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no-droids · 1 year

Text

Another Rough Day

gif credit @chrishemsworht

Part Twenty of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7K

Warnings: Angst, violence, canon-typical blood and gore, language, hurt/comfort

A/N: i wanna thank yall for sticking around during my hermit era, in the time ive been gone i am now officially a junior at a university majoring in aerospace and it’s a fuckin nightmare and i hate everything and god help us all literally kill me and I will be posting INCREDIBLY slowly because of that (I’m talkin weeks or months in between updates yall, im sorry I can’t dedicate more time to this but I am going to finish this fic within the next handful of chapters idk maybe 5 or 6 so you shouldn’t have to wait too too long). As a heads up there will be hard angst as we enter the final arc, there will be hurt and it’ll get dark but everything is gonna turn out alright so thanks for sticking with me and continuing to stick with me. im sorry if you dont like it or your expectations were subverted or if this isn’t what you’d hoped it would be after following and waiting around for so long but this was planned a long time ago and it took me a good year or two to recognize that I started writing this fic for me and now I’m going to end it writing for me and I hope yall can respect that

ALSO I asked my best BEST FRIEND in the entire world @cptnbvcks to collaborate with me for this after we both took a very long break from creating and she drew some GORGEOUS artwork for this chapter so it will be posted at the end, everyone please go follow her and say hello

ps brittany girl you’re a fuckin menace i had to use my own two ears and listen to ethan literally say the words “the mandalorian cums, hard” what the fuck was that im actually suing

anyways chapter below the cut lets get serious yall

---

You take two of them down before they even realize they’re being attacked.

Your aim is as swift and steady as if Din were behind your shoulder right now, calmly pointing out which stationary tree to hit next in rapid succession. You’re positioned perfectly at the bottom of the ramp to take full advantage of the ambush, the only thing running through your mind is strategy and the constant calculating of angles and ricochets. The other three troopers are trapped inside the open Crest and you’re right next to a large boulder that you can step behind for cover, but it proves unnecessary as the rumors were apparently true.

They’re… awful.

Not a single blaster is even fired in your direction—you think you see maybe one panicked red shot bounce around in the hull, but that’s it. The troopers fumble for their guns and trip over each other at the unexpected attack—a few scream like children through the modulators, but you’re temporarily deaf to anything besides the screech of your weapon hitting its target and the crumpling of armored bodies.

Later on, if someone were to ask you to describe exactly what happened—who died first, who ran for cover, who cried out for help—you don’t think you’d be able to. You don’t even really feel like a person right now. The entire thing is cold, robotic survival instinct, pure ruthlessness rising in your soul for the first time in your life. It feels sick. Wrong in your bones. Born from preemptive defense in fear of your life, but that doesn’t mean you stop. Not until all of them stop moving.

You empty the entire fucking canister for a handful of stormtroopers, firing plasma and char marks across every square inch of the pristine hull even after the last one drops. Your heart is beating too fast, your finger keeps pulling the trigger multiple times even after the blaster clicks uselessly, completely empty and beeping a warning that it must’ve begun emitting ages ago. Being out of ammo scares you—you suddenly feel vulnerable, even though the very far away logical part of your mind reminds you that they have to all be dead at this point and no physical threat was ever able to graze you.

Regardless, you quickly spin behind the boulder and grab another canister from your belt, giving it a spare check for leaks while the empty one slides and drops to the rocky ground. It’s the first time you’ve ever had to reload this weapon instead of just pointing and shooting, but the mechanics are relatively simple and your brain makes up for your lack of coherent thoughts with lightning fast perception. What's difficult is that your hands are starting to shake now that you’re not aiming, you’re not breathing correctly because you’re not really breathing at all. You can’t tell the difference between the adrenaline-fueled dissociative silence that muffles everything around you or if it really is just that quiet now. No more clatter of armor, no modulated voices or terrified screams. No blasters, no footsteps along the ramp, no birds singing.

You quickly pause to lift your elbow and check the enormous eyes blinking up at you, tiny claws still holding tight to the fabric of your tunic and completely unharmed, and then you force yourself to move. The blaster is held out in front of you while you walk forward and your finger rests on the trigger, begging to be pulled again. It’s suspenseful and terrifying in a different way than before—now it’s less about psyching yourself up for confrontation and more about the fact that any sudden movement could mean your very swift end.

Silence. Silence. You’re numb and raw at the same time, walking up the ramp as your eyes fly everywhere, not even registering the blood or gore, just searching for movement. You don’t know if you feel like a predator or prey, you’re that much more brutal and inhuman because of how fucking terrified you are. You count four stormtroopers in the hull laying crumpled and still on the metal floor, but the one in the far corner only has blood on his shoulder. You quickly swing the blaster around to remedy that, but then—

“P-Please don’t kill me!”

His words remind you of something. Reality, maybe. A world outside yourself and the kid’s survival, the living beings behind the bloody armor your enemies wear.

It’s a miracle your finger stays hovering over the trigger, and you watch him throw the blaster at your feet with a clang and scramble to show you his empty hands. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me—I’m not loyal to the Empire, I don’t want to be here, please, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die—”

Behind the mask, your expression furrows. Stormtroopers are loyal to the bitter end, what is he saying? They embrace their expendiality, it’s the only thing that makes them any sort of a real threat. Kuiil told you horror stories about them during your childhood, the cloning facilities and the propaganda they’re force fed since infancy. It’s nearly impossible to find one who hasn’t been raised from birth to serve the Empire, no matter how crumbled and trace its remaining authority may be.

No, this is a trap, it has to be. Your expression twists with dread after hearing him speak, readjusting your aim with the blaster and preparing yourself for the years of nightmares that’ll follow—but then he cries out, “Wait!” and then removes his helmet with trembling hands.

You pause, staring down at him in shock.

It’s him, you recognize him immediately. It’s the same face from a hologram puck you bore into your memory, spent multiple days staring at so you’d be able to spot him under any disguise or circumstances. Oshua Ryler. Your quarry, the fifth puck, the one Din was out Maker knows where searching for before this entire mess happened. A stormtrooper? His puck said nothing about the Empire, this doesn’t make any sense. What is he doing here? Stormtroopers don’t have pucks, they don’t have bounties or relatives or loved ones searching for them. They’re brainwashed, replaceable, faceless soldiers in suits of armor and they don’t even have names.

“Please don’t kill me,” he begs again, staring at you with wide eyes even as he cowers. “I have a family, I-I just want to go home, please—”

“Shut up.” You can’t think straight with him crying like that and you’re wasting so much time just standing here trying to process when your brain had to literally shut itself down to even do the things you’ve already done. You have to kill him and escape, you have to—you can’t trust this complication, not with the tiny claws currently digging into your back and reminding you of your purpose, but it was so much easier when he had on a helmet. You hate looking at his face. It’s going to haunt your dreams now, just like the man you stabbed on Corellia.

“Please don’t kill me—please don’t kill me,” he screws his eyes up and breathes over and over instead, and your stomach wrenches with disgust. His posture and expression are so fucking pitiful, you can barely keep your eyes on him through the overwhelming nausea and aversion that climbs up your throat. He’s with the Empire, and they’re looking for the baby. You know what needs to be done. Pull the trigger, just one small movement from you and it’ll be all over. It would be the easiest thing in the world, it would be so easy.

But then instead, you ask, “Why are you a stormtrooper?”

“I’m n-not—I hate the Empire—”

“The Empire is ashes.” You don’t know if you’re yelling or whispering with how much blood is roaring through your ears. “They hold no power anymore. Why are you with them?”

“Because the one thing they have left is money!” The quarry shrills the words at you, ghostly pale to the point of turning green. “Th-They buy troopers now—they opened up a whole new market for the smugglers, there’s a base nearby that’s used for training and…” He stares wide eyed at you and gulps. “C-Conditioning.”

Your brain is already going a trillion lightyears an hour and it doesn’t have the capacity to empathize or understand anything beyond the child’s survival and the relevant details right now. “Were they expecting the baby?”

“W-What?” He squeaks up at you.

“Was the bounty put out on you a trap set by the Empire?” You ask him, lifting your free arm just enough to flash him the tiny child clinging to your side. “He said they’re coming after the baby, so tell me if this was planned from the beginning.”

“Who is ‘he’?” The stormtrooper asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around. “What are you talki—”

“Tell me if the bounty on you was a trap to take this baby!” You roar, your blaster shaking as you aim it down at him. Your mind is acutely focused on the tiny claws hanging onto your tunic, the continued safety of the kid and the life or death situation facing him that you were given absolutely no information about. “Now—”

“If it was I didn’t know!” He quickly cries out, pleading with you and clamping his eyes shut in terror under the barrel sight. “I don’t know anything about a b-baby, or a bounty! They just put blasters in our hands and told us to search for a ship and to bring back anyone we find alive, I swear!”

You’re silent for a moment, biting your lip under the mask and caught halfway between discerning and stalling. You could still kill him. You should still kill him, time is ticking down and more troopers could be heading this way any second.

Shit. “Who put the bounty out on you?” You ask sharply. It might not be a completely fair question, but he can’t exactly blame you for not feeling completely fair right now.

“I—I don’t know,” he gasps, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “Could’ve been anyone—my mother, Cyra, o-or my dad, Obediah, or Thia, or Benja, or S—”

“Thia,” you interrupt his rambling, catching the slurred word and repeating it back to him.

“Yes!” Oshua jerks his head up, tears and hope immediately filling his eyes at the sound of her name, “Yes, Thiadura Celi Ryler, that’s my sister!”

Maker, if he’s lying, then he’s fucking brilliant at it. You look towards the cockpit of the ship, biting your lip under the mask. Get to Nevarro, tell Karga and he’ll… something. Din was cut off before he finished. Help? Know what to do? You’re lost, but you have a clear directive and the precious seconds are sliding by. The controls are right up there, two steps to the ladder and less than a minute until you’re rising into the atmosphere.

But then you think back to the terror in Din’s voice. The blistering panic that made him speak faster and with more urgency than you’ve ever heard from him. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga.

You look back at the quarry. “How many of you are there?”

“At the base? Around three hundred,” he immediately spills. “Half of us are in the hole right now getting brainwashed, they do it in shifts, but they can be mobilized in a few hours. There were a lot of bodies outside when we were ordered to split off, maybe a third of our squadron, but the rest were still shooting at whatever was—”

“So around a hundred left,” You finish breathlessly, almost wanting him to speak faster and cut to the chase so you can calculate quicker. “How many were dispatched on the search?”

“Uh, there were eight groups of five sent in each major direction,” he informs you, still trembling on the ground. “Told us not to come back until we covered the entire sector.”

Of which, four you’ve already taken care of. In other circumstances, you’d be nauseated at the thought, but right now, it’s just another number to subtract, just more panicked math in Din’s frightening absence. That leaves at least sixty troopers left wherever the base is, minimum, and likely a couple more hours before they’ve combed the sector. If this wasn’t a preconceived trap purposefully set for the kid, then that means reinforcements haven’t arrived yet but likely will soon. And if this is a base meant for training and conditioning, then that also means there’s a chance not all of them will be loyal yet.

You make the decision immediately.

“Okay,” you announce, clicking the blaster’s safety switch and holstering it, sounding lightyears more certain than you feel. “Then you’re going to help me carry out a rescue mission, and I’ll take you back to your sister.”

“You…” He looks uncertain, blinking at your blaster and slowly lowering his hands. “You want to rescue the men?”

Ideally? Sure. Realistically? You don’t say anything in response. Instead, you kick his regulation firearm at your feet further away from the quarry just in case your judgment is flawed, and then turn around and grab one of the bodies behind you.

Your adrenaline is still blaring so fast that you only just barely note the severity of what you’ve just done and what you’re continuing to do. The corpses aren’t real to you right now, they’re inanimate things that you need out of your ship before you can close the doors to it. They are, however, heavy as fuck, but the only other adult here has a wound in his arm from the gun on your hip. Regardless, you have experience with lifting dead weight without a big, strong, capable man to do it for you.

“Help me out here, kid,” you mutter over your shoulder, and in response, you feel his claws dig in and climb up just a little bit until he can peek out in front of you. Thankfully, the burden is suddenly lifted and you can quickly slide the dead troopers down the ramp with ease. It takes hardly any time at all—you just yank and haul and release and all four of them tumble the rest of the way all by themselves.

When you stand back up, Oshua hasn’t moved and he’s looking at you with a pale, queasy expression. Glancing down, you see that your white robe is now stained with streaks and patches of rusty blood. Instead of swallowing back bile at the sight and bolting to the shower to scrub off every last remaining trace, you breeze past it, noting nothing more than a change of color. Dirtying your white, pristine clothing with the consequences of protecting this baby—you’d rather have blood-soaked fabric with an unharmed kid clinging to you than any other combination of those things.

“Can you make it up to the cockpit?” You ask the quarry, kicking his rifle off the ship before closing the ramp and then gesturing up the ladder. Your voice is calm and steady but your hands are beginning to shake again. “I need as much information as possible about the base.” You know that’s where Din is, judging from the wall of blaster screeches that drowned him out through the comm. Logically, you know you could be headed right into a trap, and every instinct inside you wants to find safety, but… you just cannot imagine flying the ship away from this planet without Din onboard. It isn’t fucking happening, you’ve made your choice.

Without waiting for a response, you climb the ladder and plop down in the pilot’s seat of the Crest. While Oshua finds some way to clamber up the steps behind you in bulky stormtrooper armor with one good arm, you hold the kid closer on your lap and begin flight checking. Din will be fucking furious, but the scolding you’ll be sure to get is the least of your worries right now. Following his instructions and going back to Nevarro is just making shit infinitely more dangerous for him, turning what could be a potential rescue mission into an undeniable suicide mission. Even if Karga somehow decides to send a few guild members along to infiltrate the base, it’ll be a war you want to avoid.

Besides. What did you always tell him about running away from him, even when he instructs you to?

It’s just… not really your thing.

---

They’re everywhere.

They crawl like flies out of the base, and for every single body that falls, three more spill from the open doors. Rapid fire plasma beams launch from the end of Din’s blaster, melting white armor with every twitch of his gloved finger. Their aim is terrible, as is to be expected, but the sheer number of them more than makes up for it, as is by design.

Din’s heart pounds with exertion, his breath comes in ragged huffs through the modulator as his helmet identifies and isolates which body is closest to him, which body he needs to bring down next. His blaster is so hot it nearly burns his hand, even through the thick gloves he wears. When he runs out of ammo, he holsters the pistol and swings his rifle from around his shoulder, spinning to catch a handful of troopers behind him in the obliterating blast.

He’s not thinking much. He can’t think, even though your safety and that of his son is currently dangling by a thread. If he focuses on that, he’ll be dead before he can even picture your faces. He just reacts, he maims and kills without a single thought in his mind. Blood splatters, screams and sirens blare as he becomes surrounded by more and more troopers. Din can hear the sound of plasma colliding and ricocheting off his armor; every single one of them is a potential injury he could currently have but might not even be able to feel right now.

His helmet starts beeping rapidly and he turns just enough to see, highlighted in bright red on the screen, two enormous artillery turrets slowly rising up out of the roof of the imperial base. He feels a fierce flash of anger burn in his chest, it’s like a lightning strike to his veins.

Din needs to go.

And yet… if he was another man. If he wasn’t a father, or a husband, if he had no family and no attachments like the creed declared he should, he would go. With just a twitch of his fingers, he could be launching into the sky and retreating as far away from this battlefield as he could reasonably get. He’s never been the type to run from a threat, but this isn’t just a threat. Dozens of troopers are gaining on him, they’re trampling their own dead to get within range. Plasma pings off his shoulder, another one hits his back as they flank from behind. He can feel the heat through the sizzling beskar, he can see them surrounding him on all sides, and the propulsion trigger for his jetpack is right there under his wrist.

Din holds his ground and continues firing, he plants his feet firmly to the dirt with only one thought in his mind.

Run, sweet girl. Run.

---

You type in commands to scan for Din’s signal, quickly locating it through the Crest’s computer onboard. Not far from here, three minutes or less. The ship rumbles to life beneath you, slowly lifting off the rocky ground and rotating in place as it hovers. It’s not on autopilot but you feel like you are, you can barely feel your hands as they move the yoke forward and the Crest takes off in the direction of Din’s blinking frequency.

“Tell me about defenses,” you instruct Oshua, restlessly bouncing your leg while the baby coos.

“Two plasma turrets on top of the base,” the quarry quickly answers. “There’s usually guards stationed around the perimeter, but everyone who’s capable will be outside right now.”

Your mouth twists downwards under the mask. Blasters don’t scare you much from this high up, but Din’s armor doesn’t cover every inch of his body, he’s not completely invincible. Doubt churns in your stomach, but you have to stay focused on one task at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed. The turrets, then. “Are they automatic?”

“Manual,” he corrects with a shake of his head.

“Radar?”

“Old. Only engages above fifty meters.”

You eye your altitude and dip the Crest considerably, beginning to weave through the rocky canyons and dodging crumbling cliffs while you travel. “What about ships?”

“None,” Oshua says, “except for a passenger shuttle used for transport. TIEs are flown in the Vesta sector, this base is remote and used for basic training only.”

“Anything else?” You ask, stomach twisting with the knowledge that barely four questions is all you’ve got. You’re planning to drop into an imperial base to save the man you love and you can’t think of a single other question?

The quarry shrugs, and your heart slams, does somersaults in your chest at the mere notion that you could fucking die here. Today, in two minutes or less, you could die here. The child in your lap looking over the ship’s front panel with a quiet determination in his eyes could die here. Din could already be dead—that signal broadcasts his location to this computer regardless of whether he’s still breathing or not. He could already be gone and you’d be flying the baby right into a trap without knowing any differently.

Whelp, you think while taking a deep breath, some strangely calm existential acceptance beginning to flood your soul. If he isn’t dead, he will be soon if you don’t make it to him on time.

You immediately lift your wrist and speak into the communicator. “Mando?” You have no idea if he can hear you, but you need to try anyway. Your voice is still firm, there’s a strength to it you don’t feel in your chest, but it certainly sounds convincing. “I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Try to figure something else out.”

That’s it. That’s it, improvise until you don’t have to. Even if you’re lacking confidence, you can at least scrounge up some conviction. Your arms gain feeling again while you veer the Crest through the stony terrain, the familiar reverberations under your feet begin to fill your body with a powerful sense of purpose. Your breaths begin to come steady, every falling rock you see through the transparisteel feels like it drops in slow motion, allowing you to evade them easily. It would normally be stupidly dangerous to fly this low with so many unexpected obstacles and hazards narrowly missing the ship, but considering what you’re flying into, a few boulders seems comical.

“Where’s your helmet?” Oshua asks out of nowhere, and for a second, you don’t think you heard him correctly.

But then it strikes you all at once what he’s attempting to imply, and the sheer lunacy of the thought is enough to make you laugh while you clutch the controls. “I’m not a Mandalorian.”

“You wear the armor of one,” he points out… rather fairly, you have to admit. “You cover your face like one. You have a blaster that fires Philithiorium, a rare and expensive gas native to Mandalore’s stratosphere, and you’re a bounty hunter—”

“I’m not a Mandalorian.” Your words are short and cutting, you have a daunting task to focus on and don’t feel like having small talk right now. “I’m not a bounty hunter, either.”

But then again, Karga made you a member of the Guild, didn’t he? He handed you Oshua’s puck and said this one is for you to find, and you are technically part of a Mandalorian clan. All of this seems like it happened without your knowledge. You may be marrying a Mandalorian, you may wear his armor and mother his child and shoot a blaster with his signet branded into it, but war isn’t in your blood. This robe was a costume when you first made it, this armor was a relic that was restored as a hobby. In a sense, it still feels that way. The mask covering your face lended itself to a temporary surge of bravery earlier, but beyond that, the only thing that’s keeping you moving forward now is your family. The man you love that may or may not be alive right now, the baby holding tight to your leg while the ship sways and weaves through the stony landscape.

Your eyes quickly flick down to the child in your lap, both of his three fingered hands clutching onto the stained fabric of your knee without moving a single inch. He’d know, you tell yourself. If his father is gone, he’d already know somehow. Din is still alive, and he’s counting on you.

---

There’s too many for Din to handle.

They swarmed him, overpowered his endless artillery with massive numbers and there’s nothing he can do anymore. The backs of his knees are kicked from behind and he slams down to the ground with a clatter, his sizzling hot blasters are ripped from him, and Din folds his hands calmly behind his back even as one of the stormtroopers barks out, “Binders,” to another one, who disappears quickly in response. In the meantime, a few of them apparently decide to just attempt holding his arms in place, and their measly combined grip is almost enough to make him roll his eyes under the helmet. These imperial soldiers are even more pitiful than they usually are, but his silent resolve to stall to ensure your escape is enough to keep him stationary and compliant for the time being.

Eventually, a few voices call out from beyond the crowd and there’s some movement from the back. Dozens of troopers with their blasters all pointed at him begin to shuffle to make way, careful to keep their barrels aimed at him while a path slowly forms. The crowd of white parts and a stormtrooper with a singular red pauldron on his right shoulder saunters confidently towards Din as he kneels on the ground.

An officer, he assumes. Conveniently missing from the firefight, the scanner inside his helmet would’ve caught the change in color and Din would’ve made sure to kill him first.

“Well now, what do we have here?” Comes his thin metallic voice through the tinny filter. The officer studies him curiously for a few moments, before slowly looking down by his feet, reaching out one cheap, plastic covered foot to gently nudge the body of a dead trooper on the ground with a sigh. “What a shame.”

Coward, he thinks, his lip curling with disgust under the helmet.

“This is an imperial training base,” he turns his attention back to Din to inform him when he doesn’t immediately respond, rather stupidly he might add. “How were you able to find us?”

Silence. The grip on hands held behind his back is even looser now. He just tilts his chin up slightly in defiance, the scanner inside his helmet locating each weapon strapped to the man’s body and highlighting it red. Small text boxes blink into existence under each one with a manufacturer and classification—a BlasTech E-11 rifle, a Merr-Sonn thermal detonator, a Kolvo vibroblade—and Din is severely unimpressed with the quality. The detonator is the only weapon that even catches his eye, and that’s only because the chamber inside that houses the explosive baradium has a release mechanism that’s completely dead. Useless, then. Good to know.

After a long moment of quiet tension where Din refuses to speak and the officer continues to confidently scrutinize him, in some strange sort of silent battle of egos that only one seems to have a genuine interest in, another stormtrooper makes his way to the front, shoving past his fellow soldiers to address the superior in charge.

“Commander, we’ve sent out an alert for an intruder,” he tells him, slightly out of breath from running through the crowd in the lightweight armor. Din wants to roll his eyes, but what he says next makes him snap to immediate attention. “The fleet informed us that Moff Gideon is currently on route.”

