it smells so good… I was just sniffing it. It calms me.”

You let out a light laugh, walking closer and plopping down on the sand beside him, beneath the generous shade the tree offers. The sea breeze is kind and cools your skin where it smarts from the sun, tickling your neck and manipulating your hair into a tumbleweed. Namjoon snorts, helping you get it back in order.

“No judgement,” you say, crossing your legs and placing your book in your lap for the meantime. “Just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, because I do not know where to find one on this island.”

Namjoon grins, rosy cheeks complimenting his skin the way it glows gold in the sun’s glare. “You’d drag little ol’ me all the way to the hospital if you knew where it was?”

“Well, yeah,” you laugh, sifting sand through your fingers as you relish the sound of waves crashing barely a yard away. It’s so peaceful, you feel so at peace. “Since none of you seem to know what a car is.”

“We had a car,” Namjoon admits, face flushing violently as he averts his gaze, turning his head. “There was just, um, an unfortunate incident… that may have involved a tree, or two…”

You decide not to probe further, lest your current good impression of Namjoon come under threat. A beat of silence passes, before Namjoon shuffles, placing the bundle of leaves back on the grass. He angles his body a little more towards you, sniffing subtly.

“So… how is your stay so far? Is everything going okay?”

You can’t hide the expression of surprise that makes its way to your face as you turn to him, blinking. You don’t know what you were expecting, but for some reason it hadn’t been that. It’s awfully nice of him.

You’ve been on the island almost a week now. The interactions you’ve had with your housemates so far, though not too bountiful, have all been pleasant, and you genuinely have nothing to complain about. You haven’t seen much of Jungkook, Hoseok, or Yoongi—but that mostly comes down to incompatible work hours and commitments. Mr Bang’s nephews run the Rabbit’s Den, the local convenience store that occasionally hosts a few exotic goods, and they have been nothing short of helpful, polite, and friendly while you worked there. You have worked a single shift at the Resident Services Building too, and it was pretty chill. A few residents came in, happily introduced themselves to you, and then you helped them with whatever had warranted their visit. All in all, your stay has been amazing so far.

“It’s been good,” you say, and it feels so nice to have the words escaping your mouth be true to the warmth in your chest. “Everyone here is super nice. It does feel a bit odd though, sometimes I feel like I’m the only human here.”

“Oh, yeah. You are,” Namjoon huffs an amused laugh. “You’re the first human Mr Bang has allowed on this island.”

Your surprise is evident, and it makes him smile when he turns his head to give you a sly look. “He must have had a good feeling about you. Rabbit hybrids tend to rely a lot on their gut feelings and intuition.”

“Oh,” you say, cheeks warming. Well, you’re glad he had decided to let you in. You say as much to Namjoon, and he smiles brightly at you.

“We’re glad he decided to let you in, too.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, a little embarrassed from the unexpectedness of it—was he really telling the truth? You’d hardly spent any time with some of your other housemates…

A calm silence begins to settle between you, and you take the time to open your book and resume where you left off. You get so carried away reading that when you finally look up some time later, the sight to your side almost makes you gasp.

Namjoon had, at some point, fallen asleep in a little patch of sunlight that manage to pierce through the foliage—in the place of the large, long-limbed man you had been talking to is now a considerably smaller fluffy koala, sitting upright and snoozing lightly. You suspect this isn’t the most ideal position for him to be sleeping in, though, because every few moments he will sway on the spot, almost tipping but not quite going far enough to have an abrupt meeting with the sand.

You coo, unable to help it, but the sound quickly grows alarmed when he leans too far—before you can think your arms shoot out to hold him up, but it seems there is something true to what is said about koalas being clingy because the second he feels something touch him, koala Namjoon clings.

You squeak, a fully-grown koala now wrapped around your forearm. Slowly, you bring it closer to you (feeling your bicep burn all the while because damn is he heavier than he looks!), planning to use your other hand to ease him off, but it seems that the second you’re close enough he can sense your warmth and he wants in. You sit, exasperated and amused, with a koala now latched to your midriff, arm forgotten. Both your hands are now free, but at what cost?

You figure that he’ll probably let go when he wakes up, or he might fall back into the sand in his sleep, but until then you resign yourself to unexpected but definitely not unwelcome koala cuddles. You just hope he won’t be too embarrassed when he wakes up; you can already see him stuttering and going red in your mind’s eye. It brings a chuckle to your lips, and with a smile on your face you return to your book once more, a little more content than before.

O – O – O

 It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with the dreams.

Usually, once they start you can wake yourself up, or you can manage to turn them around if they’re one you’ve had before. But some nights, when the dreams come, you’re helpless but to see them play out. Sometimes they’re not that bad, but even the milder ones leave you with a nauseous ball of anxiety beneath your lungs and a feeling of discomfort that digs claws deep in your bones.

About three weeks into your stay, you wake up after one such dream, a cursory glance to your phone and the painful glare of its screen revealing it to be the early hours of the morning. For a moment you simply lay, blinking, with your gaze rooted on the ceiling. You had strung up some fairy lights around your dresser, and on the plaster above you the soft colourful rainbow of their hue meshes and blends with the cool pools of moonlight slipping through your curtains.

Absently, and with a sense of resignation that you feel in your bones, you strip the cover back and climb out of bed, deciding you may as well grab some water since you’re likely not going to be able to fall asleep very easily anytime soon.

As you make your way through the levels to the ground floor where the kitchen resides, you’re careful to be as quiet as possible—you’re not sure how successful your effort is but you do know that quite a few of your housemates have been inundated with coursework lately and you don’t want to disturb any of the valuable rest they need so badly. Jimin had looked so wiped out yesterday that you’d literally had to pull him away from the dishes and send him to bed. He complained on the way, but as soon as his head hit his pillow he was out, leaving you in a mixture of awe and concern. He explained as soon as he woke the next morning that he had been up all night completing an assignment, and it made you realise just how exhausted a lot of your roommates seem lately. You hope this period passes soon for them; you may not have been here long but you have grown to care for them and you don’t like seeing them so unwell.

