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dunstory · 3 years

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Yellow

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Panic Attack, Fluff

A/N: sooo, this is my first writing ever! all of this came from a dream i had last may, so i thought i could turn this into an imagine. also, there is a lot of lowercases because im to lazy to correct… sorry!! hope yall enjoy, feedback is appreciated!!

gif is not mine!

yellow, white and red lights came from everywhere. it was happening, the first twenty one pilots convention ever. there were some people with their yellow tapes and bandanas, some with their red beanies and white glasses, even some people cosplaying as the bishops.

everything looked great. unfortunately, you weren't able to stay with josh in the backstage because him and tyler had a lot of interviews to attend and stuff. so you had the chance to explore the convention as yourself. as a clikkie that you first were, not just as Josh Dun's girlfriend. of course, some people recognized you and asked for pictures, which you happily accepted.

you spent most of your time at the stand where the clikkies were playing their tøp covers. you were amazed by their talent and passion, it was just fascinating. you even got yourself to play heavydirtysoul on the drums with another dude, you never felt so cool.

and then it was time. their special concert was about to start. As you arrived to the area, the majority of the fans that were already there recognized you and insisted for you to stay in the front row. at first everything was great, until you actually went to your saved place and started hearing some comments about you.

"she's just not it."

"she doesn't belong here."

"i don't claim her."

"josh deserves WAY better than this."

"she's a whore. she only wants his money."

to say that you're insecure is an understatement, but you could deal with it occasionally, josh knew everything about it and was always there for you.

except for now.

all the overheard voices ignited a bad feeling that you forgot you ever had. it was it. 3 minutes before your boyfriend concert, and you were about to have a panic attack. you were glad that there were chairs for everyone, so you sat and breathed deeply and slowly, as you always practiced. you thought you were going to be ok, until a girl a few rows behind you yelled:

"look how excited she is for her boyfriend's concert!oh my god. she's the only one seated."

you were about to say something back until someone else yelled

"that bitch must be pregnant! she just wanted his baby so he could give her all his money, i am sure."

dear. lord.

"why didn't I just stay home" played repeatedly in your head. but you had to focus on josh, after all, you were there for him.

and just as you calmed down, the lights came to a halt and the concert started. to be honest, you were really glad that it was a pocket show so the boys couldn't interact that much physically with the crowd because the constant movement and yelling was making you dizzy and more overwhelmed by every second, so you were glad that josh wouldn't be able to se your visibly uncomfortable face.

you loved the boys' concerts, you truly did. but you just couldn't wait for this one to finish, to be honest.

at this point, you couldn't even pay attention to tyler's singing, you just had to focus on keeping yourself on its place. considering that you were on the verge of having a panic attack and you couldn't dare to sit down while you're feeling dizzy, nauseous and slowly losing your conscience.

gladly, you could still cry. people would just think that you were thrilled. so that's what you did. you ugly cried until you heard the last screams of "hello" from tyler, meaning that trees was about to end and so was the concert. you couldn't even believe it when the music came to a halt and all you could hear was screams and applauses. these were surely the longest 50 minutes of your life.

as the boys came to the front to bow, josh started to look for you and as he found your eyes, his heart dropped. he knew you too well. he knew you weren't crying because of the concert, bur yes because of something else, most likely your anxiety got the best of you.

he was feeling so bad for you, for having left you alone and now seeing you in this state. he felt and the guilty over him. in a matter of seconds, after tyler said "we're twenty one pilots and so are you" he whispered something in a rush in his ear and he nodded, giving him the permission to run to you.

as he reached you, you started crying even more. you were too overwhelmed at this point. he then grabbed your hands firmly and asked "hey, hey, easy. are you ok?" and you shook your head weakly, feeling like you wouldn't last too long.

"ok, do you think you can jump this grid?" he asked and you nodded with a weak smile. with a help of two securities and the strong arms of your loved one, you made it to his arms. he grabbed you in bridal style and rushed out of the convention center, while kissing your forehead.

at this point, you were crumbling completely, letting all your feelings out. you were embarrassed, nervous, overwhelmed but above all, relieved for being finally in the arms of the man you loved the most. when you arrived outside, josh sat on the floor with you on his arms. he held you tightly, never wanting to let you go, he loved you so much that he couldn't put into words, so he demonstrated with actions, all the time.

and the same goes for you, you adored him, you never felt such as a thing as you felt your love for josh, it was overwhelming, but in good way actually.

he didn't ask you any questions. he just held you, kissing your forehead, massaging your back and eventually taking your hair out of your face. he stayed in silence with you, just gesturing with his hands the breathing exercises that you both had been practicing. once he made sure your breath was controlled, he just made his magic.

"and it was all yellow..." he sang lowly, only enough for you and him to listen.

it was like the whole world stopped, and it was just you and him. he forgot about his problems and commitments, even the meet&greet's that were about to happen after the show, he forgot they existed, his priority was you and you only.

