#anything that involves his child crying is an emergency

[ryllen]

thank you for working hard x

#he deserves a big cold milkshake #twst #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #twst yuu #twst mc #twst baby #fanart #yes he had to use his unique magic it was an emergency he insisted #his daughter was crying #anything that involves his child crying is an emergency

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A FRESH START [22]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: panic attack, trauma reaction, mentions of injuries, nonsexual nudity

Word Count: 5,935

Updates every Thursday

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i was forced to shorten the taglist for the sake of my sanity. tumblr won't let me post with more than certain number. I think that's why I've had the hardest time with this shit. I made it a first come, first served so if your username got dropped I am so so so sorry but that's why.]

#22: LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

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"i find my place in between your arms, in between your tender kisses and soft whispers of 'it will be alright', in between the warmth of your embrace, and the scent of your neck, and the fierceness of your touch, i find my place lost inside your soul." -Hearts and Empires

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Din was immensely proud of your skills as a physician. However, if you didn’t get your ass out of the damn medic tent he was going to throw you over his shoulder and carry you home forcibly. More than anything, you needed rest. He wasn’t able to convince you to stop working and because the medical aid had yet to arrive no one else sided with him on these matters. Karga had the nerve to tell him to calm down. Din had nearly wrung the High Magistrate’s neck. 

He watched as you flittered around the medical tent aiding those who were injured alongside Aayla. Grogu had refused to leave your side, and that didn’t seem to bother you at all. Right now, as if you weren’t exhausted and barely standing, you had a sling wrapped around your chest which held Grogu against your back. Din could see the little boy resting his head against your back while rubbing your shoulder with his small hand. The sight warmed his heart and Din would be tempted to snap a picture to save if it weren’t for the state of your being. Your scrubs were still stained with blood and you had yet to clean your own wounds. It was stressing Din out to watch you working so hard when you were still in the state you were in.

While turning to see someone else, Din noticed you wavering on your feet. That was enough. He pushed forward and pressed through the injured crowd straight to you. “Hey.” You turned to meet his gaze. “It’s time to go home. You’re barely able to stand.”

“I can’t⏤”

“Ner kar’ta.” Din said firmly.

You sighed. “Alright. Fine.” Your shoulders sagged. “I guess I am a little tired.” Din shook his head, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips. Your small smile turned sheepish and Din dreaded whatever it was you were going to say next. “I need to make sure Nima has cleared the tarmac though so the medical team can park.”

“What?”

“We need to get⏤”

Din reached his gloved hands out to cup your face. At the contact, the rest of your words fell away. He leaned forward and spoke firmly. “We’re going home. You need to rest. Somebody⏤ Anybody else can do the rest of the work here.” He let his thumb trace your cheekbone. Din wished he could feel your skin against his. “Have you managed all the emergency cases?”

“I mean, yeah, but⏤”

“Then it’s time to take care of yourself.” Din finished.

Your lips pressed together and gave him a small nod. Din let out a breath of relief. Without wasting another moment, Din slipped his hand into yours and began to drag you away before someone could distract you with a new job. Just having your hand in his was a comfort he couldn’t even begin to describe. During his travels, he imagined what his reunion with you would look like often. Never did he imagine karking pirates would be involved, but this feeling in his chest he had anticipated. He knew being back by your side would feel like coming home. In fact, he may have underestimated how strongly the reunion would make him feel⏤ which was quite the feat considering how badly he craved it.

Din stepped into the shared home and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Frog. Frog.” Grogu chirped. He turned in time to see you untangling the boy from the sling to set on the ground. Grogu bounded further into the room probably to look for his stuffed toy. 

Din focused back on you and his heart ached at the exhaustion painted on your face. Not wasting another moment, Din ripped off his gloves, tossing them aside, and reached out to cup your face. You let out a shuddering breath when his skin came in contact with his and Din felt that last tinge of stress leave his body. You were safe. It felt more real like this. 

“Are you still allowed to take this off to kiss me?” You asked. Din couldn’t tell if your quiet voice came from a meekness or just the weariness of your last 24 hours. 

“Yes.” Din chuckled. “We just need to be more careful.”

Technically speaking, it would be best if he didn’t take his helmet off anymore. Having you close your eyes was not the most ideal of plans. Accidents could happen, and more than anything it was just a loophole in his Creed. However, Din would give up vital organs before he gave up the gift and honor that was kissing you. 

You closed your eyes and Din lifted one of his hands so he could lightly trace your bruised and dirty features. He hummed, “You’re injured and tired. We should take care of that first.”

“Literally nothing is more important to me right now than this.” You replied.

Din hardly needed further convincing. Removing his hands from your face had been painful⏤ even knowing that it was only for a moment so he could take his helmet off. Without the barrier between you and him, your injuries looked worse. The dark coloring of the bruising and the red of the blood was so much more prominent. Din could see bags under your eyes he hadn’t noticed before. With a quiet sigh, Din cupped your face once more.

“Ni ceta.” Din mumbled soft apologies. He leaned in to press his lips first against your left eyelid then your right. He continued to pepper soft kisses across your cheek until they found your lips. Din would be a liar if he said he hadn’t spent every single night while gone imagining what your lips would feel like on his return. And, just as with the reunion, his mental image did not do the moment justice. Din had pictured passion and heat, a battle between one another to devour the other first, but this kiss was not that.

This kiss was soft, tender, and patient.

Three things that Din never got to call his own, living a life of battle in armor of Beskar.

Your lower lip was slotted between both of his and as he gave it a gentle tug you released a shaky sigh. The sound struck him like a hot iron and Din couldn’t help but breathe you in. He pulled you closer so your body was flush with his, let the tip of his tongue trace the shape of your lip, as he deepened the kiss. Din allowed desperation to seep into his very touch. It couldn’t be helped. Din was desperate. He was desperate to feel your very alive heartbeat under his touch. He was desperate for the warmth you exuded. He was desperate to show you how thankful he was for your safety. He was desperate for you to know how proud he was of you. He was desperate for you to know how sorry he was for not being here. 

Din was desperate, and it was all for you. 

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta.” Din spoke directly against your lips. Nothing short of the Maker would tear him away from you. Your own hands lifted and when he felt your fingers rake against his scalp, tug on his hair, Din’s repeated apology fell out in a groan. Din dragged his lips along your jawline, taking the time to leave a kiss on every inch. Eventually, his lips found your neck and he left kisses over the darkened bruise there. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” You replied in a hoarse whimper. 

Din disagreed entirely. He should’ve been here. He never should have left your side. You flinched when his lips touched a spot more tender than the rest. It was barely noticeable. In fact, he wouldn’t have realized you flinched at all if it wasn’t for your body being pressed so tightly to his. It was enough to remind him that you still needed care and rest. Din pressed one last kiss against your lips⏤ innocent and loving. When he pulled back you let out a whine of complaints. Din reached down to grasp his helmet and pulled it back on.

He leaned forward to rest the beskar against your forehead and at the touch your eyes opened once more. More than anything, Din wanted to see the color of your eyes unhindered by his visor. Even with the helmet on he found your eyes mesmerizing but the visor always muted colors. It seemed fitting if he thought about it. Even with the loophole of taking his helmet off, with your eyes closed a part of you stayed hidden to him. Just as he was hidden to you.

“Let me take a look at your wounds.”

“No.” You said and Din furrowed his brow. As if reading his displeasure at the response, you shook your head and clarified. “I meant, not now. I want to take a shower first. I need to.”

Din found it hard to argue against that. You wouldn’t be able to fully relax until the day was washed from your skin. He nodded and walked you further into the house. He kept one hand on your lower back, and Din loved that you kept pace with him. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know where the bathroom was, but the action made it feel like you were just as desperate as he was to stay in the other’s presence.

Grogu waddled out of the hall, dragging his stuffed frog behind him, just as the two of them reached the mouth of the hallway. He held his hands up, chirping out a request to be held, and Din knelt down to scoop the boy up before you could. Grogu blew a raspberry at him. “No buir. Need Ma.”

“I know, ad’ika.” Din replied. “But Ma has to take a shower.”

Grogu grumbled in protest, but when you reached out to lovingly pet the boy’s head Grogu was marginally appeased. As you drifted to the bathroom, Din gathered a fresh towel for you and he also grabbed one of his shirts for you to change into. A decision made solely to relieve the itch in his brain that needed to see you safe in his bed wearing his clothes, but you accepted both items with a tired smile. 

When the door shut and he heard the water kick on, Din blew out a breath of relief. He glanced down at Grogu who was still staring at the bathroom door. “It’s good to be home, isn’t it ad’ika?”

“Home with Ma.” Grogu nodded in agreement.

“Right.” Din chuckled. “We’re home with Ma.”

The hot water pelted your back and left your skin radiating heat. You had washed your hair, begun to wash your body, but midway through you dropped the bottle of soap. As you knelt down to pick it up, you suddenly had a flash of kneeling beside Wynn’s dead body. It sucked the air straight from your lungs and knocked you to your ass. Now you sat under the unrelenting stream of water with your legs curled up to your chest⏤ gasping in distress. Any air you did manage to fill your lungs with was uncomfortable and brought no relief. It felt like you were suffocating. 

A choked sob left your lips as you buried your face in your arms as they rested atop your knees. No matter how much you tried to turn your tired mind off, it continued to ruminate on the decisions you made. If you hadn’t forced Wynn to leave, would she still be alive? She wanted to wait for help. You felt trapped in this memory. A loop of telling Wynn she needed to run followed by watching the life leave her eyes right in front of you. You could still feel the warmth of her hot blood while holding her wound⏤ still feel the snapping of her ribs during the course of your desperate CPR. All useless. You didn’t save her. You sent her to her death. 

The sensation of having a towel thrown over your shoulders was startling. Your head snapped up to see Din knelt beside you. The shower head was off, Din’s gray pajama shirt plastered to his body on the side from water, and just behind him you could see the bathroom door hanging off it’s hinges.

“Ner kar’ta.” Din’s voice was rough. “Please talk to me.”

“Din?” You gasped. He had the large towel wrapped entirely around your body covering every inch of you. “What⏤ I don’t understand⏤”

“I heard something fall. I called out for you, over and over, but you didn’t respond.” Din replied. His voice took a sheepish tone. “I⏤I broke through the door.” He let his arms run over the towel covering your arms, giving them a squeeze. “Found you like this. Even when I turned the water off you still didn’t…”

It was the sight of your reflection in his visor and helmet that seemed to push you over your edge. Tears welled in your eyes and once the first ragged sob left your lips it was followed quickly by a string of others. Despite the fact that you were sitting on a tiled floor soaked with puddles, Din sat down right beside you and cautiously pulled you into his arms. You tucked yourself against his chest, and he fully enveloped you with his arms while resting his head on top of yours.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” Din murmured. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. Your sobs only interrupted by the sound of your lungs gasping for air. Din tightened his arms around you, a feat you didn’t know was possible, and you found comfort in his solid form. Din was here. Din made everything better. You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, but eventually Din mumbled softly, “We need to get you dressed. You’ll be cold soon.” You didn’t tell him that you’d never feel cold in his hold. “Need to treat your wounds too.”

Din helped you stand. He cautiously led you out of the shower, arm around your torso, and he stopped you in front of the bathroom counter. “I’m going to get the first aid kit from the kitchen. Are you going to be alright?”

You nodded. Din paused, as if hesitant, before returning the nod and moving toward the door. He mumbled a curse under his breath, you could hear it, and then he grabbed the large chunks of the door that had broken off when he rammed it to set aside where nobody would trip over them. While he was out, you grabbed his shirt and tugged it on⏤ using the damp towel to try and pat dry the dripping ends of your hair. Din returned, his visor scanning your body, before he settled beside you again.

With a focused intensity, Din applied a bit of bacta to the wound at your hairline and then rubbed some of it into the bruise around your neck as well. In the midst of his work, you whispered, “Wynn is dead.” Din’s fingers paused in their motion, surprise reading in his frame, but he was quick to return his movements and stance back to baseline. “She’s dead and I didn’t tell anybody. I forgot to tell someone.” Tears returned to your eyes. “I just left her in the street, Din. I left her like she meant nothing.”

“Hey.” Din said firmly. “This was during the firefight, was it not?” You nodded in confirmation. “You had no choice, ner kar’ta. That wasn’t your fault.”

“I think it was.” Your words fell out a pained whisper.

Din’s hands lifted to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch. It felt like he wanted to say something, but he paused. Instead, Din tangled his hand with yours and pulled you out of the bathroom. He didn’t ask, didn’t even hesitate, to pull you into his room. The moment you entered you heard Grogu’s familiar snores and it was such a comforting sound to hear after weeks sleeping in silence that you nearly cried. Din pulled back the covers and helped you slide in.

Rather than follow you into bed, he took a step back and the look on your face must have been obvious enough that he reached out to caress your face. “I’m coming back. I need to change clothes.”

Your eyes focused on the large wet stains from where you had been curled up into him. Din crossed the room and your eyes widened and bit when he began to pull his shirt off. His movements were confident and it warmed your heart that he was comfortable enough with you to reveal himself like this. Your eyes trailed over the expanse of his muscular back⏤ admiring the rugged lines of his broad shoulders and the various scars that littered his skin. Din pulled a new shirt on and you expected him to come back. Instead, Din began to pull off his sweatpants. Slowly, you sat up, pulling the sheets closer to you, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trace the shape of his lower half. You were blatantly ogling this man in his boxer briefs as he tugged on a new pair of sweats. Before turning back around, you saw him pick up his vambrace, pressing a few buttons, before setting it down once more.

Din turned around, tying the strings at his waistband, and he chuckled. His voice came out as teasing and light hearted. Clearly trying to put you at ease. “Are you checking me out, ner kar’ta?” 

“I missed you so much.” You replied. Too tired, physically and emotionally, to tease back the way that you wanted to. Instead, the truth tumbled out of your lips.

He came back around to the bed and slipped under the sheets. As Din’s arm wrapped around your waist, you let him pull you back into laying down. You shifted so your head rested on his chest and Din began to drag his knuckles up and down your spine. “I missed you too. Being away from you was unbearable for Grogu and I both.” Din hummed. “He tried to stay up for you, but passed out. Grogu didn’t sleep well last night. I think my anxiety kept him up.” Your hand was resting on his side⏤ fingers dragging up and down his ribs. You mumbled into his chest. Din’s hand, the one rubbing your back, trailed up to rake through your hair. “I want to talk.”

“About?” You mumbled.

“Ner kar’ta.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Din…”

“You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t have to tell me anything, but…” Din sighed, “I’d like to know. I want to help.” He massaged the back of your neck right where it met your skull and all your tension sat. A soft sigh left your body as you relaxed in his arms. “I sent Karga a message about Wynn. They’re going to find her. Put her to rest.” You buried your face down into his chest knowing your tears would dampen his new shirt all over again. “I just want to help.”

After a few moments of peaceful silence where you listened to Grogu’s snores and Din’s heartbeat, you turned so your face wasn’t pressed into his chest and you could speak. Hesitantly, you began to tell him what happened⏤ starting with the bombs that fell on Nevarro and ending with Paz leading you out of the burning city as you carried Elodie. The entire time Din didn’t speak. He’d mumble an acknowledgement or hum here and there, but he made no comment. 

When you finished, Din finally spoke up, “Tell me why you said what you did. You said what happened to Wynn was your fault.”

“She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay hidden and wait for help.” You closed your eyes tightly as the memory of Wynn’s lifeless eyes assaulted you once more. “If I had listened to her she might be alive. Help did come. I⏤I should have been more patient.”

“Ner kar’ta, you made that decision based on the limited information you had. You didn’t know I was coming and bringing help. Where the three of you were hidden wasn’t safe. If one of the pirates did discover you, you’d be pinned down in a hole.” Din spoke with a firmness that left no room for argument. “In that moment, you made the best decision you could. You made the right decision.” He used the arm not around you to grasp your chin and tilt your head up so you were facing his visor. “Listen to me, ner kar’ta. That was not your fault. You did not take Wynn’s life, she gave it to save Elodie. Wynn is a hero. Don’t take that from her by shouldering needless blame.”

There was something about the way Din spoke that resonated with you. His words calmed the turmoil in your soul. Din could repeat the same sentiment that anyone else would speak, but when it came from his lips it soothed your wounds like a salve. He couldn’t heal everything, there was self reflection only you could puzzle through, but he was a hand to hold as you waded through the worst of it.

“Din…” You started. Before you finished your sentence, it occurred to you that the words you wanted to say were significant. You wanted to tell Din you loved him. That’s what you felt right now. It was overwhelming. It was all encompassing. 

Din still had his hand at your chin and he let his large hand shift from your chin to your jaw. He held the side of your face and let his thumb trace patterns in your skin. “Yes, ner kar’ta?”

Saying those words felt like quite the leap. You were confident in the way you felt about him and how he felt about you, but there was a part of you that couldn’t quite push the words out. You were too mentally wiped out to process those thoughts right now. Not knowing how else to express how grateful you were for this man, you turned your face so you could press a kiss to the palm of his hand.

Din let out a content sigh and he shifted his body so you could rest more comfortably against him. He hummed and you heard the rumble of it in his chest. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He went back to soothingly dragging his fingers up and down your spine. “I’ll always be here.”

You let your eyes close and took a slow breath as Din’s warmth and the comforting smell of him lulled you into the best sleep you’ve gotten since Din and Grogu left. 

Nevarro was in pieces. Rubble decorated the streets and buildings were in shambles. Despite how terrible it looked, Din couldn’t help but be proud of the citizens of the city he looked after. They were strong. Nevarro was already healing only days after the attack. Din walked down the street with Grogu in his arms. The boy was squirming, wanting to get down, but with the rubble and debris Din didn’t want him wandering around. As he walked down the street, every once in a while a person would pause to thank him for bringing help⏤ bringing the Mandalorians. Din would nod in response, but it would shoot a pang of guilt through his chest. He didn’t deserve thanks. He had left them after all.

Din’s steps slowed as he began to pass the school house. Outside of the building, a memorial had been set up for Wynn. Candles, flowers, and cards covered the front steps and Din found himself letting out a sigh. The school teacher was a hero. Din meant that seriously when he spoke to you. It hadn’t been your fault, absolutely not, and both you and Wynn were the reason Elodie was alive and well. Her and her parents were currently off world. The little girl needed more intensive care than could be provided here, but last Din heard the child was doing very well.

“Miss?” Grogu mumbled. Din recognized the title Grogu would call his teacher. 

“Yes, ad’ika.” Din confirmed. Grogu’s ears wilted as he stared at the memorial. Din rubbed Grogu’s back and began to walk again with the goal to reach the clinic. You had left home early to go to work. You’d be there for any emergencies, per the norm, but you were also using today to see many of the people who were injured the day of for follow up. To ensure everyone was healing as they should. Din was of the opinion that you needed more rest, if not physical then mental, but trying to convince you of that was a near impossibility.

When Din reached the corner, Bo Katan pushed off a wall to join his pace. Her helmet was tucked under her arm. The Armorer had announced that the Mandalorians needed to come together rather than fall apart. It was a sentiment he could understand. Mayfeld had asked him about the helmet situation. Mandalorians coming together was a good idea, Din agreed, but coming to coincide with one another didn’t change the Creed he had dedicated himself to.

“Once this place gets cleaned up, I can see it being a nice place to live. To settle.” Bo hummed. Din nodded once, and she glanced his way. “I’m glad your partner is safe.”

“Thank you.” Din replied sincerely. 

“There is something I’d like to speak to you about.”

“I figured.” He said. “Does this have anything to do with retaking Mandalore?”

Bo chuckled, “Good guess.”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Bo kept by his side, “Is there anything I can say that will convince you to come with me to reclaim my fleet from Axe Woves?”

Din didn’t pause even a beat when he answered. “No. There isn’t.”

Bo sighed in annoyance and Din briefly felt guilt at the waves of frustration wafting off of Bo’s tense frame. Half of him felt like it was his duty to help in any way to restore Mandalore, but the other half could not even begin to fathom leaving you again. It occurred to Din that this might be selfish of him. His people needed him, right? He locked his jaw at the thought. 

“Your help would make this all go smoother, I think. We make a good team.” Bo said.

Din chuckled, “Did that hurt you to admit?”

“It did.” Bo smirked. “Which is why you should take it seriously.”

Din paused when the clinic came into view. He turned to face Bo and shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. Retaking Mandalore is a noble endeavor. One I would be honored to help in.” He paused. “But my family is here. I got lucky during that attack. I... I almost lost her.”

“I understand that.” Bo replied. “I know the weight of what I’m asking you, Djarin. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”

Din glanced back to the clinic and did a double take when he saw you coming out. A smile began to form on his features, but it fell when he watched Paz walk out behind her with Ragnar by his side. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You were wearing your white coat, a look Din truly loved on you, and Paz was chatting with you about something. Something that made you laugh in response. Since when was Paz funny? 

“Didn’t know you were the jealous kind, Djarin.” Bo chuckled.

Din snapped a glare at her. “I’m not jealous.”

“It’s all over your face.”

“I’m wearing a helmet.”

“Yet somehow I still know it is.”

Din grunted in mild annoyance. He wasn’t jealous. Per say.  It was just like with Vanth. Din was confident enough in his relationship with you, even as undefined as it currently was, that he wasn’t worried about someone sweeping you away. Din just had a bad habit of accidentally letting his possessive nature show and there was something about seeing his brother flirt with you that stirred him into wanting to fight.

Both you and Paz glanced down at Ragnar who must have been speaking and you set a hand on the boy’s shoulder with a smile. 

“Hm. They’d make a cute family.” Bo teased.

“Stop.” Din snapped.

He was caught off guard when Grogu jumped out of his arms. Him and Bo quickly followed after the boy who was in a mad rush toward you. Din watched as his son shoved past Ragnar, making the boy stumble enough that Din had a feeling the Force was involved, before leaping into your arms. 

“Oh, hey, baby.” You cooed.

“Ma. My Ma.” Grogu cuddled into your arms while shooting Ragnar a glare. 