You’re just pondering this when you reach the ground floor and venture into the kitchen, thoughts and feet coming to an abrupt stop as you take in the sight that greets you there.

Seokjin is standing by the bench, hands moving slowly as he puts something together just out of your view. A quick survey of the rest of the countertop tells you that he’s making lunches, and while ordinarily this would touch your heart (as it does every time you see how each of the hybrids in this house cares for each other), this time you’re overcome with a strong wave of concern.

Delicately put, Seokjin looks dead on his feet.

Every few moments his head bobs down, chin almost hitting his chest before he jerks awake just long enough to lift his head, before the cycle repeats once more. He looks so exhausted you’re impressed he managed to make as many lunches as he did. Though, from the looks of it he’s only about halfway through.

“Hey, Seokjin… are you okay?”

The hybrid jumps, the startle you gave him probably rendering him more awake than he has been in a few hours.

“Wh—what are you doing awake?” he sputters, having to lean against the bench so that he doesn’t fall over. “It’s almost midnight!”

You can’t help the look you give him, a mixture between amusement and concern. “Um… it’s a little past midnight actually… probably closer to two… are you alright?”

Seokjin blinks at you for a second while your words sink in, before he sags with a light groan, bringing a hand up to scrub at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleepiness. His bushy, striped tail sways behind him before curling around his thigh. “I’m just… kind of wiped out. I was up finishing a part of a really big assessment piece and it took longer than I thought… I was going to go to bed but then I remembered that I hadn’t prepared the boys’ lunches, and I always do that, so I came down here and…”

He makes a great, sweeping gesture over the mess on the bench, a result of his patchy attention. A huff of laughter escapes him. “Yeah.”

“I’m glad you finished your piece, but… do you really have to make their lunches? I think you should probably get some sleep…”

You were a little worried he might take your words the wrong way, but you can tell from the serene expression on his face that he doesn’t. “I always do it. If I don’t, then they might worry about me, and I don’t want them to worry about me when they should spend that energy worrying about themselves. Plus, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep if I knew they weren’t done.”

You return his amused smile, taking a step closer and willing yourself to speak the idea that had come to mind.

“Well, considering I found you almost sleeping on the spot when I came down, I think you should probably call it a night and get some rest. I’d be happy to finish up and make sure the lunches are done, if you’d like?”

You can see the resistance immediately, the tall man opening his mouth to refuse—but he halts, and for a moment slips into his own thoughts. Sensing that he just needs a little push, you continue, “If you tell me what you usually make, I should be able to finish the rest of them without too much trouble.”

He blinks, and in that moment you see the rest of his exhaustion flood to the surface. He sniffles, unable to fight the yawn that rises. “… Okay. If that’s really alright with you…?”

You laugh, reaching to bump Seokjin’s side. “Of course it is. I don’t mind at all, especially if it means you’ll go to sleep in your bed and not on the kitchen floor. Now, what do you normally make…?”

Letting out a soft laugh, Seokjin does his best to stay awake long enough to instruct you on what he makes and how he makes it for the remaining members of the household. You can’t help but notice throughout his explanation that he doesn’t seem to make lunch for himself despite making it for everyone else, and as he finally plods off to bed and passes out, you make the decision that you’re going to make some lunch for him too. It takes you a brief google search on the diet of red pandas and their hybrid counterparts, as well and recalling what you know of Seokjin’s taste in food, but it doesn’t take you too long to decide on what to make. You work through the lunches one by one, grateful for the distraction, and complete the task fully when Seokjin’s sits primly next to the rest. You pile them all into the fridge, washing your hands again before grabbing the water you originally came down for, and then you’re making the trip back upstairs to your own bed, a soft smile on your face and a warm satisfaction curling around your lungs. You fall asleep easier than expected for a night where you had one of those dreams, but there most definitely aren’t any complaints to be found as you drift off with a faint smile on your lips.

--

The next day, it’s only a little before midday when Seokjin finally rises from his slumber and makes his way downstairs. Blearily, he reaches the kitchen and heads straight to the fridge, attempting to think through his sleep-addled brain what he should make for lunch. Those thoughts are interrupted as he catches sight of a box he hasn’t seen outside of the little tupperware cupboard by the stove in ages sitting on the middle shelf, a little paper tag with ‘for Seokjin’ scribbled onto it perched on top.

He pulls it out and places it on the bench, staring in confusion. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to kick his limbs into gear and open it, but from that point on the realisation comes quickly with the memory of last night.

You’d gone and made lunch for him, too. And from the looks of it, you’d paid great attention to what to include.

His stomach rumbles violently as he takes in the sight of berries and the bamboo shoots he usually stores in the fridge that you must have taken the time to boil and season. There is a sandwich in there as well but he doesn’t need to check whether he will like it because he can already smell the salmon.

He doesn’t know what to think, or really what to say. He knows he’s just lucky you’ve already gone to work at the Rabbit’s Den because otherwise you would probably be here and risk seeing his eyes tear up a little.

A side effect from being sleepy and stressed is the dramatics, he knows, but still… he can’t help but notice the warm feeling that lingers in his stomach when he thinks of how nice you are to do such a thing.