Gideon. The last time someone spoke that name, it was a quarry on Coruscant and you just barely managed to stop Din from suffocating the bastard for even saying it aloud before freezing him in carbonite. It would’ve meant half the return on a hunt that lasted nearly a month but he saw red and his hand was crushing his windpipe before he realized what happened. But he’s dead, Din thinks with a clenched jaw and fists tightening behind his back, he watched that TIE fighter explode and slam into the ground, crushing the man inside it. The wreck was unsurvivable, he can’t be alive.

“For what? This Mandalorian?” The trooper in charge scoffs in response, and Din remains completely mute.

“Yes, sir,” the other one confirms. “Orders were to capture him, alive.”

“Hm.” The officer turns his attention back to him, less analyzing and more musing while he tilts his head. “I see,” he eventually says, and he sounds like he’s grinning, before strolling slightly closer as Din stays completely still on his knees. “He must want the beskar. I’m sure it’s worth more than this entire battalion combined.”

All of a sudden, a gloved hand carelessly catches the rim of his helmet and tugs, and Din’s movement is explosive. He launches off the ground, arms easily slipping from the pathetic grip they were being held in and his fist colliding with the side of the officer’s flimsy white helmet, the plastic making a deafening crack against his face.

Multiple hands immediately rush forward to grab him and yank him back down again while the commanding trooper stumbles backwards in shock, and Din amicably drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his back once more like nothing happened at all.

“Binders!” A trooper behind him roars loudly once more, and a few men surrounding him begin trotting away this time.

The officer in red stands a few feet away from him now, grabbing his helmet and twisting it back to its proper position on his head where it was skewed. There’s a shattered hole near his jaw where the material splintered and busted like the cheap piece of banthashit it is, and while he might normally feel pleased with himself for being able to see his skin peeking through, it just fills him with more righteous fury. It’s such a punchable jaw.

After a few awkward moments of silence, the other one clears his throat and continues. “He… has inquired about the location and status of a child that should be accompanying him.”

Din inhales deeply through his nose and grinds his teeth. He wants to snap their necks one by one for even just mentioning his son, but there are just too many, more than even his whistling birds can neutralize. Still, he gave you as much of a head start as physically possible. You should be rising into the atmosphere right now, making the jump into hyperspace towards safety. Karga will know what to do—he’ll protect his family, separate you and the boy so the threat is evenly dispersed instead of collected all in one place, and arm dozens of trained hunters to keep watch over you both individually. It’s the best Din can do, and it’s the only thing keeping his knees planted on the ground and his body completely motionless while they continue speaking.

“We are combing the sector for a ship with as many men as we can afford to lose,” the trooper in red says, but his voice filter is shattered and now sounds like a puny little droid with a broken voice box, “but our numbers are unimpressive. Assistance may be required.”

It’s too late, Din thinks, mouth twitching under the beskar with a satisfied smirk. They’re wasting their time, looking for a ghost. You’re both long gone by now. They’ve got no idea you even exist—

“He also spoke of a girl.”

And then he feels his heart stop in his chest. Every single cell in his body turns to fire, it’s a fucking miracle he doesn’t move a muscle in response. His sweet girl, the one so far removed from the nightmare of the Empire that she made best friends with the orphans of it. How the fuck did he know? He shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone gathering information about you, how did he know?

But then Din thinks back, remembering your makeshift bed on the floor, your panicked eyes and heaving chest as the quarry taunted him with a sick little smile. Who’s this, Mando? She’s just darling, isn’t she? Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addition?

“A girl?”

The trooper nods. “Moff Gideon insisted that if the Mandalorian did not have a child with him, then a girl would likely be protecting him instead.”

He’s going to kill them, Din decides. Every single one of these imperial pigs, every single soldier standing right now is a dead fucking man. The blood pumping through his body suddenly turns to acid, deadly black hate poisoning his soul. His heartbeat morphs into a war drum, the armor strapped to his limbs is the barrel of a gun. He’s going to fucking kill them and leave an imperial base full of bodies to greet his old nemesis upon his return, and he’s going to enjoy every single second of it.

Except, then—

“Mando?” The sweetest voice in existence suddenly crackles through the earpiece under his helmet. “I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Figure something else out.”

And, as Din kneels there in surrender, surrounded by a crowd of enemies he thought he destroyed long ago, all the anger—all the fury and defiance and murder surging through his veins—suddenly morphs to fear.

The emotion is so foreign and old to him, it feels like a face he barely recognizes and a name he can’t remember. He’s panicked before. He’s been in situations where a threat has made him blind with rage, he knows what it’s like to look death straight in the eyes and say that he’s busy and to come back another time. This is different. This is ice cold that freezes over beskar.

He can’t speak out loud to warn you—he can’t move his hands to press the button on the back of his helmet and allow him to talk without detection. There’s plasma turrets on the roof of the base, he can see them right now. The helmet’s scanners say they’re manned and engaged, and though he is outside and this is how you retrieved him before whenever he needed a quick escape, he has fifty fucking imperial blasters trained on him and you know absolutely nothing about this threat. You’re flying right into a war zone and if either you or his son dies, he won’t ever be able to forgive himself.

Behind the helmet, his eyes fly to each and every trooper, wondering which blaster will be the one to do it. Which weapon is going to be the one he can’t block in time when you descend, the one that’ll kill him right in front of you. Which turret will be the one to obliterate the Crest with you and his son inside of it.

“Maker, where are those fucking binders—” he hears someone behind him snarl, but the white noise of pure terror roaring through his ears drowns them out. His chest starts heaving against his will, sheer panic begins to blur his vision. For the first time in his life, his armor feels too heavy, his lungs feel like one of these boulders are sitting on them instead of beskar.

All too soon, his helmet starts making a familiar sound that signals quietly in his ear, alerting him of an incoming ship, and the only thing he can physically do is count down the seconds to prepare himself for what is to come.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…

Like lightning, Din breaks the grip of multiple troopers and surges up, tackling the officer in red to the ground. There’s a clatter as they both slam into the rocky floor, but in the ensuing scuffle, he easily snatches the thermal detonator from his side holster and holds it up for everyone to see, before pressing the red button on the front and hearing it begin to beep rapidly.

---

You’re right on time.

The Crest rises up through the rocky cliffs surrounding the base and you spot the turrets you were warned about. Weapons controls are already engaged and you’re too low to be detected by radar—you fire once, twice, and blast both of them to smithereens from behind before they can even rotate around to target you.

Alarms start wailing but the guns are destroyed. It’s not comforting, though; blasters won’t touch you up here, but that doesn’t mean they can’t fire at Din on the ground. Your eyes dart across the sea of white, looking for a flash of silver anywhere, and then you spot him instantly in the chaos.

For some reason, the troopers in his vicinity all seem to be bolting away from him. Their rifles are down, clutched in their hands while they nearly fall over each other to run away as fast as possible, and your heart soars when you spot his jetpack firing up. Din launches into the sky while another trooper is revealed underneath him, seeming to juggle something in his hands and then throw it into the crowd of retreating soldiers, but the sight of the man you love rising into the air while a flurry of blaster shots from the far edges of the imperial structure follow him gives you the confidence to immediately turn the guns down towards the horde of troopers.

“Which ones are in charge?” You ask Oshua breathlessly, who leans forward and points out the transparisteel.

“Red pauldrons—” he barely has time to say it before you aim and fire at one of the troopers wearing red that was closest to Din, the plasma beam launching from the Crest so powerful and devastating that it outright obliterates the surface he’s laying on. Pieces of shattered armor fly and a smoking crater of rubble is all that’s left behind, but your mind is whirling and you’re already onto someone else wearing red at the edges of the complex, and then two more near the doors, and then another—

To their credit, you think the sixty or so soldiers in training seem to figure out that you’re not aiming into the enormous collection of them. If you were, the damage would be catastrophic and spraying everywhere, but you’re precise and meticulous with your shots, and the only ones who are loyal enough to the cause to hold still and raise their blasters at the incoming threat tend to be the ones you need to mow down anyways. The rest of them scatter in all directions, scrambling over each other to escape and then disappearing into the distant boulders surrounding the base—but you notice that not a single one of them runs back inside the safety of its open doors.

The hull dips with the weight of Din dropping in, and relief floods your soul even as you continue raining hell down on the superiors in charge. Any flash of color you see is a target, your eyes lose focus of everything, your vision blurs and turns monochrome as you just search for red.

“Lift up!” You hear Din’s voice roar from the hull. You can hear his rifle unloading through the open door. “Now! We have to go now!”

You press the button to shut the hull door with Din inside and punch it, rising so fast that the shove of gravity makes it difficult to keep your head up. Through the sudden surge of downward force, you just barely manage to raise your incredibly heavy arm to push the button that pressurizes the Crest and ignites the launch boosters, preparing the vessel for space travel. Outside the transparisteel, the gray sky begins darkening as the atmosphere eventually disappears. The ship’s engines roar, burning so much fuel at once that you’re actually accelerating through the climb, you’re boosting through the gradual ease of gravity as the planet’s curvature and glow becomes softer and softer below you.

As soon as the blackness of space begins to fill the windows, the slight subsiding of force allows you to plug in the coordinates for Nevarro with less difficulty, but you’re still moving, still rising, still escaping. You can’t find it within yourself to slow down, but then something catches your attention.

Claws suddenly dig sharp into your thigh, sharp enough to sting and cause you to wince, and you look down to see that the kid has gone incredibly tense. Deadly tense. Your heart is still pounding even though you’re away from danger, you’ve got Din in the hull, everyone is safe, and yet—

It flickers into existence all at once. One second it’s just space, just the endless depths of nothingness spread out for light years in front of you, and within the blink of an eye it’s suddenly there.

A star destroyer.

Your body freezes in horrified awe, having never seen a ship so fucking big in your entire life. It looks like a massive satellite, the size of an enormous asteroid instantly appearing in your vision and dwarfing the vastness of space around it. All the stars you used to dream about are suddenly blotted out within a fraction of a second, terror so immense seizes your soul that you stop thinking. You stop calculating, you stop being yourself for a split second that lasts an entire lifetime.

Before you can move a single muscle, the computer beeps quickly and lurches the Crest into hyperspace.

---

The stars streak across the transparisteel like so many times before. Utter silence nearly deafens you with how abrupt it is after so much noise, but the peace it used to bring does nothing to quell your fear. Everything is the same as it always was, same bursts of light as you hurdle faster than it towards Nevarro, same quiet, same rumbling hum of the ship. But now, everything has changed.

You hear the quarry next to you suddenly inhale and exhale loudly, and it shocks you a little bit, reminds you that there’s a person next to you and another is on your lap. Other people exist outside of the vision of death that just flickered out of existence just as quickly as it appeared. They’re breathing, Oshua is shakily unbuckling his seatbelt, life is continuing on in the quiet cockpit but you can’t seem to move like he is. You can’t seem to breathe like he is. It’s only when the baby slowly maneuvers himself around on your thigh and blinks up at you, placing a tiny hand on your stomach that you finally feel air enter your lungs.

After a moment, you reach down and click open your seatbelt with trembling fingers, scooping the kid up in your arms and slowly attempting to stand. Everything feels wobbly and dreamlike, you have to brace yourself on the headrest to prevent yourself from falling back into the chair again.

“That was…” Ryler mutters, his voice sounding foggy and distant, “uh. A close one.”

You look over at him, recognizing that he’s speaking but not quite able to understand the words right now. Red catches in your vision, and you blink down at the way he’s clutching his left shoulder, the smear of blood darkening the white armor he’s wearing. You blink a few more times at the sight of it, and though it feels like you normally would be sickened at the wound, somehow shocked out of your state of shock, it does nothing to you. When you look back up at his face, his expression seems strangely grateful, even when it’s screwed up in what you know must be excruciating pain. You did that, a quiet voice whispers in your mind, even though the rest of it seems incredibly blank.

Instead of responding, you stumble a few steps over to the ladder, spinning around and hesitating for a moment. You’re severely lacking in coherent thought, but one thing seems to break through. You’re not sure if you have enough coordination to do this safely right now. However, when there’s movement in your peripheral and you look to see Oshua gently offering his right arm to you, seeming to understand you’d like to use both hands for this, you snap back to your senses just the slightest bit and hug the baby tighter to your chest. Carefully, you begin making the slow climb down the ladder with the kid, still trembling with the aftershocks of adrenaline. Your limbs feel extra heavy, but eventually the floor meets your feet.

Din is standing there when you slowly turn around, armor gleaming and still as a statue, but he has his back to you. His helmet is tilted down at the ground, and when you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of the bloodstains of dragged bodies that leave dark red streaks all the way up the ramp.

You feel something this time. It’s… cold. A burning, searing cold that creeps into your skin. Like your heart decides to pump nitrogen through your chest instead of warm blood. You did that.

There’s a sudden urge inside of you to speak, to address him and inform him of your presence, tell him everything is okay, everything worked out, but you can’t find it in yourself to say a single word. You can’t find a single word to say. The kid twists as best he can in your clutch, his ears drag against your chest to greet his father, but for some reason, there’s still a strange sense of fear in your bones. It’s enough to wake you up slightly, it’s enough to tell you it’s not over yet. There’s a terror in your heart that hasn’t left since he first called over the comm and begged you to run, a crippling dread that you thought climaxed after seeing that star destroyer appear, but it’s somehow only increased after laying eyes on him like this.

You watch as his helmet turns, slowly meeting the pauldron on his shoulder, and for some reason, you feel yourself harden. Your feet brace against the metal floor like this is another threat you have to face, you let its unyielding metallic strength transfer up through the souls of your boots to your heart in your chest.

But the second you hear cheap white armor clatter as the quarry steps down the ladder behind you, Din bursts into movement. He suddenly spins and storms up to you in one single step while catching your holstered blaster on your hip. It’s out and aimed in the blink of an eye, and it’s a miracle you remember how to speak before he remembers how to kill.

“Mando—” you warn, just in time for the quarry to land on the floor of the hull and turn around to reveal his face.

Din holds there for a second, his helmet locked on Oshua’s features. His gloved fingers twitch wildly on the trigger of your gun held over your shoulder, like he has to remind himself multiple times not to. You hear Oshua’s armor clack while he likely raises one good arm in surrender, but then Din’s helmet moves a fraction of a millimeter to your face and holds there. He just stares down at you, and the air feels heavy, your body feels heavy, the feather light child in your arms feels heavy.

Slowly, he lowers his arm, lets it fall while he continues looking at you from behind the visor. You look back at him, unblinking, unfeeling, and there’s a few seconds that last an utter eternity where nobody moves. Nobody speaks, nothing happens, but then a soft coo comes from your arms before you can finally break eye contact, knowing there are still some things that need to be done.

You eventually turn around and lift your chin to address Oshua.

“You have to go into carbonite,” you inform him quietly. Your voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from outside of yourself. “We’re taking you to Nevarro, and then you’ll be transported to your home planet. When they unfreeze you, your sister will be there to collect you.”

He looks uncertain, one hand still raised while the other hangs uselessly at his side, and you don’t blame him.

But you also don’t feel like saying anymore, not unless he decides he doesn’t want to go in willingly. Normally you might’ve tried to empathize, offer him further reassurance beyond just a couple short sentences, but you don’t. Speaking feels difficult, thinking feels difficult. You’re still in survival mode, not active but reactive. There’s also no reason for you to lie to him about this, and you can see him glance at Din standing silently behind you, who hasn’t moved a muscle.

He eventually nods and you walk him over to the chamber without another word, watch him turn to face you as he backs into the opening while you reach up towards the control panel.

But then there’s a moment. One where you hesitate slightly, one where your vision flashes back to the sight of those bloodstains on the floor, and that burning cold fills you again, so cold it feels completely numb.

“I’m… sorry,” you whisper quietly to him, though your voice sounds so empty. There’s so much emotion that should be there but isn’t, so much regret and pain that should break through but can’t. “I’m sorry I… killed your friends.”

Later, you’ll think about how you felt absolutely nothing saying it. Your heart doesn’t constrict with remorse at the mere words leaving your mouth, guilt doesn’t flood into your soul, pain doesn’t wrack through your bones. You could’ve been saying anything at all and nobody would be able to tell the difference.

He blinks at you, flicking his eyes between yours for a second or two, but then you press the proper button and watch the gas quickly freeze him where he stands. He’ll be conscious the entire time, but Karga will send him to the correct location and you have no doubt that this elemental purgatory is leagues better than where he just escaped from. It’s a benefit being the last quarry to be retrieved—he’ll only have to spend a few days trapped in here before being reunited with his family.

When that’s done and Oshua is a complete statue in front of you, bulky white armor now colored a dull metallic gray and frozen in time, you will yourself to finally turn around to face the enormous mountain of a presence behind you. The baby gently reaches out for him, but Din doesn’t move from where he’s stood. Your blaster is still clutched tightly in his hand, and he isn’t looking at you.

Slowly, you walk over and stop directly in front of him in the middle of the hull, blinking at him while the helmet subtly moves to lock onto your face. The kid begins wiggling in your arms, making soft impatient noises while you both stand in complete silence across from each other.

After a few moments, you hear him flick your blaster’s safety on by his side and then toss it carelessly to the ground. It skids along the floor, light enough to be mostly quiet. Gloves reach out as he carefully takes the kid from you and settles him in the crook of one arm, and then he looks you up and down, still not saying anything.

Your eyes follow his movement, watching his arm slowly reaching out to you, and you think he’s going to cup your jaw, or brush your hair back. Give you some sort of physical reassurance since he hasn’t spoken a single word of it.

Instead, Din suddenly grabs the armor clinging to your chest and starts ripping it off you with one hand. It clangs to the floor so loudly in the silence of hyperspace, the kid’s ears twitch and flutter with each shattering bang. You hold still while he does it, you barely respond except the unavoidable movement your body experiences as the pauldron is yanked from your shoulder and thrown against the ground. The ammo belt is tugged over your head and hurled away, the thigh braces are snatched from your legs and they clang to the floor, and the pearly, opalescent fabric revealed underneath is stained in dead man’s blood, rusty and in such great quantities that it shows up as brown instead of red.

“Are you hurt?”

He sounds… dead. So monotonic that you can’t possibly gauge his emotional state. He doesn’t move. His fists don’t clench, he says every single word like it means the same exact thing as the last. If nothing at all was a person who could speak, they’d use his tone of voice.

“No,” you eventually whisper.

The helmet nods once, and then he spins around and walks away without anything else. Without saying anything, without touching you, or double checking you for injuries in case you were lying. You stand utterly still while Din climbs the ladder with the kid cradled in one arm, and you don’t even flinch when the door to the cockpit slides shut behind him. You have no idea how long you stand there in the splitting silence afterwards, numb and unmoving.

You feel… nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The hard defenses you strapped to yourself today to reconcile the things you had to do are still high and strong, guarding your soul even if he stripped away your physical armor. Self preservation is still animating your body, and your facial expression barely changes. Your first thought, as soon as you remember that you can have one, is that there are things that still need to be done. Tasks to complete.

Alone, you shower the lingering traces of blood off your body, the normally clear and refreshing water running a sickly, toxic brown. Alone, your stomach rolls and suddenly decides to empty itself of the very little that was in it as the scalding drops rain down over you—mostly liquid and bile that easily rinses down the drain. The water is too warm, it beats down on you like blazing hot sand pelting your skin in the desert. You feel like you did those first few months with Din, where the silence was suffocating, where you’d only interact with the baby if he was on a hunt or if you could tell he didn’t know how to calm him when he was fussy. If you were in hyperspace, you usually spent time by yourself in the hull while he lived in the cockpit, and if he decided he needed to be in the hull for whatever reason, then you’d trade places with him. It was… isolating. Lonely by yourself. The quiet used to haunt you before it became your cherished friend, but now it’s a betrayer, a ghost that whispers memories and nightmares in your ears.

When you finally finish rinsing the blood from your skin and get dressed, you see the sheets that used to make up your bed now have fried holes in them from your charred plasma marks, the inside of the hull is covered in them and the trails of dried blood where you dragged the bodies down the ramp. Your armor is still strewn about the hull, the kid’s hovering shield lays dead in the corner. Everything you meticulously cleaned and organized and collected and created, now the scene of a bloodbath. One committed by your hand, your blaster still laying uselessly on the floor forever linked to this atrocity.

You spare a glance towards the ladder, but you don’t want to come face to face with Din yet. You already knew he’d be furious, but… you had hoped that he’d at least…

What? At least what? Comfort you? Coddle you after you deliberately ignored his instructions? What exactly, in the past year or so of learning Din’s inner workings and intricacies, would ever give you the impression that he’d come give you a big hug after you purposefully defied him? You flew the kid directly into an imperial base after being told to protect him, you ignored every order he gave to you in the moments he thought would be his last, and though you did it to save his life, you have a feeling that Din has never valued his life even a fraction of what you do.

The misery stabs at your soul, but your mind is finally beginning to process things logically. He’s alive, the kid is alive, the quarry is secure, and you’re all onboard the safety of this ship hurtling through hyperspace where nobody, not even the Empire, can touch you. You weighed the consequences before making your decision, you did what you had to do. If he wants to be mad, then he can fucking well be mad and you’ll find some way to comfort yourself. At least he’s here being mad, at least he’s alive and safe and breathing and mad, and your rare act of disobedience is to thank for that.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s probably easier than it should be to reconcile the punishment. Right now, you welcome the exclusion, the negativity and sorrow beating itself into your soul. Four innocent people died today on this ship, gunned down under your blaster while they panicked and ran for cover. You keep hearing their screams.

So you start to clean up the hull, needing another task to focus your thoughts on. You work to erase every inch of the evidence of your deeds, make it disappear like the pool of blood Din once cleaned up while you were sleeping and never acknowledged again. You only allow the bloodstains to fuck with your head for a single moment, and then you swallow back the nausea until you’re a blank slate again and sink to your knees with a rag in your hand. After that, your vision stops focusing and it just becomes red contrasting against gunmetal gray, and you work tirelessly to get rid of all remaining traces of it.

Then you start on the blaster marks, you need them gone. After a few informed attempts at mixing cleaning chemicals, you find one concoction that allows you to wipe them away like they’re nothing more than dirt that got tracked in. The Crest’s oxygen recycling system works overdrive to constantly purify the air so you don’t get high or pass out, but your nose still stings. It’s fine, it’s sterile, it burns a bit but it smells sharp and metallic and keeps you hyper focused on the task at hand.

After that’s done, you pick up the charred blankets and ball them up to throw into the trash vent. You don’t feel anything as you do it. You don’t think about how long it took you to collect these over months and months of being stuck on this ship, how comfortable they were when everything else was industrial and rigid, how many nights you spent with Din curled up in their softness while he breathed easy and warm. Sheets are just luxuries, they can afford to be lost.