Bo glanced at Din. “Aw. Like father, like son.”

Din wished he could take his helmet off just so Bo could see the full weight of the glare he currently wore. He continued forward until your eyes shot to him and the bright smile that filled your features just from spotting him. 

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked.

“Just checking in on you.” Din replied. Bo cleared her throat and Din sighed before nodding his head toward the woman standing beside him. “This is Bo Katan Kryze. Bo, this is Soran.”

You held your hand out to shake Bo’s hand and the red headed woman returned the greeting. Paz let one of his large hands settle on your shoulder and Din felt himself bristle at the motion. His older brother chuckled. “No need to worry. Wero’ika is doing more than fine.”

“Yeah, Paz brought me a late breakfast.” You chirped. 

Yeah, okay, Din was going to murder him.

“Oh, hang on,” You glanced over your shoulder, “I see a problem patient walking in. I’m not gonna subject Aayla to that.”

Din nodded once and you shot Bo and Paz a smile, squeezing Ragnar’s shoulder as well despite Grogu’s complaints, and then you turned to leave. As soon as you were inside the clinic, Din turned to Paz with a grunt. “Wero’ika? What the kriff is that?”

“A nickname, Djarin.”

“Mir’sheb.” Din snarled and Paz laughed in response. Ragnar tugged on his father’s arm before pointing off to the side. Paz nodded, telling him to be cautious, before the boy ran off to play with a group of kids down the street.

Bo chuckled. “I didn’t realize this was the beginning of a love triangle. Interesting.”

“It isn’t.” Din said.

Paz tilted his head and crossed his arms. “I’m unaware of Soran being in possession of a token of intention.”

“I’m working on it.” Din said through clenched teeth.

“Perhaps, I’ll work on it faster.”

Din knew Paz was just trying to get under his skin. Part of his frustration was the fact that it was working. His hands drifted to rest on his hips as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Paz was smug. Din had known him long enough to recognize the set of his shoulders. 

“I’m⏤” Din began then cleared his throat. “I’m giving her time.”

“You’re wasting her time.” Paz argued with a chuckle. “Wero’ika⏤”

“Don’t call her that like you know her.” Din cut in. “A lot just happened. I’m not going to rush her into anything.”

He glanced from Paz to Bo then back to Paz. Din gave the man a gruff good-bye before pushing past the two of them to head into the clinic. He greeted Miriam at the front desk. Before he could cross the threshold into the main room, the young woman caught his attention and let him know that you were down the hall instead. Din furrowed his brow in confusion, but walked down to find you sitting in the break room snipping the sutures off a patient’s wound.

“Marshal.” The patient greeted with a nod that Din returned.

Grogu was playing with a latex glove on the counter while you worked. You shot him a smile before focusing back on your work. Din settled beside his son, leaning against the counter, and just admired you with a sense of calm. He wondered if Paz was right. Not a line he’d ever say out loud, but Din wondered if he was just finding another excuse to hide behind. He wasn’t sure what he was so afraid of. You’ve made your interest in him very clear, the two of you shared a bond like he’d never experienced before, but still he hesitated.

“Alright, it looks good. No need to restrict yourself, but if it starts bothering you again just let me know.” You smiled. The patient thanked you, gave him a final good-bye, then left. You wandered over to where he stood with Grogu and began to wash your hands in the sink. “Hey, so your brother seems cool.”

Din grunted. “Who Paz?”

“Yeah.” You turned the faucet off and grabbed a few paper towels. “I thought he might not like me because I yelled at him during the battle.” Din’s eyes widened. He’d have to ask about that. “But instead I think I accidentally earned his respect? Also, what does ‘wero’ika’ mean?”

Din chuckled. “Little Problem.”

Your jaw fell open. “He’s been calling me a little problem this entire time?” Din nodded. “Son of a bitch. I’m gonna need you to teach me something amusing and mildly rude to call him in return.”

“Oh, I can think of some names for him.” Din replied. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something, but don’t feel any pressure with this, alright?” You quirked an eyebrow at him. Your eyes briefly glanced at Grogu and you shot your hand out to snatch the latex glove from Grogu’s mouth and wagged a finger at him. “I left to redeem myself. To restore my Creed with the plans to…” Din shifted awkwardly. “To court you.” The corner of your lips curled up. “I know a lot has happened recently, so again there is no pressure here, but I wanted to…make my intentions known.”

You reached out and wrapped your hand above his elbow, between his armor plates, and gave it a small squeeze. “Din, I appreciate your patience and concern, but I⏤ I want this. I want you.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “So, just tell me how we do this. How does Mandalorian courting work? Do I sign on the dotted line or…?”

Din laughed, in part due to relief, “No. Nothing like that. I have…” He reached to the back of his belt to unhook the blade and sheath that was once his. Din brought it around to hold out to you and you stared at the blade curiously. “In Mandalorian custom, a token of intention is given to the person being courted and to accept it means accepting those advances.” Din cleared his throat again. Maker, his mouth was dry. “Tokens are usually a weapon with the person’s signet on it.”

He pulled the blade out of the sheath enough that you were able to see the mudhorn etched into the blade’s side. Din tucked the blade back into the sheath and gave you a small nod. With a bright smile, you took the blade from his hands and he felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest watching you run your finger against the mudhorn.

You held the blade against your chest and nodded. “I accept, Mandalorian.”

Grogu began to clap his hands together and you broke out into laughter that relaxed every single bone and muscle in his body. The only regret Din had was not doing this at home where he could pull his helmet off and kiss you.

mando'a translations:

ni ceta: sorry wero'ika: little problem ner kar'ta: my heart mir'sheb: smartass

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #mando x reader #mando x you #a fresh start #female reader #domestic bliss!din djarin

[hockybish]

It's Just a Game

I Hughes!sister au I

"Come on Lola hit the ball!" Quinn encouraged his little sister, although they were on opposite teams.

The siblings were playing some sort of made up hockey inspired game in the basement. Jack and Lola were against Quinn and Luke. At the moment Jack and Lola were losing,

"Just hit it already!" Jack grumbled, she was taking too long in his opinion.

"You got dis Bah!" Luke cheered.

Lola lined up with the ball on the floor, just like her older brothers had been teaching her and swung at it with all she had. She must have given it a little too much oomph because she completely missed the ball and fell over.

"Oops. I sorry." She got up and sadly looked at the ball that hadn't moved an inch.

"Try again." Quinn smiled helping his little sister get set up again. He was going to give her one more shot before moving on with the game.

Lola tried again and once again missed the ball to which Luke swooped in and shot it into the net, scoring another goal from his team.

And that was the game. Luke and Quinn won by a large margin.

"It's not fair!" Jack grumbles, smashing his stick into the ground. Jack knew it was all Lola's fault because she's a baby and he had to do all the work.

"Sorry Jack. We won fair and square! Right Lu?" Quinn smiled at his younger siblings. Jack glared angrily, Luke shook his head, agreeing with Quinn, and Lola just looked at the floor she knew it was her fault, it was always her fault.

"But you stuck me with the baby! She can't even do anything!" Jack crossed his arms, stick still in hand.

"Hey, I'm three. I not a baby!" Lola frowned, protesting that she was old enough to play with the older boys.

"I want to play again, and I want Luke on my team!" Jack insisted, ignoring the little girl's response to being called a baby. He was only consumed with what he wanted, and maybe if he could get his way with having Luke on his team, he wouldn't lose like he did when he was forced to team up with Lola.

All Jack wanted to do was win once.

"We don't want to play anymore." Luke said this, with Quinn nodding in agreement this time. They didn't want to play with a sore loser.

"Come on!" "No!"

"Argh! Why do you have to be such a baby?" Jack yelled once again at his little sister, with tears now forming in her eyes.

What happened next was a bit of a blur for all parties involved. One sibling took a swing and the other sibling screamed.

Ellen had been making dinner in the kitchen when her ears picked up the sound of someone crying in the basement, most likely her youngest child.

She knew it was only going to be a matter of time before the sweet little girl would come running up to her and she would have to scold the boys. What she didn't expect was to find Luke running up to her instead.

"Mommy, Mommy!" The four-year-old was out of breath. The distance from the downstairs living room to the upstairs kitchen wasn't that far, but Luke was trying to hurry. There was an emergency. "Bah's hurt!"

"I can hear her crying. What happened?" Ellen was trying to keep her voice level and even. She wanted to know what happened so she could figure out how to fix the problem before going down there.

"Jack hit Lola with a stick! There's blood everywhere! Come on, Mommy!" Luke tugged on his mother's hand. 

"WHAT?!" She let her youngest son's hand slip from her grasp as she hurried down the steps. Sure enough, there was Quinn holding and trying to calm a crying Lola as best as he could while being covered in his sister's blood. And Jack, the little culprit, was nowhere to be seen.

"MOMMY!" Lola wailed, huge crocodile tears slipping down her cheeks, mixing with the sticky red sticky substance

"Shhh. It's okay, Lola. Lukey went to get Mommy. It's okay." Quinn repeated his words like a mantra, praying Luke would get back soon with his mom.

"Quinn, I've got it." Ellen took a hold of her baby girl. Quinn backed off, giving his mother free rein over the situation. Sweetie, what hurts? Lola, honey, let Mommy see." Through the tears Lola looked at her mother, showing off her busted fat lip and missing two front teeth.

"Oh, baby, it's not that bad." Ellen cooed, trying to calm the child. The use of the pet name baby sent Lola into another crying fit.

"Where's Jack?" The mother of four inquired, her eldest pointed in the direction of the couch, aka the spot all four Hughes children hide when they were in trouble.

Jack didn't dare move from his hiding spot. He was terrified of what was going to happen if he came out of hiding. He hit his little sister, he didn't mean too.

"Jack? Can you please come out now? It's going to be alright; everything is going to be alright. Lola's going to be okay." he had heard his mother call out for him.

"I I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry Lola. I was mad. I shouldn't have done it." He apologized as soon as he saw his sister. It took Lola a hot minute to forgive her brother, but she did and even gave him a hug,

"Thank you Jack. Please remember next time. It's just a game."

Age Guide: Quinn = 8, Jack = 6, Luke = 4, Lola = 3

#quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #lola hughes #hughes!sister au

[yynumaki]

Happy Ever After

Sum: After you got horribly injured on a mission with a loose special grade curse, Geto reaches his breaking point

Tw: Angst

(idk if I should make a part 2 with the happy ending)

He was doing so well. Everything was starting to turn back to what it was back then; that was before the incident.

After the whole vessel thing, Geto wasn't the same as he was before; and not long after that incident with Toji, Haibaras life was taken from a mission him and Nanami went on. Depression was clawing its way inside of him, slowly destroying his faith in humanity day after day.

Thankfully though, you were there for him trying to be bright enough to guide him out of the darkness that was slowly consuming his mind.

You were his anchor, the only thing left that he was holding onto, hoping to pull him up and out of the darkness of the abyss that he'd fallen into.

"Its alright, its alright" you hushed, "I'm right here, just breath.."

He had another nightmare, another one where it wasn't only Haibara and Riko who passed, but everyone he holds dear to his heart. The image of a bloodied Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and Yaga was all running through his mind, though the worst part of it— was you.

A few moments before opening his eyes, his incubus was already right infront of him. Your eyes were lifeless as he stared through them, body covered in a sticky mess of your own blood, your skin slowly getting paler and paler as you lost more of it.

"I lost you" he whispered with a shaky breath, "Y— you were...."

His eyes were blood red from crying in his sleep, breathing heavy and body shaking.

"Im right here Suguru" you whispered trying to calm him as you cradled the broken man, "I'm right here next to you"

Feeling your warmth, he calmed. He closed his eyes and held you tighter, almost suffocating, but you didnt seem to care, knowing that he needed to know that you don't plan on going anywhere any time soon.

Months after that, everything was shattered. Every progress, every effort, as well as every last bit of hope he had left in humanity slipped right through him.

For as long as it took for him to progress, you were there. You were picking up the broken pieces and putting them all together one by one; it didn't matter if it cut you one too many times, you still stayed, and you still kept on going, not giving up on the man you truly loved, and he couldn't be more thankful.

He cherishes the moments he had with you, he held onto them and considered them as treasure more valuable than any amount of gold or gems, he couldn't think of any other reality where he hadn't met you, he didn't even want to think of that.

Instead, you both have already pictured your life together. On a small but comfortable home in the province where there were only minimal curses, barely even any, raising a child or two, and having a peaceful and normal life away from the jujutsu world when the time was right.

You both even convinced yourselves that you would be able to drag Shoko and Satoru along with you, considering that Shoko could easily work as a doctor with her technique, and well, Geto was sure that he'd be able to bribe Satoru with a few sweets and praises.

Geto said that maybe he could work as a detective someday since it seemed pretty interesting to him, and honestly, imagining that, you couldn't think of anything else to better fit him.

But since you both were still so young, and still lacked a bit of financial support, you promised eachother to keep on going with your position of employment until the time was right, and Geto had no problem in waiting since he knew he already found the right person.

When Shoko was suddenly called when the both of them had the day to themselves, something felt off with Geto. He had this deep feeling in his stomach that something was wrong, and he couldn't shake the fact that, that something could have involved you.

It was unusual since Shoko has Satoru's number muted except for the one for actual life or death emergencies which, surprisingly Gojo only uses for actual emergencies knowing the stakes in the jujutsu world, and Nanami only ever texts, preferring it to a call though barely even does so, so Yaga was the first one that came to mind when he saw Shoko answering the call with furrowed brows.

He knew you were about to come back from a mission today. He thought that it was something that he shouldn't have worried about since you've already requested Yaga to only put you through low grade curses, something you could handle with a blink of an eye to be able to ease Geto since he wasn't fully healed yet mentally.

He was the one who asked Shoko to accompany him to buy a gift for you; when asked what was the occasion by his short haired friend, he simply said that he didn't need a reason to treat you nothing less of a queen.

Upon paying for a bouquet of jasmines and tulips, as well as some spicy noodles you oh so loved, Shoko received the call.

With one look from Shoko, he knew.

He had never ran so fast in his life with one hand pulling his friend out the door of the shop. Geto quickly conjured up a curse to be able to get to the school as fast as possible.

When he entered the building where injured sorceres were usually brought to, he finally saw you; and when he did, he felt his worst nightmare come to a horrid reality.

Your uniform was much darker color, seeing that it was covered in your blood, eyes closed, and face scratched and bruised everywhere.

He hadn't even realised that he started screaming, calling for you. He didn't realise that Gojo already appeared behind him, and was told to pull him out of the room by Yaga for Shoko to be able to help you.

His ears started ringing, not understanding that Yaga was explaining to him how a special grade curse suddenly appeared there. He didn't care.

That was his breaking point.

Now he stood a few feet away from your crying and shaking form, you were on your knees, quietly begging for him to comeback to you knowing that he was still able to hear your words, the moon illuminating his form slowly walking away.

He informed you that he was leaving for good with a letter, which caused you to run to him before it was too late, without you knowing that it already was.

There was no point in begging anymore. It all fell out of his ears anyway, because in his mind, hes making this world safer for you, hes trying to secure the future you planned together, he was trying to protect you.

"One day my love" he said while walking away, "When we rid of these horrid monkeys, I'll come back to you, and we shall live the life we always dreamt about"

"You and I shall soon have our 'happy ever after'"

#geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto angst #suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x oc

[foxymoxynoona]

So...did we ever actually get a drabble with Jungkook getting to hold Kai for the first time after he's born? 🥺 the lil' boy who's made up of him and the woman he's loved for decades 🥺

I got carried away 😅

Story: Amended Characters: Isabella & Jungkook Length: 7,322 CW: Birthing scene with references to cutting cords and placentas and stitches, health complications at birth, stress, fluffy fluff

“There’s evidence of meconium in the amniotic fluid,” were not the first words Jungkook had expected to hear the seconds before his son’s head began to emerge from between the legs of his wife. It was surreal, what he witnessed, it had seemed like an impossible thing –like a cartoon, not something women actually went through. But Isabella was real, really going through this, really clenching her fists against her chest as she curled forward and pushed with everything in her, his tough strong girl who had agreed to go through all of this again so they could do it together. She had known what this was like. He kinda did but, he was learning in the moment, not really. 

Watching Isabella go through this pain and being unable to fix it was a guilt second only to knowing the pain he had caused for her when they were younger. Well, he had sort of caused this too… but she had asked him to! Very sexily! How was he supposed to have resisted sex and getting to have a baby with her! No mortal man could resist that.

“Head is out,” the doctor called and Jungkook realized he was both present and not. They had suggested he watch. He would never be able to unsee what he was seeing now, but it was trippy –not just the baby’s head, covered in gooey gunk and some kind of white… cheese looking stuff??-- but this whole image, this whole experience.

“What does that mean, meconium?” he belatedly asked as the nurses encouraged Isabella to wait, not to push, as they quickly wiped off the baby’s face and sucked snarfy sounding stuff out of the nose and mouth. A head of hair he hadn’t expected stuck out at odd angles as the baby’s mouth opened and closed in protest, eyes firmly shut in what looked more like anger as the injustice of this introduction to the world.

Do they look like me? he wondered, feeling like the room had gone still despite the rapid actions of the doctor and nurses.

Isabella yanked him out of it, demanding, “Do you see the baby? How’s it look? Is everything ok?”

“The meconium,” he repeated, not sure someone had answered.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” one of the nurses said. “It may mean nothing, we just want to get Baby really clean to keep it out of their airway.”

“What if it’s–”

Jungkook was interrupted by the doctor calling, “Ok let’s get this baby clear–” The baby’s cry interrupted him, like it was say yeah get a fucking move on here, I’m a head sticking out of a vagina!

Jungkook grabbed Isabella’s hand, wanting to be helpful and involved somehow but feeling absolutely unnecessarily. For most of labor Isabella had not wanted to be touched. It had all moved so much faster than he’d expected. It wasn’t like he could contribute much of anything as Isabella curled forward, face sweaty and red and everything in her clenched as she expelled a tiny human from her body.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” he rushed –not quite what he’d meant to say, but absolute admiration for her loosened the words.

“The fuck?” she laughed. “Doctor this man is harassing me.” Her breath was panted, her words a cheat as she stole a break

Maybe those were the first words their child heard from their mother, if the baby could hear anything over the crying.

“One more push, one more push, you’re almost done!” the nurses chanted and Jungkook saw with amazement that a baby from the hips up had now emerged. He couldn’t process that it was real, that this was really happening, that Isabella had not just grown a big belly and that there really had been a tiny person in there all along. Their tiny person.

“I love you,” he said to her, to the baby, to both of them. “You’re so cool, Isabella.” He had the sudden need to rush out as many good things as he could, so the baby would be born surrounded by words of love and kindness. He assumed Isabella had showered Ezra and Lily with love at their births but he knew their “fathers” had not, not the way he did now for them, not the way he would for this baby.

He had wanted so badly for everything with this baby to be different and now he had contributed basically nothing to Isabella’s labor. She hadn’t wanted the massages or the kisses, she hadn’t found it amusing that he’d driven her to the hospital in his cop car with the siren on, and it had all moved too quickly for him to walk her up or down the hall with their arms linked and his words of devotion carrying her through her contractions. 

They’d arrived at the hospital approximately eighteen minutes ago and here she was pushing out the baby.

This wasn’t what he’d planned. He wanted to be better than Landon and Stig.

“I love you, baby, you’re amazing,” he said. Isabella grabbed his hand and squeezed it this time with her push –a short one, replaced with a stunned, open face and a gasp. OUt of the corner of his eye, Jungkook saw the baby suddenly slide down, followed by a rush of fluid and the cheers of the medical staff.

“It’s out!” Isabella cried.

“He’s been screaming, didn’t you hear him Mama?” one of the nurses joked. 

“Dad, are you going to cut the cord?”

“A boy,” Jungkook cried over his son’s cries, hands itching to grab him and comfort him. He glanced at Isabella to see if that was ok, that they’d had a boy. She had insisted so many times she didn’t care either way but… but a son, a boy might be like him… would Ezra be ok with a brother…? 

Isabella was reaching forward, eyes glassy as she called, “Give him here.”

“One second mama, we want to make sure we got his mouth cleared–”

“Does it look like he aspirated–”

“I see some in the mouth but–”

“Dad, you cutting this cord?” the doctor called, stretching an intestinal-looking thing as a nurse held out a pair of scissors. Jungkook took them in a stupor. He didn’t really want to do this thing, it felt wrong to cut a body party, a piece of Isabella and their baby, but in the moment he was too overwhelmed to remember he’d meant to say no. He’d never forget the way the cutting felt in his hand and quickly thrust the scissors back, attention turning towards the baby who was now being dried and looked over, a stethoscope pressed to his chest as his little legs kicked and his hands reaching for a parent who was already failing him.

Jungkook didn’t realize he’d put his hand on Isabella’s head until she grabbed his wrist, her other arm hanging in the air as she called, “What’s wrong? What’s going on? Jungkook, I can’t see–”

“They’re looking at him and listening to his chest,” Jungkook said. Isabella’s panic made his rise. Was something really wrong?

“Hey, what’s going on?” he demanded, leaving her side and striding over to the rotisserie-chicken-heating looking thing the baby was on now. He didn’t know the doctor who had suddenly appeared from nowhere in all the chaos.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Gardner,” she said, “I’m the pediatric specialist here.” She held her finger up and listened again to the baby’s chest, though he’d stopped screaming. It was more of a gentle, plaintive cry now, as if he was giving up on life–

Or comforted by Jungkook’s sudden near voice.

Jungkook shifted the active part of his brain away from the doctor and to the baby –his baby– who needed him.

“Hey, hey little guy,” he cooed, leaning down and reaching right out to stroke a little chubby cheek. He got goosebumps, saying that to his son, to a real baby that was his. The baby’s head turned, wobbly, as if trying to press against his finger. “It’s ok. It’s ok you’re just born now, and your mama is waiting to hold you close.”