"your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones..." he kept singing, shyly but doing it all for you.

you couldn't believe this, your favorite song being sang by your favorite person. he knew just the right buttons to press to make you feel like yourself again. you could feel your tears slowly drying and you smiled weakly against his chest, feeling the comfort you could never get tired of. feeling your smile encouraged josh to sing louder, as a way to also express his feelings, especially what he felt for you.

"turn in to something beautiful..."

you knew it wasn't going to be the last time you were going to hear his pretty voice sing. now that you knew that he would do this for you, you would always get the best of it. at this point, you were almost crying of joy. he was too sweet for you.

"do you know, you know i love you so.."

now, you had forgotten about the last one and a half hours of your life. you were back into your reality, where you felt good and happy, all of this because you had this yellow headed smiley boy by your side, always. to make an honor to him, you got all the strength you had left after crying a river and sang the last verse with him.

"you know i love you so... much." you nearly whispered the last word.

as he heard your tired voice, josh looked down at you with pure love in his eyes, that face that once was full of concern was now relaxed again, as the smile that he loved so much was returned to you.

all you knew was that you're going to be okay, it didn't matter what'd have to deal later in social media and press. you were okay, and while Josh was by your side, you'd always be. no matter what. even if he was comforting you from a panic attack in the middle of a sidewalk. it was just okay. after all, for him, you'd bleed yourself dry. and so would him for you.

#josh dun #yellow #twenty one pilots #fanfic #joshua dun #josh dun imagines #twenty one pilots imagines #josh dun imagine #twenty one pilots fan fiction #josh dun x reader

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xiaomoxu · 3 years

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LUCIEN - Taste Date

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

The projector in the living room flickered, and the music at the end of the movie was intertwined with the warm sunshine. In this space that belongs to me and Xu Mo, there is a warmth day after day.

I looked at the scrolling subtitles on the screen and yawned.

Xu Mo: Do you think the movie is boring?

Xu Mo turned his head and looked at me with a faint voice as always, but the smile in his eyes was a little bit more than usual.

MC: Nope. The movie is very interesting. I especially like narration, music and mirroring.

MC: It's the movie you picked.

As I said, I leaned against Xu Mo again, leaning my head on his shoulder.

MC: I just relax suddenly and feel like I'm lazy

MC: Obviously I did all kinds of imagination before the holiday, but when I could really rest, my brain went on strike, and I didn't even bother to think about the plan.

Xu Mo: However, if you don't plan well, this rest day will also slip away unknowingly.

MC: There is nothing wrong with this principle

MC: Then we will discuss how to spend a full and rich rest day tomorrow.

MC: But right now... just rest with nothing to do for one day, okay?

When I looked up at him, I was amused and blinked earnestly. Xu Mo seemed to squeeze my face helplessly.

Xu Mo: You...

Xu Mo: Do you want to watch another movie?

Before I had time to agree, Xu Mo's phone on the table rang untimely.

The caller is Aming.

Xu Mo pressed the hands-free button after answering the phone, got up and walked to the cabinet where the discs were stored.

Aming: Professor Xu, sorry to disturb you.

Xu Mo: what's happening?

Aming: Do you have any arrangements for today? The previous experiment has made some progress, I would like to trouble you to follow up.

Xu Mo paused when he picked the DVD.

Xu Mo: is it urgent?

Aming: It's not actually too late after the holidays.

Aming: However, there will be a few academic conferences and postgraduate papers that you need to check. Time will be a little tight.

Xu Mo: I know. Leave it until after the holidays.

Aming: Alright professor, take a good rest.

As the phone hung up, Xu Mo also chose the DVD. And I, who was listening silently beside him, suddenly had a thought.

MC: Xu Mo, I have a plan!

Xu Mo: Yes?

MC: Since it's a holiday now, there shouldn't be many people in the research right?

Xu Mo: Well, that's right.

MC: Then I will go to work with you!

As if shocked by my sudden suggestion, Xu Mo raised his eyebrows and said again to confirm.

Xu Mo: Go to work with me?

MC: Yes! This way you can spend the rest day with you without delaying your work.

MC: And it satisfies the condition of "fullness and richness" very well. Isn't it a great idea?

Xu Mo: I do not deny that this is a feasible method....

Xu Mo: But my work is probably not as interesting as you think

I shook my head vigorously.

MC: It is not an opportunity every day to see Professor Xu's work side up close.

MC: This holiday plan will definitely be the one I wanted to start a long time ago.

MC: "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation" project adds an important record!

Although I have “sneaked in” here many times because I gave Xu Mo a lunch box or helped him take care of the plants in the office...

But walking into the office with him in this way and watching him sitting behind his desk up close is still a new experience.

MC: Xu Mo, you just treat me as if I'm not here, just do your usual work normally!