O—O—O

“You’re gonna love it when we get there, y/n! It’s so pretty, and there’s so much fruit… I’m going to feast.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, thoroughly enjoying the company of your two housemates and the combination of cool breeze and warm sunlight the air offers as they kiss your skin. It’s earlier in the morning than you tend to wake up, but you’ve been invited out on an exclusive adventure and you aren’t in any position to say no. For the past few weeks you’ve noticed that on a Saturday and Sunday morning, Taehyung tends to disappear. You don’t know where, and each time you saw him again you forgot to ask, but finally the opportunity had arisen for you to sate your curiosity. Happily, the lemur hybrid had informed you that there is a small section of the island towards the north that is absolutely packed with trees, bushes and otherwise, all peppered with ripe fruit. Some days he goes to tend to them, but on the weekends he confessed to you that he normally goes to harvest the literal fruits of his labour.

“Just don’t eat all of the tamarind again, Jiminie, or I will have to kill you myself.”

Jimin lets out a loud laugh, stumbling in his gait for a moment from the force of it. “Yessir! Understood, sir!”

Taehyung’s lips quirk into a smile, and he returns his gaze to the front to continue marching ahead and leading the two of you to his secret spot. You adjust your hold on the woven bag over your shoulder, brushing away some of the more unruly strands of hair that have made their way across your face by riding on the breeze.

“Thanks again for inviting me, Tae,” you say, unable to hide the skip in your step as you plod along after them, smiling brightly. “I’ve been wanting to explore more—it feels wrong that I’ve been here for a month and barely seen everything there is to see.”

Taehyung spins to flash you a beaming grin over his shoulder, ears flicking and tail curling happily. “Of course, it’s no problem! I did wonder if you’d like to come some time, so I’m glad you mentioned it the other day.”

Jimin gasps, the sound somewhere between playful and affronted. “You asked her yourself to come?! I had to beg for weeks! Weeks!”

“I told you, the fruit weren’t done when you first asked!” Taehyung whines, reaching back and pausing in his steps just long enough to whack Jimin on the shoulder. “You just didn’t listen!”

“I’m baby,” Jimin says, whether in affirmation or explanation you’re not sure. It manages to tear a laugh from Taehyung either way, and you’re no different.

You’re not left stewing in anticipation for long; before you know it you’re broaching the place that Taehyung and Jimin speak so highly of. Rounding a corner, you come across a large grove that ends beyond what your eyes can see—some trees curl and wind, others stand straight and proud with their roots covered modestly with smaller shrubbery. Vines cling and string around some trunks, but the one thing all of the flora in front of you has in common is that they’re all ripe with fruit, ready to be picked.

“Oh wow,” you remark, barely aware you’ve even said anything. A deep laugh sounds from beside you and you turn to see Taehyung grinning brightly, tail curling happily behind him and his little ears flicking with glee.

“Pretty, right? Some of these were already growing here when I found it, like the apples, but the rest of it I planted over time. I’m proud of how it’s turned out.”

“You should be!” you exclaim, pointing to the fruit displayed in the very image of temptation before you all. “Dude, they look delicious.”

“They are!” Jimin chimes in, flitting past you and snagging his finger in your sleeve as he goes to drag you along. “Come on, there’s a mulberry tree up the back and it has the juiciest berries. We have to pick them now before all the birds and fruit bats get them.”

Laughing, you allow the sugar glider hybrid to lead you into the grove of greenery, the man ducking and weaving around branches with ease as his feet follow a path well-worn into the dirt and grass. The splotches of sunlight that filter through the foliage are pleasant where they warm your skin, breeze ensuring you don’t get too hot beneath the kiss of a star. In the shadows of the trees, it is actually much cooler than you expected, but you can’t help but feel that the temperature, the air, the sights—everything feels perfect.

The mulberry tree, fondly called Ol’ Bessy as Jimin had eagerly informed you, is a large, looming monster of a tree with a plethora of winding trunks and subordinate thin branches that dangle and sway in the breeze in the image of a weeping willow. When you comment on the sheer size of it, Taehyung simply shrugs and tells you with a smile that it’s been here a long time, before anyone was on the island.

The three of you don't have much desire to waste any more time standing and dawdling, and so you begin your activity for the day, woven bags and baskets prepared and at the ready. You inspect the mulberries that are hanging lowest, spying the occasional green one but becoming easily appeased when you find bunches of ripe ones, plump and fit to burst as they weigh the thinner branches down.

Gathering them is harder than anticipated, because you hadn't accounted for the fact they they're, well, berries. It takes a few attempts and more than a few instances of stained hands before you figure out the best way to pluck them from the tree without bursting them. Taehyung saw the first one you popped and the way it went all up your arm, and hasn't stopped laughing since.

The three of you bounce between fruits and trees, filling your containers with whichever you prefer. After a while though you all seem to have the same idea to congregate at the mulberry tree. Admittedly, you hadn't been able to stop yourself from munching on some of the fruits as you picked them, but as you look at them and see berry stains around their mouths and apple leaves in their hair, you feel a little less guilty about it. Taehyung places his basket down, leaning it securely against the base of the tree trunk, before dusting his hands with a sharp clap and then resting them on his hips.

"Right," he says, eyes alight. "There's just one more tree to visit. I think you're gonna love it."

You tilt your head, wondering just what other kind of fruit he has up his sleeve when already you've picked so many. Surely he's constrained even a little bit by the climate? Or does he have magically green thumbs? Jimin giggles at your confused expression.

"How good are you at climbing trees?"

The question gives you pause. "Uh... decent? I suppose?"

"Great!" Taehyung exclaims, picking his basket back up and closing the lid to help secure it on his back. "Let's go!"

Once more you're lead in between and through the trees and shrubs, following the gleeful lemur hybrid and his grinning companion back to the middle of the grove. Before long you're stumbling to a halt, having reached the location and wondering how on earth you managed to miss this tree before.