The pediatric doctor was rattling things off –a weight, a height, an APGAR score.

“I hear a slight crackle,” she told the nurse writing things down. “Breathing is slightly elevated but hard to say whether that’ll linger. Let’s check his vocal cords…”

“Excuse me, Dad. You can hold his hand but I need his head,” a nurse said, nudging him out of the way to first slide on a tiny yellow hat and then hold the infant’s head steady. Jungkook felt a jolt of alarm as the doctor suddenly slid a massive camera light clamp tool thing into the tiny little mouth. The baby didn’t seem more upset by this than he already was, didn’t even flail about it, though a nurse held his legs still anyway.

“Wait, what’s going on? Is this really necessary?” Jungkook demanded, worried he was already failing his son. He needed to understand what they were doing before they just did things! 

“Koo?” Isabella called. “Someone tell me what’s happening!”

“Hands and feet are still bluish but may be pinking up,” the nurse holding the legs said.

The doctor nodded and removed the tool –which Jungkook saw now was just a light, not even as big as his panic had made him think. The baby screamed louder and he felt a surge of anger that no one was answering their questions.

“Excuse me,” he said, not as politely as he intended, and promptly scooped his baby up right from beneath the doctors. There was so little weight to the body as Jungkook’s hands lifted, his skin warm and oddly dry-feeling but with a softness to it he couldn’t describe. Jungkook didn’t know what he had expected, but not for the this newborn to feel like such a baby. He was only minutes old, how did he feel so real?

Unphased, the doctor touched Jungkook’s arm and cooed at the baby, “Good good. I’m sorry, little sunshine, we just have to make sure you’re ok.”

The baby continued to cry. He was so small! And yet, not quite as small as Jungkook had expected. Sorah had been miniscule, and Amelia just about. This baby felt bigger than Sian and Parker and Sam had been, but maybe he just didn’t remember? Jungkook tucked the baby down into the crook of his arm, nestled against his chest, and took it all back; suddenly the baby felt tiny! Impossibly small! He felt like his arms were too big and awkward despite ample experience holding even very fresh babies. Many times! Not quite as fresh as this one. 

He was moving on fumes now as he bounced and hummed and tried to believe this was real.

“It’s ok, you’re ok, shhhh, I’ve got you.”

“Jungkook? What’s going on?”

“We can go to mom,” the doctor said, touching Jungkook’s arm. She had a smile on her face which soothed Jungkook because it had to mean nothing was badly wrong, though he couldn’t quite fight off the resentment that this doctor had already upset his baby and delayed his comfort and not even answered his questions.

He turned away from the chicken-roaster and saw Isabella watching with absolute terror that seemed totally disconnected from the doctor and nurses still working between her legs. She looked completely ignorant of that, her whole attention trained on Jungkook and the baby. Everything right now was so weird.

The baby gave a full body shudder and a nurse suggested, “I’ll get a diaper.”

“Who cares about a diaper,” Jungkook snapped, offended she’d think he was afraid of whatever the baby might produce. He was just born! Jungkook was his dad, he didn’t care, let babies be naked! “A blanket? Please.” It was tacked on. Politeness wasn’t at the front of his mind right now; his baby needed things and what, they were worried about some pee or poop? If that would make him feel better, he could poop all he wanted!

Jungkook’s throat felt thick as he tucked the baby higher, pressing his jaw gently to the hatted top of head as he carried him over to his anxious eomma. It was crazy. It was unbelievable. He was holding the baby and he couldn’t even make sense of that yet because it actually didn’t feel that weird at all, of course he was holding his son, hadn’t he always been holding his son since the dawn of time? Wasn’t this all just a really nice dream?

A nurse held out a blanket but first Jungkook lowered the baby into Isabella’s waiting arms, then took the blanket himself and tucked it around the baby. Isabella’s gasped and immediately pushed the hat off and stoked the hair and chubby little face and papery-thin ears as tears spilled over. 

“Oh my god, our baby. Look at him.”

Only then did Jungkook more fully appreciate that he had held his son for the first time. His real living breathing in-the-world son. The baby’s cries quieted to a single final chirp of complaint and then nothing, just peace on his mom’s chest. Jungkook decided the baby had been real a moment ago, there was this haze of unreal around everything until Isabella and the baby were together. Now it was real. Impossible, but real.

“Oh my god,” Isabella said again. “He’s got so much hair!” Jungkook laughed and reached out to stroke the baby’s face again too, leaning close on the bed beside Isabella, ignorant to the bustle around the room. That was just background noise now. All that mattered was that suddenly they had a baby and Isabella was holding their baby.

He felt complete in a way he had not known was missing. Him, Isabella, Ezra, Lily, Gidget, and now this baby to tie them all together, he felt whole. He suddenly desperately wanted everyone here so he could hold everyone at once. His heart would burst. 

“Was that you?!” Isabella gasped, looking up at him. The whining noise had come from him, not the baby at all, though it sounded like a baby noise. He tried to explain himself but only a cracked non-word came out and he blinked rapidly against the tears. “Oh my god you’re going to cry,” Isabella giggled. Her face glowed with sweat and effort and joy and Jungkook wasn’t surprised at all the way their son stared adoringly up at it. What a beautiful first view.

“I’m trying not to,” Jungkook admitted and laughed as his eyes threatened to run over. He pressed his face to Isabella’s shoulder and drew a deep shaky breath. The blanket moved against his chin, a little foot cycling. “Hey, are you trying to kick me already?!” The baby was a solid warm lump under the blanket, so warm Jungkook couldn’t believe it as he patted the little butt he’d been shown so many times on the ultrasounds. 

“Ok, I’m sorry to interrupt again, we want to draw some blood,” the pediatric doctor said.

“You have to take him?” Isabella asked, shifting as though trying to sit up. The doctor down south told her not to move, so Jungkook slid his arm across her, trying not to notice that there were stitches happening in a place stitches shouldn’t be. How was Isabella not pay any attention at all to that?!

“In a moment, but you keep holding him now. Often that helps a baby improve and wake up, which is what we want to see, he’s still a little sleepy. Right now we’re just going to stick his foot. I will explain while the nurse does that. We noticed meconium in the amniotic fluid right before he was born. Meconium is the baby’s first stool, it’s this blank inky stuff–”

“We have two other children, I remember it,” Isabella interrupted. The joy was gone from her face, she looked so serious at the doctor. Jungkook could read her mind. Spit it out already.

“The concern is whether the baby aspirates the meconium into his lungs. If so, it can make it difficult for him to get the oxygen he needs. The good news is, he looks really good, his color is good, he is responsive and strong. There were no signs of fetal distress during labor and you delivered quickly, but a quick delivery can be hard on a baby too. I do hear a slight crackle in his lungs,” the doctor continued. Jungkook watched the nurse grab their baby’s tiny foot with a needle and resisted the urge to push her away. The baby didn’t seem to notice or care anyway. He was just… existing against Isabella, breathing quickly like he couldn’t quite trust the air of this new world.

“That’s bad,” Isabella said. “Is that why he’s kind of breathing fast? Does he need oxygen or something?”

“It’s not good but we don’t know if it’s bad yet. We’ll run a blood gas to look for low blood acidity, low oxygen or increased carbon dioxide. The most accurate way we can look to see if he’s aspirated is with a laryngoscope, which we’re setting up now.”

“Right now?” Isabella asked with alarm. “He was just born!”

“The last thing we want is your baby not getting the oxygen he needs to do well,” the doctor explained. “If he needs to go on oxygen therapy, better we do that quickly.”

“But…” Isabella trailed off, face distressed, but she was already shifting to hand it over. “You can check quickly?”

“I don’t understand, he’s in danger?” Jungkook tried to catch up.

“We hope not but we want to make sure so we can react quickly. Your baby’s APGAR score was a 5, which means–”

“He needs help,” Isabella said. “Take him, do what he needs! But tell me what’s going on!”

Jungkook felt like he’d done the wrong thing bringing the baby over now. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He and Isabella were just supposed to snuggle their new baby now; he wasn’t supposed to trail after the doctor carrying his son back to the chicken oven where medical staff had set up several tools next to an incubation bed. Just the sight of that was terrifying and known. It meant something was really wrong.

Jungkook barely held himself together as the baby was braced again and the doctor slid an actual camera this time down the tiny throat. Jungkook wanted to push them all away but was frozen with the terror of it. What did it mean if the baby didn’t have enough oxygen? He didn’t understand in a real way, only that it was bad. What was happening to their baby?

“Faint staining,” the doctor said, looking at a grainy image on the small monitor that meant nothing to Jungkook. He wanted to scream at the awful image of his newborn child with a camera in its mouth. This was wrong, this was a nightmare.

“Very faint though,” she said as she withdrew the tools and set them on a tray for a nurse to carry off. “Let’s recheck APGAR.” Jungkook could only stand there as they ran through a series of questions again –about baby’s skin tone, response to thwacking on the heels, a pulse check, temperature. Jungkook felt like he’d shit himself, he was so anxious, but mindlessly called things over to Isabella before realizing she’d just delivered the placenta. Did he want to see it? No, he told the nurse; how could he care about that when they were listening to his baby’s lungs again? Also, kinda gross…

Suddenly the baby jolted and cried out.

“Ah! Sorry, little one, was that cold?” the doctor grinned and shared a smile with the nurses. She concentrated on listening and nodded, then glanced over her notes as the baby began squirming. 

“What’s happening?” Isabella called again. “Someone tell me!”

“Your baby’s APGAR score is improving,” the doctor called back. “That’s good. That’s very good.” She slid her finger along his arm and palm and smiled when little fingers curled around it. “That’s better. That’s better, little one, you’re waking up.”  

“Oxygen?” the nurse asked.

“Set up for the chest x ray, let’s do that since I saw the staining but… but these signs are good… come, let’s get baby back to mom for now.” 

Jungkook wasn’t thrilled the doctor picked the baby up this time, after the nurses had added a diaper. Something about the diaper seemed wrong, like they were already trying to clean the baby up when he and Isabella just wanted to be with the baby, no diaper needed, just them. He trailed along as the doctor whose name he’d already forgotten returned the baby to Isabella’s chest, offering her a reassuring smile. Isabella looked terrified and Jungkook didn’t know what to do about it. He wasn’t sure his touch would be comforting since it hadn’t been for labor, so he just hovered beside her and watched.

“Good news, mom and dad, baby’s looking a little better. I do see signs of meconium staining on his cords but it’s very, very faint which hopefully means he aspirated very little. The crackle is still in his lungs. This is all very slight but something we want to monitor closely. His heart rate is picking up and his breathing is slowing down, all very good signs. We’ll redo the blood gas in a few hours as well but there’s a balance to strike between making sure he’s supported and not being too aggressive with anything that will tax his little lungs.”

“So what does that mean?” Isabella asked, bless her, because Jungkook didn’t understand a fucking thing.

“It means he is looking better by the minute despite aspirating the meconium so right now I want you to take the time you want to do skin to skin like you are, try to nurse him, just love on him. But we will want to watch him closely for the next few hours and if anything changes, put him on oxygen, so you’re going to see a lot of us until we’re sure he’s all right.”

“Should we do that right now?” Isabella asked. “I don’t want to hold off just for my sake–”

“No no, I promise I would not risk anything. Right now the best thing is for him to be surrounded by you and watched. When you sleep though, we will want to take him to the nursery for close watch, ok?”

“I’m here,” Jungkook reminded. “I can watch him while she sleeps.”

The doctor smiled and agreed, “Yes, absolutely. I will explain the things to watch. But both of you should rely on medical staff while you are here to get the rest you need to take care of him at home. We may have him stay here a couple extra days.”

“In the NICU?” Isabella asked.

“I don’t think he needs NICU as of now, we’ll just keep watching. He is seeming stronger by the minute, we just want to make sure we’re quick to react if that changes. See, he’s rooting, that’s a good sign too.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like she’d tossed a bucket of stress over them. He watched the baby with more anxiety than fascination as Isabella went through the motions of stroking his face and pressing her nipple into his mouth –something that seemed old hand to her after two kids but Jungkook thought was pretty fascinating. The pediatric doctor remained to watch too, a whole party of nurses as well, but Isabella didn’t seem to mind the audience.

“Is it bad?” he asked her quietly, hoping she would know more and could give him an answer.

“I don’t know… he looks so perfect… I think if it was really bad they’d have him on oxygen so they’re just watching…” She looked nervous. Conflicted. He resented that the doctor had interfered with their joy. He felt like worry was making him miss everything. 

“Ready to move her to a room?” a nurse at the door called. 

Jungkook trailed after them, not sure how he was supposed to fix any of this and angry that they hadn’t had more than a minute to bask in each others presence after birth and terrified that a big hand was going to suddenly reach down and steal his son away before he even got to know him.

**

The baby had been born shortly after seven o’clock in the morning. It was weird to get messages from family members about delivering the kids to school, about work, wanting to know when they could visit and asking for pictures. Jungkook hadn’t even taken pictures during labor or immediately after the baby was born. Another failure. He tried to make up for it in the room, snapping photos of Isabella exhausted but mooning over the baby, the baby snuggled against her chest, the baby trying to nurse because Isabella said that was fine to photograph. 

Eomma and Appa came by right away and couldn’t believe a whole baby had been born in such a short period of time. Soona came too, and Gina. They all fluttered around Isabella and the baby and Jungkook was glad to have something to do, taking pictures, fetching Isabella water and food, reciting the things the doctors had said even though they didn’t make sense to him. He wished he could believe everyone’s assurances that the baby would be fine, but they didn’t know.

Soona went with him for the baby’s x-ray because he insisted, needing to feel like he was doing something for his baby. His sister was a doctor, no one would refuse to answer her questions, and Soona would tell him what they were really saying. It was all so scary. It didn’t matter that the doctors were saying things were improving, there was still that crackle in his lungs, and they decided to start him on antibiotics because he was running a fever, and Jungkook worried worried worried. A newborn baby shouldn’t run even a small fever! He was glad to have his big sister there to ask the right questions.

It was several hours before family left to let Isabella rest before more family would come by later. Jungkook nodded seriously when Eomma told him to be firm if they wanted fewer visitors –that was another thing he could do. But he knew Isabella would want the kids to come by and meet their brother as soon as they were out of school. He hoped the baby would be healthy and strong enough; it wasn’t risky, right? And–

“Jungkook.” He went at her call in an instant, leaning down on the side of the bed. “You’re worried,” she so wisely detected.

“Yeah.”

“But he’s doing ok,” she said.

“Shouldn’t they put him on oxygen just to be sure?” Jungkook asked. He’d made the mistake of looking up on his phone what it meant to aspirate meconium in a quiet moment. Low oxygen at birth could cause all sorts of brain trauma. They might not even see it for months or years. He might seem fine now but then get worse later.   

“Koo.”

“Hm?”

“Snuggle down with me.” She shuffled over as best she could in the bed, and he kicked his shoes off before balancing on it with her, not trusting it would hold them both until it did. The baby had fallen asleep on her chest, sound asleep, mouth open, perfectly at peace.

“What if he’s got brain damage?” Jungkook whispered, afraid the baby would hear.

“Then we do whatever he needs,” she said. “But it wasn’t much meconium. It’s light staining. His blood gas wasn’t bad.”

“But–”

“I know,” she murmured. “Everything is so scary. Everything can go wrong and they’re so little and you feel so helpless to do anything. I feel that terror too. But look at him. He’s here, and he’s strong, I can tell.”

Jungkook had to admit the baby did look healthy and peaceful. He looked less blue and more like a little plump puffy baby. He didn’t even seem to be having a hard time breathing right now; his whole chest didn’t convulse like it had off and on all morning.

“Is he breathing?” Jungkook suddenly gasped.

“He’s breathing. I can feel it. He’s just content right now,” Isabella said. “He’s good.”

“He’s good,” Jungkook repeated.

“We have a baby.”

“We have a baby,” Jungkook repeated, then added, “And I only cried a little. There wasn’t time to cry.”

“I know. That was scary but… but it’s quiet now.”

It was. It was so quiet and peaceful. Isabella was a beast and seemed to have come through labor as if it was nothing, which he did not understand.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, realizing he hadn’t in a few minutes.

“I’m still fine, Koo,” she laughed. “Puffy and sore. They’re going to come tell me to try and pee soon and I’ll probably cry about that. I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“You should rest. You… did a lot.”

“You think?” she giggled.

He stroked her face to get her to look up so he could kiss her and finally his touch seemed welcome. He hadn’t had time to entertain the fear it would be permanent, that space she wanted, but it was gone now anyway, just a figment of labor. He could feel she was sleepy by the low energy of her kiss, warm and soft and lazy. 

“It’s so different,” she murmured. 

“What is?” he asked. He kissed her forehead, his hand dropping down to rest against the lump of the baby because he needed to be part of this joyful love too. Whatever happened, the baby was loved and wanted and Isabella was right, they would figure out whatever he needed if something did go wrong later on.

“This part,” she answered. “It’s so weird. When Ezra was born, I almost felt bad for Landon because I just had this instant connection with the baby, he was mine and… and I think Landon felt very left out. He didn’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re amazing, Koo. When he was first born and the doctor had him over there and I didn’t know what was happening but you were there.”

“Doing nothing.”

“Being there. When Lily was born, you know it was just the two of us, me and her, and that felt right too. I would have liked to have a partner there but not Stig. He didn’t belong in that moment with me, meeting my daughter. She was never his. And this time… honestly, I was kind of afraid I would resent you being here.”

“Resent me like… being present at all?”

“I’ve never been someone’s wife. I’ve never had a partner the way you are. Just… people who interfere, Landon, Stig…  failures as parents… I was a little afraid the baby would be born and I would just want him in my arms and everyone to go away, even you.”

Jungkook swallowed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had similar fears but it was terrifying to hear Isabella admit them. She’d fought so hard to protect and raise her children, and he’d never done this before, he fully expected his bumbling might make her defensive.

“But seeing you hold him, it feels the same as if I’m holding him,” she said. “There’s nowhere in the world our kids are safer than with you.”

Relief flooded Jungkook’s body.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Koo. Labor sucks and I couldn’t have done this again without you.”

“You seemed to do just fine,” he mumbled, abashed by her affection.

“I know I didn’t want much touching but… but you were here. And you listened when I said something and you nearly shoved that elderly couple out of the elevator so I could get in–”

“I thought you were going to have the baby in the hall,” he chuckled. “They thought so too, everyone was jumping out of the way.”

“I almost did!”

“It went faster than I thought it would.”

“Me too. My perineum isn’t happy about it.”

“Ah, the tearing…”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“I’ll still eat there all the same but–”

“Jungkook!”

“We’ll wait until you’re all healed up and then I’ll take care of things,” he assured her, overjoyed by her scandalized glare. 

“You just watched a child emerge from my vagina. I would think that’d cool your engines for a while–”

“No way. You’re so cool, Bella.”

“Here, take him.”

“Oh do you need–”

“No, just you hold him now. I bet he won’t even wake up, he’s so out. Maybe he’s going to be a heavy sleeper like you.”

“Is that bad?” he asked.

“Having a baby who sleeps well would be the greatest blessing.” He was barely listening to her because she’d started to drag the baby towards him, the whole little burrito. At the last second Jungkook recalled all the conversation about skin to skin and yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it away.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh… they said that uh, skin to skin with dad is–”

“You’re so cute,” she grinned, and dumped the baby burrito onto his chest. He was so warm Jungkook thought he must still have a fever though the nurse’s said the fever was gone. His hands and feet were now a healthy pink that Jungkook hadn’t even known to hope for. 

He adjusted the little one against his chest –who, as Isabella suspected, barely stirred. His face rubbed against Jungkook’s pec and for a second he thought the baby was rooting and would wake up, but he just relaxed and slumbered on. 

“What a lucky baby to have two parents with big tits,” Isabella mused.

“I’ll scream if he goes for my nipple.”

“Count on it.”

Jungkook’s laugh trailed off. He was too mesmerized. Dark hair peeked out from beneath the cap, feathery soft over little skin rolls at the back of his neck. He wasn’t swaddled, just draped with a blanket, his little body curled up like he’d probably been inside Isabella. He was so, so new, so fresh. Jungkook knew within weeks, months, years this baby was going to turn into a little person but it was hard to believe right now. Jungkook slid his thumb into the little fist, long papery fingernails barely a scratch against his skin. He had that feeling again he’d had earlier: I am complete, my family is complete. I’ve been waiting for you and now everything is good.

“Maybe we should have let Ezra and Lily skip school so they could come sooner,” Jungkook said. “It feels wrong they haven’t met him yet.”

“They’ll meet him soon and have every day with him. Enjoy the quiet now.”

“That’s true… I just miss them…”

“What are we going to introduce him by?”

“What do you mean?”

“What should we name him, Jungkook,” she snickered, and kissed his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head, briefly again distracted by how amazing she was to have delivered a fucking baby and now just be hanging out talking to him like it was no big deal. She hadn’t even cried. He’d cried from constipated shits before and now she was asking him what they should name this baby she had made?

“We had that list of names.”

“You choose.”

“What?!”

“You pick his name,” she said again. “As long as it’s not something I hate. No Wolf.”

“But you gave birth…”

“And you’re his dad. I got to name our first two.”

Jungkook studied the little face pressed to his chest. He tried to fit a name to this person, but how? Nothing fit. He was a brand new baby, a blank slate. There was no personality yet to tag a name onto, only a little potato with a head of dark hair and a history of scaring the shit out of his parents from the first minute.

But there actually was a name on the list that had seemed familiar to him from the moment he’d written it down. Isabella had not seemed to react any particular way to it, but she hadn’t struck it out, and he’d been almost afraid to point it again in case she didn’t like it. He wasn’t sure where he’d even heard it, it had just lodged in his brain.

“Kai,” he said.

“Kai?” she repeated. “Kai Jeon?”

“It sounds cool, right?” he asked hopefully. 

“It sounds like a manga character,” she said, then grinned. “The protagonist. I like it.”

“Really?”

“Ezra, Lily, and Kai. It sounds good together.”