Seeing that I had quite taken out a notebook to record his daily momentum of work, Xu Mo gently tapped on my head.

Xu Mo: Well, now that producer MC is fully prepared, then I will cooperate well.

Xu Mo: But say it in advance, even if you feel boring, you can't run away.

MC: Pftー don't worry, I won't!

I hope our "cooperation" today will be turned well.

I held back a smile, sat pretentiously on the sofa in the corner of his office, and waved to him.

The so-called "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation" project, only "observing Xu Mo" is my real purpose.

The person in front of me always seemed to be able to cooperate with my careful thoughts, and would not pierce easily.

For me, seeing Xu Mo's work in a rare way is already the most interesting thing for me.

Xu Mo sat behind his desk, his narrow eyes could not see emotions, only the light spots on his face swayed playfully with his breathing rate.

We didn't speak for a while, and typing sounds regularly echoed in the office where only the two of us were alone.

Xu Mo: Is it connected to the intranet?

Xu Mo didn't stop his hand movements and spoke naturally

MC: Yep, it's already connected.

MC: However, the network speed of the highest biotechnology institute is really fast

??: After all, we have a lot of data to process, and it will be troublesome if the network cannot keep up.

With a soft knock on the door, a familiar voice heard outside the door.

Researcher: Amin told me that the professor was not coming today, and he was probably going to accompany MC. I saw that the office light was on, and it was strange.

Researcher: Unexpectedly, you came together.

The other party was one of the researchers who followed Xu Mo as a researcher, and I had met Xu Mo several times before.

Xu Mo nodded lightly in response, and I also smiled politely at him.

MC: Do you have a job to talk about? Then I first

Researcher: No, no, I will go back to the lab now. Professor, you are busy, I won't bother you.

The researcher winked at us jokingly and waved away.

Xu Mo raised his eyes and looked at the direction the person was leaving, then smiled and said to me.

Xu Mo: It seems that when I didn't know, the researchers around me had a better relationship with you.

MC: Because everyone is very kind.

Xu Mo: A lot of things have been added to the office unknowingly.

Xu Mo smiled and pointed to the blanket on the sofa.

MC: Of course. My goal is to make it comfortable and easy to work with!

Xu Mo: Then I will wait and see.

In the next few hours, Xu Mo's typing sound never stopped.

Occasionally, a few researchers came in to submit materials, and because they were all familiar people, they directly handed me the documents that needed to be sorted out.

In this way, I also feel a little happy to be around Xu Mo and do something for him.

But....

Xu Mo: Ugh...

Hearing Xu Mo's sigh for many times today, I walked behind him and massaged his shoulders and neck.

You keep sighing, is your work today not going well?

Xu Mo: Is not. It's just that the efficiency is not as high as usual.

MC: Is it too tired?

MC: Xu Mo smiled and took my hand, leaned a little later, half leaning on me.

He took off his glasses and put them on the table. The eyes that looked at me were full of clarity, and there was no fatigue.

Xu Mo: If you are here, I will be distracted.

Xu Mo: Are you hungry, do you want to eat first?

The noon daylight gradually slanted, and the crisp keyboard tapping in my ears stopped.

Xu Mo stood up and moved his shoulder and neck slightly.

The work is more cumbersome than I thought, and it may take more time.

Xu Mo: Why not we have lunch together?

MC: It would be nice if Professor Xu Mo could eat as well as he did today in his usual work.

Xu Mo: With your strict supervision, I am getting healthier day by day.

Xu Mo got up and put on his coat, and naturally brought me a coat and hat.

Xu Mo: For the restaurants nearby.

Seeing Xu Mo's thinking, I interrupted him first.

MC: Today I am here to do "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation", so just go to the place where you usually eat.

Xu Mo: But I usually.....

I can probably guess what he said subconsciously. I squinted at Xu Mo.

MC: Did you really eat well under my supervision?

Xu Mo: ....

Xu Mo: Compared to before, my life is indeed much healthier. Especially the love bento you sent, I ate them on time.

MC: Huh?

MC: What about when I didn't send it? Is it not on time?

I did not let Xu Mo go, but further "questioned" him.

Xu Mo: Overall.... it is on time.

Xu Mo turned his gaze away with a rare guilty conscience, and gave an ambiguous answer.

MC: Then take me to the place where you usually eat now.

MC: I have to supervise the cunning big fox Professor Xu!

Although I am always amused by him accidentally, I will never compromise in this kind of place.

Xu Mo: Alright, I get it.

Xu Mo: In the future, I will follow MC's requirements more strictly and try to ensure that I work and rest regularly.

Seeing that I couldn't help but Xu Mo could only sigh and surrender.

Xu Mo took me to a small restaurant near the research center.

Most of the diners who come and go in the store wear badges from the research center.

MC: It seems that this is still a popular meal of the research center.