It's bigger than Ol' Bessy by a decent margin, but confusion filters through you when you can't seem to spot any fruit hanging from its branches. You turn to Taehyung, about to question him, but he simply grins and darts over to the massive trunk (really, you don't think two of you could hug it from either side and have your fingers touch, it's so big). It's only after he begins scaling it with alarming ease that you take note of the grooves and footholds curled into the trunk, making it a naturally perfect tree for climbing. Jimin darts up after his friend, apparently also well-versed in the art of climbing this tree, and breaks you from your awed reverie with a shout over his shoulder.

"Come on, y/n! Or Tae is gonna take the good spot!"

Unsure what he means and unsure if you're willing to find out via Taehyung following through on that, you scramble to follow after them and do your best to climb.

It's easier than anticipated, actually, and dare you say it... relaxing. Though you're going higher and higher with each branch you clear, and see less of the ground and more of the canopy with each step, you can't say you're all that scared, or worried. If anything, it's as though a moment of peace has been captured in a bubble, and now settles like cool mist on a spring morning at the bottom of your chest.

In sharp contrast to the cool breeze that brushes your face as you emerge from the thickest part of the foliage, the sun is quick to kiss warmth back into your cheeks. For a moment, you have to pause in your climb, because the view around you is simply so beautiful you're at an absolute loss for words.

From here, the highest point in the grove, you can see a vast majority of the island, a sweeping panorama of lush greens and soft sands that blend into the crystalline waters of the ocean, sunlight turning the surface to a sea of diamonds. Along the stretch of beach, in the distance, you can just barely glimpse the sharehouse, and on the other side of the island the little market square where all the stores and restaurants are appears as smudges and blobs of dark colours.

"It's so beautiful, right?"

You're so immersed in your observation that for a second you almost don't even register that someone is talking to you. Mouth open in awe, you simply turn your expression to Taehyung; the lemur laughs, almost tumbling back from the force of it, and you're shocked back into the moment with worry until you see what stopped him from falling.

Here, at the very top of the tallest tree in Taehyung's secret grove, he has built a small little fixture, a deck with enough space for four people to squeeze onto it at most. It hugs the trunk of the tree and is braced on the few thick branches that split from the tree beneath it. A lot of it is untouched, natural wood, but the bottom is made of processed planks and some of the short balcony ledge has been painted with acrylics, little scenes spanning the length of the strips. You didn't know Taehyung painted, but figure you'll bring it up at another time when you aren't precariously clinging to the top of a massive tree.

Taking the hand that both men offer you, you haul yourself carefully up and onto the deck, marvelling as you get an even clearer view of the island from your new position.

"It really is," you answer him, somewhat belatedly. When the two of them settle down, tree swaying much like you imagine a ship would on the vast expanse of the ocean, you follow suit, with your back pressed securely to the trunk.

Jimin is already flinging open his container, smacking it onto the wood in front of him, and Taehyung laughs once more, the sound so freeing and light that it makes that little bubble of peace in your abdomen expand ever so slightly.

"And now, we feast!" The lemur says, eagerly opening his own basket and setting it in front of him, besides Jimin's. They're both set to overflow from the amount of fresh, ripe fruit piled in.

They shamelessly and unabashedly dig in, eliciting a laugh from you as you move your own bag before you to do the same. It's nice, the perfect lunch in more ways than one; the small amount of foliage above you offers just enough shade that you want for nothing more in the moment besides maybe a pillow or two, everything else accounted for in excess.

You're not sure how long you spend there, but you do know that the sun has made a decent amount of headway in its journey across the sky by the time the three of you are done stuffing your stomachs full, laying across the deck and squinting until the clouds swimming leisurely across the sky begin to resemble something you can put a name to. It's fun, and light, and for what is alarmingly far from the first time, you find yourself so thankful for the choices you made and the path that led you here, to be staying on this beautiful island with these lovely boys.

By time you finish and the three of you are heading back, you’ve eaten through half of the fruit and the boys are so full and sleepy from the big day that they’ve shifted into their animal forms and are now clinging to you, Taehyung with his long limbs around your neck and Jimin with his tiny paws clinging to the hair at the top of your head. You suspect he’s made himself another little nest up there, but can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him for it especially when the soft sounds and chitters he makes to communicate with Taehyung are so damn cute.

The trip back is shorter than you recall, and before you know it you’re approaching the sharehouse once more, it’s looming sides graced with the warm gleam of afternoon sun. Jimin and Taehyung are asleep as you reach the front door, and you’re saved from having to move all the bags and baskets in your hold to open the door when it opens for you. Hoseok is standing there, a startled look gracing his features that quickly blends into one of fondness as he sees his friends, something that makes your cheeks warm ever so slightly.

“Good day?” he asks, stepping back to let you in. You nod, unable to help the wide grin touching your lips.

“Yeah, it was.”

O – O – O

‘…They should be setting up a tower soon, so hopefully it won’t be long before I can call you again. But until then, I look forward to every letter you send, bubbles.

Write back soon! I miss you.

Love, Dad’

You sniffle, trying not to let out the tears that are so close to slipping from your eyes. You’re not all that upset, you love receiving letters from your father, but it’s just… a little bittersweet. You’d moved here to escape your family, following a certain incident that you’re not keen to revisit, and your father had always been and will always be supportive of you— but it’s hard, when he’s halfway across the globe on one expedition or another.

It was only in the past ten years that your father managed to snag the job of his dreams and follow the passion he’s harboured since he was a child, graduating from his career as an accountant through attention garnered from numerous big research papers to become a well-respected biologist. From the second he accepted the offer, he’d started down a path that led him spending a majority of his life outside of the home and always on the move, hopping from one destination to another.

Whenever he could, he’d take you with him, but he wasn’t always able to. This expedition, which has landed him in the Antarctic, is an example of that. While he can’t be with you physically, he writes often and calls every chance he gets—and though it saddens you sometimes when it highlights the dismal state of the rest of your family, more than anything you’re happy for him and overjoyed that after years of slaving in an office, he finally gets to do what he wants.