“Yeah, I thought so too!”

“So you’ve thought about this.”

“I just liked the name… OK, and what about Ronin for the middle name? The ronin were samurais who no longer served a master or family, only themselves… kind of like wandering knights… That’s cool, right? Ah, too geeky?”

“Kai Ronin Jeon sounds cool.”

“And it’s kind of like Ezra Ryan and Lily Eleanor… and Kai Ronin… it sounds good, like you said.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Hi, Kai. You are going to have a way easier time learning to spell your name than I did so you’re welcome,” Jungkook murmured, patting the little cushy diapered butt. “Kai.” He felt a joy course through him. Yes, the name was right, he felt it in his heart. The baby was right. The family was right. The woman was definitely right.

He wanted to say that, to tell her how much this meant to him, to tell her that he recognized the miracle it had taken for them to be together like this and married and having a baby, and that she had done most of the work. He wanted to tell her he would never take this for granted, that she’d been willing to do it all one more time with him even though the last times had been so hard for her.

What came out was, “Hey I look pretty good for a dad of three, huh?”

“If you weren’t holding him, I would push you off the bed.”

“You look banging as a mom of three–”

“Jungkook–”

“Your tits are…” He trailed off, realizing they were definitely getting bigger. He’d know. He studied them carefully.

“Yeah, I think my milk is coming in faster this time, so he better have an appetite. I can’t believe he’s over nine pounds…”

“Yeah, is that good?”

“It’s big.”

“Is it? I don’t know baby sizes. He seems bigger than my nieces and nephews were.”

“It’s big.”

“He’s strong,” Jungkook decided.

“I think it’s mostly his head. He got your head.”

“Wha? I have a normal sized head.”

“Tell that to my fourteen stitches.”

“Is it really fourteen?!”

“I don’t know, I made that up, I wasn’t listening –he’s awake.”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped immediately down to the little face, to the little dark eyes cracking open. His brow and mouth were scrunched, making him look very grumpy to get woken up.

“Oh hey look at that scowl, he’s definitely yours, Bella–”

“I swear to god, Jungkook.”

“Ah, I think he’s doing that breathing thing again,” Jungkook frowned as the baby began to breathe with his whole chest again. “I’ll give him to you to nurse and get a nurse to check him again.”

“You think we should?” Isabella asked and Jungkook was floored by the question, by the way she looked up at him, by the trust he felt from her. She was the one who’d had babies before! But she was relying on him as the father to help make sure their baby was ok. That Kai was ok.

“Yeah. I’d rather check too much and annoy the nurses than wait too long if he needs oxygen, right? I’m sure he’s fine but I’ll get the nurse.” He felt puffed up with the responsibility of it as he gently eased Kai over to Isabella. Kai let out a cry of complaint, just a little single yowl, and Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat.

“You like me already, huh?”

“Your tits are better,” Isabella teased.

“Definitely not true, sugar butt. I’ll be back.” He said it just to get her huff of annoyance at the saccharine pet name. Good. He loved Isabella grumpy with affection. He loved her needing him and trusting him and pulling him close when it would be so easy for her to push him away in her exhaustion and fear over their baby. 

He hadn’t felt like it wasn’t true, but he felt for sure now that they were in this together. Maybe that was partly where the sense of completeness came from, not just from holding Kai and feeling like his family was complete, but this bone-deep proof now that he was Isabella’s –to have, to hold, to rely on– in a way he thought he never could be.

He went off to bother the nurses again, gladly, because there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his wife and kids.

*

Isabella felt it too: that connection, that worry, that relief, that wholeness. 

Kai would be all right, she believed it because she had to, and because he had his daddy to take over when Isabella couldn’t. It didn’t matter if Jungkook didn’t come into this with the parenting history she did. He was Kai’s dad, and he wouldn’t quit until he got it right, until Kai had whatever he needed –just like he had with Ezra, and Lily, and Isabella. 

Kai was perfect, just as both her other children had been. She had the most wonderful children in the world, and any of her fears that blending a family would be hard vanished when she held Kai. He belonged here, and Ezra and Lily would feel it too, just like they had with Jungkook even before she did. 

Jungkook came back, chatting animatedly with the nurse. He’d been up all night with her once the labor pains started, trailing her like a duckling as she paced the house, timing them because she was impatient and couldn’t remember to do it, bringing her ice water, keeping his distance when she said she needed space, jumping to her side when she needed someone to lean on.

“I think Kai needs a new diaper,” she shared as Jungkook and the nurse reached her. She peeked in the back of the diaper to confirm because these early meconium poops were odorless and easy, but she’d sensed it in the way he had just curled and relaxed. She was right. Maybe some of this baby stuff would come back to her, more easily than she had feared. 

Jungkook stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles, then beamed, “All right, let’s get diaper duty started, huh? We’re going to ease into this, right, Kai? Start me off with some non-threatening stuff, yeah?”

Jungkook’s gasps of horror at the tarry stools a moment later had Isabella suppressing the laughter, her body too sore for this kind of thing. 

God, every time she didn’t think she could possibly love Jungkook anymore than she already did, she found she could. 

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

There are more Amended drabbles on my masterlist or read the main story here

#dad jungkook #stepdad jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook fanart #jeon jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #jk x oc #jk fanfic #amended #bts dad au

[kitorin]

2:59 am - Isagi Yoichi

kind of a part two to this, but can be read as a standalone!

Horror movies are cool.

The plots were fascinating, the acting and CGI were equally captivating. The problem was that they were scary.

It's obvious that they would be, that's the whole point; to evoke thrill and to trigger chemical reactions to simulate what it'd be like to be in danger. But Yoichi can't handle that well. Barely.

He loved all movies nights with you regardless of the genre, wrapped up together with a thick blanket, hours spent staring at the laptop with intrigue. Horror movies were no different since he was with you.

Even if it's a situation that physically cannot happen, like ghost stories or tales of the supernatural, for some reason he now suddenly believes that they exist.

Yoichi knows better than anyone else that he's always been a crybaby, bursting out into tears at the mere change in weather, or whenever his dad changed the channel to anything that wasn't soccer. He even started crying when he was watching his friend play Minecraft, and an Enderman teleported out of nowhere while screeching. Roblox horror games terrified him as a child, and his parents couldn't 'boo!' him because it'd always result in inconsolable bawling. It was obvious that jump scares was never his cup of tea.

But to be this affected, was almost embarrassing.

The clock's about to strike 3 am, the time that's dubbed as devil's hour. Yoichi doesn't even know why it's labelled as that, yet he's still paranoid something will happen, in the middle of your hallway.

There's a light on, for the sake of your younger siblings to feel a bit safer. Yoichi can't believe he's taking comfort in something that was implemented for a literal child to overcome their fear of the dark.

Just don't look left and right, focus on wherever's got light.

If he was thirsty he always could've waited for morning to come, but using the bathroom was a completely different story.

It's not his fault the premise of so many horror movies involved a dark corridor, and a grotesque entity emerging out of nowhere from the shadows. It's a miracle how you're able to sleep peacefully after a whole night of watching horror movie after horror movie.

Yoichi takes a deep breath, quickly striding from the restroom to yours. With a sigh of relief he gently closes the door, ready to join you to sleep again.

"Yocchan?" A groggy voice calls out to him.

He shrieks, loudly, it's so out of character considering his level headed and confident demeanor on field.

An awkward silence fills the room, as he realizes, it was just you.

God please kill me now, is the first thing that comes to mind.

You owlishly blink, still dazed from just awaking from your slumber. "Calm down, you'll wake up my siblings." You groan and yawn. "Did something happen?"

"No, you just surprised me there. Thought you were sleeping." Good, now please pass out so he'll never have to think of this moment again.

"Liar."

"It's true."

"You're a professional soccer player, you've been able to beat that German dude who's the best striker in your age group, and you're scared of me speaking?"

At this point he was praying you'd pass out right at this moment and forget about this by the time morning comes.

"I'm just madly in love with you to the point than anything you do makes me want to scream." It's an embarrassing truth, but far from a lie. "C'mon, you need to sleep, we stayed up really late."

You jokingly scoff. "Fine."

He slowly walks over to your bed, tightly wrapping his lean arms around you, hiding from his irrational frights. When you turn off the night light he's paranoid again, grip around you strengthening.

"Yocchan."

"Yes love?"

"You're clinging onto me, really tightly."

He gulps a bit, weakening his arms. "Sorry." He buries his face into your neck instead, still scared of his own thoughts. Only a few more hours til the sun rises and the day starts, he only has to endure this for a bit more, all he has to do is pass out and he'll be okay.

"You're trembling." You mumble as you're about to doze off. "Are you cold? I'll get you a hoodie and another blanket just in case-" You barely get up before Yoichi pulls you back into bed.

"No, tonight was just scary." No point in hiding it now. "Just stay. Please. I keep thinking that stupid doll from that one movie will appear."

"Idiot." You locked him into your embrace again. " You should've told me, I don't even like horror that much, I just didn't want to watch them alone." Your fingers reach towards his face to give his cheeks a firm yet gentle pinch.

"First you pretend you're good with chili at the noodle place now this?" His mouth almost burns at the mention and thought of the memory. Sure he couldn't handle it and was turning red, but they still tasted amazing and it was worth seeing you enjoy yours.

"Yes yes, I know I'm stupid. Stupidly in love with you." It's cheesy yet it still makes you grin. "I wanna sleep now. G'night. I love you."

He knows he shouldn't go overboard and do the things he doesn't synergise with well just because you like them. But anything's worth it if it's with you, he'll eventually recover from having too much chili and one day he'll be able to sit through a jump scare without his soul leaving his body.

"I love you too." You mumble in response, smile tugging at your lips and feeling the warmth of his proximity.

With the comfort of you and your words, and how the blanket engulfed you two, any intrusive thoughts remaining in Yoichi's mind dissipated that night; though your siblings still can't comprehend why and how that scream happened last night; and who did it.

Tagging : @kiyumiya

#this is kinda messy + unproofread but oh well #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #fluff #isagi yoichi blue lock #isagi yoichi #bllk isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x y/n #isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi yoichi x you #isagi yoichi imagines #isagi yoichi fluff #fanfic #yoichi isagi x you #yoichi isagi

[tree-obsession]

HSR and Scars+other physical trauma marks HCs

I haven't seen anyone do this yet, but lmk plz if someone has!

Minor spoilers for main plot

Arlan- scars in a lot of places, implied that he could fight as a child and was poor, canonically has a prosthetic arm (at least I think, but works as hc too) and scars on his arm and nose at least. likely has more, esp on arms since using a greatsword doesnt give great defensibility and his moveset involves cutting HP(judging by the animation, using electricity, so electricity scars too? are those called lichtenberg scars?). he's short, and again the childhood implications mean he was probably malnourished.

Asta- probably minor things from working with untested equipment, and has likely burned her hands with her own powers- but, since she's a noble, she's likely expected to be neat, so idk. I like the burn idea tho.

Bailu- she's a healer, so I think what she does get she can get rid of too. But maybe her dragon tail has unhealed bits from failed assassination attempts, or smth?

Blade- canonically has scars basically everywhere. literally got tortured for a really long time, had home planet destroyed as a child and likely didn't get out unscathed (we NEED to talk abt that more), was a forge worker (burns) and did fight on occasion as Yingxing, and then was on the run for about 1000 years or something, and canonically died even more during that time. also has a skillset that involves cutting his own hp. likely doesn't have to eat, but he's unhealthily skinny because of it anyway. chronic pain. somebody give this guy a hug please.

Bronya- she's a soldier, so callouses, blade scars, bullet scars, emergency first-aid scars, and probably desensitized to cold more than the average human bc belobog. really high disregard for pain that concerns seele on a regular basis.

Clara- her. her feet. are they ok. but also some scars from working with mechs and being in the cold, but svarog made sure nothing too major happened while she was in his care. before, though... likely got beat up for being a "pushover" (im crying plz).

dan heng-... chain scars. we NEED to talk about the fact he spent most of his life chained up in prison with guards and people who hated him (minus jing yuan). probably none of the guards would have stopped some of the more violent ones from getting physical- how else would he tear his clothes that much? probably wasn't fed enough or allowed to exercise much. and the chains- listen, i know we joke about the light cone a lot(honestly why was that specifically made into the light cone) but that was really how he lived for a long time. the desc even said he "writhed" and "gasped for breath". he definitely has huge scars from rubbing skin raw around his wrists, ankles, stomach, and maybe his neck? his arms are definitely majorly scarred over and stuff from this, and probably his ankles+legs too. also his eyesight is probably shit from the dark, unless Vidyadhara magic somehow helped that.

bonus: there is a fic on ao3 called "you're looking into their eyes (and find you're looking into your own)" by robyndoesntlikeyou that deals with dan heng having scars that i only found after drafting this post. plz rec any more fics you have on this...

Fu Xuan- i really don't know for her. probably small ones that wouldn't have scarred, but she saw them as unimportant and didn't treat them...

Gepard- similar to Bronya, but maybe not as many since he's a shielder, but more of the lack of cold sensitivity? he's on the front lines lots

Guinaifen- burn scars on forearm and hands. probably can't feel much on her hands too. idk her lore but she's a street performer, so probably not always enough money for food.

Herta- we basically know nothing about her! seriously, she's so mysterious, and her character stories are vague about her past. i can't think of anything, but maybe there were some more dangerous experiments?

Himeko- considering she rebuilt the Astral Express, there were probably dangerous components involved there somewhere... and her backstory still seems pretty mysterious

Hook- diggertron probs caused burns, and life in the underground is dangerous- plus, moles could apparently go to the fight club? which seems like an issue

Jing Yuan- he's a general- lots of war scars. and probs lighting burns because he summons that entire lightning lord/chronic pain.

Jingliu- she definitely has a lot- i'm pretty sure she's the oldest of the hcq, and also got mara-struck/ fought in wars and was on the run and exiled for a long while. canonically constantly in pain due to mara. also really, really needs a hug, except the only person she would probs let hug her is baiheng, who is dead! and also she isolated herself and tortured yingxing/blade. hcq enjoyers are in literally so much pain.

Kafka- would have a lot of callouses, but idk about where scars would be. she would probs cover them up to avoid drawing attention (as she is an assassin), but idrk where exactly. she seems really sneaky, and considering she has no fear there's no reason for her to hesitate in battle. maybe scars on arms from electricity or stray bullets?

Luka- canon that he has scars from wrestling and stuff.

luocha- again, he would probably just heal whatever scars he did get. i really don't know for him, sry ):.

lynx- most calloused hands ever and even more of a weird cold tolerance than others because she's an explorer. probably just doesn't have feeling in some places. and there are probs scars somewhere from when she ran into fragmentum beasts but she's also a healer so...

march 7th- from careless accidents, sure- dropping glasses and stuff, maybe from a few close fights. but her body was wiped like her memories, plus she's a shielder and archer, which is code for not in the thick of the fight and not taking much damage herself, although she has been careless a few times. also, bowstring burns.

natasha- again, she would heal it. but has chronic pain from lugging around that heavy gun and due to age- i think she's in 50s? she's a respected person, and raised seele in the orphanage, but i dont think there's an official age.

pela- cold resistance. maybe some scars from mechanical accidents? and also there were likely some attacks right after she was born since so many of her mother's coworkers were killed.

Qingque- she's clumsy, so accident scars- breaking glass, falling down too many stairs, etc.

sampo- cold res! and probably some close calls since he's such a rat and has enemies, so most scars are on his stomach.

seele- again, growing up in the underworld was tough, so fighting rings + orphanage scraps + street fights, plus some malnourishment since she often gave her food to smaller kids and ran all the errands. was always a fight-first person, but cares a lot and so would protect automatically. has scars all over- many knife ones, some bullet or burns, and electric ones from fixing up mechs.

serval- electric ones from when she was just starting to fight with the guitar. do i need to keep saying cold resistance for the Jarilo-vi ppl?

Silver Wolf- definitely got some, but can aether hacking erase them? either way i doubt she would actually care enough to try unless she was really bored. but also has terrible eyesight, even by punklorde standards. idrk where her scars would be, so spread out mby?

sushang- spent her entire life training and canonically is brawns over brains, so probs more than a few. also her sword is heavy so she probs had some accidents. mostly on her arms and stomach.

tingyun- probs some from people blowing up amicassador ships, since they want to interrupt peace talks and things- but she's fast and experienced.

topaz- had bad lungs, but had a surgery after getting promoted to fix them. some burns on her hands and her sense of smell is a bit screwed up, so numby is often her compass for that (i love numby SO MUCH)

trailblazer- massive scar from getting stabbed through. none from before game started, since apparently they're a puppet. i think they would heal faster, but messily because of that, so a bunch of smaller scars on their torso, face and forearms.

welt- lots and lots from soldier time, especially from debris and the honkai energy probably has some kind of physical drawback. hands are a bit screwed up too, and gets a lot of chronic pain.

yanqing- what the heck is his family history? will it become relevant later? kind of curious how that may affect these hcs, but hands are super calloused and while he often doesn't retain major injuries, he'll only care for them if jing yuan tells him to, so a bunch of smaller scars just from that. mostly on his arms and hands and neck (ppl probs try to stab there often...)

yukong- so many- was huge in the war, so lots of bullet scars and maybe even some that were previously mara-infected and made worse. hearing is shot, uses hearing aids in her fox ears. a bit irrelevant but she is totally awesome.

#hsr #honkai star rail #honkai #arlan #asta #bailu #blade #bronya #clara #dan heng #imbibitor lunae #fu xuan #hsr headcanons #gepard #guinaifen #herta #himeko #hook #jing yuan #kafka #jingliu #luka #luocha #lynx #march #march 7th #natasha #pela #qingque #sampo

[finnickyslut]

More of the Truth-warping Cattonquick au because I have to get it out.

Oliver's sisters

His older sister is 29 and the younger one 26. They're both booksmart like Oliver (one studied law and the other psychiatry) and very close to each other. They grew upper-middle class. The older one has a cushy job as a barrister and the younger one is still studying. They both live in London.

They live close enough to Oxford that the older one volunteered to be added to his emergency contacts list when Paula started fussing about her baby so far away from home (the Quicks were chuffed). When Oliver privately asked about appointing her primary contact she was moved but alarmed.

They never lived together and saw him only a handful of times a year. This became even less as they grew older, using their studies as an excuse. They were tepid at best whenever Paula and Oliver were involved, and not much warmer about Jeff. Paula didn't want Jeff to pressure them and risk alienating them even more. Jeff himself was a fool for his daughters.

They saw Oliver as a bother and "that slag's child" for a long time, even if they knew he wasn't really at fault for anything. Never wanted anything to do with him until they were both uni age. (12-14 y.o. Oliver)

Several things coalesced around that time, including an incident where Oliver got his arm scar, their mother happily remarrying, them finally having certain conversations with her and each other... Mostly just maturity.

Although they apologized to him and actively started trying, they had their own lives and Oliver was too wary by then and still hasn't truly opened up. All the same, they did connect, mostly through their love for literature, drive, their feelings about Jeff and Paula, and later when the girls advised him regarding uni and career choices. They each have scheduled calls with him at least once a month.

(Oliver will never tell, but it was a conversation with them about "making your own opportunities" that led to him puncturing Felix's tire)

Oliver has incredibly conflicting feelings about his sisters. He admires, resents and envies them. He appreciates their sustained effort to connect and make things up to him, but he can't fully trust it. He can't bring himself to think of them as his sisters neither give them up. He realizes they were kids too but is bitter about getting the short end of the stick.

All three siblings share dimples, wavy hair, a pale complexion and impressive lashes. (Felix feels shivers at the hospital seeing Oliver's gaze on his older sister's face.)

His sisters gifted him his necklace and a few other things once they started trying to get close (other gifts include tutoring for uni exam preparations, some favorite books, a nice shirt that he has since outgrown, a fancy scarf and gloves, tickets to a play...).

He keeps most of the physical ones in a box, tells himself he just can't throw presents away or his parents would ask (Just the once, he ripped apart a book in a fit, ended up crying like a baby, desperately trying to put it back together)

The girls have a good amount of correct suspicions about Oliver's mental problems. They have tried to have "general" conversations around mental health and therapy but anytime things got too close to home he shut down and deflected. Given he seems high-functioning they've focused on showing they're non-judgmental/a safe space and learning how to be a good support system.

They know from experience that talking to Oliver's parents about any of this would be counterproductive.

Oliver was originally planning on spending part of the summer with them to avoid home. They were looking forward to it but were happy for him once they'd asked around and checked Felix Catton was a real, non-psycho person who actually hung out with their baby brother.

#saltburn #cattonquick #Truth-warping Cattonquick au

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober day 22

"They never saw us coming, 'til they hit the floor" / Glass Shard / Vehicular Accident / "Watch out"

*Ring, zzzzz, Ring Ring*

Caretaker looked up at his phone, then the clock.

"Who could be calling at 12am?", Caretaker yawned.

The phone rang again.

"This better be good, waking me up." He answered.

"Hello this is Officer Petey, might I be talking to someone named Caretaker?", the voice of a young man came through with a lot of chaos in the background.

"Yes this is Caretaker, uh how can I help you officer", Caretaker straightened up.

"I apologize for disturbing you tonight. You are an emergency contact for a person, I should say a family who was involved in a really bad car accident tonight", the officer explained, "the Reeves Family."

Caretaker's heart sunk, "yes they are close friends."

"Yes, I am sorry, but Mr and Mrs. Reeves passed away due to injuries sustained by the accident. Their child Casey has sustained injuries as well but is otherwise in stable condition. They are absolutely terrified though. A brain injury has left them blind. They don't trust anyone to get close enough to them."

Caretaker was already jumping out of bed to get dressed.

"Are you close to the child enough were you could talk to them over the phone at least. Maybe a familiar voice will help settle them down. They won't let the doctors do anything else to them. They are covered in glass shards."

"Are they at a hospital? I can be there in a few minutes", Caretaker grabbed his keys.

"That's not necessary, we..."