Xu Mo and I stood at the end of the ordering queue, looking up at the short menu. The dishes were almost occupied by sandwiches, burgers and pizza.

MC: But the food does not seem to be too rich...

Xu Mo: Yes. After all, people usually think more about how to make eating time the most efficient than enjoying food.

Xu Mo: If you have not forgotten to eat, you will choose food that is portable and can be eaten as quickly as possible.

Xu Mo: So you can finish a meal while walking or working.

Xu Mo didn't look at the menu and ordered a sandwich when it was our turn.

It seems that he does come here often.

The clerk clearly placed the order and settled the bill. The smooth and streamlined movements are in line with efficiency aesthetics.

MC : I'm going the other way with you, and I will never give up any chance to enjoy food

MC: Occasionally, I ran for a cup of coffee during my lunch break.

MC: After all, eating is a very happy thing.

Xu Mo: Yes. Indeed it is.

MC: Xu Mo looked at me as if he missed and said with joy.

Xu Mo: I didn't think three meals a day were important or pleasant.

Xu Mo: But I found it now.

Xu Mo: This feeling is especially strong when you eat the rice cooked by this "Snail Girl".

Almost as soon as I was seated, the clerk had already delivered some nice sandwiches.

MC: Huh? Is this restaurant serving food so fast?

The sandwiches on the tray are very rich in content, some vegetables and meat, and it seems that there is an egg in it.

MC: Is this your usual lunch?

Xu Mo nodded and unpacked.

Xu Mo: The sandwiches in this shop are very popular in the research center.

MC: Is it because the nutrition is balanced and delicious?

Xu Mo: Would you like to taste it?

Xu Mo smiled and split off a corner of the sandwich and handed it to me.

While talking, other meals were also delivered over.

In such a comparison, I always feel that the sandwich in front of me looks very simple.

But as the saying goes, the food is not good.

MC: Well.... the nutrition seems to be very balanced.

I returned Xu Mo with a bright smile.

Xu Mo: Doesn't it taste good? It's better to say that it was just enough to swallow it just now.

MC: ....

MC: It must be that the ingredients used in the store are more particular, right? It can add rich nutrition.

Xu Mo: It's just ordinary ingredients.

Xu Mo: From a nutritional point of view, meat is somewhat insufficient, and the intake of carbohydrates and protein is definitely not enough.

I tried to maintain the smile on my face, somewhat worried whether the store would hear this straightforward conversation and swept us out.

Xu Mo: However, it has a unique advantage that it can become the favorite food in the hearts of researchers at the research center.

I opened my eyes slightly and listened carefully.

Xu Mo: High speed.

MC: What?

Xu Mo: The serving speed is very fast, if it is taken away, the speed is even faster.

MC: So that's all...

Xu Mo: Someone once did statistics...

Xu Mo: If you order this sandwich in this restaurant, you can save at least 13 minutes and 22 seconds even during peak dining periods.

As I listened to this so precise and unnecessary data, my brain gradually emptied.

Does the research scope of the research center cover this kind of place?!

Xu Mo: This statistical report covers all shops within a walking distance of 20 minutes, and the credibility is very high.

MC: That's it, everyone at the research center are so strictㅡ

Xu Mo was amused by my lack of emotional ups and downs, and he pushed my burger toward me.

Xu Mo: But the taste of other dishes should be normal and worth eating.

Sure enough, the beef Hamburg, which looked very tender and juicy, basically reached the standard of "delicious".

Compared with the tasteless sandwich just eaten, it can be called "delicious."

MC: So, do you usually eat this kind of food for lunch?

Xu Mo: Yes. This is considered to be one of the most optimal in all aspects

Xu Mo bit the sandwich in his hand and explained the facts calmly.

MC: Although time is important and this sentence is also very long-winded, I still think three meals a day are very important

MC: After serious work, it is worth rewarding yourself with delicious, nutritious and balanced food.

MC: Eating enough and sleeping well is not only a guarantee of life, but also a statement to myself: Today I am also living seriously.

Facing my serious "preaching" Xu Mo stretched out his fingers to smooth my frowning brows, and smiled a little happier than before.

Xu Mo: It is as expected.

Seeing me looking at him a little puzzled, Xu Mo smiled and fed me a piece of French fries, and continued to speak.

Xu Mo: Several times, when I ate sandwiches from this restaurant, I wondered how you would react if you came here and ate the same food as me.

Xu Mo: When you taste the taste, you will definitely hesitate to say it bluntly.

Xu Mo: You will definitely tell me after listening to my reasons for choosing it, to eat well and take care of yourself.

Xu Mo: My guess was not wrong.

MC: Hm....

MC: Why do you think of me at this time?

Xu Mo: When you encounter all kinds of things, you will always share with me

Xu Mo: Every time I receive a message from you and learn about every bit of your life, I am very happy.