Next, you gather your armor and wipe it down with the rag, put it away along with your blaster. The stained robe goes in the trash, along with the sheets and the blood soaked cloth you used to clean everything. They’re all ruined, you’ll never be able to make them right again.

The hull is sparkling clean when you decide to take another shower. Nothing on you is dirty except your hands, but you feel filthy. Wrong, cold, numb, cold, stained, cold.

After scrubbing your skin raw under the water and changing clothes again, since you don’t really know what to do with yourself anymore, you slowly climb the ladder to the cockpit, keeping perfectly silent. When you reach the upper platform and come face to face with the closed door, you can just barely hear Din’s whispered voice speaking quietly to the baby beyond it.

You raise your hand for a moment, hovering your knuckles over the metal, but then it eventually falls. Instead, you look over and spot the corner, the same corner Din bunched himself into when he snapped at you for even suggesting going on a hunt with him, blew up at you for the mere notion of something happening like what happened today. You back yourself into it in defeat and slowly sink down on the floor, resting your head against the metal and hugging your knees to your chest since you don’t have a tiny baby to take their place.

You can’t sleep. You don’t even try, it’s pointless. The concept feels foreign the longer you sit here by yourself. You don’t hear Din or the baby anymore, but you feel… so fucking awful that it’s fitting that you don’t knock or go looking. You don’t want to hold that sweet child with hands that were covered in blood just a few hours ago. You killed more people than you can count on your fingers today, and of the ones who had done nothing wrong… They screamed like younglings, ducked for cover and were able to fire off one single useless shot in the mayhem before you closed their eyes forever and left their bodies to rot in armor that wasn’t ever their choice to wear.

You didn’t know they were kidnapped and smuggled and forced into that situation. You couldn’t have known, but that isn’t the point. In this case, knowing doesn’t make one bit of difference.

You also can’t face Din yet, not like this. You don’t want him to see you cowering, shattered with guilt over the decisions you made under pressure. How will you ever get him to forgive you for not listening to him when you can’t even forgive yourself for the result of your choices? Din is a hardened man who grew up in blasterfire and bloodshed, just because you love him doesn’t mean he’s going to magically become someone he isn’t. You’re here letting guilt sink sharp claws into your chest over four dead men when he had a good fifty or more corpses scattered on the battlefield around him. You decided to wear that armor, you decided to fly into an imperial base with the kid on your lap, and this is now your penance. You’ll accept it with your back straight and your chin held high.

Figuratively, of course. Physically, you’re smaller than you’ve ever been. Crumpled up into a ball, taking up as little space as possible, curling up as tight as you can like an animal protecting all your vulnerable parts during a brutal attack.

So, since he isn’t here to comfort you himself, you just try to think about what he would tell you. A long time ago, what would he tell you?

Din would tell you… that you killed someone. Multiple people, this time. He’d also tell you that it doesn’t matter what he tells you, what you could have reasonably foreseen or what you should have done. The end result won’t change. You own this now. You’ll carry their deaths with you.

You take a few deep breaths, self-soothing with the undeniable truth that would be murmured matter of factly from his quiet voice. He wouldn’t argue with you. He wouldn’t deny the decisions you made or the consequences of them. It happened, and at the end of the day, you either learn how to handle that, or you don’t.

And, for the four you did shoot, you were responsible for freeing ten times that amount. You’re responsible for reuniting Oshua Ryler with his family, even if your place in yours is momentarily shunned. You’d rather be out here alone than in there with the kid, wondering where his dad is or if he’s even still alive. You rescued Din and now he gets to be here to shut this door on you, hold his son, and whisper calm reassurances to him. If you listen really hard and imagine, you can pretend they’re for you, too.

That’s it. Focus on them both, alive and well together. Focus on the bodies wearing white armor that were moving, the ones that were bolting away from the imperial training base as fast as they could, free from the torture of imprisonment and conditioning.

Finally, you close your eyes and slip into unconsciousness. It’s not a testament to your exhaustion, but rather just how long you’ve been left to sit here by yourself. Hours, maybe. Time is strange in hyperspace.

You dream of a faceless man ringing bells.

---

When you wake up, a small baby has been placed in your arms, and you’re being dragged into a strong, secure beskar hold on the floor.

“Din,” you suddenly lift your head as soon as you’re conscious and nearly bonk it into solid metal, apologies rising in your throat before you even remember where you are. You did what needed to be done to keep your family alive and together and you’d do it a thousand times again if necessary, but that doesn’t mean you won’t apologize anyways. After the deeds you’ve committed today, regret feels as natural on your lips as speaking your own name. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re mad at me but I—”

“Shh,” he whispers, running his gloves through your hair. He’s still wearing his helmet, he hasn’t taken anything off yet. “Don’t say anything. Just… stay here, stay right here with me.”

“I tried to save you,” you croak, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You did save him. You saved him and the baby and yourself but you’re so physically and emotionally exhausted that all you can recall is your intent. “I tried. Wasn’t gonna leave you there by yourself. I tried to be brave, like you—y-you wouldn’t have left without me.”

His arms tighten around you, cradling you in such a strong embrace that you burrow into him, you find a place for your head on the hard metal strapped to him and bury yourself there, wishing that you had shovels of dirt being piled on you to justify the death you still feel staining your soul. Your heart is starting to pound now that you’re remembering, your body is starting to shake with tremors of shock now that you’re aware of your own skin again.

“I was so sc-scared, Din, I didn’t—didn’t know what was happening,” you lament through watery eyes, gasping it out in hopes that it’ll relieve the slightest bit of the gut wrenching guilt just mercilessly crushing you. It caught you before you could protect yourself against it, that armor you built around yourself isn’t on when you first wake up. “I-I didn’t want to kill them, but they were already on the ship and y-you said—you said they were coming after the kid s-so I had to, I had to—”

“Stop,” Din whispers, voice so quiet that you can barely hear him.

“I-I cleaned up the blood,” you turn your face against the cold beskar to let all the positives you listed for yourself before scrape across your throat. They don’t sound comforting anymore, they just sound like excuses. “It’s gone, it’s like it never happened, everything is okay now, I got the quarry, I protected the baby, I saved a bunch of people, you’re both safe—”

“Stop,” he chokes out. The modulator cuts off before you can hear his next breath, but you feel it shudder under your body. “St-Stop it, please.”

Your eyes clench shut so tightly you feel like the streaking stars outside are behind them, tears drop down against his pauldron and you press your face tighter to it like it’s a wound, like the pressure will somehow ease the bleeding.

“Listen to me,” he says very quietly, and you instantly brace yourself. The walls you just let down shoot right back up, your body physically tightens in preparation for another pain, another trauma, another scar you’ll carry, and you stop shaking. You stop breathing, even when his hand comes up to ease your face away from his armor.

“You,” he whispers, holding your chin so you’re staring right at him, and your eyes flick fearfully in between his behind the visor, “are a sweet girl.” Din’s leather thumb brushes along your skin, dragging over the tears below your puffy eyes. “Not,” his voice catches, “a Mandalorian.”

Your heart goes cold. Again, everything turns numb. It doesn’t matter that you already said this yourself out loud earlier today. It doesn’t matter that you acknowledged this fact, verbally insisted it more than once to hammer home the truth and felt some sense of comfort in it. For some reason, hearing the words from his mouth is a fucking knife to your chest.

“I taught you how to fight, how to shoot a blaster,” he murmurs, thumb catching every single tear that continues to fall as he speaks. “I taught you everything I know, everything that’s been taught to me. I taught you how to defend yourself, how to protect yourself when you’re in danger. I gave you your blaster, I gave you my armor, I gave you everything I could give you to keep you safe. And when I thought you were ready, I let you loose on Sanctuary II. Do you know why I did that?” The helmet tips forward the slightest bit at the question, probing deep into the most shattered part of your heart. “After all those months of fighting, and shooting, and training, do you know why I told you to run?”

You blink silently at him, a shaky breath quaking through you, and your expression wants to crumple under the reprimand. You’re so fragile right now, taking hit after hit after hit to the softest parts inside you, and you want to just give up. Let the guilt and remorse take you, let it wash you away. But then, instead…

There’s a flicker of something inside you. Something strong, endlessly strong, and it makes you want to revolt against what he’s saying. It replaces the hurt and fear and desperation for comfort with a strange sense of insurgence, like it did earlier when you were hiding behind a boulder, cowering and trembling and not wanting to die. You’re filled with a quiet urge to defend yourself in the face of this, stand up for yourself and refuse to be beaten down any longer.

“Because you needed to know how to escape danger,” he answers himself when you don’t. “You needed to know how to disappear, how to outsmart any pursuer and find safety, even the trained ones. Especially the trained ones. Anything else was meant to be your last resort. Not your choice. Not something you chose.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” you admit to him quietly, voice shaky and tears still coming even as you try to speak up for yourself. The regret you carry has nothing to do with this, and you decide right now that you won’t feel bad for saving him. Your hurt comes from the meaningless things, the ones without any need whatsoever, not the necessary ones, and you tried. You repeated his words to yourself over and over again, told yourself to run, told yourself to get to Nevarro, and it wasn’t going to happen. “I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t a choice.”

“It was,” he tells you. He says it softly, whispers it like it’s the gentlest thing in the world, but the power and inherent distance of the armor strapped to his body finds its way into the words. “And it was the wrong one.”

“What was I supposed to do?” You ask, just a hint of that rebellion swimming to the surface now, rising out of the waves of self doubt, the one that feels like a spine growing in your back, an energy coursing through your veins that makes your heart start to beat faster. Din’s hand slowly drops from your cheek but you don’t care. “Was I supposed to run away and just let you die?”

“Yes.” It’s quick and blunt and completely emotionless. Delivered like a punch to the vulnerable parts of yourself he taught you how to protect, and the utter silence following this single word is comparable to the physical pain you learned to defend against. It jabs hard against everything good and sweet and tender inside of you, and you’re left speechless even as he continues impassively. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.”

It takes a second, but then that unfamiliar feeling suddenly surges up, breaches with the power of an entire ocean. Your voices may be nothing more than whispers in the dark, you may be clinging to each other, holding each other with the softest, gentlest love in your hearts, but the strength of your conviction on this would rip metal apart.

“No.” The word holds the might of your entire being, and it stands alone and defiant in the face of everything you fear, everything that threatens you, him, and this child. Never. You’ll die before that happens. “I love you, and there’s nothing in this galaxy that would ever make me do that. Not fear, not danger, not the Empire, nothing. Not even you.”

Din stares at you. His visor reflects your hardened expression back to you, the force in your soul and the purpose in your eyes, and you don’t even realize the gravity of what you just said because like your love for him, gravity is a constant. It’s a fundamental truth cemented into the rules that govern your actions and it stays true no matter where you are, no matter what terror you face, or how scared you become. You have him, you have this little boy in your arms, and if that’s all you have, then you have everything.

After an eternity of this, of feeling his eyes pierce deep into you from behind the helmet while you refuse to wither under his stare, you watch him slowly turn and look down, landing on the sleepy child tucked between you both. He holds there for a long time, before finally whispering, so quiet that the modulator barely picks it up, “It was the wrong choice.”

You stay quiet. It happened. What’s done is done, you can’t change the past. He can scold and reprimand you about this as much as he wants, but you did the right thing and that decision is the only reason he’s even here to be able to do so. This exhausted child was reunited with his father because of your choices, and this exhausted father was reunited with his child. You won’t argue anymore, but it’s a certitude that lives deep in your heart now, builds a home there right alongside the both of them. Din eventually looks up, his eyes find yours again behind the visor, and his hand rises once more to gently cup your jaw.

“I… thought I’d enjoy seeing you in my armor,” Din finally whispers. It’s not what you expected, but his voice sounds… weak. Broken. “You wore mine once before, and it was…” He brushes his thumb along your cheek, and then his head shakes slightly, pushing the thought away. “It wasn’t real. It didn’t fit. It dwarfed you, it made you look out of place, it made everything soft and innocent about you stand out. I liked it because it wasn’t real.”

“Was it… really that bad?” You whisper back, partially to ease the tension just slightly but quickly breaking eye contact with him when you realize it doesn’t land correctly, it just sounds self conscious and sad. You try to find that conviction again, that strength and assurance that propped you up so sturdily before, but… Not a Mandalorian, he’d said. Of course not. Of course not.

“It wasn’t the armor.” Din gently tugs up on your face so that you look at him again. “It was you covered in blood. It was you purposefully putting yourself in danger. You killed multiple armed soldiers of the Empire, you dragged their bodies off the ship. And then you flew into an imperial base, where you killed the officers, too. You…” He shakes his head slowly at you while speaking, and although you can’t see his face, you don’t need to in order to hear the horror in his voice. “You… collected a quarry… in the middle of a massacre, sweet girl.”

Not a Mandalorian.

“You don’t chase down bounties,” he tells you. “You don’t fly into war zones. You don’t kill imperials, you don’t collect quarries, you don’t sacrifice yourself, or our son, to save me. You said you tried to be brave… like me.” His fingers tighten against your cheek, he dips his helmet to make sure you understand. “I’ll never ask you to be brave. I’ll ask you to survive.”

“I’m… sorry,” you finally whisper, and his arm drops from your cheek to join the other in wrapping around you and holding tight. They hug you and squeeze, encasing you and the baby in a beskar shield and staying there for a long time. Long enough for you to tuck your head back into its proper place under his helmet, long enough to start to feel okay with the silence again. It brutalized you the last time you were surrounded by it, it made you feel alone and desolate and barren inside. You greet it warily now, settling into it for an unknown amount of time until it’s forgiven once more.

After a while, Din quietly breaks it.

“How many?” He murmurs to you. You already know exactly what he’s asking, there's no more clarification necessary on his behalf.

You slowly close your eyes and think back to the smoldering craters, the blood soaked ramp, the fear in Oshua Ryler’s eyes as he begged you not to kill him.

“That didn’t deserve it?” You ask, clenching your eyes tighter at the memory. “Four.”

And maybe, maybe six or eight months ago, you would’ve begged for some guidance on how to reconcile that. Hell, maybe a few hours ago, you could’ve used his arms around you exactly like this, his low voice repeating the same things he’s already told you before, over and over again, if only for some semblance of stability when everything feels turbulent and uncertain. You’ll never be able to change it, though. This belongs to you now.

This time, all Din says is, “I’m sorry, too.”

And that covers everything.

The silence envelops you both again, but… there’s something else. Something that still sits deep in your worries, an image that isn’t a scar of what’s happened but a dread of what’s to come. You need to tell him. You don’t feel like saying it, you don’t want to speak it aloud for fear of bringing it into existence, but you need to tell him.

“Din?” You breathe out, and he makes a soft noise in his throat while cuddling you on the floor. “I saw…,” you whisper, every word sitting tight and reluctant in your throat. “Right when we made the jump, I was looking through the window and I-I saw…”

“A star destroyer.” He says it like… like it’s the worst thing in the world and also completely expected at the same time. He says it like he already knew, yet can’t even imagine. You lean every bit of your weight against him since you can’t hold him in return, squish him as best you can against the small corner and curl up even tighter in his arms for comfort.

He takes a deep breath, a shuddery sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard him make before. It holds untold anxiety, unsaid conflict, uncertain action, an unknown path forward.

“I don’t know what to do,” Din eventually whispers to himself, to you, to the baby in your arms. His voice is barely a breath through the modulator, his fingers digging into your skin with how many emotions he’s repressing. “What do I do?”

He sounds so distressed that you automatically feel your soul find the floor—instantly, you become steady and calm and you locate all that rationality that kept you going today. All your worries still twist deep down, all the guilt and the turmoil wrestles with your soft, easy nature until you can only find bits and pieces of it in the most vulnerable places inside you, but if he’s struggling this terribly, then the least you can do is offer some good, true, unwavering faith in times of uncertainty. You’re in hyperspace, everything worked out, and it’s going to stay that way for right now. If he doesn’t know how to talk about it yet, then you trust him enough to wait for him.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him with a newfound confidence and purpose, carefully easing the baby into one arm so that the other can find its way to the other side of his helmet and pull him closer. Din tucks his head and allows you to brush your lips against the metal, whisper the words soft and steady to him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

---

@cptnbvcks thank you so much for the incredible art!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

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sprainedwriting · 3 years

Text

why can't you see me (4)

chapter one

I deleted chapter 4&5 because I thought they were trash 😔

_______________

it all started with vocaloid covers. yes, you're also cringing right now. you were how old? 12? 13? it doesn't really matter, to make it short: a few years ago you posted a shitty cover, of an edgy song.

you went viral. thousands of likes and comments were made on your YouTube video, which was recorded with your laptop microphone.

not going to lie, you were shocked. holy fuck? people liked you? your content? that's new.

well, not really. your best friend at the time told you to upload it. he supported you! how nice of him.

one cover caused 2 to be made, then 3, then 4 and after 10 covers you posted your first original song. you didn't actually think that your fans would support it, but they did.

that all happend in the span of a year, or two.

you weren't so sure, you lost your feeling for time a while ago.

after that original song record labels wanted you (you were easy to take advantage of after all). problem was, or still is, you're a minor.

you can't sign anything, you don't have an accutal agent, or manager, you don't have shit. to be honest, you also aren't sure how you're doing it. well, it's easier now because of streaming platforms and your best friend likes to play manager.

it's less stressful at least, you publish whatever you want, when you want it. nobody controls your social media account.

you accutally make money, a lot of it. but to keep yourself humble you donate a huge part, and put the other one in a savings account.

you're so smart! so mature! an old soul! not like the others! a delight to have in class!

you're absolutely burned out.

companies constantly messaging you for you to promote this! newest product! so good! the best thing on the market! when it's trash, a way to get money.

but everything is like that, isn't it? you're also selling trash. making trash music and poetry. wow, you're so special. an artist! royalty, you drew all the album covers yourself? no wonder they look like that.

your age is a mystery, so is your face and real name. people were able to figure out your height by a simple picture of you besides a dresser.

they know you live in japan, you were forced to publish that as you got nearly cancelled for wearing a kimono. life is great!

constant comments and messages of "you changed" were flooding you. of course you changed? bro? you were only 13?

it's called character development.

your fame is basically a secret, besides your best friend and school nobody knows.

you didn't bother telling your father because he didn't want to listen, pretty sad. you tried, you really did but he was busy, as always.

now it's too awkward to tell him.

"hey, papa, by the way im like a prodigy in the music business and i have more instagram followers then you."

yeah, as if (even tho you have to check if you accutally finally got more followers then him).

the older you get, the more followers you get, the less you post.

you're arrogant, they scream.

you're so so tired. constant spotlight. constant critism and people who think you're god. it's so much.

sometimes you're thinking about deleting it all, but you like the attention.

but if you see one more newspaper saying you died or that you're accutally a villain, on god you're going to go crazy.

"Top 10 face claims for faceless celebrities!"

murder on your mind.

______________

toshinori is embarrassed. as he's sitting with his co workers, he feels just straight up bad that he accutally has to think hard about his kid hobby.

"well.. they like cats? and.. ah! they play the guitar."

"acoustic or electric?"

"...there is more then one guitar type?"

his three coworker sighed. well, earserhead would, if he wasn't asleep.

midnight looked at the clock and quickly stood up, "well, i have to go! the kids don't teach themselves."

the two others also quickly realised the time, toshinori stood up, while present mic woke earserhead up.

god, he has to think of a bonding activity. concerts? no, it wouldn't work out for different reasons.

what did you talk about last time he saw you?

when was the last time he saw you?

shacking his head, he quickly remembered an email from your school.

your school was hosting an internship! that's the solution! you work here for a few weeks, he works here! perfect! what could go wrong?

__________

"no."

"why not?"

"because i said no?" with that you turned back to your computer.

"well, i think it would be a great learning experience!"

"and i think it would be very useless for me. i'm not interested in hero's. besides that, i already got a place at a company which I'm accutally interested in." you don't.

"it's not about hero's, it's about teaching."

"I hate children."

"you are also a child?"

"yes, and have you ever seen me get along with somebody my age?"

silence. he feels defeated. maybe he needs to put his foot down?

"you're going to work at UA during your internship, this is finally." thinking about it, he wasn't even sure if UA does internships.

"no, nice try though! appricate the effort. now get out, it's not halloween yet so i don't need any skeletons in my room."

toshinori has to take a deep breath to remind himself that you're just a kid. he can fight you physically once you're 18.

using your full name to get your attention, he used his last card, "please do the internship with me. see it as an bonding experience."

"..okay whatever, but if it sucks i can get another cat."

toshinori felt like a winner, but he needs to ask nezu first. the internship is still a few months away, who knows what will happen during these months.

#all might imagine #toshinori imagine #bnha imagine #mha angst #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #toshinori yagi imagine

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thespianbooks · 3 years

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 21//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Sorry this is later than usual folks! Busy schedule, but I’m determined to still post on Monday’s regardless!

XXX

I couldn't have been more elated than I was when Madja officially lifted my period of confinement and bedrest. Another couple of weeks flew by since receiving the news of Eris becoming the new High Lord of Autumn, and things were moving fast. After initially sending out invitations to our allies; directing them on where to send their armies and encouraging them and their entourages to come and stay in Velaris, the last thing I wanted was to be restricted to switching from my place in bed or ambling around the estate with little else to do while Rhys, Mor, and Clotho worked seamlessly to create adequate accommodations for our guests. Though we didn't have a palace like Thesan's to host them as he did for our summits, we had more than enough space for them with the guest suites I drew into the blueprints for the estate. However, neither Rhys nor Clotho allowed me to do anything while still in recovery—even when the first of the High Lords and their entourages began to arrive.

Helion was the first, with Thesan following only a couple of days later. With them being the closest to our court, they wasted no time in gathering their numbers and were in Velaris within days following their armies. They both marveled at how far along I was now, and especially at the impressively large mound my belly had grown to. Helion had cracked a joke about my size, which earned a protective growl from my mate and an earnest laugh from me. Thesan had been rather stunned and actually worried that I might go into labor at any given second; so, whenever we were in the same room, he watched me with wary eyes—afraid that any sudden movement might bring about the labor pains. He had reacted the same way with Viviane when she attended our last summit; using whatever resources he had at his disposal, like having every available midwife in the palace, in order to make sure she was comfortable and in case of emergency.

As our plans continued to move forward, I slowly and surely regained my strength with faithful reassurance from our healer that my health was flourishing. Finally, after an agonizing two weeks—where I grew more and more antsy and eager to jump into some kind of work, Madja announced that I was fully recovered and that I had officially entered the final stage of my pregnancy. With approximately two and a half months left, ending this coup was our crucial next step in preparing for our son. The last thing Rhys and I wanted was to welcome him into the world while simultaneously trying to quell the civil unrest in our court. With the threat having loomed over us since the beginning of my pregnancy and causing my mate and I great periods of stress and nearly cost us our son's life, ending Keir's act of tyranny would grant us the peace that was long ago stolen from us. Now that the end was in sight, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief—knowing that our chances of a favorable outcome was just within our reach, and then we could shift our focus back onto welcoming our baby.