"I've already got my keys, tell me where I need to go, I'm not letting Casey be by themself", Caretaker rushed out to their car, "which hospital?"

Caretaker rushed to Casey's side.

"Hey Casey, it's just me", Caretaker quietly stepped into the medical room.

"Caretaker?", Casey gasped, "is, is that you", they started to cry, "my parents are..."

"Shhh, I know. I'm here now. You're not going to be alone", Caretaker wrapped Casey into a gentle hug trying to not touch any glass, they didn't want to press it into Casey's skin, "everything is going to be okay. We need to let the doctors look you over though, is that okay?"

Casey nodded, "I'm scared, I can't see."

"I'm right here, I will not leave you", Caretaker took Casey's hand, "the doctor is going to come and start working on you, okay? If you get scared, just squeeze my hand, okay."

The doctor and nurse went to work, removing the glass, plus other care they weren't previously able to do. They lifted Casey up to get some scans.

"Ow, ow, ow", Casey winced from the movements.

"Whats going on", Caretaker looked at them with concern.

"My-my back", Casey winced again.

Caretaker looked at the doctor.

"We are doing a full body scan. If something is there, we'll see it", the doctor stated.

Caretaker waited from outside of the room while the scan was done. They had talked to the police and got more information about the accident.

"I know I'm on their will in case anything did happen, I am the one who is supposed to take on care for Casey", Caretaker peaked into the room to see how it was going, "their father had everything set up just in case. He said his father died early and left them nothing. He didn't want to do the same to Casey. I didn't expect this though."

"I will begin checking on that information, we will hopefully have everything done by the time they are released", the officer looked at them sadly, "I'm sorry you had to be called like this."

"It's not a problem", Caretaker sighed, "I'm glad I was notified, I wouldn't have wanted them to be alone."

Later back in the room, Caretaker sat beside Casey while they slept. They watched the gentle rise and fall of their chest.

It was still to late in the night to call anyone to start working on Casey's care planning, and future. He'd have to wait.

The doctor stepped in, and asked to speak with Caretaker.

"I'm not seeing anything to concerning, there is some definite bruising around the ribs, but nothing is broken or abnormal. I'll have a nurse come in at some time to walk with them and make sure they aren't paralyzed or having difficulty."

"Is there any answer to the blindness?", Caretaker asked.

"I sent the images to a specialist along with the chart, I saw something in the scans, but I want their opinion", the doctor sighed, "their office will call you for an appointment once they look at them, I've been told by the police you were the legal guardian for now."

"Yes, I know it hasn't been finalized just yet, I'll be talking to the lawyers in the morning and get that going."

"Caretaker?", Casey called.

"I'm right here, just one minute Casey. I'm talking with the doctor", Caretaker sighed, "is there any idea on how long they will be here?"

"I would like to monitor them tomorrow and make sure ever they are okay, maybe the following day if all is well", the Doctor glanced into the room, "I'm sorry, I'll be back to check on them in a few."

In the morning Caretaker worked to figure out the will with his lawyer, everything checked out. The judge even signed over guardianship for Casey that morning due to the circumstances, they wanted everything done quickly for the child's sake.

As promised, Casey was released shortly after. Caretaker stopped by Casey's house to gather a few items. They'd return later to get everything else.

Now was the wait.

Caretaker carried a sleeping Casey into their house and laid them in the guest bed.

Caretaker watched Casey jump up in their sleep.

"Don't worry Casey, I'm here", Caretaker gently whispered, "I'm here."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #no.2 #theres been an accident #car accident #oc #writing #medical whump #whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whumpee #whump #whump scenario #whumper #caretaking

[livingfast04]

Steddie Hogwarts Au?

I need someone to take the internet away from me. I have massive writers block, but my brain also has this stupid- stupid idea I don't have the energy to write between My two WIPs- but god. My Non-binary ass is truly trying my own patience at this point. The massive urge, to write a Steddie Hogwarts Au??? (Fuck JK Rowling) But it's- like, not through the years, and it literally doesn't involve the actual cast of HP, because fuck that- that's boring. Yeah Dark wizards, but more like Dark forces kind of thing. Tw: Child abuse, child death (unnamed child)

Anyway- Stevie- Born into a very rich, pureblood family- all Slytherin's or Ravenclaw's. At least on his father's side, his mother is French and she went to Beauxbatons- Steve's got a, King Steve thing going on- Quidditch chaser, and he's good at it. He's the top of his class in Charms but not really anywhere else, and he's is a perfect. (so I'm thinking 6th year-) He's the third year and under "whisper" the younger years flock to him, it's on the down low. But he's really good with kids. Crying because of Tests? You miss your Parents? Steve's got you, just quietly and out of the way. Eddie is a half-blood, father is a muggle, and his Mom is a Witch. Her line of families jumps from houses to houses, no real lineage to uphold. Wayne was a Gryffindor. (That's not important to the story, but it's important to me) Eddie is the guy to go to if you are in need of something. He'll walk you to class if someone bothering you, he still stands on the Tables in the great hall at Lunch. It's a commonly know thing that if anyone needs anything that Eddie will help without asking too may questions. No matter what house. As long as you aren't a bully. (there is asshole tax, but he respects the grind) Steve is a Slytherin (Hang in there with me please. I promise I'm not a lunatic) Eddie is a Gryffindor (That's a brave boy, he's a reckless boy, and a man with a lot of courage.) I haven't fully figured out the like semantics, lore and general details- because I'm desperately trying to refrain from writing anything. But I'd say 5th or 6th year- (6th or 7th for Eddie) Steve's brutality attacked. It's in a Muggle Village within a few hours of walking of the Harrington Manor- and Steve goes down there when he needs to get out that house, with a pocket full of Muggle Currency and no Wand. When his Dad is pissed off and not above hexing or cursing his own kid. When his Mother is passed out drunk in the sitting room. He always gets the same thing, Hot Chocolate from the little family owned Café that's better than any house Elf could ever make- The Woman and her wife adore Steve and he hasn't had to pay since he was 7. He always leaves the amount in the tip jar. Walks to the candy store two fronts down, and buys whatever the little group of kids pressing their hands all over the window out front whatever they want with what's left over in his pockets. Like he always does. Might be The Party, might be just a group of Muggle children. It's not even a magical attack. It's not an attempt to kill the heir to an incredibly wealthy house. It's just some muggles who took offense to Steve's and a group of little kids existence. However it does maul up half of his face, his ribs and his hands. The blunt force trauma of the attack leaves him with little of his hearing left. The assault almost kills him. (Despite his attempts to keep the angry attention all on him. It does kill a little boy, Steve sees his head split open on the pavement every time he so much as blinks.) He doesn't talk much either after. Little things, yes or no- but that's about it. And that's far in-between. He won't tell anyone what actually happened, or at least can't. Anyone who wants the story has to get it from the Muggles who looked on in Horror- and the man who called emergency services. Both his parents had already written him off as useless before- but not even more so.

When he returns to Hogwarts for the School Year, he's basically been abandoned and shunned by the rest of the pureblood peers in his house and in the other houses. His friend group wasn't restricted to one house, but all of them leave him when it's clear he's a shell of a human being and can't use him to further themselves in Wixen society. not when he can hardly hear and refuses to talk. They come back to school, and Steve ends up "The Outcast" A worse Fate than Eddie "The Freak" Munson. It doesn't help that Hargrove who before hadn't liked Steve but they had the same friends- but they kept mostly to themselves- just steps to kick the dog while it's down. Tells Steve loudly, and aggressively that his "Pretty face and pretty words couldn't save him. He was taking his crown." Pushes him around, mocks him, all but bodily removes him from their compartment on the Train. It hurts more when no ones says anything about it. A lot of the kids from years previous are unnerved by his appearance, and the next set of first years are terrified of him. And that's only the Train ride, the carriage ride (he can see the thestrals now), and Welcome Feast. By the time they get down to the Dungeon and under the lake to the common room- The Castle refused to let him in. He's left stranded in the chilled hallway, and no one cares. He doesn't know where his trunk is, his things, and his Cat even are. Steve bathes in the Perfects bathrooms as is his right with his position, Sleeps in fits. In History of Magic, and sometimes empty classrooms between his classes, and homework. Uses quick cleaning charms on the robes he wore when he first arrived. Steve see's it as his atonement for letting that little boy die. Eddie's actually the one to notice somethings far more wrong that Steve just being traumatized. The younger boy was completely withdrawn and almost totally ostracized from his house and no matter how many other students attempt to reach out. Eddie watches as they are all treated with a almost hostile kind of fear. Slytherin and Gryffindor share History of magic. 5th, 6th and 7th years took it together, (staffing issues) so Eddie watched more than once as Steve's pale, scarred up face- develop even deeper bruises under his eyes. It's a sudden thought, one that he makes on his own and without talking to anyone about it- not even thinking to owl his Uncle for advice. That he was going to befriend Steve Harrington, and make sure the dude actually got some fucking sleep. It takes weeks, Eddie walks him to and from Classes whether the younger boy wants him to or not when he realizes that, the reason there's been a lack of bullying in the younger student body is because almost everyone has been targeting Steve. He keeps a notebook within that he only ever uses to talk to Steve with. Takes in stride every single little giggle he can pry out of the others lips. He celebrates Steve making noise in response to him talking in the privacy of his dorm room. Steve sits with him at lunch, and sometimes breakfast if he can find the boy before classes start. He's a strike of green among Red. The Gryffindor's take to Steve slowly but fall in line with Eddie glaring over his shoulder.

Gareth tells him that he's Harrington's guard dog one day, and Eddie takes that in stride too. Steve needs a guard dog with the way Hargrove looks like he wants the brunette 6 feet under. It's halfway through October when Eddie realizes that Steve can't get into his own common room. He beats himself up over it for the rest of the year too- because he notices that there's a roughly done patch on Steve's robes sleeve- and Eddie hates that it takes him almost a week to recognize the same spot. See, Eddie made the patch. Because it was Eddie's fault that Steve ripped a hole in his robe anyway. They'd been walking along the edge of the Forbidden forest, Eddie talking, Steve laughing. (he was pretty, with or without the scars- Eddie was all but tripping over himself to see that smile. No matter how weak it was) Steve had tripped, because Eddie had knocked their shoulders together. Ripped up his robes, and scrapped up his arm. Eddie was quick to clean that up first, he hadn't liked the way Shell Steve had come back at the sight of the blood covering his skin. Eddie took the cloak when they parted ways at the Great Hall after dinner. Steve had been hesitant, but handed it over. He returned in after staying up for far too long with a patch of soft green cloth. Eddie knows he could have repaired it with magic- but, there was something in watching Steve's whole face light up at the sight of it. At first- Eddie had just thought Steve had just really liked the patch, that Eddie had fixed it. But then the weekend came, and he realized for the first time. That he hadn't seen Steve out of uniform the entire time so far. And that the washing day had passed and Steve was still wearing the same clothes. He waited a week, the same. Eddie had no idea what he was supposed to do. Steve clearly wasn't being either allowed in the common room, didn't have extra clothes- But, other signs pointed to other things. That Steve couldn't get in the common room. Broken quills, lack of notebooks, the change of clothes- the same robes. How he always slept in History of Magic when Eddie knows before that the other didn't. They'd shared the same class for awhile now. Eddie hates, hates that he doesn't bring it up to Steve- but he knows enough now that Steve would just ignore him on the subject, and blow him off and hide for weeks. it had happened about something before- So Eddie went to his Head of house for the first time since 1st year.

Steve's pulled from all classes for two weeks, he's not even on the castle grounds. Eddie looked, and Eddie asked. When Steve comes back, he looks a little healthier, and he comes back in Hufflepuff yellow. Eddie smiles wide when he slips onto the bench at his elbow, stares at the new soft looking sweater under his robes, and the pants with yellow thread. His eyes find the green patch on the sleeve. Leans over and presses a kiss to the youngers temple. It doesn't magically get better. Steve still doesn't talk, he talks some now, short sentences 2 or 3 words at most. (his longest so far is 6 words and Eddie kissed him on the nose for that one, right on a scar). But only with Eddie, and eventually with Robin- a girl in Hufflepuff who attaches herself at Steve's hip and declares herself his bestfriend. They don't start officially dating until just after Yule either. Eddie kisses him in the middle of the Great Hall after Steve gives him the biggest laugh he's heard out of the other since the beginning of the year. There's bad days, and worst days, but the good days- the good days make it worth it. School is hard, on both of them. Its harder when Steve returns from Yule with less words than when he left. It's hard when Steve sometimes finds himself sleeping in empty classrooms out of mindless habit. It's hard when sometimes all Steve can think about is drowning, can see the boy whose name he doesn't know, but his body he can never unsee. It's hard when Eddie graduates. It's hard for the both of them knowing that Steve will have to go back just one more time. Steve Stays with Eddie and Wayne over the summer between his own 6th and 7th year- only goes back to his parents the first week and arrives on their doorstep at 12 in the morning with tears running down his face, his trunk and cat in hands and never goes back. Eddie works in a small bookstore, and Steve joins him when he finally graduates. They both learn Sign Language, for days when Steve is completely non-verbal, and because it's easier on his brain. And Eddie loves him.

--- I clearly thought about this far more, than I had wanted to. And Now that I've written it down I have even MORE Ideas. This was counter productive to my plans of just spitting out the idea. I was just- "Traumatize Steve Harrington who doesn't fit in his house anymore and the castle just pushing him out- and Steve seeing that as a "this is what you deserve for failing to protect a child who didn't deserve to die- this is what you deserve for not being fast enough, for being too stupid to bring your wand-" and not as a. "This house won't help you in your journey anymore," but when has magic ever been like, straight forwards. And then ofc Eddie's here. :)"

This was far longer than I thought it was, I'm so sorry- I'm emotionally invested in this Au now- Damnit.

#steddie #steve harrington whump #steve x eddie #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things au #Hogwarts au #hoh steve harrington #stranger things magic au #liv is losing their mind #hurt steve harrington #I am mean to my favorite okay- #steve harrington #eddie musnon #steveddie #Eddie munson whump #selective mute steve harrington

[ectstasy]

Always You

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴘᴀʀᴋ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ʜɪɢʜꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴀᴜ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ:3ᴋ

There was a  event for high school students to volunteer in, aiming to enhance their records, particularly for the kids who wanted a higher chance to get into their desired college. The event involved setting up a carnival and assisting elementary students throughout the day. Y/N, one of the  students participating, was initially assigned to greet the children and guide them around the carnival. However, her role quickly changed due to an emergency involving a student having to leave the event. Y/N was suddenly entrusted with the responsibility of ensuring everything went smoothly. She had to assign tasks to the volunteers, prevent any mishaps, and find solutions if anything went wrong. Reluctantly, she accepted the role, knowing there was no one else who can take on the role. 

As she walked around, Y/N  monitored the progress, making sure everything aligned with the plan. Her attention was caught when she spotted Hyunjin, her cousin. She couldn't help but feel surprised to see him volunteering. "Hyunjin? You're here, volunteering at a kid's place?" she exclaimed, needing confirmation. Hyunjin responded, "Well, no shit Sherlock. My grades are terrible, and I need something to help me graduate." He looked at her as if she were the dumbest person alive. Y/N nodded, recalling the incident when Hyunjin unintentionally made a child cry due to his attitude. "But a place where you take care of kids? There were other options available," she remarked, expressing her concern. 

Hyunjin shrugged off her comment, stating, "Well, I won't even be interacting with any kids. I'm assigned to this guy," he gestured towards the dog. Y/N raised an eyebrow, studying the list in her hand. "Oh, I see. You're an entertainer! Just make sure the dog doesn't shed any tears before he decides to nip at your fingers," she teased. Hyunjin scoffed, and petted the dog affectionately. "Don't worry your self. I'll be fine." He said causing Y/N to smile. "Okay don't get yourself into too much trouble. I'll be back." 

Adjacent to Hyunjin's station stood an exceptionally attractive man whom Y/N had never seen before. He was in charge of the Mario Kart game. She quickly searched the list to find his name, which was revealed as "Park Seonghwa." Confirming his identity, she smiled and said, "Seonghwa, right?" He nodded in response with a small smile. "Alright! Here," she said, retrieving two smaller bags from her carry-on. "Give the kids who win the full-sized candy, and the ones who lose, the medium-sized." Seonghwa took the two bags and then placed it on the table behind him. "Okay. Got you." He said. She then told him she would be back to check up on him. 

True to her word, Y/N returned to Seonghwa after thirty minutes, only to be taken aback by the sight before her. Seonghwa was seamlessly managing both the Mario Kart game and the task of entertaining the kids with the help of Bruno, the dog. The dog appeared as if he was falling completely for Seonghwa's charms and obeying his every command. Y/N hurried over to him, her curiosity piqued. She asked where Hyunjin had gone, and Seonghwa replied, "He went to the bathroom." 

Realizing that Seonghwa couldn't handle both tasks, Y/N immediately offered her assistance. "Let me help you. It's too much for one person," she insisted. Seonghwa agreed, saying, "Okay, you handle Mario Kart. It turns out I'm better with dogs than I thought." He winked at Y/N, causing a warm, fuzzy feeling to flutter in her stomach.

Y/N  guided the children through the Mario Kart game, providing assistance whenever they were confused about its various elements. She gave out the candies to the kids with a sense of joy she had never experienced before. She was happy to see the kids so happy to receive the prizes. Y/N always thought she was terrible with kids, but this day seemed to prove her thinking as a misconception. 

The children adored her, their eyes filled with admiration as they gathered around Y/N. Eunhee, one of the girls, couldn't contain her excitement, "Thank you, Y/N! You're so pretty! I hope to be just like you one day." Nodding in agreement, the other kids showered Y/N with compliments.

Y/N smiled as she knelt down to Eunhee's level. "You don't need to be like me, Eunhee. Just be yourself, because you are beautiful just the way you are," she said, her voice filled with  encouragement. "That goes for all of you guys too!" Y/N said as she looked at all of the kids surrounding her. Eunhee's face lit up with joy and gratitude. "Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, before happily skipping off with her friends.

Seonghwa, observing the heartfelt interaction smiled to himself. The sight of Y/N uplifting the children's spirits and instilling confidence in them brought easily brought smile to his face. 

As the place emptied out and the last child left, Y/N leaned back against the game machine, feeling tired from the excitement of the day. Seonghwa noticed her fatigue and commented, "You did a fantastic job. The kids genuinely adored you." He then began picking up discarded wrappers scattered across the floor.

Y/N smiled gratefully at him. "You were amazing too. Juggling two jobs for fifteen minutes was truly impressive," she complimented, her words bringing a small smile to Seonghwa's face. 

"You're beautiful and you're kind. That's truly impressive." 

Y/N was taken aback at Seonghwa's compliment. It sounded so genuine that it caused her cheeks were tinted with a red hue. As she processed what he said her voice got stuck in her throat.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin returned from the bathroom  only to find Y/N looking up with Seonghwa with "that look" . A mischievous smirk formed on his face as he observed the two. "I wouldn't be surprised if those two ended up together. Look at her face," he whispered to himself as he grinned watching the two engage in conversation afterwards.

Present time:

She ran faster than she had ever before to avoid missing the bus to work. The consequences of missing it would be dire. She dreaded facing her boss's potential anger if she arrived late once again this week. The bus engine started, indicating that she was about to miss it, but luckily, the kind bus driver waited and even opened the door for her. It was a rare act of kindness in bustling New York City, where doors often shut in her face, even when she barely made it on time. This time, however, was different. She scanned her card and found a seat towards the back of the bus. A car would've been such an easy solution to this if Y/N didn't fear the idea of driving. She looked at her phone and saw she had 17 minutes left to reach work, or she would be considered late.

As the bus continued its journey, Y/N stared out the window, sighting people walking on the side walks, stands with people selling varieties of items with clothing and foods, and people even sitting around the benches. As she looked, Y/N couldn't help but notice a crying little boy. He appeared stranded in the middle of the sidewalk, with everyone passing him by without a second thought.  Y/N immediately got a bad feeling about leaving the boy there. Y/N sighed heavily,  knowing she was unable to leave him there. Glancing at her phone, she realized she had 15 minutes remaining before she had to be at work. Determined, she put her phone away and pressed the button, giving the bus  a signal to stop at the next stop. When the bus came to a halt, she quickly ran backward through the crowd, searching for the boy. Thankfully, he was still in the same spot where she had seen him from the bus. Kneeling down to meet his eye level, she asked, "Honey, what's wrong?" The boy looked at her with glistening eyes and replied, "I don't know where my dad went. I don't know where my babysitter is either."

Y/N silently thanked the heavens that she had decided to stop and help the child. He clearly was lost and had no idea what to do. 

Giving him a sweet smile Y/N asked him. 

"What's your name love?" He then introduced himself as Sunghoon. "Do you have any information about your daddy that could help me find him?" she inquired. The boy shook his head, indicating that he didn't. "I don't want to leave you here. Would you like to come with me to that store over there? Or is that too scary?" she asked. The boy shook his head and pleaded innocently, "I want to go inside, please." Y/N nodded and walked into the grocery store, holding the boy's hand.

 As Y/N conversed with one of the store workers, searching for a solution, a man suddenly burst into the store. "Sunghoon?!??" he called out urgently, yet not too loudly. Sunghoon immediately recognized his father's voice and raced towards him. "Daddy!!" he exclaimed, embracing his father tightly. "I'm so sorry! The babysitter's brother is in the hospital and she had to leave baby. Are you okay?!?!" Y/N turned around, her face went into shock as she laid eyes on the man who embraced the child. "Park Seonghwa???!" she questioned, a sense of disbelief washing over her. It was her high school first love, miraculously reentering her life.

Seonghwa was equally astonished to see her, a brilliant smile illuminating his face. "Y/N?? It's been an eternity since I last saw you. How have you been?" he asked, his smile being filled with warmth. "I...I'm doing well!" she responded, realizing that even after almost 9 years, nothing had changed about him. His smile remained as captivating as ever. "Dad!! She's really nice! She was trying to help me find you!" Sunghoon exclaimed. Seonghwa's smile widened even further upon hearing Sunghoon's words. It sparked a memory for Y/N. Curiosity taking hold, she asked, "How did you know the exact location to find us so quickly?" He then revealed the pendant that adorned Sunghoon's necklace. "I installed a tracking device here. It alerts me where he is at all times."