Xu Mo: Of course I would want to do the same thing.

Xu Mo: Rather, it is the most normal thing to unconsciously think of the people you care about in every bit of your life.

Xu Mo's tone was light.

This is indeed an ordinary thing.

But this kind of thing, being said so bluntly and seriously by him, still makes my cheeks hot.

MC: You, why don't you hurry up and try other foods?

MC: This pizza looks delicious. Would you like to try it?

As if to conceal my feeling of making a fuss about "normal things", my body has already taken a step before my reaction.

(karma CG included)

I picked up the pizza just baked and handed it to Xu Mo.

MC: Is it a sweet pizza that you haven't tried before, try it?

Xu Mo didn't take the pizza I handed over, but just bent down and bit the tip of the pizza.

His snort rubbed my fingers, it was warm and a touch of humidity.

The reduced distance is like a switch that flashes a similar scene in my mind.

Xu Mo: is good?

Xu Mo who bit the pizza opened his eyes slightly.

MC: Is the pizza with cheese, blueberry and honey taste too weird?

I looked at Xu Mo's face and tried to find the answer in his expression.

Xu Mo moved closer to my side and bit off the cheese.

Probably the pizza that was just out of the oven was still a little hot, Xu Mo didn't speak immediately, but motioned for me to try it too.

MC: It is good!

On the first bite of the pizza, I also opened my eyes wide and nodded to Xu Mo frequently.

MC: it's nice!

MC: Unexpectedly, there is such a delicious thing hidden in a place so close to the research center!

The little beauty and surprise that I suddenly found, the joy that I shared with my favorite person the first time...

The scent of blueberries and the sweet taste of honey are intertwined, and the heart is full of satisfaction.

Xu Mo: It seems that I am too underestimated and I am too used to this restaurant.

MC: Coming with you today is really rewarding!

Xu Mo: Indeed it is.

As Xu Mo said, he picked up another slice of pizza and handed it to me, his eyes were softer than the lemon-colored sunlight outside the window.

Xu Mo: Even if I'm very familiar with the things I am used to, when I'm with you, it will always be different.

Xu Mo: It seems that as long as I look at you, I won't miss all the beautiful things.

Xu Mo's voice is still so faint, with some warmth and softness in the heart.

MC: In the future, I will continue to work hard to discover the little beauty in life.

MC: So Professor Xu will continue to rest assured with me.

He did not speak any more, just smile and stretch out his finger and wiped the corners of my mouth.

There have been many times when he used the same tone and tone to explain a certain theory and a certain truth for me.

Just now, he told me more facts about himself.

Small, ordinary facts have not been verified by large sections of papers, nor are they new discoveries that shock the world.

But it is absolutely correct and constant like any other law that constructs this world.

It was enough to make my heart beat faster than usual.

--- END ---

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

#mlqc spoilers #mlqc translation #mr love spoilers #mr love translation #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mr love lucien #mr love xu mo #mr love date #mldd date #mldd lucien #mldd translation #MLQC

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mzmarionette · 3 years

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Head Canons No One Asked For But Yall Are Getting Anyway

UMEJI:

- His thing for Osoro is totally one-sided.

- Like, I'm sure it's possible, but I haven't found a fanfic/oneshot realistic enough for me to really imagine it myself

- Says he's neutral on family? Haha, you fools..

- Knowing me there's gotta be some lore

- So, his dad is always working, and his mom usually stays at home- pretty neutral, right?

- Well, keep in mind that he's got a sister!

- An older sister who's just left prison (ooh, drama)

- But here's the deal- she's not actually a criminal.

- See, back in middle school, Umeji had these "friends"

- These "friends" forced him to do less-then-legal things

- When they got caught, his sister was on the scene, and took all the blame

- Here's the thing- she knew something was up, but she never knew what it was

- So when she caught them and took the blame, she didn't realize that the sentence would be a couple of years

- When she came back, excited to see her brother again, he only ignored her

- This is simply because he felt guilty, and of course he denied feeling that way

HAYANARI:

- I dunno about you, but when i see Pre-Hayanari, I see someone who's nervous af

- So, that's how I made him

- He treats any and all wounds the others gets

- He (usually) plays it safe

- And he has the biggest conscience out of them all

- It says he dislikes family, so i've decided to give him a verbally abusive and neglectful mom

- They're a very rich family, so she buys all that she can when she can

- But then you may be wondering: how did Hayanari end up as such a(n internal) sweetheart?