Madja's announcement had come just in time as well. Kallias and Viviane were due to finally arrive this afternoon, along with their newborn Eira. With Helion and Thesan well-adjusted and working closely with Rhys, Tarquin also having arrived just a few days ago, Kallias and Viviane were the last of our allies we would host—Tamlin and Eris remaining at their prospective courts for now but sending their contingencies of armies ahead of them. The Winter couple had wisely decided to wait the longest in order to allow the bond between them and Eira to calm. In her letters following Eira's birth, Viviane explained that while she was recovering from the ordeal, Kallias's mated instincts caused him to shelter her and Eira for nearly a month. They were also adjusting to their newborn daughter, and as mates, both of their instincts sent them into a frenzy—their innate urges compelling them to shelter their child. The first three months had been critical, Viviane explained, not only for her and Eira's recovery from the birthing process, but also in learning how to parent their daughter while their natural tendencies ruled them. Over those last three months, their compulsions slowly ebbed back into a sense of normalcy and they were able to integrate themselves back into civilization.

Rhys and I understood that level of vulnerability in a mated bond, having experienced it ourselves during my own convalescence. It only made us all the more grateful that they chose to side with us to end our dilemma, and it also provided a safe haven for Viviane and Eira. Viviane was nowhere near ready to fight three months postpartum, and since she and Kallias still couldn't be parted with each other for long, she and her baby would remain safe with me while Kallias and Rhys worked together with the other High Lords when the time for the confrontation finally came.

"Mind already abuzz this morning, Feyre darling?" Rhys purred in my ear; the arm thrown over my waist moving to pull me closer while we lay in bed.

I smiled, letting him bring me closer until my back was flush against the hard planes of his chest. I lazily checked to make sure my mental shields were intact, having just recently been able to keep them in place once again, while his lips drew a lazy line of kisses from my ear to the crook of my neck.

"How did you know?" I asked softly, turning my head into his.

"I don't need to read your mind in order to tell when you're excited, my love," he hummed.

My smile grew with a quiet laugh that quickly turned into a soft gasp as he rolled his hips into mine. I breathed his name, ready to reluctantly protest until he reminded me that with my lying-in suspended, we were clear to resume our bedroom activities—as promised between a private conversation with him and the healer. Another roll of his hips had me nodding eagerly at his silent request. Our joining was slow and gentle—Rhys taking me from behind at a leisurely pace. We took our time enjoying ourselves, delighting in being unhurried and reaching our peaks at staggered intervals.

"Now we can both greet the day with a better sense of ease." Rhys said as he nipped at my earlobe afterwards, his voice still deep and husky.

I laughed and turned onto my back to face him, resting a hand on my belly as I released a deep and relaxed sigh. "We're really going to be okay, aren't we?" I asked.

He placed a hand next to mine, running it up and down the expanse of my stomach gently. "Are you having doubts?"

I paused in thought. "I've just...been afraid. I know the situation isn't as dire as it was with Hybern, but the stakes still feel so much higher this time…"

"That's understandable," he said as he looked at my stomach. "This time you're pregnant, and we do have more to lose."

I frowned, tears swelling and threatening to fall before Rhys pressed a reassuring kiss to my brow. "But we are going to be okay, Feyre. I have promised you from the beginning that we would make it through this ordeal together, and we have. We're so close, and Keir will be dealt with. Then in a matter of months we'll be holding our son in our arms knowing his world is safer," he promised.

I blinked away my tears, Rhys brushing his thumb along my cheek gently. "I love you," I whispered.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to my lips this time. "I love you, Feyre," he said and moved to kiss the top of my stomach gently. "And I love you too, my son."

I loosed another long breath, allowing it to calm the last of my nerves as Rhys moved back to his place at my side. "Are you feeling well enough to have breakfast with the others?" He asked.

I nodded. "Should I scare Thesan by faking a few early labor pains?"

He threw his head back with a loud laugh. "You might just scare everyone, my love, including our friends who also heed your condition at all times," he answered.

I giggled and sighed dramatically. "That would be a little mean, wouldn't it?"

"Positively cruel, Feyre darling."

"All right, but I still want to find some way to torture Thesan, just a little bit."

Rhys laughed again before climbing out of bed, pulling me along with him as we began our routine in preparing for the day.

XXX

Eira was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.

She was technically the only baby, human or high fae, that I had ever seen; yet I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Viviane and Kallias arrived promptly after lunch; Kallias having safely winnowed the three of them to the main port in Velaris, where Rhys and I happily greeted them. A sleeping Eira was wrapped up in swaddling blankets, tucked into her mother's arms and I noticed this time it was Viviane who looked wary of her surroundings rather than her mate. At the summit, Kallias had been the one on high alert—his feral intuition heightened as a natural reaction to protect his vulnerable mate. Now it seemed their roles were reversed.

While Viviane was more than glad to see me, and even delighted in how much my belly had grown over the months, she kept Eira close to her chest the entire time it took us to walk back to the estate. Even now, as the four of us were gathered in the largest guest suite we had, Viviane was perched on the settee, cradling the baby close as she nursed—Kallias and Rhys in the adjoining sitting room to allow them privacy.

"She's so tiny," I breathed, marveling as I watched the small bundle in her arms.

Viviane brightened. "She's actually a lot bigger than when she was first born," she said, touching her youngling's pale rounded cheek.

I stared as Eira let out a small groan in response to her mother's touch, continuing to suckle quietly. Her hair, as white as her parents, was a smooth and thin coating on her perfectly round head; her eyes as icy blue as Kallias's, while the rest of her features resembled Viviane exactly. She reminded me of the female's sister, who I had only seen a handful of times since the war. After recalling a conversation where the two mentioned their looks came from their family's strong lineage, it came as no surprise to see that Eira was a carbon copy of her mother.

"Does that hurt?" I asked.

"Nursing?" She shook her head when I nodded, "Not really. It took some time to adjust at first, but it's not exactly painful."

I brushed an idle hand along the expanse of my belly. "There's so much I don't know yet," I sighed.

She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry Feyre, I had no idea what I was doing either. Right before the summit, I received a long lecture from my team of midwives on what to expect and how to care for her properly. I'm sure your healer is preparing to give you the same lesson."

I cringed. "She did say that starting at my next appointment she would be bringing along the midwife, her sister, now that I'm in the final weeks."

"Then you still have plenty of time to learn," she said. "How are you feeling?"

I sighed again as I rested against the settee. "Still tired. I'm hungry almost every hour of the day, and my back is unbelievably sore by the end of the night."

She smiled empathetically. "Are you feeling more movements from him?"

I nodded. "All the time. He's very...energetic these days, especially when Rhys is in the room, which is often. He loves to kick and stretch," I rubbed a spot on my belly for emphasis. "He used to take naps, I think, but in the last week I'm pretty sure he's decided that he won't sleep again until he's born."

Her answering laugh was melodic, Eira's stunning blue eyes fluttering open in response to the sound. "He probably won't sleep then either. Kallias and I are lucky if we get a couple of hours now; it's gotten better in the last month, but at first it's rough adapting to her schedule."

I gulped as I stared at my stomach, wondering if Rhys and I would be tormented by lack of sleep. "I don't mean to scare you," Viviane giggled. "It just takes some time to become accustomed to a youngling that's all. Once you actually see him, hold him, and nurse him...your world will revolve around him." She explained, pulling Eira away from her breast and adjusting her top expertly before scooping the youngling back up into her arms as she patted her back gently.

I laughed as that patting elicited the tiniest burp I had ever heard. "I'm assuming that's part of the nursing process?"

Viviane nodded, "Oh yes. These little ones tend to get gassy, so we help them along."

I paused for a moment as I watched her kiss Eira's cheek, cradling her close, and I imagined how in only a matter of months I would be doing the same with my son.

"Since you're here...I know you said as much in your letters...but how bad is it really? Labor?" I asked timidly.

She smiled sheepishly before contemplating how to answer me. I knew the last thing she wanted to do was instill fear in me, but I also knew she would be honest.

"I'll tell you what my midwives told me: every female's experience is different. Just as our pregnancies might differ, so will our labor's. For me, while my cycles are less than pleasant and always excruciating, I managed to find a way to alleviate the pains over the centuries. Because of that, I thought my labor would be...manageable. Unfortunately, I was wrong. It was...the hardest thing I had to endure. The pain left me...disconnected, in some way," she paused as the memories came back to her. "But Kallias was there the whole time. He kept me grounded and helped me through it all to the very end. I don't know what I would've done without him,"

She reached over to grip my hand gently. "But Feyre, you shouldn't be scared. Your mate, your Rhysand, will be there with you every step of the way too. I've seen the bond between you two, the love you share, and I have no doubt that he'll guide you through it all no matter how smooth or brutal the process might be. Who knows, maybe with his daemati abilities he could…"

I shook my head. "I don't want him to numb me. I...I want to be able to go through it as every female has for centuries. His mother endured it twice, and I figure if she could do it, if you could, then so can I."

"Of course, Feyre, if that's what you want. You do whatever is right for you," she affirmed. "In all honesty though, with Rhysand at your side you have nothing to worry about, and at the end of it all you'll welcome your son into a safe home."

I squeezed her hand, "I hope so," I admitted. I didn't have to reiterate how unsettled the coup, the very reason why she and our other allies were gathered in Velaris, left me.

She, as a new mother herself, understood perfectly. "You will," she promised. "And then you'll get to hold your beautiful boy. Have you wondered what he might look like yet?"

The image of the Bone Carver came to mind. Of those violet-blue eyes that nearly resembled mine, while all his other features were completely and utterly Rhysand.

"He'll look like Rhysand, I just know it." I said as I caressed my stomach lovingly, earning a glimmer and kick in response.

Viviane warmed as she looked at Eira, who now peacefully slept in her arms. "I was so glad when I saw that she had Kallias's eyes. I had a feeling that with my lineage she would look like me, but I still hoped she might look at least a little like Kallias. She has his spirit too, at least so far," she smiled as she smoothed the hair on the younglings head. "And Kallias, he dotes on her so much already. She hardly cries; all she has to do is wrinkle her little brow and he scoops her up."

"They say you can't spoil them at this age, but I'm sure he will as the years go on," she said.

"As I should," came her mate's voice as he walked in the room with Rhysand at his side.

My mate winked at me as he entered the room, crossing over to my side at the same time as Kallias came to Viviane's.

"I doubt our friends in the Night Court will be any different, especially with their brood." Kallias said with a smirk at me, before checking on his sleeping daughter. I noticed his fingers twitch, as if he might pick her up, but Viviane's hold was unrelenting.

"Viviane's maternal instincts are very...formidable." Kallias suddenly said, realizing my mate and I must have noticed that he hadn't held his daughter at all since their arrival. "The midwives warned us that it relates to our primitive ways; that females tend to be overprotective of their younglings for the first few months."

I blinked, and Viviane smiled sheepishly. "Back at home I don't have a hard time letting him hold and change her, but I think it's because of the change in environment now that I'm struggling."

Rhys and I exchanged an astonished look and I shrugged. "Well at least you know I won't be purposefully refusing to let you hold our son," I offered.

He smirked. "Poor Mor will be doubly disappointed, as will everyone else."

"It'll only really be intense the first week, for both of you actually," Viviane said. "The mating bond will make you both sensitive to outside influence, similar to when the bond first clicked into place."

Kallias shifted uncomfortably at the mention of something so intimate, but Rhys nodded in understanding. "We'll be in the Cabin for the duration of Feyre's recovery, so that should help."

I nodded. "The Cabin is also where you, my sisters, and I will be going...when that time comes."

"Are there any updates on that end?" Kallias asked, and I wondered what he and Rhys had been discussing in the other room if not about the business of ending the coup. "What did Eris's last report say?"

"He's managed to keep Keir at bay, hashing out details and negotiations for their supposed alliance and dragging them out for as long as he's needed to replenish the armies affected by their fighting," Rhys began. "According to his latest report, we should be expecting his soldiers any day now, along with Tamlin's."

"And then?" Viviane asked, holding Eira impossibly closer.

"Then we will lift the wards on our numbers, and have them march on the Ironcrest camp," Rhys started.

"Where that coward, Kallon, will inform Keir, and summon him here?" Kallias finished.

Rhys nodded. "Then we put an end to this for good."

I shivered at the darkness that laced in the promise of his words, and he quickly placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"What will you do with them?" Viviane quietly asked.

"Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel will deal with the Illyrians. As for Keir, we'll be handing him over to Mor. She's free to do as she wishes with him" I answered. Viviane nodded in approval, knowing the history and relationship our friend had with both her parents.

"Are you sure we can trust all of this in Eris's hands?" Kallias asked, his demeanor having shifted to a harder one.

"Azriel is keeping a close watch with his network of spies," I answered for Rhys.

"Not to mention with his court being in such shambles, entering another war against all of us, would be an extremely foolish move on his end," my mate added.

I scoffed. "Plus, he's probably enjoying his new position too much to risk losing it."

Our friends shared a wary glance, their eyes conveying their own silent exchange. "We trust you," Viviane finally said, adjusting Eira in her arms.

Rhys dipped his head in acknowledgement before turning to Kallias. "We'll ensure Viviane and Eira are safe with Feyre and her sisters in the cabin. Since the attack on Velaris we've set up stronger wards on all our properties."

Kallias's tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit at Rhys's reassurance for his daughter and Viviane's safety.

"I guess this time around you two will have to do without us." Viviane joked half-heartedly, though I could tell she harbored the same desire I had to do more for this fight.

You are doing plenty, my love, I promise you, Rhys said through the bond.

By that you mean carrying Sebastian? I mused back.

That is the most important thing right now, and more than I could have ever asked for.

I smiled at him, squeezing the hand on my shoulder, but we both looked up as a knock came from the sitting room. I saw Viviane flinch, bringing Eira close again.

"It's just Mor," Rhys reassured before waving a hand, opening the door for her.

Viviane smiled sheepishly at me as Mor entered the room. The blonde brightened when she saw her friend, but wisely didn't rush over to embrace her after noticing how protectively she held her child.

"Sorry to interrupt, I know you wanted to wait to greet the rest of us at dinner," Mor said empathetically to Viviane and Kallias. "But Azriel's spies returned from the Autumn Court with a report from Eris," she said to Rhysand and I.

"What did it say?" I asked, my heart beating faster.

"He's finalized his 'plans' with Keir, and his soldiers just arrived at Windhaven," she replied, her dark eyes hardening.

"What about the troops Spring promised?" Rhys asked, voice equally serious-his dark shadows beginning to stir.

I noticed the room growing colder as Kallias's own powers stirred at the news. "Cassian reported they're set to arrive at dawn," Mor said.

"So, it's time then, to lift the wards?" I asked—my words coming out more tense than I meant.

Rhys nodded stiffly. "As soon as the Spring soldiers arrive, we'll lift the wards. Keir and Kallon will surely meet us once we arrive at the Ironcrest camp."

"How long will that take, approximately?" Kallias asked, moving closer to his wife and mate-who rested her cheek atop Eira's head, still swaddled and sleeping in her arms.

"A day or two, at the most," Rhys answered.

We all exchanged the same strained, knowing, look and I wondered if they could hear the pounding of my heart as it settled over me that the time for this ill-fated encounter was at last about to reach its conclusion.

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atlascas · 3 years

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DEANCAS FIC REC

(last updated 7/1)

FINALLY. this is like. just a place for me to rec and write excessively abt the fics i've been reading lately. it won't be organized but it WILL be very earnest and i'll keep it updated as i find/remember more. also i have obnoxiously high standards when it comes to fic so these ARE the cream of the crop, if u will. the god tier. the s tier.

very loosely organized into "newer fic" and "classics." these are subjective categories. do what you will

✨ = new fic on the list

💖 = in my brain rent free!

CURRENTLY READING

these are the fics that i’m currently reading! may or may not get recced. usually i read the first couple paragraphs/lines and if i like the writing it gets bookmarked and put on this list.

lazarus needs a robe of scarlet thread by herrosesneverfall, 90k, canonverse au. dean starts getting stigmata. when i was getting back into spn there were a LOT of religious fics flying around bc that was the Hot Topic of Discussion. this was one of them

Three weeks ago, Dean woke up in a pine box. He thought dealing with the nightmares was going to be the most difficult part of his new life after Hell, but at least they were something he could understand. Something he could deal with. Something he deserved.

Then he began having agonizing visions of crucifixion. Wounds appeared on his body out of nowhere. Wounds that refused to heal and coated his skin with the sickly sweet smell of roses.

Stigmata are said to be the marks of saints, but Dean is not a saint and the wounds are only the beginning.

kingdom come by ahurston, 8.7k, coda to 15x18. cas gets to go home. im gathering all the s15 fix-its to my heart and holding them close

Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.

hunger by ellispark, 10.8k, s13 au. dean grieves cas, post s12 finale. perfect writing perfect awful heartwrenching characterization so far on dean’s end especially towards jack. nuanced emotional writing

Dean takes his meal and throws it away, plate and all. He's not hungry. How can he even begin to eat, knowing what he kept from Cas — what he kept from both of them?

They could have had something, and now all Dean has is this gaping, empty hole in his stomach, in his chest, and he has to learn to breathe and eat and move around it.

the law of equivalent exchange by awed_frog, 60.8k, canonverse. cas loving dean in all permutations of humanity, throughout time.

“And what’s the point of it?”

“Of love? There isn’t one. Loving is its own purpose.”

NEWER FIC

“newer” just means “i discovered it in 2020/2021 after coming back to spn fandom” so it very well could have been published before 2015 but really who’s checking. not me that’s for sure.

💖 so says the sword by komodobits, 85k, s4 au. cas guards the michael sword in the beautiful room. this is easily the MOST obvious rec on this entire list but it was the first fic i read when i got back into spn this year and jesus christ it set the bar sky fucking high. the way they create a coherent mythology out of the mess that is spn canon is incredible.

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

assimilation by komodobits, 5.6k, coda to 12x01. mary meets dean and cas and they go to find sam. such good character studies of all three of them. the best mary pov fic i’ve read

Mary always thought you were supposed to be able to tell. That you could just look at someone and know they were – you know. One of that sort. It’s not supposed to happen to her son.

cuckoo and nest by komodobits, 10k, ambiguously canonverse. dean and cas navigate relationship anxiety. cute, in character, and their relationship is realistic and the conflict well-written and emotionally nuanced and really really really good.

For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental.

It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless.

💖 one white lie by komodobits, 11k, au. cas panics when trying to ask dean out and has to fake being a jehovah’s witness. it’s adorable and hilarious and it’s been ages since i actually got butterflies at a kiss in a fic but this did it. it did it. it felt like someone swaddled my soul in a cashmere blanket and kissed me on the forehead

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

a crash course in someone else’s history by annie d (scaramouche), 11.5k, set during s6. cas comes to as his s4 self without any memories of the past two years and has to figure out what the fuck is going on. it’s kind of like so says the sword. you’ll know it when you get to it.

Castiel is captured inside a trapping circle of holy oil set by Dean and Sam Winchester. The brothers call him "Cas", claiming that he has amnesia and that he is obligated to help them take down Crowley to atone for his betrayal of them. It's the strangest story Castiel's ever heard, and one he doesn't have time for because he's only just raised Dean from Hell and has work to get back to.

💖 cas and dean’s adventures in gardening by ahurston, 19k, post-canon au. a series featuring dean and cas living in the bunker, human. cas is very into plants. i read this yesterday actually and it made me smile SO much it’s just so lovely and sweet. i’m also a sucker for any fic where cas has a garden. he deserves a fucking garden okay

In this post-God world, everything is different. A little quieter, a little softer. Cas grows a garden, Dean cooks, and they take care of each other.

tall grass by aeli_kindara, 57k, post-s12. dean and cas live in the bunker on their own, and cas grows a garden. i did say i love fics where cas has a garden. plus domesticity, plus some good case fic, PLUS dean and cas’ relationship is so gentle and good

“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says.

Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away.

Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.

in a week by renrub, 2.3k, post 15x18. cas is in the empty. dean saves him. this is genuinely the best “dean pulls cas out of the empty” fic i’ve read so far like conceptually this entire thing just fucks. when cas is cycling through the barn scene. god. SO well written

Castiel is outside a barn covered in sigils. He frowns. This isn’t right. This has never been something he repented for.

i won’t even wish for snow by annie d (scaramouche), 5.6k, college au. cas goes to the winchesters’ for christmas. honestly scaramouche fics belong in the classics section bc she’s like an og deancas writer but whatever. mistletoe! banter! good in-character au! this fic’s got it all

It’s the third year that Castiel’s spending Christmas with his best friend’s family, and he expects it to be much like the previous two. Then mistletoe happens.

convenient husbands by annie d (scaramouche), 39k, canonverse au. cas is a phoenix, dean is a hunter. they get married and have a sick psychic bond. unexpectedly fluffy considering how the fic starts and i love the banter so much and dean/cas’ relationship gets fleshed out and organically developed it’s very cute

"It's only temporary, right?" Dean says. "Just until you're healed up, and then we'll never have to see each other again. So what do you say, Castiel, do you want to marry me or not?"

cinderwings by bendingsignpost, 181k, cinderella au. cas goes to a masquerade ball to save his people from an eternity trapped in a void. he meets prince dean. i can’t tell u how much this fic drew me in - thru good worldbuilding, but mostly thru cas’ social awkwardness. like it works PERFECTLY to his advantage in this fic and reading how expertly he manipulates social situations w/o any fucking idea what he’s doing is both hilarious and inspiring

Under the cover of a masquerade ball, Castiel has five nights to recover the key to his people's freedom. The world has changed greatly in the six centuries since their banishment into the void, but the task isn't impossible. Unfortunately for Castiel, this is going to involve talking to people - especially the Knight Prince who has taken an interest in Castiel and his "costume" wings.

as the crow flies by bendingsignpost, 3.4k, au. dean and cas go on a roadtrip. cas has wings! it’s so dreamlike and meandering and the slowburn is so good. honestly it reminds me of stevebucky/stevesam post tws era roadtrip fics if ur hip LMAO

Cross country road trips with Cas are the best.

long-term relationship by bendingsignpost, 2.7k, au. dean and cas have a Serious Conversation about their relationship.

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers, 7k, ambiguously canonverse. dean is trans. dean and cas are fucking and lowkey hiding it from sam. perfect character study PERFECT trans dean fic it’s so fucking well-written

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

💖 the love story of the runner up by margo_kim, 4.7k, ambiguously canonverse. cas tries dating other men. bear with me here. this is an outside pov fic from an oc named miguel who is WONDERFULLY characterized and very endearing like i find outsider/oc pov to be on Thin Fucking Ice bc it always ends up as fandom/author self-insert but miguel is his OWN MAN. he gets his own lil arc and everything. dean and cas are concentrated perfectly crystallized versions of themselves and the little glimpses we get of them are amazing. ALSO i wrote like 9k of an spn vent fic (basically the same premise but w an oc named marcus) back in like. freshman yr of hs. so when i first opened this fic i was like what the fuck someone’s been in my google docs. very weird experience 10/10 regardless

“So you saw a white man in a trench coat pop out in an alley,” Paul says, “and you thought, what, ‘I want to see where this is going’?”