Fascinated by the device, Y/N nodded in awe. Glancing at the time once more, she realized with a sinking feeling that she was now 19 minutes late for work. "Oh great," she muttered under her breath. Seonghwa noticed the stress etched on her face and immediately inquired, "What's wrong?" She sighed and replied, "I'm really late for work, and my boss tends to be difficult when I'm late." A pang of guilt washed over Seonghwa. "Please, let me take you out to dinner or something. It's my way of showing gratitude and catching up with you," he said sincerely. Y/N hesitated, not wanting to accept a reward for simply doing the right thing, but the desire to reconnect with Seonghwa overcame her hesitations. "Do you need a ride, or are you still afraid of driving?"  Her face was again filled with shock upon hearing his words. "You actually remembered that??" she exclaimed, disbelief coloring her tone. "I remember quite a few things about you," he replied, reaching for his phone. "Put your number in so we can discuss a time for me to pick you up." She nodded, entering her phone number and saving her contact in his phone. "Are you still up for me giving you a ride?" he asked. She shook her head. "It's okay. I'll just skip work and call in an emergency. I live only four minutes away," she explained, oblivious to the disappointment that flickered across Seonghwa's face. Seonghwa nodded as he prepared to leave. "See you tonight, Y/N." She returned his smile and said, "See you tonight, Hwa."

As she walked, a wave of regret washed over her for not accepting the ride. However, she needed a little time alone to process the feelings that she thought had faded away since high school graduation. After all, Seonghwa had a child, which likely meant he had a wife. She now had to think of him as a normal person and not as someone she had once fell in love with.

It was precisely 7:38, and Seonghwa impatiently waited outside, his anticipation palpable. Y/N stole a quick, self-assured glance at herself in the mirror before confidently stepping out. Seonghwa reclined peacefully in his car, but his gaze immediately fixated on her, completely captivated by her presence. She adorned an exquisite beige floral dress, its long, flowing fabric adding an ethereal allure to her appearance. As she gracefully entered the car, Seonghwa's eyes sparkled with delight. "You have a nice car," she remarked, her admiration evident from the moment she got in. A warm smile graced his lips as he ignited the engine, signaling their readiness to embark on their journey.

As they began to drive, curiosity overwhelmed Y/N, prompting her to inquire about Sunghoon and his mother. The question elicited a hearty laugh from Seonghwa. "Sunghoon is doing splendidly, although I can't say the same for his mother," he replied, briefly glancing at her shocked expression. Chuckling at the sight, he refocused his attention on the road. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Y/N hastily apologized, her remorse evident. Seonghwa simply shrugged, dismissing her concerns. "Don't be."

Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Y/N delved deeper into the matter. "What exactly happened?!" A bittersweet smile crept onto Seonghwa's face as he recollected the painful memory. "Well, the woman presented me with an ultimatum: either I allowed her to have an abortion or I put Sunghoon up for adoption, or I could stay with her. I chose Sunghoon because if she truly loved me, she wouldn't have given me such a heart-wrenching choice." Understandingly, Y/N nodded in empathy. "Sunghoon is truly a gem. How old is he?" she inquired, her mouth slightly agape in astonishment. "He's 7. I had him while I was in college," Seonghwa replied.

Seonghwa's eyes widened in utter disbelief upon hearing her confession. "You mean to tell me that no man has ever piqued your interest?" Y/N pondered his question carefully, her mind retracing the memories of countless encounters. Unapologetically, she admitted that nobody had ever managed to leave a lasting impression, except for the man seated beside her in that very car. The weight of her unspoken feelings burdened her, as she recalled the fear of potential rejection that had held her back before. Summoning her courage, she finally confessed, "Honestly, Seonghwa... you're the only person who has ever stirred something within me." The revelation hung heavily in the air, catching Seonghwa completely off guard.

Seonghwa's curiosity piqued, and he couldn't help but inquire further. "Really? No one has ever interested you?" With a surge of bravery, Y/N decided to reveal the truth. "Seonghwa, let me share something with you. You want to know something funny?" Seonghwa nodded, his eyes locked onto hers, waiting for her to continue. "You're the only person I've ever found truly intriguing." His shock was evident, and he searched for a suitable place to park. They ended up in the parking lot of an ice cream parlor, where Seonghwa turned to face Y/N. "Repeat what you just said," he requested, needing confirmation. Y/N blushed, her gaze averting to the ground. "I used to have strong feelings for you, Seonghwa. I liked you, a lot." His eyes widened further, processing her words.

Gently, Seonghwa caressed her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "That makes me sad," he admitted, his voice filled with a tinge of regret. Confusion clouded her expression. "What? You didn't want someone like me liking you?" He shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. "No, it's not that. I'm sad because you said 'used to'." Her chuckle resonated through the car. "Is that a confession?" she teased. Seonghwa's smile grew wider. "Maybe." The atmosphere between them soon changed, and he leaned in closer, causing her to freeze in her seat. His voice was a breathy whisper as he asked, "Do you still like me?" His question escaped from his lips in a soft, whispered tone. "Maybe." She grinned, causing Seonghwa to roll his eyes playfully. "Turning my own words against me," he remarked, prompting laughter from both of them. "I never stopped having feelings for you."

"Want to hear something funny?"

"I never stopped having feelings for you either."

"You have feelings for me???" She questioned, her disbelief evident.

"Who wouldn't, Y/N? You're truly the most enchanting person I've ever encountered. Your kindness, your compassion, your willingness to lend a help. You're beautiful both inside and out, and that's exactly what I've always desired in a person."

"When I saw you back at that grocery a couple hours ago, I realized, it's always been you Y/N. Nobody ever made me feel this way in the past 9 years."

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson at his unexpected confession. In a bold move, she climbed over to the driver's seat, straddling Seonghwa. With a surge of courage, she leaned in and their lips met, sharing a fiery and passionate kiss. When they finally pulled away, they locked eyes, a profound silence enveloping them. Breaking the silence, Seonghwa spoke with a smile. "So, can I still take you out to dinner?" She nodded, a smile gracing her face, and hurried back to the passenger's seat.

"Sunghoon would be thrilled to hear about this. He couldn't stop talking about you all day," she giggled in response.

"Awe, are you already planning to go home and tell him that I'm your girlfriend?" She teased, a smirk creeping on her lips. 

"Are you my girlfriend?"

She smiled, leaning back in her seat. "Only if you want me to be."

"Then you are my girlfriend," he declared, a look of pure happiness in his eyes.

As she watched him drive, a contented smile played on her lips. The unexpected circumstances that brought them back together filled her with joy. It had always been him, the one who sparked a flame of passion within her. Since parting ways, she had never been able to love someone the way she loved him. It had always been Seonghwa, and it always would be.

#ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez imagines #fanfic

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [6]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, but with like immediate follow up comfort, medical trauma? if you’ve ever been blown off by a doctor in the office and that frustrated you then be forewarned

Word Count: 5,119

Summary: When  you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a   Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child.   However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous  night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left.  Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned  out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you  fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears  its ugly  head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #06: TRIKAR’LA, BUIR!    

Chapter Summary: Grogu goes to the doctor, and the Marshal decides he might need to murder said doctor. You get comforted by your boys.

 "Watch carefully,

 the magic that occurs,

 when you give a person,

 just enough comfort,

 to be themselves."

 - a t t i c u s

Nevarro didn’t have a large hospital. It had an emergency center and a clinic for routine appointments. Anything that couldn’t be healed or cared for within a day got transported to a nearby settlement on a neighboring world. Luckily, the transport time wasn’t very long, and Nima told you that the travel there wasn’t intense. The High Magistrate had worked out a deal to keep it that way.

Coming from a Level One Trauma Center on Coruscant, the office was shockingly puny. A simple two story building with emergency services on the first floor and routine medical care on the second. You had learned ages ago that the size of a medical center didn’t correlate to the kind of care a patient could receive. Some of the best physicians you’ve worked with came from smaller hospitals. You had no criticism there. The only thing that made you nervous was not having the kind of resources a Level One hospital would have. Coruscant had spoiled you in that sense.

For what had to be the hundredth time since leaving the station, you glanced over at Mando who walked right beside you. He held Grogu in his arms casually chatting with the boy. Grogu responded in a mix of Mando’a, Basic, and gibberish. It was painfully cute watching the Mandalorian interact with his son. Every inch of him screamed danger and intimidation, but the tender voice leaving his helmet’s modulator was nothing but soft and loving.

“Is something wrong?”

It took you a second to realize Mando was talking to you. “Hmm?”

“You keep looking over at me.”

You were getting pretty decent at reading Mando’s body language, and weirdly you could tell the difference between his head tilts. All of that, yet you still had a bad gauge on how far he could see out of his peripherals while wearing the helmet.

“Oh, er,” You scrambled for a response, “No. Nothing. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just checking on you.”

You opened your mouth but stopped yourself when you realized you were about to apologize for apologizing. Instead, you tried to steer the conversation away from your staring. “Do you know how many doctors work in Nevarro?”

“Not enough.” Mando replied. “Three rotate on the schedule right now, I think. Karga is still trying to recruit more, but until Nevarro really makes a name for itself it’s a hard sell.”

“It’s pretty impressive so far.” You motioned around to the clean and cheerful street surrounding you. “And growing fast.”

Mando nodded and your lips curled up in a smile as you watched him allow Grogu to crawl onto his shoulder and cling to his helmet. He kept one hand up just in case the child slipped. “Yes, but as always, it comes down to credits. Karga spent a lot to get this place built up. Doctors are expensive.”

“True, but if you’re gonna spend credits anywhere healthcare is a good bet.” You shrugged. “There are doctors out there who’ll take less pay to work somewhere rural. I⏤” You stopped yourself and at the sudden halt Mando glanced your way. You had nearly told him you once considered working in a rural setting. It hadn’t crossed your mind in ages, since before the incident, but you didn't think twice before nearly blurting it out. You cleared your throat. “I knew someone. From the clinic I worked in. They were specifically looking for a job somewhere rural.”

Mando nodded. “Maybe you should send their frequency number to Karga.” You forced out an awkward chuckle. “For now though, we have Bacta and cautery. You could probably find e-bacta if you asked the right people.”

“Spoken like a true bounty hunter.” You teased.

Mando let out a laugh and began to wrestle Grogu from the makeshift jungle gym of his shoulders and helmet. The clinic had come into view and you felt a ball of nervous energy begin to form in your chest. This wouldn’t be your first time in a medical facility since that night, but it would be your first time going willingly. All this morning, you hadn’t thought about it. You didn’t think this would bother you at all, but staring at the building now your mouth was becoming dry and your palms clammy.

The weight of a hand on your shoulder startled you, and your head snapped to the side to see Mando facing you. Nothing about his helmet looked concerning, but you could feel the worry radiating from him. “I’ve been calling your name. You didn’t answer.” Grogu hummed in his arms and tilted his head. “Are you sure everything is okay, cyar’ika?”

“Yes. Just...zoned out.” You tried to find an excuse, but nothing was coming to mind. So, you went for the next best thing. Topic change. “What does that word mean?”

“What?”

“The word you called me. Uh, ‘shar ekah’?” You repeated it best you could, but the word was always spoken so swift and softly that it was hard to remember the exact pronunciation. Saying ‘buir’ had been much easier.

Mando’s hand fell from your shoulder and his entire body went tense. You furrowed your eyebrows at his reaction. He let out a soft cough, and now it seemed like he was the one searching for something to say. Your distraction had been successful. However, now you were very curious as to what he was calling you. Mando didn’t seem like the type to secretly be calling you ‘dumbass’ all the time.

“It’s nearly 2.” He blurted. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Right!” You nodded. As curious as you were, you’d happily accept any advancement of this moment. Anything to avoid him asking you what was wrong again. He passed you to enter the building and you took in one last shaky breath before following.

The clinic’s waiting room was filled with children. This office saw patients of all ages, but with school starting up next week it seemed most families were doing exactly as Din was⏤ getting his child ready for day one. The schedule was running late so despite it being nearly half an hour past the appointment time, Din sat in the waiting room right beside you. Grogu had wiggled out of his lap to run around the room with other kids around his age. It made him nervous at first. He wanted his son to have friends to have fun to not ever feel left out, but the anxiety of him not fitting in was painful. You had reassured him that everything was fine, and you had been right. Grogu squealed and laughed as he played with three other kids.

Din was leaning back in his seat, hands clasped over his abdomen and ankles crossed, in an attempt to look as casual as he possibly could. The truth was the opposite. Din couldn’t stop peering out of the corner of his eyes at you. Luckily, the helmet made it a lot easier for him to hide his actions unlike you. Din was still worried about you. It was obvious something was making you uncomfortable, and he had been determined to get to the bottom of it. Until, of course, you innocently asked what ‘cyar’ika’ meant. That had thrown him.

The first time he called you ‘cyar’ika’ it had been entirely accidental. You had been hesitant about asking him questions about himself, and he didn’t want you to feel that way. In his reassurance the word had just slipped out. Since then, it fell out a lot more. Often by choice. Din liked the way it sounded when he was referring to you with it. He liked that every time it left his lips, you’d turn to give him attention with your pretty smile.

Technically, the answer shouldn’t be embarrassing to him. The best translation of ‘cyar’ika’ was ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’, but that didn’t necessarily mean it had to be used in a romantic setting alone. It was a generalized term of endearment. He could’ve said that. Din’s problem was that he knew, deep down, he didn’t feel just a ‘generalized endearment’ for you. Din was much too attracted to you to pretend it was said with any other connotation.

His panic hadn’t helped his situation. Din spent his entire life being trained for a fight. He was taught from a young age that panic led to mistakes and mistakes led to death or worse. It had been ingrained into every single cell of his body to the point where staying calm was a muscle memory for him. It didn’t take a conscious decision. It was his default, and that default was half the reason he was so successful as a bounty hunter. Despite all of that, all it took was one innocent look from you⏤ one simple question⏤ and he melted into a pathetic puddle.

Din glanced your way again. You sat ramrod straight in your seat, shoulders tense, and your fingers were tangled together in a vice grip. He wasn’t sure how you weren’t hurting yourself holding your hands together like that. Whereas his entire body sat casual, though a farce, yours screamed stress. His own hands came unclasped as the urge to touch you in reassurance overcame him. Din managed to resist and instead crossed his arms in hopes that this position would better control his instinct.

“I haven’t been to a doctors office in a while.” You blurted. The sound of your voice had his head snap to look at you in a nearly comical speed. You were watching Grogu play while you spoke in a whisper. “I guess I’m just nervous. It’s stupid.”

“How you feel is never stupid.” Din replied. He shifted so he sat up rather than leaned back. “You didn’t have to come with us. If I had known—”

You chuckled, “I know. You wouldn’t have made me. I think you might be a little too understanding for a boss.” Din swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. That was true. Kriff, if you knew any of the thoughts he had you’d consider him the worst boss in this world— maybe in the entire Outer Rim. “I wanted to be here. For Grogu and— and you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Din disagreed. You were acting against an active fear you had for him and his son. That meant a lot to him. He knew the kind of strength it took to press onward into a setting of discomfort.

“Can I ask why?” Din asked. “Why haven’t you been to a clinic in a while?”

You shrugged and your gaze drifted down to your hands which you began to wring together. Din stayed silent. He was content with giving you all the time in the world to respond. Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze. You smiled and your words came out jokingly, “Nobody likes doctors.”

“Still important to go now and then.”

“Uh huh.” You tilted your head at him, smile growing impish. “And when’s the last time you saw a doctor? Mr. Big Bad Bounty Hunter?”

Din’s lips curled up in amusement. He loved that you were comfortable enough to joke with and tease him. He shook his head. “I have bacta and a cautery at home. Those don’t require me to sit in a waiting room for 45 minutes.”

“Fair point.” You chuckled. “Bacta and cautery do have their own faults, you know.”

“Like?” Din asked. He didn’t really care about the faults of either, but if this distracted you from your nerves he’d play along. Plus, the sound of your voice was like music to his ears. He’d sit and listen to you read the instruction manual for a caf machine without complaint.

“Well,” You began, your shoulders beginning to relax, “Bacta is incredible. No doubt. Society called it a medical miracle and they weren’t wrong. It’s only as good as the person using it though. If the wound isn’t cleaned right or debris is left inside when the Bacta is applied then everything gets trapped inside as your tissue heals. Plus, if it’s already an internal issue Bacta can’t target that. It does nothing for fever control or symptom management.” Din could tell you were getting into the conversation because you twisted in your seat to face him. “If you use Bacta on a fracture, but you don’t set it right then it heals wrong. If you mess up the measurements in a Bacta tank or the settings are wrong it can ‘overheal’ a person which just means a person’s tissues and cells rejuvenate and are reborn so fast that it floods the body. Those excess cells wreck havoc and turn to tumors wherever they land.” Din let his eyes shamelessly trace your features. This was the first topic, other than Grogu, that he had seen you get so excited about. You pointed at him with a mocking grin, “And don’t get me started on a cautery gun.”

Din chuckled, “And what exactly is wrong with my cautery gun?”

“You’re essentially creating a wound to fix a different wound.” You scoffed. “It’s great for stemming blood loss and destroying infected tissue, but between infections and scarring⏤”

Din leaned toward you, a confident tilt to his head, “I’ve never had a cautery induced infection.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

You twisted your lips, amused, and he shifted so he was as close to you as he could manage in the separate chairs. You shook your head. “Fine. You, Marshal Mando, are the one exception of the system. Congratulations.”

Din let out a breathy laugh, and he wondered what it would sound like to hear his name spoken in your voice. The beeping of his communicator made you alter your position in the chair so you were back to where you had started. Din did the same and resisted muttering the curse words bouncing around in his head. Looking at the screen he saw it was Cara. Dank farrik. She’d only call if it were actually important.

He accepted the call and Cara started talking without preamble.

“Mando, we got pirates. Mayfeld and I are on our way to the tarmac where a group of them are causing trouble, but Karga said a few were spotted by the school.”

This time he didn’t hold back the curse that came to mind. Din turned to look at you and you gave him a reassuring nod. “Go.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Din stood.

“We’ll probably still be in here.” You motioned to the waiting room.

Din reached out to squeeze your shoulder and on his way out told Grogu to behave.

Kriffing pirates.

Mando had been an excellent distraction. You had never been a fan of pirates at baseline, they were always the worst to deal with when they stumbled into the hospital in Coruscant, but now you really hated them. You tried to focus on Grogu who was still playing with a different set of kids as the ones he had been with before got called back to be seen. Before they left, you had actually exchanged a few frequency numbers to set up play dates at some point.

“Grogu?” A nurse poked her head out of a door.

He dropped the blocks he was holding to perk up at the sound of his name. Still in a playful and active mood, Grogu wanted to walk on his own rather than be held so you walked by his side as you both followed behind the nurse.

She went about taking vitals and getting some more information before leading you back to a simple room. You sat down in one of the two chairs in the corner, by the exam table, and let Grogu bounce around the room to burn off his excess energy.

“You are gonna sleep so good tonight.” You chuckled.

“No sleep. No.” Grogu chirped. “No, no.”

That was quickly becoming one of the kid’s favorite Basic words to use. You glanced up at the clock on the wall to see it was about an hour after your appointment time. Understaffed clinics got backed up, it happened, and you understood that better than most. You felt bad for the poor physician running around the office today. You were actually hoping you’d have to wait a bit longer though.

Mando wanted to be here for this, to be here for his son, and you hated that the damned pirates got in the way of that. If you could swap roles with him and handle the pirates so he could stay here with his son you would’ve. Unfortunately, that would’ve been messy for every single person involved. You didn’t have an extensive history doing well in a fight, and the only kind of blade you knew how to use was a scalpel. You’d never even held a blaster before.

“Skraan!” Grogu called out.

You shook your head. “We just ate lunch, buddy. I think we have some snacks left.” You dug around the baby bag you had packed for the day and found the container of star shaped cereal puffs you had put together this morning. “Here we go.”

Grogu bounced over to you happily and held his hands up to you. You dropped a few stars into his palms and watched him eat them one by one. He’d explored the room while eating the stars and would only return back to you for more stars. That became the routine for the next ten minutes and by then you were out of star shaped snacks.

A knock at the door startled you. “Come in!” You placed the container into the bag and motioned for Grogu to come sit on your lap. “Hi. I’m⏤”

“This is Grogu?” The man interrupted your introduction. He was older, you’d guess in his late sixties or early seventies, and was human. Thick gray hair covered his head and it matched the thick mustache above his lips.

“Yes. We’re here for⏤”

“Let’s see, school registration check up.” He read off the holopad in his hand. You shifted in your seat, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, and bit back a snarky reply. “We’ll get some blood for lab work, give the usual booster shots, and get you on your way, yeah?”

You held Grogu’s hands, skeptical, “I was actually hoping⏤”

“There’s no need for⏤”

“Please stop interrupting me.” You snapped. There was nothing you hated more than not being able to get a thought out. Maybe you’d have more patience for it if you hadn’t spent all your training being looked down at for being a young woman. You couldn’t count the number of bloated attendings you worked under who were just like the man in front of you. The doctor stayed silent but you could see annoyance on his features. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When you came in, you never introduced yourself.” You said but paused before saying more. This wasn’t a hospital you had any sort of credentialing in. That meant if you wanted anything done, you were gonna have to stroke an ego. You cleared your throat and shook your head. “Sorry, I’m sure it slipped your mind with how busy you are today. I bet they have you running all over the place.”

The man chuckled. “You aren’t wrong. My name is Dr. Daelar. I am sorry about the wait time. I was caught in a different procedure room for the last hour doing a cryoablation of some skin lesions.” You resisted the urge to scoff. Doing cryoablation correctly took five minutes tops. Doing it insanely, incorrectly could maybe stretch it out to ten. You didn’t appreciate the excuse because you knew it was a lie. “As I was saying, we’ll draw some blood and get those booster shots going.”