You inhale, closing your eyes and trying to let the breath escape in a long, level manner. It’s night, not when you normally go about reading letters from your father but this letter had come late and you’d almost completely forgotten on your way to bed. Taking the opportunity to get some fresh air, you’d taken the letter and made yourself comfortable on the balcony, using the ample moonlight as a makeshift reading lamp.

Placing the letter carefully on the table, mindful not to place it in anything dirty or unsavoury, you settle back in your chair and tilt your gaze to the skies, allowing your eyes to become unfocused and simply stare. It's a pretty sight, as you expected-- the stars are much more outgoing here, with no haze or pollution masking their display like in the city on the mainland.

You let out a breath, but even to your ears it sounds more like a sigh. You miss your dad, and you know he misses you too but despite the fact you know it's selfish of you, you kind of wish he had been here with you when you made the decision to move. Of course, you've told him all about it, and he's supported you wholly in every choice you've made, but it's not the same. You don't blame him, and you love him dearly, but still... you're allowed to be sad, just a little. Just for tonight.

Well, that had been your plan-- apparently the universe has other ideas that don't include sulking in the moonlight on your balcony. A scuffling sound disturbs your reverie from the side of your balcony, and you look over in time to see a decent blob of shadow scaling up the side of the balcony next to yours and flinging onto the railing. Once there, it halts, and your eyes adjust just in time to meet those of the creature-- the raccoon, you realise quickly. It tilts its head up, sniffling the air once, before pinning you with an unreadable look. For a moment the two of you sit in silence, locked in place by the other's gaze, before the raccoon lets out a soft noise and then it's little claws are clacking against the hollow metal railing, and it disappears beyond the wall.

Whose room is that... Jungkook's? You muse to yourself for a moment before you remember what kind of hybrid Jungkook is, and in the next second there is the sound of a door sliding shut and Jungkook's bright-eyed face pops around the side of the wall.

"Uh... are you okay?"

You blink, brain taking a moment to catch up and then decipher how he could have possibly known you were even a little bit upset. You recall suddenly that animals can pick up cues, like chemoreceptors, and tilt your head at him with a small smile.

"Yeah... no... I'm alright." You angle yourself more towards him in your chair, cheering internally when you see him stop hiding behind the wall and come to lean against the railing. "Was that you? Where were you off to, this time of night?"

Jungkook looks like he wishes to address the first thing you said, but your follow-up has thrown him a bit for a loop. You can't be sure your eyes aren't deceiving you, but you could almost swear he's blushing.

"Oh, yeah... sorry." He reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck, hair mussed and eyes averted. "I know my animal form isn't that nice... sorry if you thought it was gross."

"What?!"

At the sheer suddenness and volume of your almost-shriek, Jungkook jumps about a foot in the air. His wide eyes swing back to you, chest heaving as he rests his hand in the centre of it. You clear your throat, shrinking a bit in embarrassment.

"Sorry," you wince, before going to elaborate on your earlier squawk. "But please don't ever apologise for something like that! I don't know who told you that your animal form is gross, but they can't be all that bright... it was cute."

He looks more like a deer in headlights than the animal he's spliced with right now, eyes wide and staring right at you. You can't help but laugh and tease him, just a little. "Cutest raccoon I ever did see, anyway."

He suddenly comes back to earth, slamming his face into his hands and letting out a long groan. It's from embarrassment, you can tell from the flashes of reddened skin that peek through his fingers. You don't say anything for a moment, letting him return to the conversation on his own terms. Jungkook might be one of the housemates you've interacted with least, but you've heard plenty from the rest of the hybrids in the house.

More often than not, it's about how shy he is and how cute it is when he gets embarrassed. You'd simply nodded and laughed at the time, but now you realise there truly is merit to everything they said.

It takes a few moments of Jungkook muttering into his hands before he pulls his face away, averting his eyes and mumbling softly, "... Thanks. That's really nice of you to say."

"You're welcome," you shrug, smiling when he risks a glance your way to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing nothing that will make him turn tail and flee back into the safety of his room, he eases up, returning his body to it's previous angle towards you.

"So... why were you upset?"

Surprisingly, his question doesn't bother you as you thought it might. You hum, watching as his gaze follows yours to the table, where the letter and the envelope it came in, addressed to you, lay discarded.

"Letter from my dad," you offer in explanation, watching his eyes light in realisation. "Nothing bad, I just miss him so it's... bittersweet."

Jungkook hums, nodding and resting his chin in his hand as he leans forward. "I understand. It's like that with my parents. I know they love me, and I love them, but they're pretty far away and I just... miss them. They're always working."

You're a little surprised that he can relate, although you suppose you really shouldn't be. You don't know very much about Jungkook at all, so it's not fair of you to assume anything about him, even in relation to your own experiences.

"Yeah," you sigh, looking to the sky for a moment as you try and organise your thoughts. "I'm happy he is where he is, doing what he's doing, but I think it's okay to be sad, just for tonight."

Jungkook hums, but doesn't say anything further. It surprises you when he speaks next, the two of you having fallen into a lull.

"Well, you could keep being sad for the night if you want, or... would you maybe wanna see the film I've been working on?"

Your head whips to face him faster than the speed of light, startling him into another jump on the spot.

"Really?" you ask, hurried as though the offer will be rescinded at any moment. "You mean it? I can see it?"

"Yes...?" Jungkook answers, somewhat bewildered. You launch from your chair immediately, rubbing your hands together-- you've heard really good things from the others about his talents in photography and editing, so you've been trying to figure out a way to slip it into conversation for weeks. You've wanted to see them for yourself so badly.