- Well, that would be because of his doting father

- Rich, but on his deathbed

- Struck with a fatal illness, all he can do is wait for Hayanari to come daily so he can check up on him

- Of course, by the time his father does pass, his mother might as well kick him out for whatever reason- at least that's his fear

- He was used to a lush life as a kid, so thinking of what could happen when his dad dies brings him a lot of anxiety

- Of course, despite this, he still tries to be there for his gang whenever they need it, giving him the tough love he only half received in his life

GAKU:

- Guess what? He's the shortest of them all lmao

- Not only that but he has the shortest fuse, too

- He wants to prove his worth, despite having been picked on 24/7 before

- He had a BROKEN ARM for god's sake

- Plus, with his family, his parents died long before he could remember

- Ever since, his brother's been doing whatever he could to make money

- The older he got, the less time he had to spend with him

- Eventually, Gaku only knew him as "the guy who paid rent"

- Or quite possibly "the guy who left him a couple hundred every morning"

- He lives his life lonely, aside from his gang

- They're a big part of his family simply because they were THERE

- They were present when times got tough- and when his brother wasn't

- He doesn't know what's up with his brother- if he can even call him that

- But at this point he's quite nearly fed up with how his life's gone

HOKUTO:

- He LOOKS like a playboy

- Pre-Hokuto KNEW he was gorgeous- and boy, he still knows it now

- He's literally the only one who will send a playful wink to whoever gazes at him too long

- Of course, this is the exact reason he was picked on

- Not only that, but life at home wasn't too good either

- His mother and father are workaholics, which only leaves his sorry excuse for a brother

- Be it one of his girlfriends or his buddies, Hokuto's brother will always call him out

- He comes home upset about something, he'll call him out

- He'll call him emotional or just discard him as some kid going through some punk phase

- His older brother was always the favorite

- He had the better grades, had "great" company over, basically he was perfect

- Hokuto? Some emotional teenager.

- But yknow what? He's got a couple more punks at school who'll admit that he's a hot mess (emphasis on hot) and still hang with him

DAIROKU:

- Probs the quietest

- His gang's in trouble? Hang on, let him finish his ramen

- Not that he doesn't care- he's just naturally tired

- Maybe that's because he's surrounded by girls 24/7

- His younger sister who literally only parties

- His older sister who's stressed and works at home and out

- And his mother, who takes care of the house

- The father? Ran off round 20 years ago- before even he was born

- Right now, Dairoku's trying to get a job to support his family

- He does what he can in such a rundown house, and with his reputation

- If anything, he longs to have a conversation with his mother

- He wants her to tell him "good job" for being so helpful- instead of pleading for him to keep his grades up

- Not like he had a dad to do it for her

- Of course, until that day comes all he can do is work harder

(Btw this is totally not my sad excuse of an update because i've been lacking as of recently)

#Umeji #Hokuto #Hayanari #Dairoku #Gaku #headcanons #Delinquents #Mention of osoro

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crystalgirl259 · 3 years

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Guilty Pleasures Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Noah’s Ark

It would be over three thousand years before Zane met the strange demon known as Kai again. In those years the human race had grown at a rapid rate and had taken over pretty much the entire planet. Zane couldn't help but wonder if the human's sudden growth was always part of the plan or if the weapons he and Kai had gifted Adam and Eve had had a hand with it and aided in their expansion. Zane shuddered as he thought about the weapons from Heaven and Hell.

After he had sealed the Garden of Eden, the Almighty had only asked him once where the shurikens were and thankfully he managed to convince them that they were in the garden somewhere.

He had tried to find the two weapons in later years but it seemed that they had been lost to time. The angel was standing among a large crowd, watching as Noah finished building his ark. Noah's family had begun to lead the pairs of animals on board. While most of the crowd laughed and jeered at the man, Zane was just barely managing to keep the bile down, knowing what was coming. He wanted so desperately to warn the people, to tell them Noah was telling the truth and that they needed to find boats.

But at the same time, he knew that they wouldn't listen and that it was too late anyway.

Before they finished even a small boat the flood would come and wash them all away. As the angel wrestled with his thoughts, he suddenly felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned to see Kai standing beside him with a big grin on his face. The demon hadn't changed at all since Zane had last seen him. The only different thing was the brunette's missing wings that had been hidden, much like Zane's own wings.

"Hello, Zane." Kai greeted warmly and Zane wondered what had drawn the demon here.

"Kai," Zane replied awkwardly. He still didn't know how to properly interact with a demon, even if this one didn't come off as a threat right away.

"So, giving the mortals a flaming sword and icy shurikens, how do you think that worked out for us?" Kai asked with what Zane could swear was a mischievous purr.

"The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again." He replied, trying to keep his attention on the boat.

"Probably a good thing." He shrugged as he looked around at the crowd and back at the boat. "So what's all this about? Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo?" He asked and Zane had took swallow the lump in his throat as he thought of a response.

"From what I hear, God's a bit tetchy and is wiping out the human race... with a big storm." He stammered, catching the demon off-guard.

"All of them?"

"Just the locals." Zane tried to smile, but it was so strained even Kai could see through it. "I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese, or the Native Americans, or the Australians."

"Yet."