“If you get hung up on details like that,” Miguel says, “it will take a very long time to get through this story.”

For a very weird era in his life, Miguel dates an angel who is in love with another man.

sunshine by northernsparrow, 8k, set during s13. dean and cas have a long conversation about their Profound Bond. the description left me off-balance (it really. really truly says “dean is straight in this fic” like okay bro WEIRD hill to die on) but it pulled through w the relationship study and reassurance and snuggles. a sweet fic

One-shot with a single conversation between Dean and Castiel, set in a late-S13-ish world. Gabriel, Cas, Sam & Dean are all living in the bunker together, Gabe's been cracking certain jokes, Sam's found a certain book, Cas is injured and isn’t healing... and it's all making Dean wonder if his angel friend might have some sort of a "bond" with... somebody? Whatever that means.

Maybe it's time for a talk.

💖 still life by catchclaw, 16.5k, post-s8. cas, newly human, goes to live on his own for a while. he and dean maintain a relationship thru the phone. this is LITERALLY the only first person fic i fucking respect okay like i was skeptical! i really was! but the pov is PERFECT and also my man kevin tran is in this fic and i love him and miss him very much. oh and cas going off to explore humanity on his own..............perfect arc. very much in character we love that for him

Dean'd always thought that falling in love was a capital letter kind of thing, an Important Event you carved into the calendar of your life and never, ever forgot. But with he and Cas, it wasn't that simple.

it’s mostly cowardice, and bad timing by ferritin4, 1.6k, pre-canon. actually this one is just a dean study it’s not deancas but i spent an entire night looking for it and i need someone else to read it too. dean is smart!!! SAY THAT

Dean gets his GED.

a list of reasons the bunker shouldn’t get a sofa by lizbobjones, 5.6k, set during s12. sam and dean and mary and cas haul a sofa back to the bunker. cute domesticity and fluff

Let me count the ways that this is a terrible idea.

no kingdom to come by domesticadventures, 16.8k, canonverse. dean and cas deal with being stuck in quarantine in different ways. this is the one and only quarantine fic i’ve read and it’s really good lmao. dean and cas’ relationship is so organic and tentative in this one

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

till the juice runs by deathbanjo, 8.4k, canonverse. it’s like dean’s being cursed to have bad hookups with men. SUCH a funny fic and the deancas tension is so simple and sweet and GOOD. plus cas is so enjoyably characterized here he’s so human and worn in and experienced in his own unique way. perfect use of rowena too

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

turn of the year by kototyph, 3.9k, canonverse au. sam and dean get stuck out in the middle of nowhere on the winter solstice. what i wouldn’t give for a full 80k of this verse actually. also i went on a kototyph binge after reading shut up put your money where your mouth is and they have a SOLID spn repertoire

Fifteen minutes later, Dean gets back in the car with empty hands and ice in his fucking eyebrows. “Get the map out,” he says through chattering teeth, sticking numb fingers under his arms.

Sam holds up the battered 1995 Rand MacNally they keep in the side pocket, turned to a page of uninterrupted green. “We’re going to die,” he announces.

💖 bullets in the gun by kototyph, 4.9k, canonverse au. cas is a cop (i know. still) who gets kidnapped by dean in an unfortunate turn of events. GOD this fic is SO FUNNY. cas’ canny and strategic escape attempts render him a very active VERY funny pov character plus the hate attraction to dean is PERFECTLY WRITTEN VERY BELIEVABLE. dean’s kindness also shines thru even as he literally holds cas hostage like!!!! PERFECT characterization. both of them are so LIKABLE here. if you read anything on this list read this

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m going to need to borrow your car.”

as you will by kototyph, 1.8k, victorian au. cas endures a proposal mishap. it’s cute it’s funny it’s sweet!

"No?" Castiel echoes, dumbly.

and if i was looking too? by kototyph, 2.6k, au. cas is undercover where dean works. this fic is just so cute like. bird angels.................

There are some things Castiel hasn't told Dean, and there are some things he doesn't need to.

the most important thing by northernsparrow, 94.5k, s10 au. amnesiac cas raising claire until he comes across someone familiar. claire is so well characterized here i really loved her arc thruout this fic. she just wants her dad back and u can’t even blame her the author rlly does an amazing job creating realistic and heartbreaking motivations for her. oh and dean and cas (esp cas characterization!) are sweet in this but honestly the highlight IS claire for me

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

there’s only one sure thing that i know by blinkiesays, 20.3k, post-s5. dean goes to help cas out in ohio and they end up building a home together. i love the writing it’s rlly funny and sweet.

Dean doesn't even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby's point: he's faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he's been defeated by the God damn Midwest.

💖 to an angel, love and worship are the same thing by geminisage, 10.3k, post s15 fix it. dean grieves cas - and then cas gets brought back back from the empty. i didn’t have this in my bookmarks so i MISSED it the first time around on this list but this was another one of the fics i came back to spn fandom to. it’s so fucking unique?? it actually reads like spn like i think fic tends to soften dean/cas up and makes them more emotional + emotionally intelligent than is ever shown in the show. here the dialogue/characterization adheres RIGOROUSLY to their communication in canon in that dean’s not overtly emotional, and cas is very reserved. they have to negotiate their relationship exactly like they would in the show. it’s all clipped conversation and anger and hurt and (warning btw) LOTS of internalized homophobia on dean’s end but it’s SO worth it. dean navigating his [GESTURES VAGUELY] everything is compellingly written, emotionally true, and PERFECTLY characterized. cas characterization also amazing like u rlly feel the quiet devoted bittersweet love. ok this was long clearly it’s a good fic go read it now

Just as Dean knew they would, the weeks do stretch into months, and then into a year. Grief never gets easier, Dean knows from experience, but you do get better at it. After all, you can get used to anything.

the violin house by teh_helenables, 8.5k, post-s5. dean and cas build a home after stull. so slow and lovely and sweet and gentle. i need to put this here so that i don’t forget it tbh. it’s very much dean as a war wife cas as the husband away on the front

The Apple Pie Life is a slow process, but Dean and Cas are getting there—until Cas is called for battle and Dean is forced to wait.

💖 muscle memory by komodobits, 18.9k, au. amnesiac cas wakes up three years in the future with dean in his kitchen. komodobits DOES NOT FUCKING MISS!!! i CRIED at the end of this i had NO INTENTION OF CRYING the rest of the fic isn’t even SAD i just had to sit there at the end of it w tears dribbling down my face. INSANE work of art

Dear Castiel,

Hello – it’s Castiel. This must all seem very confusing, and I’m sorry for that. Dean says to tell you that this isn’t some kind of ‘time-travel stunt’, although I’m sure that won’t be your first thought. I know it wasn’t mine. I’ve told Dean to leave now, as this is my notebook and I want everything in it to come from me – or rather, from you. I know you think it's the fifteenth of January, 2010, but it isn't. At the time of my writing this, the date is the fourth of October, 2013. Dean Winchester is your boyfriend of a year and a half, and you no longer work at the library, and in early 2010 you were hit by a car and hospitalised. I’m sorry.

a.k.a the 50 First Dates Dean/Cas AU where Castiel wakes up on a day just like any other, except that three years have passed without his knowing, and Dean Winchester is in the kitchen wanting to marry him.

don’t forget the experience points by annie d (scaramouche), 10.8k, au. cas is sam’s work friend, and he and dean get to know each other. genuinely an adorable fic. i adore cas’ characterization in this it’s snarky AND awkward AND confident in a way that i absolutely believe he would be if he had 30 yrs of human life under his belt

It's because Dean was an awesome brother than he took such an interest in Sam's new friend. No, really. What happened afterwards was mostly an accident.

actus fidei by manic_intent, 5.6k, canonverse au. dean’s a priest, cas is still his angel. i was HOOKED from the description alone like That’s Everything I Love in One Sentence. Cool!!!!!!!!!!!!

On the very first time that Castiel manifests in front of Father Dean Winchester, he gets as far as "Rejoice, for you are blessed-" before Dean shoots him with a salt-loaded shotgun.

not with a bang but a yelp by strange_estrangement, 1.4k, canonverse. team free will leave yelp reviews. this isn’t d/c actually it’s just a crack-ish fic but the formatting is cool and the references are SO funny and so well done

What happens when you visit dozens and dozens of motels every year? You leave Yelp reviews.

the courtship of combat by bendingsignpost, 18.2k, medieval a/b/o au. cas is politically coerced into fighting in a courtship melee for prince dean's hand, and he teams up with two unexpected allies to do it. I KNOW HOW THE ABO THING SOUNDS but i swear it's done well - it's by bendingsignpost so ofc he puts his own spin on the premise. im absurdly into it. PLUS jack is in it!!!!!!! it's technically an unfinished series but the first part is so good just on its own

When pressed upon to mate for a political alliance, Commander Castiel dares to refuse his king. As “I do not wish to mate at all” is clearly the wrong thing to say, Castiel takes the other path and lies. “You must know my affections lie elsewhere, my king.”

King Michael studies Castiel’s face long and hard. Then, with a nod, he snaps his fingers, pointing to Castiel. “The Winchester omega.”

“Yes,” Castiel says with no real recollection of who that is.

The ruse of an unavailable omega works well enough, right up until that omega is no longer unavailable. Then, with what seems to be his entire nation cheering him on toward victory, Castiel must enter the melee to win his mate. Backed by allies, training, and his own natural talents, the only question is how well he can contrive to fail.

four letter word for intercourse by bendingsignpost, 194.7k, au. dean calls a sex hotline. OH BOY solid characterization excellent plot/premise like bendingsignpost is so good at turning absurd premises into realistic, believable fiction. also sex hotline fic is usually a BIG turn-off bc of the power dynamics/one-sidedness of a relationship based on sex work but. BUT. bendingsignpost does it well! it’s not weird at ALL i started reading and was immediately reassured abt its intentions and its plot direction

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

the tunnel of love by xylodemon, 21.4k, post-canon. case fic! dean and cas have to kiss on a loveboat to solve a case >:)

"We might," Cas starts slowly, pausing like he's choosing his words. "We might have to kiss."

Dean just stares at him.

when you have a future. by firebog, 17.6k, post-s8. dean and sam and cas learning to be human post-apocalypse. reminds me of robotmango’s writing! it’s kind of eccentric and very very sweet and funny.

Sam closes Hell. Castiel closes Heaven. The heroes save the day. There's no Heaven or Hell waiting to cause the next big disaster. There's no more end of the world. There's only a squirmy feeling in his chest that feels a lot like freedom. So, now what?

(Things I promise you in this fic: dog poetry, rabbits, and fluff)

six inch heels by alitneroon, 2.3k, canonverse. dean does drag! excellent fucking character study. prose is fantastic

Dean does drag on a whim, and ends up in way over his head.

sharing is caring by gateskeeper, 2.5k, canonverse. five times dean and cas shared something and one time they didn’t. look. sometimes u just need some saccharine tropey fluff. it’s VERY well written

Sam knows that Dean and Cas have shared a lot together, but ever since Cas became human permanently, it seems like they've been sharing a lot more.

Or: five times Dean and Cas shared something special and one time Dean refused to.

💖 empty spaces by schmerzerling, 60k, au. dean has to take care of his dying father, and takes up running to cope. that’s just the beginning. HEAVY trigger warnings for ED (specifically anorexia) and suicidal thoughts. there is a happy ending, but dean has to fight to make it there. god. okay. this is a dark fic. it’s also one of the most well-characterized fics i’ve ever read. dean’s spiral is excruciatingly accurate and written with the kind of wry compassion that comes from either extensive research or extensive experience. it’s also completely immersed in dean’s perspective - dean’s relationship w his dad, dean’s relationship w food scarcity, etc. it’s incredible. it’s kinda scary. it’s deeply sad. cas is explicitly autistic and it’s ALSO incredibly accurate and loving, and makes cas so true to his canon self. ugh. and i burst into TEARS at some of the accompanying art, which is so sparse and lonely and beautiful. 100/10 experience one of the best fics i’ve read this year

Dean is fine. The way he sees it, things are simple. He had a house and a family and food in his stomach, and now he doesn't. And yeah, that's a downer, but he's not going to let that stop him from being fine, because he's in control of the situation. He definitely doesn't need anyone to save him. And it's not like the weird guy with the nice butt from down the road is the knight-in-shining-armor type, anyway.

broken road by thegeminisage, 109.6k, 14x13 au. dean makes a wish and gets more than he bargained for. a lot of “john comes back” fics are kinda short on nuance, which this author has talked about a lot - and oh MAN does this fic deliver on nuance. john’s abuse is absolutely present, but his pov makes him a complex character instead of a flat caricature for dean to reject. and the way this fic resolves really makes it clear that the priority is dean’s emotional well-being over all else!!! this isn’t about dean taking the path fandom thinks he should take w his abuser (killing john, punching john in the face, etc), this is abt dean coming to terms w his abuse and finding his own emotionally satisfying way of resolving it. also dean and cas are in an established relationship and it’s very slow and sweet.

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

home is not a place by imogenbynight, 6.8k, post-s11. human cas struggles with belonging, and dean struggles with their relationship. this reads a lot like komodobits’ cuckoo and nest, but it’s its own sweet little thing. they watch movies!!! very cute

In which Dean is the oblivious one for a change.

love: a retrospective by xylodemon, 40.7k, post-s12. dean tries to deal w cas’ absence after s12 and reflects on their relationship thru the years. this was written before s13 aired, so - no spoilers - but jack plays a different role than he ends up playing in canon. it’s kinda fun seeing ppl’s theories pre-s13 tbh. makes me VERY glad that they took jack in the direction they did in show. anyway this is THEE definitive “they’ve been fucking all along” fic

Pretending Cas is just his friend has been the only thing keeping Dean's head on straight for years. He never realized how much doing that depended on him making himself scarce in the morning ─ not until Cas came back and moved into the bunker.

✨💖 if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee, 37k, post-s15 fix-it. cas gets broken out of the empty - and he immediately makes a break for it. new fave fix-it!!!! the writing is so understated and so straightforward - SO in character for cas tbh - that every single emotional beat feels like a PUNCH. and there are so many amazing character moments it made my chest seize the fuck up!!!!! perfect characterization perfect relationship moments perfect cas/jack parenting moments. the yearning over the phone is OFF THE CHARTS and spocklee makes the most of that tension!!!! PLUS old canon characters get to make fun appearances!!!!! i cannot recommend this shit enough

After the Empty, Cas has to spend some time alone. Orpheus tries to convince Eurydice over the phone that it’s okay to turn around now.

✨ before and after breakfast by spocklee, 10.5k, post-canon. dean and sam and cas tackle a monster of the week case with unexpected consequences. perfect pov perfect relationship moments SUCH GOOD TENSION. again this writing style just lets the tension dial up to 1000% every word is meaningful and it makes my chest hurt!!! spocklee SHOULD have blown up during the spn renaissance and i STAND by that

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

CLASSICS

isn't it cool how every person has diff fics they consider "classics?" anyway these are required fucking reading. if u've been around these will prob be old news.

💖 asunder by rageprufrock, 23k, au. dean and cas go to sam's wedding. i reread this once a year like a religious ritual.

Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. (Matthew 19:6)

💖 the girlfriend experience by rageprufrock, 15k, set during s5. dean teaches cas how to be human. mostly the sex part. literally the gold fucking standard of s4-5 era deancas fic and for deancas fic in general, personally

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

okay, cupid. by orange_crushed, 4.5k, au. dean tries to sign up for an ok cupid profile and has a revelation. as soon as i put this entry down i realized this entire fic rec was an exercise in futility, because if i could i'd literally just rec everything orange_crushed/robotmango has ever written. still one of THEE best authors in this fandom. go read all her fics. i’ll put the highlights here

"The dating thing?" Dean frowns. "Online dating is for weirdos. Robots. Dudes hanging out in their basements."

"You hang out in your basement."

"I have an air hockey table down there,” Dean says, icily.

💖 pwp: pie without plot by orange_crushed and majorenglishesquire, 82k, post-s8. sam and dean and cas quit hunting for a little bit to open a bakery. this is my comfort fic. i love it so so much.

he is in the kitchen with flour on his hands and an apron and there is flour on his forehead and cas leans across the counter and wipes it off with his thumb and dean says "thank you" and cas says "you’re welcome" very seriously and later dean makes apple turnovers and he only ruins them a little and sam realizes it’s not a real hunt like four days into it and he lets dean stay undercover for like a week and a half or longer maybe way longer because he is such a good everything

💖 la cucina by orange_crushed, 4k, post-s8. dean gets into cooking for a newly human cas. it's so gentle and loving and kind and makes me tear up every time. YES food is a comfort item and expression of love for dean. no i don't want to talk about it

Dean turns around and Castiel is picking through the jars, turning them over carefully to read the labels, totally engrossed. Dean watches him.

"Is there," Dean says, "uh, anything in there you like?" Castiel looks up at him and then back at the apples, sitting in a basket on the counter in their golden skins, ripe and pretty. Castiel smiles up at Dean.

"I don’t know yet," he says.

today, your barista verse by orange_crushed, 13.6k, coffeeshop au. a series of short sweet lovely fics where cas is a barista and dean is a smitten customer. literally the only coffeeshop au i respect

"Is that-"

"My number," says Dean, because he's a fucking champion, he's cool, he's collected, he's Captain Smooth of the USS Smoothtania, that's right. He is definitely not leaning against the counter for moral support. Cas doesn't looked seduced or impressed, though. He does not look like a dude who just met Captain Smooth and wants to ride the loveboat. He looks puzzled.

fata morgana. by orange_crushed, 6.6k, post-s9. dean is the king of hell. bela and cas team up to find him. bela pov. yeah you fucking heard that right BELA POV. BELA AND CAS!!!!!!!!!! makes me lose my mind i love everyone in this stupid desolate fucking hell wasteland.

The endless asphalt and broken road, the empty land and piles of human garbage, the unwanted ends of life, the cracked toys and broken screens and burning cars and gravel. Dean Winchester is the king of hell.

"Oh," says Bela.

That changes certain things.

💖 gran fury. by orange_crushed, 5k, pacific rim au. sam and cas pair up in a last ditch mission to save the world. permanently damaged me at age 15 and i've never recovered. major fucking angst warning.

They sit in silence and Castiel passes him the bottle. There’s not much left to say. Sam takes a gulp and it burns going down, like the cheap shit it is. He holds the bottle up against the light. He can see the Fury through it, distorted like a funhouse mirror. She’s a tomb but Sam loves her. Loves everything that’s left.

"To the end of the world," he says.

"To the end of the world," says Castiel.

💖 shut up (put your money where your mouth is) by kototyph, 24k, au. dean and cas get drunk married in vegas. dean renovates cas' house. this fic is SO MUCH BETTER than i remembered/expected and the entire series is fucking adorable go read it RIGHT now

Dean's done some pretty stupid things, but getting drunk-hitched in Vegas to a colleague he barely knows might just take the cake. His surprise husband, Castiel, is a little weird but likable despite that, and Dean figures they’ll go back to Boston, get a quiet annulment, and go their separate ways. Six weeks later, he’s still married to one of the strangest, most genuine and definitely most dangerously lov-- likable guys he's ever known. Dean doesn't know why or really even how it’s happening, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember that he has divorce papers to file.

not part of the plan by annie d (scaramouche), 338k, arranged marriage au. cas is slated to marry a noble from the winchester house. things spiral out of control. if you’re looking for an extensive well-developed political au, this is fucking it. i love reading about political machinations so this was FASCINATING to me.

Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations.

Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

💖 all things shining by askance and standbyme, 142k, au. sam and dean and cas go on a hunt that's not really a hunt, and against all odds good things happen. it's beautifully written and has scenes that literally make my heart leap out of my chest with joy and awe it's just WONDERFUL it's a wonderful fic. incredible mythology too omg i found that the authors actually created the myth the entire story is based on - like they don’t pull a random one from history, they made one up THEMSELVES. they even self-published it on amazon if ur curious

Something in the world is waking up.

It isn’t long before it’s brought to the attention of the Winchesters and Castiel: miracles are spreading across the country, the paranormal seems to be shrinking back on itself—and it all has something to do with the missing prayer book of a traveling preacher who died over a century ago.

Dean is convinced it’s all the lead-up to another Apocalypse; Sam and Castiel aren’t so sure. Regardless, it sends them out on a less-than-typical road-trip, following the Mississippi and remnants of a very old story that seems increasingly to call to them. And along the way the trio learn much more about themselves—and the consequences and origins of love—than they’d ever have anticipated.

💖 broadway musical by griftings, 12.4k, crack. romcom where cas is supposed to play matchmaker to dean and jo and well. you know. it actually made me cackle out loud when i read it again so you know it's still good. absolutely one of the funniest fics i’ve read

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.

The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.

Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

the five people you meet in heaven by chevrolangels, 22k, ambiguously canonverse. dean dies and goes to heaven and meets five people from his life. NOT a post-finale fic but still horrifically sad. i remember sobbing hysterically when i first read this so

Heaven is white.

Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.

Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.

There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.

They are the five people you meet in heaven.

any port in a storm by microcomets, 53k, post-s8. dean and cas go on a haunted cruise for a case. you know what happens next. also the art is by anobviousaside and it's gorgeous

The angels have fallen, leaving Castiel graceless and Dean with, well, more of other people’s problems. When a string of couples goes missing on the east coast, Dean and Cas decide to investigate—and find themselves trapped and hunted on a couples’ counseling cruise. Although battling monsters at sea is dangerous enough, sorting through emotional baggage proves to be far more deadly. (And, in which Cas embarks to find his missing grace and Dean is put out. Not necessarily in that order.)

a turn of the earth by microcomets, 95k, pre-canon au. cas is on the run from the empty and crash lands in dean's life. at one point he punches john in the face. a fucking beautifully written character study of pre-canon dean, honestly.

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

unfinished duet by microcomets, 5.8k, canonverse. sam observes dean and cas throughout the years. i remember this breaking my heart back in 2013!

Sam watches Dean and Cas over the years and notices a few things. (Or, Dean and Cas unscripted.)