"I'm coming over," you announce, gathering the letter and envelope and already beginning to move towards your room. "I hope your room is clean, Jungkook, or else I'm gonna tease you!"

You'd just meant it as a joke, but the scrambling and hurried footsteps you hear after you say it make you think he took you seriously.

Well, you dad would probably want you to spend the night happy, anyway. You can save being sad for another night.

O -- O -- O

Your time at the house has gone by much faster than you anticipated, and while initially you'd thought that you wouldn't be able to wait to get out, now you find yourself feeling quite the opposite.

You kind of don't want to leave.

At this point, about two months into your stay, you've settled into such a comfortable, stable routine that you struggle to imagine going through the motions in any other way. Often after your early shifts you'll return to the house and catch someone lounging in the sun, and you will no doubt be roped into a short, sweet afternoon nap. On the weekends is group breakfast, and you make sure that you go to bed as early as possible the nights before so that you don't miss it. Taehyung drags you with him of a weekend to fetch fruit and Jimin drags you around the town in general. Some evenings, you find yourself accompanying Namjoon on a walk along the beach, both of you feeling more at peace than ever before when you're standing with feet buried in the sand, watching dusk bleed into twilight and the colours around you stain violet and periwrinkle in the absence of the sun's kiss.

Jungkook knocks on your door at late hours, grinning and eagerly summoning you to his room to watch his latest creation. Seokjin no longer resists your help every other night to make lunches, and has started including you in the schedule as well.

Yoongi and Hoseok are among the busier residents of the house, but you've still spent bits of time with each of them, probably moreso with Hoseok. It's not that you avoid Yoongi or anything like that, it's just that he happens to be the most busy and more often than not is holed up in his room. You don't always see him throughout the week, but he always attends house breakfast on weekends and you're thankful that you get to see him then.

Today, you're spending a little more time with Hoseok. Your shift ended early and you couldn't have thanked your lucky stars any harder, because today the squirrel hybrid had invited you to his dance class. Usually Jungkook or Jimin went with him, both of them enjoying dance as much as their older housemate, but they had both been unavailable today. You'd seen the way Hoseok's face had fallen when they'd told him, and had immediately asked about the class-- you didn't even talk for more than a few minutes before Hoseok was happily inviting you to attend.

It made you a little more pleased than you're going to admit.

You're on your way there now, actually, a skip in your step and a swing in your gait. You've got the tote bag you hold your work things in, and you can hear the rustling of the nuts you'd shoved in there last minute earlier in the day. You'd noticed that Hoseok had forgotten them, so you'd grabbed them to give to him when you saw him. Hopefully he hasn't stuffed himself too full of other foods in the meantime, though from what you've heard apparently he's such a workaholic that he probably hasn't even had lunch yet despite the fact it's currently three in the afternoon.

A majority of Hoseok's classes take place at the school where he teaches, in a room at the end of the drama block that often doubles as a dance classroom when the school gets the funding for it. When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar and upbeat pop is leaking through the gap, Hoseok's sunny voice piercing through the music like a pendulum.

"--and one, two, three, one, two, three-- that's it! That's fantastic! Really good job, guys!"

A smile is already on your face as you push the door open enough to let yourself in, gaze immediately falling upon a group of grinning children that are looking up at Hoseok like they're a tiny field of sunflowers facing their namesake. Hoseok stands before them in a borderline comical pose that only primary school teachers can really pull off, hands on his hips and a proud, beaming smile on his face. You can’t help but blink because for a moment it really was as blinding as looking directly at the sun. He spots you before you can recover fully, and greets you with a wave.

“Ah, perfect! Everyone, this is Miss y/n! She’s going to be sitting in today—I told her how good you all were and she couldn’t wait to see for herself. Let’s all say hello!”

A chorus of greetings is immediately thrown at you, the attention of the little sunflowers now completely on you. Some gasp and run over, grinning brightly at the novelty of a new character, and others watch from afar but seem pleased nonetheless by your presence and alleged eagerness to see them perform.

Before they can launch into conversation with you like you can so clearly see they want to, the ears of some kids ramrod straight and alert and others’ tails flicking in excitement, Hoseok calls them back to where he stands and to your surprise they obey immediately.

“Alright, let’s let Miss y/n get settled down and we can show her what we’ve been practicing, hm? Sound good?”

There is a chorus of ‘yes!’ that pulls a laugh from you as you make your way to the side of the room with the best view and plop down, cross-legged. Eagerly and very self-consciously, now that they have an audience, the small army of children runs to take their place in the formation, and Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket to pause the song currently playing and pull up the one that matches their routine.

The opening notes filter into the air and Hoseok nods, foot tapping to the beat, before he counts them in and off they go.

Put simply, you’re so incredibly impressed. These kids can dance! You don’t have a doubt that they can dance better than you, not that you ever claimed to have much talent in that department. By the time they finish running through their little routine, you’re clapping and cheering loudly, relishing in the laughter that you’re exaggerated reaction elicits. Hoseok, too, is smiling as he sees how you interact with his students, wandering over after he takes them through it a few more times before giving them a small break.

"So, what do you think?" he asks as he approaches your side of the room, slightly out of breath from doing the routine with them the last few times. "They're so good, aren't they? They've only been working on this for a few weeks and already they have it almost perfectly down-pat. I'm so proud of them."

He slides down the wall next to you, reaching for the bag he'd dropped there presumably before class began; across the room all the students are reaching into their class backpacks for their afternoon snack, and it seems Hoseok has the same idea. You don't even remember the nuts in your bag until he rifles through his for a few minutes, brows furrowed when he comes up empty. His bushy tail flicks dejectedly, ears twitching back on his head, and he pouts.

"Damn, I think I forgot my lunch this morning," he says, and it's enough to jog your memory. You jump in place from the startle of it.