"And God's not going to wipe out all the locals; I mean, Noah, up there, his family, and his sons, their wives, they're all going to be fine." He tried to reassure, but it had little to no effect on the brunette.

"But they're drowning everybody else?" He scoffed as he looked around at the crowd who were ignorant to their impending doom. His eyes widened when he saw a small group of kids running and playing in the crowd. "You can't kill children." He gasped in horror when Zane reluctantly nodded, snake eyes wide open. Not even a demon would kill a child. Why kill something when they wouldn't go to hell, anyway? Something that couldn't defend itself.

It wasn't logical.

It wasn't fair either, he thought. But only very quietly to himself. Zane had looked so helpless, but he hadn't agreed with the demon. At least he hadn't said it out loud. Although something had been in the angels' beautiful eyes. Kai liked to imagine that it was doubt. Still, he knew that having exactly that could be extremely dangerous. One doesn't simply doubt the great plan. Kai wanted to save the children. He did. The reason why he wanted to do that was far apart from any comprehension.

It couldn't be that wrong or right or whatever.

Only that way the children could grow old and be bad and ultimately go to hell, and that should be hells' only concern, anyway. He observed the Ark from every side. It was huge. Much bigger than a house, and much bigger than a dune, and much bigger than any animal climbing aboard. There should be more than enough space for everything and more. Also, the other unicorn was still missing. Kai wasn't too concerned, they still had the other one.

An idea started to form, as he observed the Ark.

There were a lot of animals and no one was paying as much attention to them as they should. A unicorn had already gotten away, anyway. Maybe, just maybe, this could also work the other way around. There should be enough space...

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

Zane felt bad. He felt as bad as he never did before. He felt even too bad to listen to his conscience, which tried to tell him something. It couldn't be that important, though. The fresh air didn't make it better. The angel was the first one to discover seasickness. On the third evening, Zane sat outside between a flamingo and a gazelle and tried to keep the contents of his dinner where they belonged.

"Snowflake, are you ok?" Kai asked, suddenly standing between him and the flamingo. The flamingo watched him suspiciously with his head tilted.

"Oh, I'm fine," Zane answered bravely.

"Are you sure? The light makes you look a bit greenish." He said and the angel tried not to stare at the demon's long and probably soft hair in the wind and falling into his eyes.

"Maybe a bit tired." He said, clinging onto the railing.

"Tired?"

"Tired." He repeated. Kai had never seen an angel getting sick before. Maybe it was Gods' anger that made it that way. Maybe it was something entirely different. Either way, the demon was worried. It was a huge ark. There were near to no waves at all. Which meant, the floor was practically not shaking any bit. Zane glanced at him, help to seek. The angel sighed dramatically once more.

"I'll make you some ginger tea." The demon finally said.

"I'll feel miserable till the end of-"

"You'll be fine in two or three days, trust me." The demon assured him. Zane took a step forward, then let himself fall against the railing again and got even greener if possible. "What did you eat?" Kai asked as he took the angel carefully by the arm.

"Some tuna I think," Zane admitted reluctantly.

"Bad idea." He sighed as he shook his head. Zane flinched at the word bad. "Let's go inside, ok?" The demon suggested as he half carried him inside. His hands felt hot, but also his touch was strangely calming, and maybe just a little bit nice. "What do you usually do to calm yourself down, angel?" He asked reluctantly. This made the angel jump a bit. Then he looked to the ceiling with a pinch of guilt, as they slowly walked down the stairs and deeper into the Ark.

"I read or write something."

"You should stop that."

"I will do no such thing!" Zane cried as he ripped his arm away and a moment later he grabbed for Kai again because he almost fell over a big rat.

"I mean you should stop that as long as you feel bad." Kai chuckled lightly as he brought the angel back to his cabin which he shared with different breeds of pigeon and two friendly brown chickens.

"Will you read something for me? Please?" Zane asked as he snuggled into a blanket. Kai hesitated for a moment, but then he grabbed a scroll that was lying next to Zane's bed. How could he say no? The angel looked at him expectantly. The scroll was made of dried leaves and the tiny symbols looked like they were written with blood. Since the demon couldn't read, he had to improvise. He sat down next to the angel, not too close but not too far, opened the scroll from the wrong side, and began to tell a story.

Zane closed his eyes and smiled so sweetly that it made Kai almost forget how words work.

But he took a deep breath and continued his story bravely. Kai kept talking quietly over the singing of some budgies, the yawning tiger, the cheeping degu until Zane calmed down enough to not sleep but dream. After he had made sure that Zane was feeling better, the demon left him alone, although he desperately wanted to stay. But he had other things to do...

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

Zane had rested for hours and was now refreshed. The angel felt much stronger, although still shaky. But now he was bored and he had been thinking about Kai for a while now. For some reason he couldn't explain, he just wanted to see him again. Preferably sooner than later.