“Thank you. We’re actually going to be forgoing the blood tests, and I was hoping you’d take a listen to his lungs.” You replied. Over lunch, Mando had explained that he wasn’t comfortable with anybody drawing blood from Grogu. He hadn’t explained the exact reasoning, but you gathered it was something from their tricky past. Even with your back to him, you could tell the topic made him mildly uncomfortable. “He’s had this night time cough I’ve noticed⏤”

Daelar shook his head. “That’s not wise. I strongly recommend the blood tests.”

“Okay.” You drew the word out. “Thank you, and I appreciate your thoughts on the matter⏤”

“These aren’t my thoughts, these are the facts.” Daelar interrupted again. “Blood work should be checked routinely for chronic illnesses. He needs this done.”

You didn’t know if Grogu could tell that you were in a bad mood, but he began to squirm and whine in your lap. He turned around and pushed up on his tip toes so he could bury his face into the crook of your neck. You scooped him up to hold him closer making the action easier.

“I understand the benefits of routine lab work, and I understand the risks of refusing.” You said as calmly as you could. If this was about legal issues then you’d say the magic words that he could type in his chart and waive all liability off himself. “That being said, we’re still refusing a blood draw today.”

Daelar scoffed and shook his head. “You’re being unreasonable. As a first time mom it’s understandable to be nervous and jittery, but it’s no reason to put your son at risk.”

Oh, you really didn’t like this man. Karga had somehow managed to hire a physician that represented everything wrong with healthcare. Nice. Between the bullying and assumptions, that would be enough to piss you off alone. Add the stress of being in a clinic after so long? You really had no chance of getting out of this without losing your cool.

“You’re not drawing labs on Grogu.” You snapped.

Daelar shook his head and shrugged. “Then I don’t know if I can clear him to start school.”

“Blood work isn’t necessary for school registration. Just the boosters.” Your voice began to raise.

“Ma’am⏤” He began once more but a solid knock at the door interrupted the interaction. A nurse poked her head in one second later and Daelar snapped at her. “We’re busy in here.”

“Sorry, sir. The child’s father is here.”

Daelar smirked at you. “Good. Perhaps, this will settle the matter at hand.”

The nurse slid out of the room and was replaced by Mando. You took in the sight of him, unharmed and unmarred, and a wave of relief washed over you. If dealing with the pirates had led to a fire fight then Mando came away with no obvious injuries. Mando’s helmet tilted just a bit and you could feel his eyes on you in the same way you had looked over him. His shoulders stiffened marginally, his stance still intimidating, and you wondered if your anger was notable. You rubbed Grogu’s back soothingly.

“Oh. Marshal!” Daelar greeted. “I had no idea this was your son. I⏤”

“What’s wrong?” Mando walked over to stand beside you, ignoring Daelar entirely. He rubbed Grogu’s head and let his hand trail from his son’s head to rest on your upper back. The way he stood beside your seat nearly blocked Daelar from your view.

You lifted your chin to stare up at the T-shaped visor. “Dr. Daelar has been adamant about a blood draw despite my very clear refusal.”

Mando turned around and his hands drifted to his hips. Daelar shifted awkwardly from across the room and he let out a cough. The doctor held his hands up with a smile, “No, I think this is simply a misunderstanding.” Your eyes widened, jaw falling open. “The little Mrs," Again with the assumptions, “She misunderstood me is all. I was simply offering my recommendation, but obviously the decision falls to your hands at the end of the day. We can just work on the boosters and finish the paperwork for registration.”

A disbelieving guffaw left your throat at the audacity of this man. Mando glanced over his shoulder down at you, and you took a sharp breath through your nose. Whatever. As long as Grogu got the care he needed. Mando looked back to Daelar.

“Have you listened to my son’s lungs?”

Daelar’s eyes widened. “Hmm? Why?”

“I know Soran would have brought it up. She’s attentive. Was there a misunderstanding about Grogu’s cough?”

“No. Not at all. Sorry.” Daelar sighed. “Bring the little guy over to the exam table.”

Without speaking, Mando held his arms out to take Grogu, and you tried to hand him over. Grogu clung to your shirt, his claws digging into the material, and he buried his face further into your neck. He grumbled, “No.” You shot Mando a look, and he reached out to help detangle Grogu from you. The little boy didn’t give in.

“Grogu.” Mando said firmly. He set a hand on his back. “Come to me, ad’ika.”

“No, no!” Grogu finally lifted his head to look at his father’s visor. He shook his head and you had to lean back to keep his ears from hitting you. Grogu whined, “Trikar’la, buir!”

Despite all the tension, despite the fact that you still only knew very, very basic Mando’a, you gasped with a swell of pride. Unable to bite back the smile you wore, you cooed. “Grogu, that was so good.” You had no idea what he said beyond referring to his father, but his words sounded like it could’ve been a full sentence. Plus, he had said it in front of Daelar, a virtual stranger. “Good job, sweetie.”

You lifted your eyes to Mando, expecting a similar reaction, but his entire frame was tense. Again, his helmet gave no signs of anger, but a seething energy radiated from him. You furrowed your brow in confusion. Grogu went back to hiding his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you, and Mando shifted his hands so one rested on your back and arm.

“Let me help you up.” Mando whispered in a kind tone. “You can sit on the exam table with him.”

“Alright.” You mumbled.

You didn’t need any help standing, but Mando kept his hands on you while you rose and all the way to the exam table. Once you sat down on the sanitation paper, Mando settled beside you. He kept his arm behind you, his hand leaning on the table by your opposite thigh. You turned to look at Mando, and because of his positioning you found yourself dangerously close to his chest. If you leaned forward you could bury your face in the crook of his neck the same way Grogu was doing to you.

His head began to turn to look at you and you quickly focused your gaze forward. Daelar came over with his stethoscope and began to listen to Grogu’s lungs. He did this for a few minutes before pulling back with a nod. Daelar cleared his throat. “I’m hearing a little wheezing. Very mild. I can prescribe a nebulizer treatment at home before he goes to bed. Hold the mask over his face and just let him breathe in the medicine.”

“Thank you.” Mando said, but his tone was more intimidating than grateful.

“I’ll send a nurse in with the boosters and the medicine.” Daelar said before rushing out of the room.

You scoffed, still in disbelief on how that had gone, but when the door closed Mando shifted so he stood directly in front of you. Now he had a hand resting on the table on either side of your thighs. You blinked in surprise at the sudden motion.

“Are you alright?” Mando asked.

You forced a chuckle. “Yeah. I mean, that guy was a total ass, but he wasn’t the first jerk I’ve dealt with. Won’t be the last.” You continued rubbing Grogu’s back, not knowing what else to do with your own hands. “Granted, I could’ve done without the gaslighting, but…” It occurred to you then that Mando hadn’t hesitated to take your side. “Thanks. For having my back, I mean.”

“Always.” Mando replied with ease. He let out a soft sigh. “I’m talking to Karga about this.”

You laughed. “You’re gonna get a doctor fired because he was rude to me?” Mando didn’t reply, but his shrug was highly unconvincing. “It’s fine.”

“He upset you. That’s not fine. Grogu said⏤”

You gasped, “Yeah! What did Grogu say?”

Mando paused before leaning back. “He said you were sad.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you glanced down to gently pull Grogu away from your chest to look at him. He stared up at you with concern in his large eyes, and you gave him a smile. “I’m okay.” You gave his head a light scratch and let your fingers trail to give his ear a light, loving tongue. “Thanks for looking out for me, little guy.”

Grogu lifted his hands toward your face so you brought it down toward him. He lightly patted your cheeks and did the same thing he did this morning⏤ pressed his forehead as close to yours as you could get it. Everyone in Nevarro showed different forms of affection to Grogu, he was too cute to not pay attention to, but the most important sign of affection was the way Mando lightly set his forehead to his. You had to assume that in Grogu’s mind, that was an important thing. The fact that he was sharing that bit of love with you was overwhelming. You tried not to linger on the thought too long this morning⏤ not wanting to fall apart⏤ but Mando being here sticking up for you without hesitation only added to the situation.

You felt yourself begin to get choked up and quickly cleared your throat.

“Here. Why don’t you go to your dad?” You held out Grogu, and Mando must have sensed your distress because he took the child with no question. You gave him a broad smile. “I⏤I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

You hopped off the exam table and as you pulled the door open Mando called out. “Are you sure you’re alright, cyar’ika?”

You let a wide smile fill your features, every bit of real, and nodded sincerely, “I am. I promise. I’m⏤ This…” Considering how grateful you felt right now, you owed him as much truth as you could give. You nodded. “This is the best I’ve felt in a really long time.”

Mando nodded once, silent. Grogu lifted a hand and gave you a small wave. You rushed out of the room and made a beeline straight for the bathroom you had passed on the way into the procedure room. Finally away from prying eyes, you leaned against the locked bathroom door and began to trace the scar along your collarbone. Even with your fingers ghosting over the ugly patch of skin, you felt happy⏤ cared for. Maker, you didn’t think you’d actually feel that way ever again.

mando’a translations:

cyar’ika: darling, sweetheart

trikar’la: sad

buir: father

#the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #star wars #reader insert #female reader #mandalorian and grogu #grogu is a little adorable shit #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #fluff #like straight rot your teeth fluff #angst #but with comfort #protective din djarin #good dad din djarin #slow burn

[callsign-joyride]

Someone To Come Home To | Bob Floyd

Summary: Time with Bob before he leaves for the mission makes you think back to a previous relationship.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader

Content warnings: Implied sex, spousal death, mentions of pregnancy/child birth/post-partum depression (it's brief), angst with a happy ending

A/N: Because this imagine talks about post-partum depression, I want you to know that you are not alone. If you're going through a crisis, call or text 9-8-8 if you live in the US or your local emergency services.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to leave a request or chat about anything.

"You okay? You've got that far off look in your eyes," you told Bob. He sighed and grabbed your hand. Moonlight poured into the room through the slghtly open curtains and the soft ticking of a clock could be heard. You had been laying together in a post sex haze for what had seemed like hours, but the time always seemed to go by different when you were with Bob.

"We leave for the mission tomorrow and it's a-,"

"Don't start that with me, Bob. You're going to make it back. Phoenix knows what she's doing."

"Yeah, I know that, but I'm scared. I know how long it took you to move on from Mike and I can't put you through that."

You were three months pregnant when you got the call that your husband had been involved in a strike down. You knew that things like these happened, but you neverthught that they would happen to you. The only thing that you could think about was the fact it seemed like the rest of your life had just begun, in good ways and bad. It took you three and a half years (almost to the day) to take your wedding ring off for good. When you went to collect his belongings, you met Bob.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, ma'am. Uh, he saved me and my partner. He loved you a lot, and if there's anything that you need, I'm here to help you."

Bob's words made you put the box of things down and cry. Your hands were shaking as you got your phone out. Bob looked confused as you opened your email and pulled up the pictures from your last ultrasound.

"I'm pregnant and I don't know what to do now. He was so happy when I told him. I would argue that he was happier then than he was on our wedding day. Of course I have support from both of our families but I've never had a baby. I've never thought about the possibility of raising this kid alone. Like, okay, I have six months until I'm due, but that doesn't feel like enough time if that makes sense?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. Tell me what you need."

"Okay. I have another scan coming up in a few weeks and I can't do it alone. Actually, I don't think I can do any of this alone but that's kind of besides the point right now."

Bob gave you his phone number when you decided that you were going to go home. The simple gesture started a years long friendship. He held your hand through the painful contractions and spoke positive affirmations in your ear as the labor and delivery nurse told you that your baby would be out with one last push.

You cried when one of the nurses placed the baby boy on your chest. He looked just like your late husband. Once you got to go home, Bob stayed with you and the baby for the first few weeks so that you could get adjusted. Even with Bob around most of the time, it felt like you couldn't bring yourself to take care of your child. That was when you got diagnosed with a case of post-partum depression. It made sense, because all you really wanted was to be with Mike, but it was still hard to deal with.

You had to practically beg Bob to take deployment. Your son was eight weeks old, and you felt like you had the means to take care of him on your own. Of course, suggesting that he take deployment didn't really end well. The two of you never argued, but you were both tired and stressed.

"I feel like I can't. I'm always in the back. It's hard not to think about what happened to Mike. I saw everything. We were all trying to tell him not to do it. He had someone to come home to, we didn't. But no, he had to do this maneuver and take all of the hits for us."

"I didn't know you until I picked up his stuff, but he did the right thing. The circumstances weren't ideal, I know that, but he was damn good at his job. And I think it's pretty safe to say that you're damn good at yours."

That sold him on taking deployment. As hard as it was to watch him leave, he always promised to come back. And he did. This was his second deployment of the relationship, and your son was nine months old. You could hear him babbling from his high chair as you sliced grapes into smaller pieces, and you smiled when you heard an engine stop, keys jingle, and the front door swing open.

"Dada!" The baby said. You knew that Bob was set to come home, but you weren't expecting that. You brought the snack over to your kid and looked at Bob. The two of you had started to laugh at what was going on.

"Good job, buddy!" Bob said. You hadn't been dating at that point, but Bob stuck to his word. He was the perfect father figure, too. You basically lived together, but it was like you were two idiots in love. You didn't want to admit it because it would mean that you were "over" Mike. Bob didn't want to admit it because it could've brought a valuable relationship to an end. But your son, who had now just turned two and didn't really know any better, really thought that you were dating.

"Would it hurt to at least give this a shot?" Bob asked you one night, after helping put your son to bed. You instantly knew what he was trying to say, and the anxiety hit you like a ton of bricks.

"I suppose not but don't mess this up. We've been through too much."

You had lucked out. Bob was mainly stationed in Lemoore, so you didn't have to move around too much. When he got called back to Top Gun was when you were worried. Top Gun was for the best of the best, and even though you knew that he was probably going to be fine, you couldn't help but worry.

"I'll always come back to you," he said. The two of you kissed before he wrapped his arms around you and you fell asleep.

#bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #angst #angst with a happy ending #robert bob floyd #x reader #reader insert #top gun maverick angst

[bluegekk0]

I hope you have a Happy New Year and I offer you a slightly angsty Pale Nightmare headcannon I have based on your latest art.

Grimm was obviously torn about PK disappearance. He was in denial and lashed out. He ends up slightly having an obsession with King Idols when visiting Hallownest, hoping that PK will maybe come back. Anything of PK's likeness breaks him. When Ghost comes around, Grimm tries not to break as they are so similar to their father. He keeps it together until the first dance as Grimm keeps on seeing his face during the dance. After the Grimmkins left, Grimm kneeled down and cried into a confused Ghost(who doesn't know PK is their father at this point, or that they remind Grimm of his old love interest). Then obviously when Grimm sees Hornet, he also breaks down. But then when PK returns he just embraces him and doesn't let go for a while.

Now I remember in a few asks that Hornet and Grimms reunion wasn't as emotional as Pk and Grimm. And I also remember that your depiction of Grimm keeps his emotions in check.

Awwwh thats so sad omg... Yeah I definitely think he was very prone to breaking down during that time. Though in his case there was no crying involved - with the way his eyes work, he's not capable of crying. And he never changed his body to make it possible since he's very adamant about keeping his emotions to himself and not showing vulnerability.

Instead, he would distance himself from others. His breakdowns were very quiet, and it would be difficult to tell it's even happening. The only clues were him not speaking at all, his hands clenched in a fist and slightly shaking, and his eyes looking very detached from reality, like he's not fully there. Though if asked about it, he would react in a pretty dismissive fashion, telling you to mind your own business, and then leaving to separate himself from others and suffer alone.

I really like the idea of him keeping certain objects that remind him of FPK. Maybe not a King's Idol, insteadI had this really adorable (and cheesy) idea of FPK giving him a little music box locket that he made, as a sign of his gratitude for Grimm always being there for him. Of course at that time it was framed as a gift from a friend to a friend (though it's very likely that FPK did do it out of subconscious feelings for him that were slowly emerging as time went on), but Grimm held it close to his heart ever since. The idea is obviously inspired by Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean, I'm not even going to pretend otherwise, I listened to his theme while thinking about Grimm for far longer than i'd like to admit. But I just really really love it. The mental image of Grimm holding it in his hand as he visits the ruins of the palace again and again, slowly losing hope that FPK will return. Him listening to the quiet tune in his moments of solitude, reminiscing of the time they spent together, and yearning for a reunion that may never happen... It's just perfect. and FPK's reaction to seeing it again after his return, realizing that Grimm kept it the entire time, and that his worries that he forgot about him had no ground to stand on after all... Augh I love thinking about it.

But back to the ask. Ghost definitely reminded him of FPK, which hit him very hard. Arriving in Hallownest for the ritual was very difficult for him in the first place, and if it wasn't for Hornet showing up to ask for help with Holly, he'd leave as soon as the ritual was finished. I'm not sure whether he actually did perform the dance with Ghost in the AU, I'm leaning towards the ritual being interrupted very early, but if it did happen then yeah, he would most certainly need a moment to himself afterwards. A very long one. though I can't see him breaking down in front of Ghost, i think he'd just excuse them and leave.

Now, seeing Hornet hit him even harder. Yes, Ghost was also the child of his love, but Hornet was the one he formed a bond with in her childhood. She was the little spider that could have been his daughter that he raised with FPK if they got together earlier, or at least that was a scenario he liked to imagine. So seeing her now, after all those years, knowing that he failed to be there for her when she needed it, it would be painful for him. And above all, she was his closest link to FPK, and a reminder of his lost love that he also wasn't there for. Though once again he wouldn't show it in front of her, and only mentioned it later down the line.

For all those years of FPK's absence Grimm was a broken mess, though he was good enough at hiding it that most of those around him didn't even realize. Well, they did notice his outbursts of anger that were far more common than they used to, but most of them probably figured it was just him having a bad day. And even if it was just over 30 years, which to a being like him is almost nothing, it certainly felt like eternity (it being such a short period relatively to his age also meant that he didn't get much time to actually process his grief). All those decades that he could've spent with his beloved Wyrm, one that was seemingly gone forever, all lost because he took things too slow and failed to be there when FPK needed him most. It's no wonder that their reunion was probably the first time he just let his emotions go free, not hiding anything and finally showing how vulnerable he truly felt. And it's why he continues to be more emotionally open in front of him to this day.

FPK really is everything to him. Is it healthy? No, probably not. But it makes sense that he would be so obsessively attached to him. And that's why i love them, they would die and kill for each other without hesitation, they're the annoying couple that won't get their hands off of one another for a second, and they're polar opposites in many ways which means they complete each other. But what connects them is that they were both lonely for most of their life, and it's that loneliness they experienced that makes them unable to imagine a reality where they're not together. It took them far too long to confess their feelings for each other, but that slow burn just makes them even more engaging to me. I just love them so much. Even if they're corny as hell

#sorry this is very long #but i'm so emotional about them #they are my everything #ask stuff #feral pk au #save #fpk #grimm

[laedback-taurus]

The Newest Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 1.9k A/n: Thank you so much for after 150 notes on both of my Tommy stories! I’m so happy people are like them. I love the idea of Tommy looking after his pregnant wife and being so gentle with her, so I decided to write about it and I’m in love with the last line.

Tommy thought that motherhood would change his wife, make you want to be more cautious and maybe even give up your side of the gangster lifestyle. Throughout your pregnancy Tommy saw a more dependant side of you emerge and then after his child was born, he quickly realised that nothing was going to change you and he was glad.

When you were a little girl and dreamt about the day, you’d find out that you were having a baby, you really didn’t picture sitting in Polly Gray’s sitting room with her hand groping your chest.

“Yep, you’re pregnant” she simply stated, finally letting go of your breast and lighting herself a cigarette.

“You’re sure?” you asked, hopeful that she was correct.

“I haven’t been wrong yet love, I just know these things” she shrugged with an exhale of smoke.

You smiled to yourself and looked down at your belly, you hadn’t shown any signs of showing yet, but you still smiled, nonetheless. You and Tommy had been trying for nearly a year now and you had come to Polly many times, suspecting you were finally with child, but you never were. You came to Polly today expecting to be let down once again, you had been sick a few times, you were still tired even after a good night’s rest and the thing that really confirmed your suspicion was during an intimate night with Tommy, he had grabbed your breasts, which he had done many times before but this time the sensitivity caused you to wince, they had never been that sensitive before.

“Tommy is going to be over the moon” Polly pointed out with a smile, happy for her nephew and his wife.

“I can’t wait to tell him” You smiled at her.

You had come home a few hours later, the afternoon sun lighting up Arrow House. You made your way through the front doors, slipping off your coat and putting it away neatly.

“Tommy? Are you home Love?” you called out, awaiting a reply.

“In here Y/n” He called out from his office in response. Your nerves suddenly kicked in at the sound of his voice, why on earth were you nervous? You knew Tommy wanted this, you had obviously been trying together, bit hard to start the baby process without his involvement. You peeked your head into his office, seeing he was alone with his paperwork. You quietly walked over to him and draped your arms over his shoulders and peaking over him at his work.

“Are you busy?” you asked softly, resting your chin on his shoulder. He picked up your left hand, softly kissing your wedding ring, something he did often.

“I always have time for you love” He smiled, spinning his chair to face you, his hands now on your hips and yours now clasped behind his neck.

You gently took one of his hands in yours and placed it upon your stomach.

“Do you have time for both of us?” you asked simply.

“What are you on about?” He asked, dumbfounded. For such an intelligent man, he wasn’t very bright at times.

You just stared at him with an expression that read ‘really?’. He looked at you, then his hand, then back at you, then his damn hand again. It was like you could see the bloody lightbulb go off in that thick head of his.