"Oh, I saw that! Here," you quickly reach into your own bag and pull out the nuts and dried fruits, passing it over to him. "I brought it for you, since I figured you'd probably want it at some point."

The way Hoseok's eyes light up when they see the little plastic bag in your hand is almost enough to make you laugh and/or coo out loud. By the skin of your teeth you barely manage to hold that reaction back, but you do smile as he cheers with a short, happy scream and eagerly takes it from your grip.

"My nuts!" Hoseok wastes no time ripping the bag open and grabbing a handful, setting about munching immediately. "You have saved my life today, Miss y/n. I was soooo hungry."

"Didn't get lunch?" you guess, already knowing the answer and having it confirmed when Hoseok nods, completely unfazed by the fact he'd skipped a meal or two.

"I was helping one of the students," he explains, munching happily. His bushy tails curls in content behind him, a sight that makes something happy and warm settle in your chest. "I don't mind missing lunch if it means they get the help they need. I do feel it afterwards, though. Sometimes when I get home I feel so hungry I could eat the whole cupboard out."

A laugh tears from you at his words, the image even funnier because he didn't specify whether he would be doing it in his human form or his animal form. The image of a squirrel wreaking havoc in the house pantry is funnier than you care to admit, but Hoseok just seems happy to have elicited a laugh no matter the magnitude.

It's just a small thing, spending the afternoon with Hoseok and his students, but you find afterwards that it was almost... healing. On the way home, walking besides Hoseok and discussing which dried fruit were the superior dried fruit (he's wrong, and you'll take that opinion with you to the grave), you can't help but feel so light and happy. Like everything is in place, in motion and flowing smoothly. A river without debris and jagged rocks; life right now feels like that moment in nature when water runs over smooth pebbles in a creek, tumbling and pouring but doing so without chaos, and without mess or fallout. Just one continuous, fluid motion.

It feels nice.

You don't even realise until you're laying in bed that night that for a while now, that's how you've been referring to this place.

As home.

O -- O -- O

Aside from the occasional uncomfortable dream, these past few months have been remarkably incident-free, where it concerns the unfortunate topic of your extended family. You'd changed a lot of things when you'd made the decision to move to this island; your phone number, your email addresses and all your passwords, your social media... all of it had been combed through and either switched out or slimmed down. This place is an escape, a place of refuge for you, and that's how you want it to stay.

Unfortunately, the universe isn't always on your side.

It's a rainy afternoon when you receive the call, and you're so fixated on watching the way the rain falls in thin sheets over the ocean that at first from the first floor patio, that you miss it. They don't call again, but a message sets your phone off a minute or so later, and that catches your attention.

Of course, the second you read it and see who it's from, it does more than just catch your attention.

You're not someone prone to many episodes, and you've become adept at self-soothing. But as your eyes begin to stare unfocused at the message and you feel your chest constrict, diaphragm pushing against your lungs, you realise distantly that this is more than you just being momentarily overwhelmed.

You get a bit lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of light-headedness that suddenly washes over you, so much so that when a voice sounds distantly, muffled as though you're listening to someone speak to you from the depths of a pool, you barely even register it at first.

"Hey, y/n, have you seen--"

Still, your eyes are stuck on the message; you don't even notice the way your fingers had begun to tremble while holding the phone until a hand brushes your arm, a figure in front of you blocking the light from beyond the porch.

"y/n, hey, are you.... look at me. y/n, look at me."

Oh, that's a voice, and you do as it says without even a single thought flitting through your head. Looking up, you're barely even as surprised as you should be to see Yoongi standing there, a look of concern spread across his features, brows drawn together as he regards you. You feel a warm touch against your hand, phone tugged from your grip to be replaced with his own. Both your hands are now in his hold and he uses it to ground you, even if just for a moment.

"Can you do me a favour?" Yoongi says, and his voice is so soft and soothing that you find yourself listening as attentively as you can right now. "I need you to breathe with me. I'm gonna count ten breaths, okay? Let's do the first one-- in..."

He inhales deeply, his whole chest moving from the magnitude of it, and you feel as though you're floating in your own head in the moment as you follow suit. Slowly, patiently, he takes you through each breath one at a time, making sure you inhale as big as he does and exhale as long as he does. By the time you reach ten, the light-headed feeling has faded and the constriction in your chest has eased, ever so slightly. As soon as you finish your tenth breath you sag slightly, letting out a gush of air.

"Sorry," you say, slipping one of your hands from his grip to cover your face. "Sorry, I just--"

To your complete and utter surprise, Yoongi's hand lets your other one go and in the next moment you feel arms slipping around your shoulders, bringing you close to his chest and letting your face rest on his shoulder. You see his fluffy tail from where your face is squished, catching glimpses over his shoulder of the way it curls calmly.

Once the moment of shock passes, you're unable to help yourself but to return the embrace, surprised by how much you needed this without even knowing so.

"It's okay, don't apologise," Yoongi says, voice still soft and calm. You sag against him, and your eyes burn not from the message that triggered your almost anxiety-attack, but from the sheer kindness you feel emanating from this man. "Happens to the best of us. Are you feeling a little better?"

You nod, because oddly enough you are, and he slowly releases his hold on you, easing back with an assessing look. Another apology rests on the tip of your tongue but you bite it back, knowing he would refuse it if it ever entered the air.

“I am. Thanks,” you say, eyes looking for your phone as you realise suddenly that it is no longer in your hand where you’d left it. Yoongi holds it up, handing it back easily; his gaze passes over the screen as he does so, and the look he gives you is one of empathy and knowing.

“Shitty family?” he inquires, and you nod, choosing not to look at your phone and to slip it straight into your pocket instead. You go to sit against the wall, facing the edge of the patio, and he joins you.