💖 ergative/absolutive by glassedplanets, 8k, college au. dean and cas are best friends who meet in an astronomy class. i'm never not thinking about this fic it's so sweet and the friends to lovers is so soft and believable

He really shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this about his best friend who literally just broke up with his girlfriend, but he knows he’ll blame it on sleepiness in the morning. He always does.

a certain light by flightagain, 24k, au. cas works at the gas n sip. dean is a customer. this author’s writing style is so lonely and heavy but it’s very lovely

Castiel works at the Gas-n-Sip. There are half-price nachos and flickering lights, there are office-workers and werewolves stopping by for snacks. Dean is a frequent customer, and his office might be haunted.

the one thing you can’t lose by majorenglishesquire, 5k, ambiguously canonverse. dean can pull cas around and it’s adorable. character study-ish. very sweet.

You know what I like a lot? The thought that Dean can just tug Cas anywhere at any time and Cas, who can lift tons without effort, who can demolish things with the light of his grace, who has battled and gone to war, has defended and broken, will just let Dean do it.

brother lover by twentysomething, 4k, set during s4/s5. dean’s jealous of sam and cas’ budding relationship. this fic is so tropey but it does it well and it’s funny as fuck

However- and it doesn't happen a lot- they have to invoke 'I saw her first.’

his fucking kids by 8sword, 3k, canonverse au. dean and cas raise claire and emma together. yes, claire novak. yes, emma of 7x13 spice girls fame. this was the first kidfic i read for spn i think. obvs written before jack or claire actually came back into the picture but it was the TEMPLATE of kidfic for me for ages

Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.

💖 what has eight tentacles and isn’t allowed to eat pie? by annie d (scaramouche), 16k, post s8. dean gets turned into an octopus. another fic that was SO MUCH BETTER than i remembered i fucking love when that happens. it isn’t even about dean being an OCTOPUS like NO. NOT EVEN. it’s ACTUALLY about the bunker and building a home and a community and a family and about PHYSICAL COMFORT and you can actually feel the world expanding at the end of this fic like a gusty sigh of relief it’s SO WONDERFUL. kevin is in this fic. ellie is too and i had to look her up but THIS is her!!!! danay garcia u were too hot to stay on this show but i love you and miss u

Dean watched an anime porn about this once, but real life turns out to be way less interesting.

Or, the one where Dean gets turned into an octopus.

💖 a beginner’s guide to communing with the dead by suspiciousflashlight, 77k, canonverse au. dean is a cop who summons a powerful entity to help him solve a cold case. oh my god i can’t believe i didn’t put this on here i love this one so much. the writing bowls me over it’s so confident in its worldbuilding like you’re IMMEDIATELY plunged into dean’s pov (FLAWLESSLY executed throughout the fic btw) and you just learn about the world as you go!! and it’s such a fascinating world!!! i love the magic i love the typical bureaucratic red tape procedures i love normalizing the supernatural. i ESPECIALLY love monsters as normal people in a society. at one point there’s this exchange

“Monsters,” says Cas finally. “Beyond the Wall there are monsters.” “You mean, like, vampires and djinn and stuff?” Cas shakes his head. “Those aren’t monsters, those are just people.”

those lines have stayed with me for years. i think about them every time i rewatch an episode of spn.

Maybe it's the little girl whose disappearance turned into a murder, and whose murder turned into a cold case, and who has now apparently decided to move in with him. Maybe it's the unacceptable hole left in his life when his dumb best friend and partner in (the prevention of) crime decided to go and get himself killed. Maybe it's his brother, whose high-profile career and fantastic girlfriend and first-child-on-the-way are steadily leaving Dean in the dust. Pick one. Pick all of them. The why doesn't matter so much as the what, and the what is this: Dean is pretty sure he's going completely, certifiably insane. Sure, he hasn't started wearing all his clothes inside out, and he still showers on a regular basis (anyways, that's not crazy, just a little eccentric); but there's no getting around the fact that he just threw away his life, his career, and his reputation by dragging out his mom's old necromancy book and summoning a Class A Forbidden Entity to his attic. A cranky one, too. With horrendous bed-head.

dean’s list by almaasi, 3k, canonverse. dean makes a list. short and sweet. i read this so much in 2015 that it literally got engraved into my brain line by line and rereading it caused synapses to fire that havent felt anything in years

Dean writes out a list of men he would go gay for. Sam has a suggestion to make.

💖 the path of fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, post-s8. dean and cas open a charming bed and breakfast in vermont. no, literally. another CLASSIC. i think about the food in this fic all the time...........maple bacon baked french toast......the cinnamon rolls.....it literally sounds so good

After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.

long nights in cold months by pyrebi, 2.3k, au. dean’s an insomniac and cas works at walmart. i forgot i had this fic ALSO basically memorized. holy shit. pineapple in the fruit aisle.....................anyway it’s short and sweet and the “plot” resolves in such a satisfying way

When you're an insomniac, you get used to the "what the hell are you doing up, man?" look. Dean just hopes the guy who's stocking the shelves will stop giving it to him long enough to help him find some damn pineapple.

incredibly single & ready to mingle by imogenbynight, 3.6k, au. dean and cas meet on facebook. short cute au!!!!!!

Sam uses Facebook like the social media junkie he is. He's befriended literally every person he's ever had a conversation with since he got an account, which means that approximately—Dean checks—eight hours ago, he shared this horrible photo with something in the vicinity of nine hundred people. The caption below the picture reads “incredibly single & ready to mingle ;)” and roughly half of them have liked it.

Dean has never been so embarrassed in his life.

💖 unknown quantities by xylodemon, 8.5k, post-s8. after a post-case tryst, dean has to figure out his and cas’ relationship. human cas fics hold a special place in my heart. funny AND good dean pov AND a misunderstanding that i actually think works!!!!!

No one ever tells Dean anything.

(or: Dean Winchester and the not-relationship crisis of 2014)

#spn fic #spn #dean x cas #this is horrifically long actually.

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lgbtqstuff-va4 · 3 years

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Vu's HRT Journey (7 months, November 26 2020)

CW: Libido/sex drive mention, acne mention, blood, menstruation, slightly TMI near the end (I briefly mention sexual stuff in the "vaginal atrophy" section)

Hi... Sorry I haven't updated in like, three months. Life happened and I just.. Haven't had the energy to make these posts. But I decided that I should do an update while I'm feeling motivated.

One important thing I'm gonna note though, is that I recently changed my dosage. Between 4-21-2020 and 11-3-2020, I was doing 50 mg (.25mL) T (Cypionate) every two weeks (IM). As of 11-3-2020 I'm now doing that same dosage, except I'm doing it every week instead of every two weeks.

Anyways, let's get into my experiences

Body hair

My body hair has been doing the usual, I guess. Um... One thing I noticed recently, is that I now have like, one singular, long black strand of hair growing slightly under my chin. Which is weird-looking, but exciting! I'm at the very start of having.. A beard. Which is weird, but again, it's super exciting!! Um, I also noticed that like... Just above where my chin starts, like between my lower lip and my chin, there's some short, black hairs growing in. They're pretty hard to see right now, but yeah. I also shaved my face for the first time(!!) a couple weeks ago. I only shaved my upper lip since that was the only like, actually noticeable facial hair I had at the time, but it was a neat experience anyways... And then I immediately regretted the choice lmaO. I HATE HOW IT LOOKS AND FEELS TO NOT HAVE THAT BBY MOUSTACHE THERE... but it's actually growing back in at a nice pace.

Throat/voice

My voice has definitely been getting gradually lower. Emphasis on gradually. But yeah. I've noticed that there are like, certain songs I like, and there are certain parts that were too low-pitched for me to hit three, two, and sometimes even one month ago... But now I'm actually able to hit them? Or at least sort of hit them? Which is like... Really cool, tbh. My voice has obviously been cracking often, and I've had like three times of note where it happened at work when I was talking to a co-worker... Oofers.

Sex drive

It could just be due to stress (caused by things in my personal life), but for a good two to three weeks this month, my sex drive just... Took a nosedive. Idk why. It seems like it's getting back up there again, but yeah.

Acne/sweat

I've... Been breaking out so bad over the last month or two 😩 (weary emoji) I've obviously been having a lot of acne since I started T, but my god. My jawline specifically has been breaking out a lot, but also? My back... I can't do anything to get rid of it 😔 (pensive emoji)

Bottom growth/general feelings "down there"

I'm over half a year into T, and honestly? I don't think I've had like, any bottom growth. At all. It's pretty annoying tbh

Body fat redistribution

Also haven't noticed any changes with this yet :/ my mom's pointed out that my face apparently looks kinda different, and I think I see what she means? Or maybe I'm just imagining it, idk. I still have this stupid hourglass shape though, and I hate it.

Mood/emotions

Ehhhhh idk. I've had a really stressful month, and it's also been a very weird month for everyone, so it's hard to really pinpoint what's being caused by T, and what's being caused by other things. Idk... I'm sorry I can't describe how my emotions have been lately to y'all :/

The gross thing (i.e. menstrual bs)

Unfortunately, I've been having the gross thing... And generally speaking, it hasn't gotten any lighter/less frequent. I went from the beginning of August to late October without one, but since late October I've been having them happen about once a month. Which, honestly sucks :/

Vaginal atrophy

Haven't noticed too much here. I mean yeah, there's slight dryness, but it's not bone-dry in there, yknow? I also noticed recently that I drew bl**d while doing.. Sexual stuff?? It was only a little bit, but still. I was kind of being too rough that time though... Sjdjjdjcjjcjf (Also... Me? Feeling kind of flustered by talking about this? It's more likely than you think)

So... Yeah. I'm gonna try getting back to doing these updates, but I might do them every two months instead of every month now. Idk. I guess we'll see what happens. Thanks for reading!

#vus hrt experiences #vus personal stuff #ok to rb #hrt #hrt journey #testosterone #started t on april 21 2020 #tw blood #tw menstruation #not sfw #long post #mine

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targsdaenerys · 7 years

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let me tell you all a story. a story of my experience with ouat.

2012.

in fourth grade, i was watching american idol. during commercials, i viewed a promo consisting of a dragon and unicorns. now, at the time, unicorns were my ver y favorite, so of course, i was intrigued. i told my mom that i heard about a show with unicrons, but that i didnt know what it was called. she told me how she had heard of it and wanted to check it out. after watching the season one interviews between red and snow, she believed it was too old for me. i agreed. no unicorns. not what i was expecting.

2013.

a year passes. fifth grade was a blur, and all i know is that we went to disney. i had no idea what would change since then.

2014.

my friends are suddenly starting to talk about this kid’s eyebrows. how they are “so hot” and “sexy”. she showed me a picture off of robbie kay’s instagram and i laughed. ha, peter pan? whatever.

but then, it started to reoccur each monday, they would talk about it. i actually started to look forward to monday lunch periods. i begged them to discuss what they thought of the episode. once again, i was intrigued.

so of course, i wanted to see what the fuss was about. whats this big deal with peter pan? and who the hell’s rumple after only a few clips, i suddenly loved snow and charming. i needed more. i needed to watch.

so i tried. desperately. i only had an ipad, and was unaware it was on netlfix, so i tried to watch the first episode of the series by typing in “once upon a time season 1 episode one online free to any platform.i actually was able to find it and went in excitedly the next day to tell my friends. that was when i learned it was on netflix and thati could not wait to get home and watch it. so i did. but the thing is, i was only there for snow and charming scenes. i literally only skipped to their scenes. thats how i watched the show.

but then, as i was scrolling around youtube one day looking forsscenes for them, i came across “Emma and Hook Kiss scene” my frirst thought? it was between “ew”and “serioulsy?”

i watched it anyway.

and to behonest, it was kind of just a “okay, that happened” kind of thing. it wasnt until my friend told me after the season 3 finle that emma and hook kissed again before i got alitle excited. not much more, though.

then months pass, and suddenly, scrolling around netflix, i come across the hunger games. i held a grudge against the series since it became big with the popular group in my school that year. but i was thirsty for romance. and i heard it had some.

and thats how i fell in love with everlark. one night. the next morning i started following pages on instagram. i look up the ship on googlge. and tumblr posts pop up. i make a tumblr.

i start to follow pages on there with everlark, but then i start to see things on both platforms. emma and hook. and then, i slowly started to fall in love. not much. i just watch a couple of their scenes during season three, come across their second kiss. getting really, really excitated for the fourth season.

at the point, i had written about two everlark fanfictions. i wanted to write one about emma and hook, but i had no i dea how. or what .

but then tumblr inspired me. to the point where i started to freak out over every episode no matter how small the scenes were. in october of seventh grade, i wrote my first captain swan fanifction. i also drew my first drawing that i never thought i was able to do. sure, it was with a sketchbook my aunt got me in second grade and a #2 pecil, but i believe its still beautiful. it wasnt long after i actually found the name, captain swan, rather than using “kemma” or “killimma”.

2015.

and from there, my obsession sky rocketed. i stayed up until four every night after an episode, despite schol the next morning. i wrote little drabbles that arelong since gone ever since my laptop broke. i drew more drawings, i rewatched every scene until thats all that was in my head.the s4 finale was as hard on me as everyone else, and i tried to write a specualtion fic to the s5 premiere. i neverfinshed. although, looking back at the writing now, i can still feel the pain i was in by it.

and then season five started. again, i freaked out as much as everyone else. every episode. i still remeber the week after the first episode, we lost someone int he fandom. we miss you, love.

and then it was late october.saturday the 22nd, my mom came into my room to ask me if id seen my friend alyssa that day. she was a year older than me, afreshman in highschool. i didnt, so i told her. i didnt ever think what might have been.the following day, i was working at the food pantry when my mom caled me.they had found alyssa. but she wasnt okay.maybe in her mind she may have been the best shes ever been, but to us,she wasnt.

no one else knew, and i had to walk home in silence. i didnt cry because at the time we werent as close as the year before and it didnt hit me.but then my mother’s words repeated in my head. “Alyssa died, sweetie.” it was asentence i never forgot.

im not the best at keeping my emtions with myself. i always think people will judge me and call me selfish if i cry, and i didnt want it to be like that. so i kept it in.i kept the tears in for so, so long, even to the point here i didnt even cry at her wake where she looked like an angel although the scarf around her neck was something shed never wear. and what kept my sanity? once upon a time. it was then when i realized it was my anchor.

2016.

back in 2015 my mother made me audtion for a vocational school. earlier that year i had found its dance program and wanted to go, but along the way my intrest dwindled. she told me to give it a shot anyway because i had a very low chance of making it in due to my grades at the time.

i made it in.

the following months were the worst of my life. every day on the way home from dance wed fight about which high school was better, and although she was right about me going to the vocational one, i wanted to stay in my district. lets just say the only thing that kept me from following alyssa into the darkness was dance competitions. oh, and what else. the damn once upon a time episodes.

she forced me to go to that school, by the way. sure, i enjoy it now, but the people there suck and i still do not like how she went at it.

that fall, i take my friend to our first convention.since i started watching oneupon a time, i wanted others to watch it, and my one friend agreed to. until the end of the neverland arc. and peter pan died. no more ouat for her. but, since robbie was going to be there, lets go. she got a picture with him, i got a picture with bex. yayay.

2017.

last week, we experienced the best sunday of our life. a wedding we never really thought would happen. it was unbelievable. emma got her happy ending(or beginning) aand we got ours. it was so thrilling that even my friend who stopped watching in season three was excited. but as much as it was unbeliable the night, the following morning was too.

that was the most giddiest i had ever felt for school. every more we have a forty five minute bus ride and the but whole time i listened to the musical on repeat. but then, as i looked down to pause the music as we pulled into school, i saw my friends text. Jen’s facebook post.

i was in a daze all day.

it wasnt until lunch, the last period since it was a half day, where i just broke down. people asked me what was wrong and i explained as best i could, but shitty people have shitty outlooks on things and they didnt understand. it was the loneliest ive ever felt.

my mom kind of comforted me, telling me how she felt the same when parent hood ended and that ill find a new show ill like just the same, but one upon a time is special. no show can replace or even add onto what kind of mark it had left on me. it was what started my career in wririting and drawing. in someways it kept me alive. and what did people do when i told them this? they laughed.

it was tuesday night when i ran down stairs, telling my mom about convention tickets for colin and jen photo op i found on sale. we had them in mind for awhile, but never got them. she told me wed look into it. we missed the sale.

so here we were, here i was, aall i was able to think about was how id never meet the people who played the characters that shaped me and my future. until the next morning, my birthday, where i was given the tickets.

and today,to night, was pretty much the end of the storybook. im not going to go into it because i have it on a post from about an hour ago. but thank you everyone, for helping me be me. and thank you for this blessed oppurtuniy, in which i had never and will never take for granted, to be a part of such a magical communtiy. because of this platform i have aspired my career of writing, drawing, and fulfilling my dreams of being a princess by being able to contact disney about the program.if it wasnt for this damned, beautiful fucking shwow, i would probably bedrastically different. this story we created is timeless, a neverending fairytale in both real life and on screen. the story contiues for ever and ever in our hearts and writing and drawing and all of the incredible talents we all have.

#once upon a time #captain swan #cs family #captain swan fam #captain swan fandom #i love you all #ouat

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adhdvane · 3 years

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Anon back again, don't worry about delay in answer! I'm not expecting you to reply in a matter of seconds and I'm patient anyway! (●'◡'●) (and yeah, tumblr's notification system kinda suck so really, not your fault haha)

I understand your struggle with fics all too well lol I'm sure a time will come when it just clicks and you can write the good stuff ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ And no need to feel bad if you haven't posted a lot on ao3! You don't have to have 1000 fics or 200k word-long fics for your works to be enjoyable!! Even little ficlets and drabbles are good to have around ♥

It's good of you to have taken time for yourself if you needed it ♥ And yeah, completely understandable to hesitate and come back to fandom in general with the current state of things (a couple years ago I made an IE/Go sideblog and I'm still terrified that someone is going to come up and yell at me for shipping the characters lmao And that's without counting the Problematic™ fics I wrote when I was 16 lmao)

Regarding your tags, I'm just sitting there like starry-eyed because YES TenKyou. I'm DELIGHTED to know that's your preference because that's mine too for the ship asklhjkh

As for Todd and Prof Mirror, that's a tough and personal question, so good luck! (I'm thinking Todd topping's nice but does it make the prof kink better or not is the question!! ALSO in the french version, I know there's a line from Todd going like "Mirror was already being called Professor before he was a professor" so maybe he's not the only one with a prof kink, just from a different angle, hah)

(you say sorry for rambling, but joke's on you, I ramble too! Sorry for clustering your blog though woops Have a good day! (´･ω･`) )

rip, okay, once again i apologize about this one being even later, mostly bc i saw it early, but i haven't been able to sit down and respond to it. this week was the last week of the month so i actually had a lot to do at work and was able to go in every day (as opposed to 1 - 2 days bc business is still so slow). but at the end of the month i do invoicing for inventory charges for that month for each customer. though i was able to actually get a lot of it done sooner than usual (bc i actually started the process on tuesday instead of thursday), there were still three big ones i couldn't even do until thursday bc they had several orders in production that didn't get shipped until thursday. I was going to finally get to this ask on friday when i got home (we only work half days on friday and close at noon)… but the new gbf event had started… and uhg… a sho centric event. g od.

rest of the word vomit under the cut

before i just—IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ ABOUT THIS GBF RAMBLING FEEL FREE TO SKIP BELOW TO THE END THE GBF OF RAMBLE—this event askjdsjkdfslkdjsdjg talk about giving the antag his redemption art event. the emotional growth in sho. so many new assets to save… there are fricking 6 different versions of his character labeled _painful (_painful, _painful2, etc.), and like so many zoom in's that basically every one of his images has an _up version (the battle ones ((the ones of him on his gearcycle)) also have a bunch of _up2 versions that are zoomed in between the default and _up close up) anyways these in particular kill me.

sho "i'm-not-going-to-cry-or-show-expresions-of-gratitude" awkwardly smiling and crying in this event (while also repeatedly getting the shit kicked out of him/getting hurt. having a moment of breaking down from exhaustion and pain, in the rain, before deciding he has to swallow his pride. every single english word that comes out of his mouth, cv: taniyama kishou is a gift (on a side note i can't believe he fucking played alpha in chronostone. like thats fucking hilarious a va and voicalist capable of such range and drama voicing alpha and his serious monotone ass). Sho (@tsubasa): You showed me the light before—[…] Tsubasa: Wait, what? Whaddya mean I showed you the light? ((you mean when he punched you in the fucking face at the end of the previous event of this series?))). I mean I already shipped bc of the their last event, how can you not ship the guy screaming he's going to kill the protag w/the protag esp after getting punched in the face by the protag at the end makes him calm down and be like fine i guess you win i'm not going to try to kill you know and our gangs don't have to fight. also they're both like 16 (or at least tsubasa is canon 16 (a yeas totally looks like a 16 year old) and sho is at least still in school and at least confirmed to be a minor (not age of majority, which idk what that is exactly in universe, could be 18, could be 20, bc it is fantasy, but it's also japanese, thoguh japan's age of majority is actually lowering from 20 to 18 next april (2022), drinking/smoking/gambling age will still be 20, and the comment in this event was about we're still minors save the smoking for when you're an adult). sho could arguably be 18 or 19 and still believably in school and be considered a minor legally (if in universe gbf follows japanese laws) considering the time he spent in juvie he could easily have been held back. gbf will probably just make him tsubasa's age if a canon age is release. but thinking about sho being 19 and tsubasa being 16 would make some ppl upset and that brings me joy. (also just how funny it could be thinking about (bc everyone is perpetually the same age) how later when sho a year older and legally being able to drink, and tsubasa not, and despite the fact sho being like i will break the laws about physically assaulting a guy but underage drinking, smoking, and drugs is a no-no is fucking hilarious. (the app is rated t so i guess there's only so much you can do…) (oh and one last note, a character in the event asking if sho enjoys the pain and is a masochist, to have other character be like dude you can't just ask someone that. sho saying no he doesn't enjoy the pain. only for later when they are escaping, a character noting "You look rather happy about all this. Now I'm sure youre a masochist." gbf first crushing my sho masochist headcanon and then building it back up in this event, thank u gbf). anways, rip that was a lot and not even everything, as you can see i have been… distracted by this event. apologies

—END OF GBF RAMBLE—

oh god worry about ppl like that in ina like, there really people out there who don't want you shipping ficitional children?????? and the main ina cast is roughly between 12-15. and got i started watching ina in 2013 when i was 19. which apparently for some people is like bad uwu because it's a show for young teenagers (like lol too bad i'm 27 and even though i haven't kept up with aries i still love ina and all the little babies and wont stop shipping). i didn't even know there was people out there who get UPSET AT AGING UP??? like wtf???? sorry i want them to be old enough to marry, adopt children, have a job, and also f.uck. the dpk au is my lifeblood (and has a lot of Problematic™ content that's never even been posted online anywhere bc it used to be an rp. my favorite is that out of all the relationships in the au, tenma and kyousuke's is probably the most unhealthy bc of kyousuke's mental health. some very bad things happened to fei (per request of my rp partner) (part of vanfeny and garsha's revenge on saru as they were sent to megun while saru walks around ''free'' (what exactly is free is a whole other lore mess in itself that i wrote up about post chrono stone future). and that just lead to more bad things fei then did to himself. problematic™ content 9492347 in the dpk au, shipping ozrock and lalaya. (even worse, bc of lore planning i did for the au and decided how their species worked, lalaya is about 6.5 cycles (faram obius years) or roughly 130 earth years and biologically similar to 13 year earth years, and ozrock is about 48 Ixal years roughly 48 earth years and biologically similar to 24 earth years. so like even a worse ship. i mean just ignore cultural norms would be different on an alien planet and also she's royalty and has an obligation to be wed even younger and is probably socially more mature than a human 13 year old. rip sorry i just like alien stuff. a lot of this was also because wouldn't it be great for lalaya to have a really long lifespan so the human friends she makes get older faster and also die way before her :) ina's gunna hurt me with the bug aliens then i'm going to… continue to hurt myself with more alien life span stuff.)