“Are you pregnant?” he asked with the most hopeful eyes you had ever seen, you just nodded, not being able to bring yourself to speak right now, the look of absolute admiration in your husbands’ eyes made you want to cry. You both stayed like that for a moment, you wondered if he was going to say anything else when he suddenly leapt out of his chair and bundled you up in his arms.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in England my love” he whispered, sincerity clear in every word

Tommy had always known he had married a strong and independent woman; he’d know you since you were children and even back then you were picking fights with boys who looked at you the wrong way or even just looked at you for a little too long. You also had a habit of doing anything to protect him despite the fact that had told you many times not to, he will never forgive himself to time you nearly took a bullet for him, he had move you out of the way just in time, the bullet just grazing you instead of doing much worse. He was worried that the same protective instinct would kick in with your child but who was he kidding, you were you and you would protect that child with your life, if anyone could get to you through him first that is, and he was determined to protect his family himself, so his wife didn’t have to.

He loved how his wife didn’t depend on him for everything, how she could take care of herself in many ways, so seeing you so dependent on him really spun him out. You were into the last few weeks of your pregnancy, and you were at a point were you could barely move, Tommy had to help you out of bed every morning, help you put on your socks and shoes, pick up anything your dropped, help you get out of any sitting position and you made him rub right back very often, stating that you were carrying his child and it was the least he could do and he couldn’t argue with that. Tommy didn’t mind though and you didn’t mind having him around all the time, he had cut back his hours drastically to look after you and prepare for the arrival of the little one any day now.

Your whole pregnancy hadn’t been too bad, of course you were uncomfortable, and you really missed sleeping on your front and hugging Tommy without a bump getting in the way, but you cherished the fact that you were carrying Tommy’s child, something you had dreamt way before you had even gotten married.

Tommy was currently sitting on the couch in his office and in quite a state of panic, he was trying to stay calm but hearing you groans, and whines of pain was tearing him up. You had gone into labour in the early hours of the morning the first thing Tommy did was call Polly. When she arrived with pretty much an entire birthing team hot on her heels, she shooed him out of the room, telling him to wait elsewhere and she find him when his child had arrived. He was about to protest when she shut the damn door in his face, he contemplated bursting in and telling her to fuck off, but he didn’t want to add to his wife’s incredible amount of stress, so he decided to leave it.

As he was downing the last of his second glass of whiskey there was a soft knock on the door, Tommy looked up to find one of the women that Polly had brought with her.

“Your wife is asking for you sir” she said softly, clearly intimated by him, who could blame her.

“Has she done it?” he asked, mentally cursing himself for the way he asked that.

“No Mr Shelby” she started “not yet”

“Is she alright? Is the baby alright?” his inner panic stated to peak through his calm exterior at the thought of his wife or child in danger.

“She refuses to continue without you there” she explained, Tommy didn’t even reply, he quickly stood up and raced to their share bedroom, if his wife wanted him there, then he was damn well going to be there. He entered the room to see his wife set up on the bed, Polly sat behind you, letting you rest against her as you tried to catch your breath.

“Thomas” Polly breathed out on relief “Here, come and take my place” she said as she helped you lean forward slightly so she could slip out from behind you. Tommy wasted no time in taking his place behind you and you wasted no time in leaning into him, instantly relaxing at his presence. He brushed away the stray hairs that clung to your sweaty forehead, placing a sweet his on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“I couldn’t do it without you” you whispered out, clearly exhausted from the hours of pain.

“it’s alright love, I’m here now” he whispered back to you, gently picking up your left hand and placing a soft kiss o you wedding ring, you smiled at the small gesture that had now become a habit of his and a reminder to you that you were his. You flipped you hand in his grip and laced your fingers with his, he gave your hand a gently squeeze.

“Alright Y/n, it’s time to get his baby out” Polly stated as she took her place bellow you, ready help guide your child into the world.

For Tommy it all happened in a blur, one minute you were screaming and crushing his hand and the next, the screams of his wife were replaced with the cries of his child. Tommy watched in absolute awe as Polly placed the newest Shelby in your arms.

“Congratulations you two, a handsome little boy” she smiled as she watched her nephew fall head over heels in love with the baby cradled softly in your arms.

“You did it” he whispered and placed another sweet kiss to your cheek this time.

“Look at what we made Tommy, out own little boy” You couldn’t believe you were finally holding your son in your arms. The three of you sat like that for ages, you and Tommy just watching your little boy when he suddenly stirred and struggled to open his eyes. You watched as he squinted slightly, his eyes adjusting to the light of his new surroundings before he found you, his mother. You realised that he had the one thing you wished he would have, his father’s beautiful blue eyes.

Tommy really did think that when you had a baby, you would settle down, that you’d stop picking fights on the streets or in the garrison, that you’d just start to ignore slimy men instead of telling them what’s what, that you’d put away your peaky cap and forget about the gangster life for yourself, but one comment you made the night your son was born made Tommy realise that wasn’t going to happen.

You were both lying in bed a few hours after your son, Charlie, was born. Polly had helped clean you up but despite it been well into the morning now, you got right back into a fresh night dress. You were lying on your side, heart full of warmth as you admire your handsome boys. Tommy had rid himself of his shirt a while ago, lying back on the bed with his head propped up slightly on a pillow and his son snuggled into his chest, sleeping peacefully while having some skin-on-skin time with his father, his head still facing his mother though. You reached out and caressed his soft little cheek with your index finger.

“Mummy is going to kill anyone that hurts you” you whispered, and Tommy just knew you were dead serious. He looked down at his son and sighed.

“And daddy is going to bail mummy out of jail”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fluff #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x reader

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Love (I Can’t Forget)

Pairing: geralt x jaskier Warning(s): minor jaskier x other Rating: mature

Summary: Jaskier is quite enjoying his morning with the innkeeper's daughter when he hears the cry of a golem. He knows a contract has been put out for a Witcher and that everything should be perfectly fine. Only the contract put out was for a rock troll.

There are few things in his life that Jaskier regrets as much as his extensive knowledge of all things monsters. And not even the majority of the time, just right now on this particular day at this particular time.

He's been stuck in Hamm for three days on his way to Cintra to check in on Ciri. But there's a rock troll that's been blocking the only safe route out, chucking rocks at travellers and being a general nuisance. Rock trolls aren't much trouble otherwise, but this one is affecting trade and travel, so the town has put out for a Witcher. Judging by the chatter in town, the witcher arrived this morning. So, unable to leave and unwilling to go out and get involved with the Witcher and his business like everyone else, Jaskier has holed up with the innkeeper's daughter Penelope and he's quite enjoying himself.

Or, he was, until he heard the cry.

Because right now, he's quite happily trapped beneath layers of lace and silk, pinned between soft thighs, and all he can think of is that the contract was put out for a rock troll and that sound? that was a golem. Which means that right now, there's a Witcher thinking he's going up again a calm and peaceful creature and is very much not prepared for what he's about to find. And Jaskier is torn.

Because on the one hand, he doesn't want anyone getting hurt, especially due to miscommunication - intentional or otherwise. But on the other hand, the likelihood of Geralt being the Witcher called to deal with the problem is very high. And Jaskier doesn't want to see him.

It's been months now, close to a year since he last saw Geralt, having received no apology or even acknowledgement since the dragon hunt. Which is fine; Geralt's an asshole and he can travel alone if he likes, but if that's the way it's going to be, Jaskier simply does not want to see him. Ever again, if he can help it. But he also doesn't want to see him die.

"Fuck," he mumbles and Penelope giggles as he drops his head, hair tickling her thighs.

"Mmhm, I hope so."

Jaskier crawls out from under her skirts, running his hands up her thighs and doing his best to look apologetic. Because he is; he'd rather spend the entire afternoon making her come than face Geralt for even a second, but he can't sit idly by when the man he, regrettably, still loves could be in danger.

"I have to go," he says softly and she frowns. "I'm sorry and believe me, I would much rather stay here with you, but an old friend is in danger, I can't leave him alone."

"The Witcher?" she asks and Jaskier nods. She must have heard the cry too. "Isn't it his job to fight monsters?"

"Yes, when he's given the correct information, but that's not a rock troll out there." Penelope sighs but pushes her skirts back into place, tidying them.

"You'd better go find him then."

Jaskier dips down, pressing a brief kiss to her lips before gathering his things quickly and hurrying off to find the Witcher. He prays under his breath that it isn't Geralt, but even as he does, he finds himself looking for traces of the man. He knows Geralt's habits, knows where he'll set up camp - the people here aren't friendly enough to welcome a Witcher into their homes or even host him at the inn - and so Jaskier heads for the woods.

It takes him a remarkably short time to come across the meagre camp. Roach is tethered to a tree just a few feet from the fire pit and Jaskier's heart aches to see her. She dances excitedly and he swallows back a lump in his throat.

"Hey, girl," he whispers. "I've missed you too, but I can't stay, okay? Geralt could be in trouble." He gives her a quick pat, regretting that this will likely be their only chance to see one another.

Jaskier drops to his knees next to Geralt's pack, rummaging through it. He finds the satchel of oils first, pulling them out until he recognizes the bluish hue of elemental oil. He sets it aside and continues looking for potions. Immediately, he finds swallow and thunderbolt sitting neatly in their sheaths and his heart clenches. He grabs them both and a third vial he hopes is white rafford's and tucks them all into his pockets, turning to hurry in the direction of the fight.

It's not hard to find them. The golem is loud and Jaskier follows the sound of its roars until he almost stumbles over a log in his urgency to get to him. Geralt rolls in his direction, dodging a blow from the beast, and when he sees Jaskier, his expression sours.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Jaskier?"

Jaskier stiffens, immediately defensive. He has to bite his tongue as he crouches down next to Geralt, still keeping one eye on the golem. It seems to have lost its target for now, but Jaskier knows that won't last long.

"Rude," he retorts, "considering I'm here to rescue you." He empties his pockets, listing off the supplies as he pushes them into Geralt's hands. "I thought you might need the assistance since a golem is a lot harder to talk down than a rock troll."

He's seething now, all the anger and hurt of the last year bubbling to the surface and it takes everything in him not to cry in front of Geralt. He's always been an angry crier and he hates it. But Geralt's head jerks up and a little bit of pride peeks through the anger. Because he does know what he's doing. He pointedly ignores it, eyeing a scrape on the side of Geralt's face that will need tending to later.

"Take the thunderbolt now," he says, "don't risk going at it again without it."

Geralt scoffs but he makes no attempt to take control of the situation, letting Jaskier continue. Jaskier focuses on the golem; there's no way Geralt can get the jump on it from here, so he'll have to distract it once he's ready.

"Oil your blade," he says and Geralt eyes him suspiciously, but he's already got the rag in hand.

Once he's finished, he keeps his eyes on Jaskier, no longer waiting for a command, but skeptical of what comes next. Jaskier knows he's realized something is up or else he would have just gone after the golem again, but he's waiting, he's letting Jaskier help.

"You're not going to like this," Jaskier says, rising to his feet, "but know that I'm only doing it for you."

He darts away through the trees and he can hear Geralt yelling after him, but it's too late. He ignores him, pushing on until he hears the golem turn its attention on him. This is closely followed by an angry fuck and Jaskier knows his plan is working.

Geralt still isn't at full strength, but with a distraction, he shouldn't have trouble taking the golem down. He just needs to keep it away from him without being killed until he has the chance. It's only then, that he realizes he didn't think his plan through all the way; once again, he was too concerned about Geralt's safety to consider his own and that's proved ill for him in the past.

He trips over a root - a root! - and fumbles backward to keep out of the way, but he's expecting this to be the end. He shuts his eyes and braces himself, but just as he can feel the golem's breath on his skin, it lets out a cry and whips around to turn its anger on Geralt.

Jaskier cracks an eye open to see it swinging at Geralt, now caught up and wielding his silver sword. Jaskier sighs in relief and scrambles to get up, ensuring he hasn't lost any of the supplies he brought with him. He doesn't stick around to watch the fight, heart still hammering in his chest, instead finding himself a safe spot to look out for Geralt until he takes the golem down.

And he does, shortly now that he has the right supplies, dodging its blow and pirouetting around behind it to deal a deadly blow. The golem collapses, shaking the ground beneath it and Jaskier holds his breath as he waits for Geralt to emerge from the pile of rubble.

But he doesn't and Jaskier can stand the wait any longer so he rushes out to him. Geralt's eyes are open when he reaches him, but his eyelids droop and his breath comes in hot heavy puffs. Jaskier drops down next to him, careless of the mud and blood that soaks into his trousers.

"'M fine," Geralt mumbles, but he doesn't sit up or make any attempt to move and in Jaskier's opinion, that's not fine.

He hauls Geralt up into his arms, propping him up against his chest and pulls out the remainder of the potions he brought with him. Geralt scowls and bats his hand away.

"I didn't come all the way out here to watch you die," Jaskier tuts, "I was having a very nice morning and I'd appreciate it if I wasn't interrupted for no reason. Take the potion."

Geralt rolls his eyes like a petulant child and takes the vial from Jaskier's hand, downing it like a shot of liquor.

"See," he says, "fine." Jaskier wants to smack him.

"Get up."

It's a struggle to get Geralt to his feet and Jaskier suspects his physical injuries are worse than the exhaustion, a prospect that has his heart racing, much to his chagrin. Geralt shouldn't mean anything to him anymore and yet he can't keep himself from feeling sick at the thought of anything happening to him.

Geralt uses him for support, leaning on Jaskier's shoulders as they make their way slowly back to the camp. Geralt complains about getting the necessary proof that he killed the golem and Jaskier does his very best not to call him a fucking idiot about it. He promises, with as little irritation as he can manage, that he can return for it in the morning.

He sits Geralt next to the fire and as he crosses back to Geralt's bag to collect spare linen and salve, Roach nibbles at Geralt's hair, nudging him with her nose. Jaskier smiles softly at her worry, he can understand it well; Geralt all but left him for dead, and here he is pulling him out of danger and bandaging his wounds like nothing has changed.

When he returns to him, Geralt has two of the clasps on his armour undone, but he can't reach the third and he's frowning at it. Jaskier sets the linen down with the rest of his supplies and sighs softly.

"Let me."

Geralt remains silent as Jaskier unstraps his armour and pulls his shirt up over his head. He's bruised mostly, but there are a few fresh wounds including one that spans nearly his entire stomach. There are a few scars he doesn't recognize, too, and Jaskier doesn't want to think about what caused those.

He cleans his wounds first, then wipes down the rest of his torso, relieved to find most of the gunk on him is not actually blood.

Once he's finished his work, he leaves Geralt to get dressed and gathers more wood for the fire. He lights it with bits of flint from Geralt's pack and while the smaller branches begin to crackle, Jaskier sets about finding something for them to eat. He's never been very good at hunting - that was always Geralt's job when they travelled together - but he knows his plants and with what he still has in his pack, he fixes something up for them. Not that he feels much like eating.

It's not until Jaskier is about to leave that Geralt finally speaks. Jaskier is just on the edge of sleep, exhausted from worry and the effort it takes to be so close to Geralt right now and he very nearly misses it.

"Why did you do that?"

"What part?" Jaskier asks.

"Risk your life. For me."

"I had to. I couldn't just let you die because someone was too stupid to know the difference between a rock troll and a golem."

"I'm impressed that you knew."

Jaskier's stomach does a little flip-flop and he curses himself for being so weak. "I learned from the best," he quips. "But you should sleep. I'll come back to check on you in the morning."

There's a long silence as he gathers his things and then, "Stay?" Geralt asks and Jaskier's heart clenches.

He wants to. Gods, he wants to. To lie down next to him and look up at the stars like he always has and to fall asleep to the crackling of the fire and the faint sounds of Geralt breathing next to him. But he shouldn't. That part of his life is behind him now and Geralt made it very clear that he doesn't want him around. This was just a means to an end; he couldn't with any good conscience, let a Witcher die on bad information. Even if that Witcher is the same one who broke his heart on a mountaintop so many months ago.

"I miss listening to you sing while I rest," he says and Jaskier's legs shake under him.

"You.. do?"

"Mm, I didn't realize how much I appreciated it until it was gone."

Jaskier stands still, unable to think through the rush of blood in his ears. He was angry and hurt and spiteful for a long time, but maybe it's time to let go of all that.

"Alright," he breathes.

He tries to remain calm as he can because he knows Geralt can tell when he's not. He can hear the sound of Jaskier's traitor heart and the way his breath comes just a little too fast. And he'll know what it means, the insufferable git. But in the end, it doesn't matter because Jaskier will always choose him over anyone.

He lays down in the dirt, folding his arms back to rest his head on - he's already covered in muck and Geralt's blood, what's a little more dirt? - and he sings. It's not an active choice, but he sings a love song. It's a lovely little tune, not one of his own, but one he's always been fond of, and as he sings, he closes his eyes and lets the warmth of the fire wash over him, remembering the nights when this was a common occurrence. Geralt is quiet, apparently genuine in his desire to hear him sing and Jaskier isn't quite sure what to make of that.

When he finishes, he thinks Geralt is asleep and he settles as well as he can against the rocky ground. He's tired enough that he could fall asleep anywhere, but then Geralt goes and opens his mouth again

"I looked for you," he says, "at first." Jaskier doesn't know how to respond, but Geralt doesn't seem to want a reply and he continues. "I knew what I said was wrong and I knew I'd hurt you so I tried to find you. You must have made it down the mountain before me. I was angry about what happened with Yen, I didn't mean it."

"I know," Jaskier whispers and he does. He realized a long time ago that he was not the intended target of Geralt's rage, but it didn't help to heal the wounds and it didn't bring him back. He's not sure what else to say and his heart beats too fast.

"Come here," Geralt says softly, shifting slightly to make space for him under the blanket.

Jaskier moves to lie next to him and Geralt pulls him close, wrapping an arm around him. Jaskier presses his nose into Geralt's shoulder, burying his face so Geralt can't see the emotion it betrays. He smells off, tangy, like blood and it makes Jaskier's chest tight.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'll be fine."

It's not a good answer, but Geralt tips his head down, burying his nose in Jaskier's hair and it's good enough. Jaskier presses closer, allowing himself this small bit of comfort.

In the morning, he wakes with Geralt's cloak over him, but Geralt himself is gone. As he rises to his feet, Jaskier realizes that Roach is still there, grazing happily at the edge of their camp and that means Geralt couldn't have gone far. He doesn't know how welcome his company will be, so he waits for Geralt to come back, but when he doesn't Jaskier starts to worry and he goes after him. It doesn't take long to find him.

Geralt is sitting on the edge of the forest, looking out over the town though they're far enough away that no one looking would notice them. Jaskier drapes his cloak around his shoulder and sits down, just slightly behind him.

"I thought about you," Geralt admits, "just before you showed up."

"Oh."

"I didn't think I'd see you again. I didn't want to die knowing you hated me."

"I don't," Jaskier says a little too quickly, "hate you. I can't, I tried. I was angry at you for a very long time and I was hurt for even longer, but I could never hate you." I love you too much for that.

"I have a... habit of saying things to you that I regret. Twice now I've nearly lost you for good and our last words would have been unpleasant."

"Twice?" Jaskier asks.

"Mm. The djinn."

"Right." Jaskier doesn't remember much about the djinn incident - it was fairly traumatic for him - but he does remember Geralt wishing for peace and quiet and saying some awful things about his singing voice. He mentions it, a little of the bitterness bleeding through.

"I didn't mean that either," Geralt swallows, "you have a beautiful voice." That voice fails him now as his stomach twists into a knot.

"Why now?" he asks because that's all that will come out.

"I miss you. I miss your company and seeing you again," he sighs like it's the most difficult thing he's ever had to say. Jaskier forgives him for that because this is already more than Geralt has said to him in a long time. "It makes me realize I was wrong before." He pauses again and Jaskier waits, nearly breathless. "I didn't actually expect you to leave."

"Then what did you expect?" he snaps, "Geralt I've put up with so much of your shit and I've stuck by you despite it. But you told me you didn't want me, that I was a nuisance, that I-" he turns and Geralt is right there. His words stick on his tongue and his throat goes dry.

"You're not a nuisance," he says and Jaskier nods dumbly. He looks at him and he can see how hard this is for Geralt to even get out this much and it's better than he was expecting. Anything else they can work out later if Geralt was genuine about wanting him around. Jaskier opens his mouth to speak to offer a compromise, but Geralt interrupts him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he says, "I didn't want to, I wasn't thinking."

"Geralt-"

"You're important to me, Jaskier. And you saved my life yesterday," his lips quirk just so and Jaskier stares for a moment, trying to figure out if he's really seeing this.

"You never were very good at taking care of yourself," Jaskier shrugs. "You should have someone to look after you. Someone who knows something about these monsters you hunt."

Geralt huffs a soft laugh but says nothing, meeting Jaskier's eyes and holding his gaze. He tips his head to one side and Jaskier can feel the breath catch in his throat because Geralt is so close and it's been so long. He doesn't move, afraid to disturb the peace between them, but Geralt leans in, closing the space between them and cupping Jaskier's face in his palm. Their noses bump together, then Geralt's lips brush against his own so faintly he thinks he imagined it. But when he doesn't pull away, Geralt kisses him properly, leaning into it. Jaskier lets himself be drawn forward, lost in the press of Geralt's lips against his own. He hums softly as an arm winds around his waist, bringing him closer, and when Geralt breaks the kiss, he presses their forehead together.

"I know it's not fair," he breathes, "to ask you to come back after the things I said to you, but I want to make amends. Tell me how to fix this."

"Come back to the inn with me," Jaskier breathes, "I'll talk to the innkeeper, get you a room - or you could stay with me?" he's still a little hesitant, but this is Geralt. "We can talk about what comes next after a bath and some supper."

"Will you join me?"

"In the bath?" Jaskier stutters and he can see the flush that creeps across Geralt's cheeks.

"I didn't mean -" he starts, before glancing down at Jaskier's muddy trousers. "But if you want-?" Jaskier barely remembers to breathe, but he settles himself.

"Supper first," he says, "then we'll see about a bath." Jaskier smiles at him and Geralt smiles back, and for the first time in a long time, he finds himself looking forward to whatever comes after.

#geraskier #post-mountain #rex writes