“I get it,” he says, lifting a hand to fluff up his grey-tinted hair before shifting his gaze out to the rain and its reunion with the ocean. “’Part from my parents, the rest of my… relatives… they’re, uh… they’re not so nice. Didn’t treat me all that well, or even my parents for that matter. So… I get it. You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t wanna, but I get it.”

You don’t really know what to say to that; not that you’re speechless, per se, but moreso that there is simply so much going through your head at once that you can’t seem to settle on anything to voice.

“Thank you,” you say again, sniffling as subtly as you can as you focus on evening your breaths and calming your heart. You feel something on your hand and look over to see Yoongi has placed his palm over your own, his face soft and comforting.

“It’s no problem.”

A different kind of ache, the sort that is tinged around the edges with bittersweet warmth, begins to make itself known amongst the turmoil in your abdomen, and in this moment you can’t quite decipher whether it’s a good feeling or a bad one. What you do know, though, is that you’ve never been more thankful to have had the fortune of meeting these boys and having them make room in their hearts for you, even just a little, than you are right now.

O – O – O

You can’t believe that all the time you’ve spent here has gone so fast, and that currently there is no more than a week before your three month deadline is up and your contracted stay at this house is to come to an end.

If you’re being honest with yourself… you don’t want to go.

When you’d first come to this house, you’d expected that you would have a nice time, but also that you would be eager to move out by the end of the three month period. You had no way of knowing how well you’d fall into routine here, how attached you would become not only to the residents but to the home, the place and the feeling it offers and the way it allows you to feel happier than you have in years.

You know that you have to leave, they’d only agreed to house you for the three months after all, and you also know that they seem to have realised your time here is coming to an end as well. You’ve caught them talking amongst themselves a few times, not quite whispering but definitely conversing about something that halts as soon as they catch wind of you anywhere nearby. You get the sense that they’re unsure how to approach the topic, and you understand since it’s a bit tough for you yourself. You decide to bite the bullet and do it for them, though.

You ask them to meet you in the living area, a week before you leave, to talk. You wanted to just… officially thank them, you suppose. They’ve done a lot for you, in the time you’ve been here, whether they realise it or not. They’ve helped you settle, they’ve shown you that there really is more to life outside the misery your relatives tended to create, and they’ve ensured every second you’ve been with them that you have felt welcomed, and included.

Truthfully, it means more to you than you know how to put into words.

Which is why it’s especially difficult for you to accept that you have to leave.

The expressions on their faces as they gather are a mixture between curious and somewhat apprehensive, with Namjoon, Jungkook and Hoseok bordering on nervous. You wonder why before realising they might not know why you called them here.

“Hey, thanks for gathering,” you say, attempting to keep it light and ensure the smile stays on your face. Of course, they all return is as they take seats across the room, some on the couch and others on the coffee table or the floor. Taehyung’s head tilts, tail curling lightly behind him.

“Um, I just wanted to say something to you—to all of you, while I could. I didn’t think I’d be able to catch everyone in the one room any time but on the weekend,” you muse, smile widening at the round of light laughter your joke elicits. You shift, taking a breath and grounding yourself through the motion of meeting their gazes, one by one.

“I wanted to say thank you,” you begin, voice softer than intended but not so soft that you’re worried their senses won’t pick it up. “Because when I moved here it was to get away, and start anew, and you guys… really gave me that. You’ve made these three months the best and happiest months I’ve had in a long time. I’m so thankful that you let me in, and welcomed me into your home and even into your lives. I don’t think I can word this the way I want to but… really. Thank you, so much. I know I have to leave in a week, but—”

“Oh!”

You halt mid-spiel, wide eyes moving to Taehyung as he suddenly sits up, holding his hands out. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to us about—we actually wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

Freezing, you simply blink, mind coming up blank as to what they could possibly want to talk to you about. Namjoon clears his throat when no one else follows up after Taehyung, averting his eyes before he gathers himself and meeting your confused look. “Well, you probably noticed we’ve been talking amongst ourselves a lot lately—I mean, I know you’ve noticed because you’ve walked in on us a few times, and we’re not very good at being subtle, but—”

“We want to know if you’d like to stay here—permanently.” Taehyung cuts his friend off before he can finish, apparently no longer able to hold the question at bay. There is an expression of pure, unguarded sincerity on his face, excitement lighting in his eyes. “We all talked it out and found that we want you to stay—all of us.”

“You fit,” Yoongi says suddenly, voice still soft but loud enough for you to catch easily. He offers you a gentle smile when you look his way. “We know that if you left, the house wouldn’t be the same after… it would be missing something. You haven’t been here long, but you’re kind of already part of our family so… please don’t go, if you don’t want to.”

Some of the others are pinning Yoongi with a surprised look that you suspect is not directed at what he said, but rather the fact that he said it. You’re too busy biting your lip and trying not to cry like a baby to notice all that much.

“Is that really okay?” you ask, déjà vu washing over you as you think to yourself that again, this sounds too good to be true. “Do you guys really want me to stay?”

Immediately, there is a mixture of nods and loud ‘Yes!’s and ‘Of course!’. You really can’t hold it back, you find, because the sudden flood of warmth and affection washing over your insides is more than you know how to handle. You sniff, unable to reach the tears fast enough to prevent their fall down your face.

“Will you stay?” Yoongi asks, head tilted. Regrettably, his tenderness makes more tears fall.

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping your face furiously, “Yeah, I will. Thank you.”

And that’s all the confirmation you need before your new family is tackling you one by one, replacing your sobs with laughter and making sure you know that from now on, you don’t have to cry alone, you don’t have to be sad alone. They’re here for you.

And it feels so, so nice.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think and how it made u feel, and let me know u enjoyed it by liking and reblogging! feel free to even just send me an ask screaming! thank u! i love u !

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