Anyways, With TenKyou, idk I think it's easy to paint tenma as the innocent ~pure baby~ and kyousuke as ~bad boy~ bc of the first inago… and seed kyousuke was a little bastard man (affectionate). which would idk explain the default to kyouten. but like kyousuke chills the hell out in chrono stone and galaxy. and just bc tenma is a dumbass with a heart of gold obsessed with soccer doesn't necessarily mean he's has to be ~innocent baby 受け~ trope. (not that these are the only tropes that decide) (maybe it's bc i sort of like messing with what it must be like to be the main protagonists best friend and watch him continue to overcome everything and be in the spot light and how everyone praises him. kyousuke with self-esteem issues, looking back at all the problems he's caused, tenma has flaws but they're either negligible or something to love about him and mine have only hurt others. disregarding his own goddamn plot armor in the past. complex, emotional, suffering kyousuke is how i like my kyousuke. need we even get into how god eden was canonically revealed to be physically/mentally abusing seeds and that whole can of worms) (also just "nervous baby i don't know how to approach tenma" kyousuke, "cheeky little shit doesn't have any regards to personal space and boundries" tenma) at least if anyone starts giving me shit about an ina ship or problematic fictional ina content, i can always respond with something i drew back in 2015.

back to the matter of new snap though… that line is so familiar (im pretty sure it's in the eng txt, i have it set to jpn audio tho). i recently started keeping a log of the messages that pop up on the camp, lab, and map screens (but haven't saved too many bc i get distracted or at least i know i'm missing quite a few i have vague memories of). (also idk why my first thought to that line was mirror responding with "That was because you were the one calling me that.") there actually were a couple messages i saved initially that would be useful for fic writing:

Todd: "The professor used to be kinda reckless back in the day. I suppose after 10 year he must've calmed down a bit."

and

Mirror: "Todd's calmed down since I last saw him. Or maybe he's just acting mature because you kids are around…"

possible implications from these that I'm deciding to consider for headcanons:

both reckless and wild in their early 20's but that's not unusual, so they were acting like reckless young adults when they were 20. makes sense.

because mirror mentions the last time i saw him (which is definitely implied not 10 years ago since todd had a research team pin so obviously he's been around a bit since the lab was established) meaning todd is potentially still a chaotic bastard but is just trying to act like an adult in front of the kids. beautiful.

and on that note another wonderful Tood message:

Todd: "I never invited Phil to be my pupil—he just declared himself my "number one student" and started tagging along! But honestly…I was kind of flattered."

the possibility that when todd showed up in game, after that cutscene he went to talk to mirror like "this 10 year old just started following me and wont go away, pls help. what do i do?????"

this unsupervised 10 year old just followed a ~30 year old man into the wilderness and somehow just declares todd is mentor (and took the research team pin from todd to ''borrow''). this is a hostage situation. todd is the hostage.

the idea that perhaps todd just got back from a long expedition and was glad to be back and spend time with mirror, except this kid started following him around and wont leave him alone or go away, and then when he got to the lab there were two more kids there. how the fuck am i supposed to get it on with mirror when we have little alone time and when we finally do we're constantly at risk of being interrupted and/or walked-in on. (that last part was mainly the premise of the fic i wanted to write. "these kids are a handful how are we supposed to have intimate time. especially bc they're all so young and have child energy levels and when they go to bed i am already fucking exhausted." i'm thinking it might work better as like a drabble collection, that way i don't have to adhere to a plot line and can pick and choose scenarios to write because i keep winding up with more scenario ideas that i can nearly piece together into a coherent timeline anymore.)

(also a bit that rita becomes suspicious that they are 100% fu.cking even though all that happened was mirror wasn't asleep up in his bed above the lab and fell asleep in one of the bungalows w/todd and then tried to cover it up like haha what no, i was checking on todd he's not feeling well uh… what? where are my pants? oh. oh i can't believe i just totally got out of bed and left the lab without my pants haha.) (todd and mirror just trying to keep their relationship a secrete out of fear of rumors spreading and it affecting the lab's funding, even though rumors definitely started ages ago but neither of them realize). (also todd doesn't trust phil to keep his mouth shut and doesn't like the optics of the random 10 year old who started following him (UNSUPERVISED) just blabbing to his parents about how his cool mentor is dating the professor at the lab like yikes that could end badly worst case scenario.)

(i like the idea of mirror playing along with todd's ki.nk, albeit a little awkward sometimes (not very good at being intentionally 'sexy' about it, but that's not what todd wants anyways bc it's already inherenty sexy for him). Phill has a message "I barely get half the stuff the professor talks about. Do you?" and i can only image if he said that to todd

todd: （人*´∀｀）i know it's hot

phil: what)

anyways i hope you don't mind me rambling even more on your asks like this. last time i totally just cut chunks out to be smaller but this time… i'm going to leave things in rip.

#ask #anon #thank you or bearing with me #i haven't been on tumblr the whole week oops #sammy be quiet #i have been thinking about them a lot though #alSO RIP I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT TENKYOU A LOTT TO BECAUSE OF YOU #listening to ina music on the way to work every day this week #but also now i've just entered tsubasa/sho hell because of the new gbf event #their previous event was in 2018 so it's been some time #i didn't except sho to ever get content again #and now i know he's gunna get a gacha release when the banner changes to gala #and i want him so bad #if i don't get him.......... i would be willing to later sup ticket his ass though it'll be a while til he'd be ticketable rip #cw kink mention ///////#the dpk au means a lot to me even now #also speaking of ina shipping my first ina ship tsunatachi and god there was a really good doujin artist on pixiv oh boy #some people on here would lose their shit over like so much of pixiv's content #idk man #i apologize if some stuff doesn't make sense bc brain just vomits out words and thinks everything is in the correct order

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themoneybuff-blog · 5 years

Text

Questions About Tax Brackets, Compound Interest, Warehouse Clubs, Stamps, and More!

Whats inside? Here are the questions answered in todays reader mailbag, boiled down to summaries of five or fewer words. Click on the number to jump straight down to the question. 1. Losing faith 2. Thoughts on simple investment strategy 3. Tax bracket question 4. Compound interest question 5. Costco versus Sams Club 6. Question about forever stamps 7. Investing for near term 8. VA disability and property taxes 9. KitchenAid 10. Where should I retire? 11. Credit cards for specific purposes 12. Saving old journals On the wall in my office are three framed pictures that my children drew for me when they were younger using finger paints. In the corner of each, my wife typed out a brief description of what the painting was supposed to be, transcribing what the children told her about them. They are among my favorite possessions. I look at them at least a few times a day and they provide a constant reminder to me about what Im doing, what Ive done right, and what I might do better. Theyre older now. My daughter is a fantastic artist at this point, drawing still life far better than I ever dreamed of being able to do. My oldest son is developing into a skilled problem solver and is likely headed for some sort of engineering career. My youngest has a superb wit and the most insatiably curious mind Ive ever come across. Those pictures captured them at a moment in their lives thats already past, yet when I look at the pictures, I dont think of my children as they were, but as they are. Its pretty impressive what three pieces of paper and a few cents worth of finger paint can do. Q1: Losing faith I have worked for the DoE for 18 years and been through a few shutdowns, but this is the first time Ive simply not received my paycheck. Part of the reason I have chosen to work for the government rather than an energy company is due to the stability of the job and now that feels like it is eroding. I dont know when Im getting paid next which is the very type of thing I wanted to avoid in private industry and took a somewhat lower paying job. I am losing faith in the government as reliable. Not sure what to do. Dan After last weeks mailbag focused so heavily on the shutdown, I wanted to dial it back a little this week, so this is the only shutdown-related question. Again, Im not interested in the politics of the situation, just how it affects the daily life of those affected by it. In your shoes, Dan, I would probably start polishing up the resume. I get the impression that your finances are generally pretty stable and you can handle a short period without pay. I would also use this as inspiration to remind yourself that the best kind of financial reliability is when youre relying solely on your own savings, not the reliability of an employer. When things do return to normal, kick up your retirement savings a bit and get yourself into a place of financial independence just a little faster. Q2: Thoughts on simple investment strategy I wanted to get your thoughts on the investment strategy my great uncle told me about. Hes in his mid 60s and has been basically retired for about a decade. He ran a bakery but sold it to the manager about a decade ago and sometimes consults with them but thats about it. He said that what he did was starting in the early 1980s when he was just starting out, he put a minimum of $100 a month into a savings account and then put in any windfalls he got. The minimum grew as his income did. Whenever the stock market dropped 10% from its peak, he would take half of his savings and put it in the stock market and then not watch again for another six months. He said he blew away the market doing this and its why he retired so early. I am skeptical because he sometimes tells tall tales and I think he is mostly retired on bakery money. Your thoughts? Alex So, lets break this down. He puts $100 a month into savings and then puts half of his savings into stocks every time the stock market is 10% or more lower than its peak, but he only does this every six months at most. I tried my best to match this strategy in a spreadsheet to figure out whether this would actually beat the market. As best as I can figure, over the period of January 1, 1982 to January 1, 2019, this strategy would beat the market but not overwhelmingly, and it didnt beat the market for long stretches in there. I assumed a 3% return over that entire period on money in the savings account, and I only checked the stock market on the 1st of every month. I used the S&P 500 as the number for the stock market and assumed he was investing in the Vanguard 500, which basically matches the S&P 500. Now, having said that, its worth noting that sitting on stocks over that period is simply a great investment. On January 1, 1982, the S&P 500 was at 117.30. On January 1, 2019, its at 2,584.62. That money he invested back in the early eighties utterly exploded in value. Heck, even as late as January 1, 2009, it was at 865.58 it has basically tripled since then. If your great uncle sold his bakery ten years ago and put a lot of that money into stocks, and hed been doing this investment strategy as you described all along, he probably is sitting on a pretty penny right now. As for whether you should do it, I dont think its strictly better or worse than just investing that $100 directly every month. It really depends on how the market fluctuates, as all of these strategies do. Your great uncle got rich because he made a 40 year investment in stocks, not because he had a great timing strategy. Anyone with just about any strategy starting in the early 1980s would be doing very good today if they just left the money in the market. In other words, I think youd be in great shape if you used your uncles strategy. I also think youd be in great shape if you just put $100 or $200 a month into a broad based index fund and sat on it for the next 40 years. The thing those two strategies have in common is that theyre both riding the long term stock market growth, and thats where the real money is over the long term. Q3: Tax bracket question You wrote: Lets say youre a single taxpayer who earns $35,000 per year. The first $9,275 of your income is taxed at 10%, and the remaining $25,725 is taxed at 15%. What? While $35,000 falls into the 15% tax bracket, your effective tax rate is actually 13.7%. The higher your income, the more tax brackets you pass through to arrive at your effective tax rate. There is no listed 15% tax bracket for single taxpayers.. That sentence is thoroughly confusing! Please explain where you came up with that! Tammy The article in question was written by Simple Dollar contributor Frank Addessi, not by me. Ill do my best to explain this specific point more clearly. First of all, Frank seems to have been using the 2017 tax brackets rather than the 2018 ones to explain the principle. His numbers perfectly line up with the 2017 tax brackets, which did include a 15% rate. The current 2018 tax brackets for single filers look like this: 10% Up to $9,525 12% $9,526 to $38,700 22% $38,701 to $82,500 24% $82,501 to $157,500 32% $157,501 to $200,000 35% $200,001 to $500,000 37% over $500,000 The easiest way to think of tax brackets is to imagine a big water fountain, one that has a bunch of progressively larger pools. When the little pool at the top overflows, the overflow runs down into the next pool which is a little bigger, and when that one overflows, that overflow runs down into the next pool, and so on. Heres a picture if you want a visual aid. So, in Franks example, hes looking at someone who made $35,000 in taxable income this year. You start dumping that income into the 10% bracket until it fills up at $9,525. At that point, you still have $25,475 to put into the fountain, so we move down to the next bracket. It can hold all remaining income up to $38,700, and so it holds the remainder. So, that first $9,525 is taxed at 10%, which means $952.50 in taxes, and the remaining $25,475 is taxed at 12%, which means $3,057 in taxes. Your total tax bill is $4,009.50, which is 11.5% of your income. This person is in the 12% tax bracket and their effective tax rate is 11.5%. Remember, because some of your income always ends up in those smaller bowls with a lower rate, your overall effective tax rate is always lower than your tax bracket. Hopefully this clears things up! Q4: Compound interest question I recently read a blog post about compound interest, which Ive primarily associated with bank accounts. But the article also seems to associate compound interest with retirement accounts and I was wondering if you could provide some clarity. One example early on says Lets say you have $5,000 in a retirement account, earning 7% interest each year. The first year you earn $350 in interest, which brings your total to $5,350. The following year, interest is calculated based on that $5,350 total Even if you never deposit anything but the original $5,000, youll have $38,061.28 in 30 years. I know the average stock market return is 7%, but is it accurate to call that interest? If not, is there some other type of retirement account that genuinely offers 7% interest on your principle every year (as this article seems to suggest)? Another example: toward the end it says If youre saving for retirement, invest in low-fee index funds. Fees of 1% or more will drag down your profit and cut into your compound interest. Index funds will follow the markets course and provide a solid rate of return. Avoid picking individual stocks, as their volatility can be problematic. Im on board with the ideas of low-fee index funds, but not for fear of high fees cut[ting] into your compound interest. Index funds are liable to lose value some years too, arent they? I wouldnt be giving this as much thought if it came from a smaller blog but this is Mint. It makes me wonder if I fully understand how my retirement accounts are working, or if Im missing an opportunity elsewhere. Is the article conflating two topics that dont really connect to one another? Or is there a way to leverage compound interest to this big of a degree for retirement? Max Mint is using the terms investment returns and interest interchangeably here in order to reduce the number of different terms being thrown at the reader. I do this myself its a way of making similar concepts seem familiar and not overwhelm people with new terms, especially when theyre asking an introductory question. They are distinct ideas, but they both have the same effect if you let them sit for a long time, the growth they provide is powerful. Your retirement account, assuming its invested mostly in stocks, doesnt return interest. Rather, what happens is that you usually own shares in a mutual fund. Each time you put money into your retirement account, its used to buy more shares. Over time, those shares grow in value maybe not each and every year, but most years. They also regularly produce dividends, which are small cash payments for each of those shares, issued to you. Almost always, dividends are just used to buy more shares of that same investment. So, shares grow in value over time and youre also rolling dividends in to buy even more shares. The end effect of that is much like compound interest in a savings account it builds and builds. Although theyre not the same thing, the exponential growth curve of interest in a savings account and investments in a retirement account are similar. The growth curve of the savings account isnt as steep, but its very steady and always upwards. The growth curve of the stock market investment is really bumpy, but overall trends upward much more strongly than the growth curve of the savings account. Q5: Costco versus Sams Club I dont know anything about sams club because we joined it when it first came to town years ago and hated it. When Costco came to town, we heard such positive things we decided to give it a chance and have liked it much better. Reasons are several, including those you wrote about esp. the gas prices as we pass the store every day. Further, they treat their employees really well. most importantly, they guarantee that if the credit card rewards (on their visa card) do not equal the membership fee, they will refund the membership fee. We have only one visa card and its theirs as we get a great deal of rewards based on gas alone. Jaden My experience has been that different chain stores have different degrees of quality in different areas of the country. Where I live, the two closest warehouse clubs to my door are both Sams Club and theyre both clean and well stocked and well staffed, and both feature gas prices that are consistently about $0.07 per gallon cheaper than any of the stations near them. There is a Costco in Des Moines (the closest Costco to me) and I found the experience there to be very similar when Ive visited with friends with Costco memberships. However, having said that, I didnt see anything that made it worth the substantial additional drive for me. My experience is that theyre both fine, at least at the locations Ive visited, and you should check out both in your area if theyre both available (along with BJs, another warehouse club chain popular in some regions of the United States). Q6: Question about forever stamps As you likely know, the largest increase in the cost of a stamp will occur on Sunday, January 27, 2019, as the price of a first class Forever Stamp goes from $0.50 to $0.55 (a 10% increase). While the best way to save money on stamps is to call/TXT/email rather than mail a letter, sometimes mailing a letter presents a very good value (sending someone a note of appreciation, etc.). Due to how significant this increase is, I would recommended that anyone with no high interest debt who already has an emergency fund try to purchase 2-4 years worth of stamps, while anyone else try to acquire at least a 1-year supply of stamps (as long as they can do so without paying interest on the purchase). Im curious how much of a supply of stamps you would recommend people acquire prior to this price increase? Stephen Personally, we estimated how many stamps well likely use over the course of 2019 (mostly personal letters and holiday cards) and bought them all already. This added up to 200 stamps, so the cost was $100, as compared to the $110 we would have spent had we bought those stamps at the end of January or later. With a longer timeframe than that, the cost benefit of buying those stamps really starts to shrink. Your annual return starts to sag and you have the stamps for longer, which means theres a greater risk of some sort of damage to the stamps (the longer you have them, the more likely they are to be lost, burnt, misused, and so on). This is basically what weve done each time theres been a bump in the cost of forever stamps. Weve bought an entire years worth just before the bump in price. Its not a big savings, but it saves us $5-$10 over the course of a year. Q7: Investing for near term You recommend fully investing in the Roth/529 even though they are less than 10 years out from likely needing the capital? I was thinking of them putting 10 or 20% aside for long term, although they are a bit depressed by the .1% interest our local bank returns to them. Any back of the envelope math as to what $2,000, invested at age 16, is worth at age 70? Annie Yes, I recommend putting money into tax-advantaged education and retirement accounts, even if youre less than ten years from your expected use. The difference is that when youre looking at that short of a timeframe, you choose investments that are intended for short and medium term investments, like safe bonds or money markets. They have a smaller average annual return than stocks, but they certainly beat savings accounts and have very little risk of losing money and youre still able to pull out the gains tax free. As for your other question, if you put in $2,000 into, say, a Roth IRA at age 16, put it aggressively into stocks, and let it ride until age 70, you should see an average annual return of 7% on that money. So, 54 years of a 7% average annual return on $2,000 gives you are you ready for this $77,224.30. Now, its worth noting that $77K wont go as far in 54 years as it goes now, but itll still be a very healthy chunk of money. If you withdraw 3% of it annually (which is a safe bet), thats $2,317 a year. Yep, if he puts that $2,000 away now and starts withdrawing it every year at age 70, hell be able to pull out more than $2,000 a year basically forever and still hand down a big chunk of it to his kids/grandkids. Q8: VA disability and property taxes Can a veteran who is on total VA disability with no other income receive a tax refund on his home owners taxes? Jim Property taxes are a deduction from ones income tax bill. Since, as a person on total disability from the VA, youre already paying no income taxes, you have nothing from which to deduct. I dont know the specifics of your financial state, but if you were to earn a small income, its likely that the deduction from the property taxes would take care of the income taxes on that small income. However, if your income is solely from the VA due to total disability, property tax payments wont help your income tax bill since you dont have an income tax bill. Q9: KitchenAid it is my understanding that [KitchenAid] was bought out by a foreign company some time ago surely since 50 years ago and that the new company has been making them with some parts being plastic that were metal originally. I have seen reviewers saying that the old ones really do last forever if one takes good care of them, whereas some of the newer models plastic parts tend to wear out. I dont remember seeing any mention of whether those plastic parts can be replaced. I think I found this information on consumer information web sites. Annie Whirlpool purchased KitchenAid in 1986. At some point in the late 1990s, it seems that KitchenAid replaced the gearbox in some of their stand mixers with one made of nylon rather than the original one made of metal. The issue isnt that the nylon ones wear out under normal use, but that people tend to stress them. For example, the instructions for the manual state to only use the dough hook attachment on speed setting 1 or 2, but people often turn it to 3 or higher. This causes the gearbox to get overworked and cause breakdown issues. Today, KitchenAid makes two lines of stand mixers the Artisan and the Pro line. The Artisan has a nylon gear box where the Pro line seems to have the old-style metal gear box but the Pro line is substantially more expensive. One note: the reason many people believe that old things are more reliable is due to selective bias. People remember the things that worked well in the past and forget the things that do not, and then they compare those things that worked well to everything now, where some things work well and some things do not. Thats always been true. Q10: Where should I retire? My husband I are targeting early retirement within 10 years but well be figuring out a location in 3-5 years. We want to spend the next few years visiting a variety of possible locations, narrow it down to a shorter list and then try out a few, staying 6 months to a year. Where would you start? What criteria would you consider? What resources are available, particularly those geared towards retirees (we dont really care about the quality of local schools these days). Thanks for any suggestions. Margaret If I were you, Id start by figuring out what you want to do in retirement. What do you want your typical day to look like? Does it involve regular time with family? With friends? Does it involve a lot of time outside in warm weather? Do you guys like cold weather? How do you want to spend your time? Questions like that should narrow down your target locations pretty quickly. Once youve addressed those kinds of quality of life issues, I would focus on cost of living and aim for areas that have a low cost of living while still meeting your other quality of life goals. I like using this cost of living calculator. Since youre retiring early, I wouldnt prioritize access to services too much at this point. Instead, focus on what will give you the aspects of life you want with a low cost of living. Q11: Credit cards for specific purposes I have not used credit cards until a few years ago and wondering if the following expenses qualify as recurring payment for which the card gives a cash-back: 1. Monthly rent paid to the apartment landlord (not sure if the landlord would accept credit card though but rent is the single largest toll on my modest purse); 2. Life insurance premiums. These do accept credit card payments and I am about to apply for two. Sasha I think that using credit cards for very tight specific purposes like this is a good choice, as it raises your credit score and likely provides some sort of reward bonus or cash back bonus for the card. The key, of course, is paying off the balance in full each month. Youll have to check with the credit card in terms of whether or not such payments qualify for the cash back reward. It depends on the specific offer and probably on how you go about the payment. If I were you, the next step Id take is talking to my landlord about credit card payments. My guess is that a small business might not accept credit cards, but a large one will. You may want to consider other strict uses for it as well, such as gas purchases or other regular bills. Q12: Saving old journals I loved to learn that you also use the three morning pages idea! I have been doing this for years and years, since 2000 at least. Question: what do you do with the old journals? I have a box of them in the garage. I realize I dont really look at them but it feels wrong to just burn them or throw them away but I also dont really want my kids to read them because theyre really personal and I sometimes work through hard feelings about motherhood. Jenny Personally, I digitize all of my old journal entries and then destroy the originals. (The exception is journals that Im hand-writing for each of my kids to give to them when theyre adults that contains a summary of the life advice I have for them along with things like family histories and recollections.) My process is that when I finish a journal, I put it aside for a while until I realize Im no longer looking back on it (usually six months or so), then I cut all of the pages out of the binding and scan them all (I use Scanner Pro). Then, I burn the original pages. That way, I can easily browse through them when I want, search through them using text searching, and theyll basically go away when I die (I suppose one of my kids might find them if they trawl through lots of my digital detritus, but most likely theyll just toss out old computer equipment without a second thought). Most of the stuff Ive written is simply me working through personal problems, and I really have no interest in rereading that stuff. The valuable stuff, for me, is when Im working through an intellectual idea, because I often want to revisit the earlier thoughts. Got any questions? The best way to ask is to follow me on Facebook and ask questions directly there. Ill attempt to answer them in a future mailbag (which, by way of full disclosure, may also get re-posted on other websites that pick up my blog). However, I do receive many, many questions per week, so I may not necessarily be able to answer yours. https://www.thesimpledollar.com/questions-about-tax-brackets-compound-interest-warehouse-clubs-stamps-and-more/

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coralstarfishtrash-blog · 6 years

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Lolita

Restricted guides are guides or additional published functions for example documents or has which are forbidden by-law or even to which other means not admittance which. With an increase of than thirty-three trillion publications Jan Brett's award-winning, inprint Newyork Times best-selling books are acknowledged regarding colorful representations of the wide selection of wildlife. All-the Trunchbottoms look out their following pupil might just be like Matilda or up the ante possibly the girl Drew Barrymore enjoyed in The Firestarter edition of Stephen Kings novel. I came up regarding morning which were specially rough with the sit and built everyone experience as large as a feed of mud, until I could after while in the evening were my protect can be composed by me and place my everythingis ok disguise again on. We've to hear her narrative and all study Milliseconds Winter's textbooks... Our pleasure could n't be contained by us. 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At his residence, Ellison knowledgeable a major residence fire in 1967 in Boston, by which he believed 300 pages of his next story manuscript were lost. Okay.” He said and I stepped to the bathroom, I did sonot must request where in actuality the towels are since a holder suitable is once I stroll in. I began the water although it heated up I acquired naked. The engineering BookLamp alows you to discover books that are composed with a comparable sculpt, anxious, viewpoint, motion level, information level and dialogue level. Publications - tips and and the stories grabbed inside them - are section of our societal fabric. Than he needs to he's taking far more risks. And the book additionally demonstrates them coping with his reputation/infamy in a helpful, playful means, as an example articulating the issues of the world wide web/social media using wit and eloquence but then positioning it while in the brain of the figure that is profoundly deranged. 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Sloanis novel about a mystical shop that contains a lot more than matches the attention may be worth discovering if your favored spot inside the world is Alley. By 2015's end, Lyft expects to complete almost 13 mil tours. Jess Walter have not observed eyes to vision but after studying Wonderful Ruins, we have certainly kissed and composed. Basically, we may effectively be 'besties'. Mr. Canfieldis additional bestselling books - The Energy of Concentrate, The Aladdin Aspect, and Challenge to Acquire, - have created millions of bookstore and Net sales, and have presented secondary goods including audio programs, movie programs, company education programs and syndicated columns to enthusiastic Company purchasers. Be willing to take suggestions and constructive critique, as this can simply create your medieval-fantasy story that much better. Do your study The amount of study you should do is determined by the fresh you produce. It's splendidly amusing and positively lovely, but Vapor people is likely to be stuck using the lower of the inferior director. I am not likely to propose anyone read this because you will judge me for this long before you fatigue of the tics that are written as well as the recurring use of characters' names that are entire. Stegner was not irresponsible for a boomlet by training her reports at Stanford School in his novels courses and including these in two anthologies of American writers before they inserted her semi-fantastic identity in his prizewinning new. If you're a mug for relationship and puzzle books like us, checkout these bestsellers by Liliana. These books both have a look at file how governmental pros and cons affect people powerless to control their condition, and ordinary household life in a repressive Communist society. it can be deterred, although the cause of Kindle syncing to past page read is so that you could see the same guide on distinct equipment. 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Team Penguin - Club Penguin is among the hottest video game realms for kids, having identical emphasis added to protection and exciting. Finally, in regards to score, I will present a 4.5 as it would-be far better if it had been written from Tyleris POV to this book. I examine this as an elitist university beginner and realized it-all being an allegory. Marketing scholarly publications displays than on promoting and more often than not focuses more heavily to the invisible” resources of direct mail. But, summer is not empty of magical, getaway paradise that is thus shut it can be touched by you. If you've slipped a bit lacking your target to see hundred books this year, todayis a good time to reactivate. It had been the primary book revealed by a dark Caribbean writer in England; Wayne was also the primary Trinidadian author to publish a story that is quick in England, virtually 10 years before Alley arrived. Even though your book takes place in a totally dreamed fantasy world, study in to the real world may be required to make sure that your guide has the level of reality essential to let viewers to postpone notion and truly determine together with figures and your account. Her clear tries so that you can conserve them to curb her romance with Tyler, annoyed myself. We detest that stress variety style in textbooks. Mindset research implies that your capability to sympathize with other-peopleis factors of watch is improved by studying fictional hype, since there is a story psychological simulator of another individual's lifestyle. And same moves on her partner (who is made about the include aswell) but I'd absolutely advise this book because it manufactured the experience reasonable to individuals who don't know the girl on the address. Also, it might be difficult as you would have to take all of the books available to consider the guide covering at the bottom, in case you have plenty of textbooks. http://superfit-blog.com ask-me to advise decreases or even to advise suitable books.

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anything-advice-blog · 6 years

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[TIME SENSITIVE / URGENT] toxic friend

i kno u guys must get like thousands of messages and im so sorry for cluttering ur inbox and pushing this to the front of the line but im just. desperate and really scared and i need to know what 2 do abt this as soon as possible!!! also as a preface i apologize in advance if some of the way i word things in this come off as offensive or incorrect, etc - i truly, genuinely do not mean any harm so please feel free to correct me if i say something that isnt okay!!! also this is REALLY scattered and mega long so bear with me im really sorry! (also im so. so scared the person in question is gonna see this o H MY GOD so i may need to message this blog again asking for this post to be taken down maybe bc im really paranoid im so sorry!! i hope thats ok but i just dont want to risk her seeing this if this all blows up in my face ohrkjdghkjghfdgj!!!) (TW: SUICIDE MENTION, SELF HARM MENTION)

ok so. almost 2 years ago in early 2016 this girl i’d never met before drew me this incredible gift art for my birthday. we started talking and we found out we have a lot of things in common - we both draw and write, we’re just a few months apart from each other in age, we have similar interests and fandoms, n we live less than an hour away from each other and are one state away from one another - so we immediately hit it off n became super close friends. she was amazingly talented n super friendly and nice n stuff so i wanted 2 be friends w her anyways!!!!! @ the time she was in an online relationship with someone several years older than her who lived across the country, and she mentioned a few times she was feeling unhappy and insecure in that relationship and that long distance was really difficult but she was too devoted to her partner to break it off. the most important thing 2 note is that my friend has several severe untreated mental illnesses (depression, anxiety, ocd among others), regularly self harms, and is suicidal. im pretty sure im neurotypical (or at least i definitely am not suicidal / depressed, etc), so while i couldnt relate to a lot of the things she was going through, i always tried to be a listening ear to her and give her advice / support when i could because i knew she was going through a lot of rough stuff. she told me she doesnt have any friends in real life, her parents are separated and her family does not support her or even really know / care about her mental health, and she can’t access any professional help from teachers / counselors / therapists due to her severe anxiety and financial issues for some of the latter options listed. as her relationship with her partner began to crumble, i started bearing a lot of the weight of her struggles - she would vent to me and i would always have to be there for her to support her. i told myself that because she was mentally ill and didnt have any support i would take on that role so she wouldnt have to suffer. over the summer of 2016 she almost attempted suicide like…. twice??? and i talked her out of it and it was terrifying and really exhaustimg to constantly be worried about her.

then almost a year ago, in the winter of 2016, she started getting… clingy? we started talking a lot more and i didnt really get like any bad vibes from her but we were pretty much joined @ the hip and stuff and we started telling each other all of our secrets (so this is when i found out her relationship with her girlfriend was starting to crumble, which i didnt previously know) also she started constantly drawing me stuff??? like Drowning me in gift art and i felt really bad for not being able to reciprocate but she told me not to worry and that she used art as a coping method and stuff. at this time, i was going through some stuff too - obviously not as severe as depression / self harming, etc, but i had just gotten out of an almost-relationship with someone i knew from school, and i was doing my best to distance myself from romance in general since i didnt feel mature or confident enough to be in a romantic relationship yet. i told my friend that i was uncomfortable about the prospect of being in a romantic relationship and she seemed to understand.

anyways right around my birthday this year she revealed to me that she was madly in love with me (???!!?!?!?!?!!?!!?). mind you we had never even talked to each other / video called or ANything like that and we had only sent each other One (1) selfie and. it made me really uncomfortable because she said that like i was her moon and stars and her whole world and everything and she constantly dreamed of me??? and that she had been secretly like writing me love poetry and drawing me Even More Art i didnt even know about and…… it was. really overwhelming. it bothered me for so many reasons besides the fact that we had never communicated outside of like chatting / sending messages back nd forth like…. ok she was still in that long distance relationship at the time even though it was crumbling, and she KNEW!!! that i was uncomfortable about romance but she told me anyways and stuff!!!!!! and AHHH it was just really bad. so i panicked over it for a day or two because i was scared that if i Firmly Said No that she would spiral into a depressive episode and actually fatally harm this time but i wrote her this huge long letter letting her down very, very, VERY gently and apologizing for ever leading her on and stuff. and. she never actually wrote back to that letter or told me that it was okay???? which….. should have been a red flag 2 me but. we moved on as friends even though we did this conscious of the fact that she still loved me like that and i didnt feel the same way. looking back on it i regret it so much because i told her that like i would Always Be There For Her Forever and stuff and??? gfkjhgk yeah it wasnt a good time.

its been almost a year since then. in the spring i got my first smartphone and we added each other on a lot of social media stuff including snapchat and moved all our conversations there, then we decided to call each other and exchange phone numbers and see how that worked. i didnt really think much of it and was excited to hear her voice and have a conversation with her but…….. suddenly that one call turned into two and two turned into three and within a few weeks we were calling each other like All The Time (at least once a week if not more) and like making these really fucking elaborate schedules to call each other????? WHICH LIKE i dont think is a normal thing friends do idk if im wrong but!!!!! i literally call None of my other friends except for her, and a lot of that is bc i actually get really anxious and uncomfortable talking on the phone?? (also not to mention my mom doesnt really like me talking on the phone either….) but i never really told her that it made me uncomf or that it was difficult to mnge like i guess it just kinda.. Happened and became the norm. so now on top of constantly messaging each other multiple times a day now we were calling frequently too and there was suddenly a lot more pressure in our relationship because i had to stress out over making a large amount of time in my day to talk to her. i graduated high school this spring and having to balance the extreme emotional load of that major change with like… suddenly having to fall all over myself to make time to talk to this girl i didnt even really know?? was just really bad and i regret it so much because i feel like i missed out on fully experiencing it i guess. im really really passive and im TERRIFIED of confrontation and i dont like saying no to people or telling them if im uncomfortable because They Will Get Mad At Me and it was especially worse bc of my friend’s mental health and so she and i would talk for hours on end because i was afraid that if i got tired and ended the conversation without a legitimate excuse she would get mad at me and hurt herself. since we could fit way more conversation into like… long long hours of talking and talking, we ended up like. just telling each other literally Everything and she “eventually” fell out of love with me and started trying to meet people who she actually knew irl to date!! which was. kinda good bc she met this one girl and they hit it off but then it turns out she was just….. queerbaiting my friend??? which Sucked so that obviously didnt work out. and then she met another girl on this dating app and they started going out and my friend started talking to me less for a little while. it turns out though……. that my friend’s new girlfriend lives in my town??? like i dont know her but bc of that my friend and i almost met in person bc the two of them met up and went out together and stuff and they were gonna drop by and see me but that didnt work out. im getting off topic here but my point is……… she told me she wasnt in love with me anymore and she started seeing other people.

sadly she and her gf recently broke up. their relationship was also really unhealthy just like…… All Of Her Relationships and that other girl broke up with my friend because she said she needed space (she was depressed too and needed to recover and my friend was being too clingy and attention seeking and stuff so she just ended it in the middle of the night over text.) ofc ive stuck around for all of this and my friend has vented about every tiny detail of this relationship to me and its…. been So Stressful. now that shes single again she’s more depressed than ever - over the summer when she was dating that other girl she stopped self harming but she started again when their relationship started going south and now im really scared she’s gonna hurt herself, esp bc she tried to commit suicide again a few months ago which was terrifying. also another thing thats made me REALLY uncomfortable!!!!!!!! is that she Keeps Bringing Up the fact that she was in love with me whenever we talk on the phone??? like Every Single Time We Talk, Without Fail. even when she was talking abt her new gf with me sh was like. comparing her attraction to her gf to her attraction to Me and talking abt how they were similar and different and. i never had the guts to tell her it bothered me but god it just does So So Much!!!!! because we were never in a real relationship and she doesnt even really know me KDSJFHKHGAHHH im rambling so much this makes no sense at all and this is so long im so sorry ahhhh but im… Stressed!

so….. we’re running up on two years since we’ve met and one year since she told me she loved me. im in college now and she’s still in high school, and she’ll be i college next year too. again, i dont think that im depressed or mentally ill, but ive been struggling a LOT with the adjustment from hs to college and its been really really rough on me emotionally. now that my friend is single she’s been solely relying on me and trying to get me to call her multiple times a week because she needs the extra support now that she doesnt have her girlfriend anymore… but she doesnt seem to understand that i i just dont have enough time or energy to give all of myself to her and fall all over myself to make her feel better, especially when i already feel suffocated by her to begin with AND when im suppposed to be starting this new life and putting all of my focus into that. we’re mutuals on every single social media i have and i feel like im constantly being crushed by guilt whenever i do anything for myself or post stuff bc she can see what im doing constantly. and like she asked me to turn my read receipts on when we started moving from snapchat to texting and i have them turned off regularly so i did and it was really uncomfortable. i keep bending myself over backwards to mke sure im making her happy bc im all she has left.

neither of us have good relationships with our moms and so we’re always sneaking around to call each other and lately ive been calling her at school because obviously my mom isnt there and its less of a hassle to sneak around her and and talk……. but its a double edged sword bc i keep having to isolate myself and skip clubs / studying / hanging out with friends and socializing to talk to her and listen to her vent and its just so exhausting and i feel like im starting to seriously fall behind in other areas of my life im supposed to be getting better in. its hard enough adjusting to this and missing high school and stuff and trying to learn how to be an adult and be independent, and having her weight over my shoulders just is making things so much worse. but if i tell her that she’s choking me she’ll hurt herself (she’s literally said to me, Multiple Times (and recently!!!) that if it werent for me she’d be dead by now or she would kill herself and stuff and im the only thing she’s living for at this point. which. i dont know how to feel about that). i feel so trapped and i can’t say or do anything that indicates that im uncomfortable because she’ll get mad at me and make these passive agressive little side comments or do these alarmed emoticons and stuff or give me the silent treatment for a day or two (which is always scary bc like its Good when she’s not talking to me but when she doesnt im scared that something horrible happened to her!!!!!) and its just. god. ive started lying to her and coming up with fake excuses to get out of calling her because the thought of having to go isolate myself in these empty courtyards or nooks and crannies of my college campus is growing more and more uncomfortable and terrifying to me and i just cant fucking be honest about it because i suck. when i talk on the phone with her i have to be really fake and smiley and stuff and all she does is ramble about how horrible things are going for her and then i have to try and give advice when i just am so bad at talking and socializing already and im dealing w my own stuff and its… Awful. im so so weighed down by this nd i know that if she knew she’s being a…. b*rden to me right now she would be devastated and harm herself and stuff so i cant say anything and im spiraling out of control with THI s but you get the point im just really uncomfortable Always!!!! and i feel like my own emotions are completely 100000% inferior to hers because she’s gone through so much more than me and stuff???? and idk if thats True or if its just the way i feel but i just cant do anything around her bc shes like a ticking time bomb and anything i feel or try to do to protect myself from getting hurt will be selfish bc shes hurting way mre than me!!!!!!!!

anyways her birthday just happened a couple weeks ago and i bought her a tiny present and drew her somehting (i felt super guilty about not doing More for it though because shes done so much for me and also literally nobody except me remembered her birthday, not even really her own family). i havent mailed it to her yet (i told her i would send it this weekend, which is why this is marked as urgent) but we just exchanged addresses for the first time so now she not only knows my name, my age, what i look like, my Entire Backstory Ft. My Deepest Darkest Secrets, and how to reach me whenever she wants wherever she wants, but now she knows Exactly where i live and where i go to school too lol yay!!! anyways im getting really really anxious because i just had my midterms for college and didnt talk to her for an entire week last week but this happened right after her gf broke up with her and i think shes mad at me for taking a week off of talking to her. we were gonna call again today but i weaseled my way out of it bc it was so overwhelming and now i have to mail her this gift this weekend and my mom and other fmily members are all yelling at me about it and demanding that i just like…. Not Send It To Her because i dont owe her anything and tht i should just cut her off but if i do she’ll hurt herself nd she follows me everywhere and knows all of my secrets and stuff and idk im just scared that if i end our friendship she’ll try to ruin my life!!!! Like i dont think she would be petty like that or turn people against me or anything but she’s so obsessed with giving all of herself to other people nd she’s literally said she cant function without being 100000% devoted to somebody and like even after she’s broken up with all these other girls she still…. is obsessed with them and angsts over them and stuff and she does that with me even though i never even dated her or anything aND ITS JUST bad

like. idk i just really needed to get all of that out and im sorry it was so so so long and i dont even know what to do but i guess i marked this urgent because like. do i send her the present???? should i try to just like quietly distance myself from her real subtly so she wont notice or should i just straight up tell her that i cant breathe around her anymore and i just. really need space??? or like to not be friends anymore even though we know everything about each other??? am i being manipulated or is it jsut All In My Head that our relationship is toxic??? like idk if i shoud even cut her off completely or aNYTHING or if we could like even go on being just acquaintances from now on and saying hi to each other from time to time. and i feel so mean and bad for writin all of thisstuff about her when i know shses so vulnerable and i havent concretely communicated Any discomfort around her so if she saw this she would immediately know it was about her and do something Terrible to herself nd she constantly spams me with memes about depression and wanting to die and like…. blows up my phone with like 50 text messages at once and its just so so so much to worry about and i!!! just!!!!!! cant function like this anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHH!!

anyways that was a huge disorganized mess and im kinda shaking and i dont even think i got all of it down or communicated how trapped and helpless i feel. ive never been in any situation like this before and i hate that she’s…. yeah. she’s really like manipulated me and stuff and i dont know how to get out of it. every time i think about it i feel like bursting into tears because im just so stuck and i dont even know if the way im feeling is even valid or if its all just lke. in my head or something and this is how friends really are Supposed to be because ive never really had a great social life either and my best friends are honestly my brother and sister and they mean everything to me and so i have friends outside of my family but like idk i never like. really was that close with any of them nad stuff nad idk this isnt about me BUT i just uhhh. am kinda crying a little bit and im sorry fo rbeig a big baby about all of this its all my fault for being a Human Doormat and letting people walk all over me nd tellin myself that i can bear that weight when i really have never taken good care of myself before Ever In My Life and stuff. but anyways im gonna stop rambling now and just… to whoever reads this or responds to this or whatever just thank you for hearing me out even if you think im wrong / crazy / Terrible for feeling this way because it just has been so much and i dont know what to do.

Hey there!

There's a lot going on here, but the bottom line seems to be this; you're in a friendship that you don't want to be in, and that you feel is unhealthy for you.

You are not her therapist. You can't fix her, you can't treat her, you can support her, but that's it. You aren't responsible for her. You're forcing yourself to put all this time and energy into something that you're super uncomfortable with, and don't want to be doing, and it's draining you and destroying your own mental health. You have to put yourself first. It's okay to want to help people, but you HAVE to put yourself first, or else you'll burn out and you won't be able to help anybody.

At the very least, you need to talk to her about how you're feeling, and tell her you need to tone down your relationship. What's happening absolutely isn't fair to you. All you can do to help her is your best, and right now, you're not doing your best because you're not taking care of yourself.

I know you're concerned about her hurting herself or killing herself, but you have to understand that you are not responsible for her. If she does something to herself, it's not as a result of your actions. She's traumatized and mentally ill, and those factors are what causes her to hurt herself. Not you. You are not and can not be responsible for her. Period. If she tells you she's going to kill herself or severely hurt herself, you have her address. Call 911 and ask them to dispatch help to her house. She might hate you for it, but an angry person is far, far better than a dead person. That action very well might save her life, and get her the help that she needs, so don't be afraid to do it.

As for the present, it's totally up to you. You did promise it to her, and fulfilling that promise might help you let her down a little bit more gently. At the same time, giving her a permanent reminder of you could hurt her. Maybe you should ask her? Tell her about how you're feeling and that you can't keep going with this intense of a relationship, and have a conversation about that. During that conversation, you could ask if she still wants the present. She might get angry, or it could help soothe her, or maybe she'll have a totally different reaction. It's hard to know.

This conversation is going to be super, super hard. It's going to be hell, quite frankly. She's a super sensitive person, and she's probably not going to take it well. So remember what I said before, about her not being your responsibility, and do a LOT of self care working up to the conversation and after the conversation. I'd recommend making a self care kit, and putting things in it that help calm you down. My personal self care kit contains nice smelling lotion, soft fabric, stuff to play with, gum, tea bags, and notes from friends reminding me that they love me. You could also be texting a friend during the conversation, so that they can reassure you and help talk you through it.

You may not be going through the same things she is, but your feelings and your struggles are valid. You don't need to destroy yourself to help someone that's "worse" than you are. You need to take care of yourself, and keep yourself as healthy as possible. You aren't any less valuable simply because you're not traumatized or self harming. Your mental health is important, and you need to do what's right for you.

I hope this helps!

♥ - Fawn

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