"Kai? Where are you? Could you... Could you read me another story, please?" He shouted as loud as he dared, which wasn't very loud, as he approached the section where there were zebras, some apes, and a few butterflies. It was quite dark. Only a few candles lit this section. There he found Kai, but the demon didn't look pleased to see him.

"Wait a moment, Snowflake; don't come here." He said, sounding nervous.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Zane asked and went there, anyway. Just then, a young girl that had been hiding in the shadows and he had almost walked into ran and hid behind Kai. He stared at a terrifying demon surrounded by small children, mouth agape. Two were holding his hands and one was sitting on his shoulders, badly braiding his long hair with tiny and probably not very clean fingers. In the background, they heard a hog making some unhappy sounds.

"What did you do?!" Zane almost hissed.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Kai said, trying to act innocent.

"I'm talking about the children! Where do they come from?"

"Oh.. hey... I haven't even noticed them."

"Kai." Zane scowled as he crossed his arms. He uncrossed them again, however, because he needed them for stability. He felt himself getting sick again. Was the floor getting shakier?

"You can't kill children." The demon finally said softly.

"WE CAN'T- can't keep them here." He insisted, trying to keep his tone down as the small girl sitting on Kai's shoulders started crying.

"What do you intend to do? Throw them overboard? Does the ineffable plan tell you to do that?" Kai snarled and for a moment their eyes were locked. Zane then sighed and fixed his gaze on the floorboards as the demon glared at him.

"What now, angel?"

"No, I don't –Do you even know how to take care of children?"

"Do you?" Kai asked sarcastically.

"No, I don't…"

"Me neither." The demon sighed. Zane watched the kids held Kai's hands and hid behind him. He quickly realized that they were afraid of the angel. After a moment of careful consideration, ha decided that he didn't want them to fear an angel. He was supposed to be the good one. "Do you think about snitching?" Kai asked, his voice sounded somehow hurt.

"No, I- I thought, that we both don't know how to take care of children, but maybe we could learn it together." He offered awkwardly. At first, the demon felt like he was petrified, but then he sighed.

"If you want to, yeah, whatever; you look for something to feed them and maybe a bit of clean water and Ava over there wants to see the unicorn so I'll go with her and show her if you keep an eye on the others for a while because I can't take all of them there because Amon over there is scared of horses and I don't know how he will react to a unicorn." He shrugged and Zane nodded. They had never taken care of living beings, before. Okay, not really.

But they learned quickly and all the children survived.

Kai in his snake form would curl around the children to keep them warm. Zane would cook something nutritious for them to eat. He would eat most of it, but they're also would be more than enough for the children. After that, they would talk. Tell stories on a stormy night to calm everyone down. Mostly the angel, because the shaking of the ark didn't make him feel good. Still, his stomach would get upset from time to time.

"I'm glad, you were there," Zane said one night quietly, as they watched over the children sleeping. Kai didn't answer. He picked up a beautiful feather of a parakeet and gently put it in Zane's hair.

"I gave the Mammoths' ration to the children; I mean... it's a huge animal, so it should be fine without one dinner." He said casually after a while. Then the angel wondered, when the last time was, that he fed the mammoths. It couldn't be this long ago. The Ark would have a little fewer passengers when it arrived than when it started sailing. But the children would all survive and grow to be adults. Raised by an angel and a demon, all of them got to be fundamentally human.

Lurking between the goats, there was a second demon which none of the other beings noticed.

Even then he had smelled bad, but to be completely honest, everywhere on the Ark it smelled pretty bad. Between lurking sessions, he enjoyed scaring the birds. There were a few penguins that he didn't like. One had bitten his hand when he tried to pet it. Therefore Morro made the penguin stop flying. All the other birds hated him for that. Sometimes he also scared some children. But weren't there more than there were supposed to be? One time he saw the demon Kai holding the hand of a small girl as she cried.

After a while, she stopped crying as he talked to her calmingly and fell asleep in Kai's arms.

This confused Morro. Why would he do that? This was the first time when Morro suspected something. He didn't like it. Something was going on, something fishy, and it wasn't the fish. He couldn't prove it though, not just yet. He didn't know how to yet. But he was lurking in the shadows, ready to strike. Still, he was new to the job, but he gave his best and already could do an impressive amount of lurking in a day or preferably at night...

#ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago zane #oppositeshipping #guilty pleasures #ninjago morro #ninjago fanfiction

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justsomeoneunordinary · 3 years

Text

Solo Tu

Day 4 of @winteriron-week: Fluff

Yeah, I said in the last fic that I’d combine day 3 and 4, but I don’t like how it looks like with one missing, so I still wrote this for day 4 specifically.

Also, there is obviously absolutely no chance that I’ll manage finishing the remaining prompts until Wednesday when the collection closes. While I’m a little bit disappointed in myself for that (even though it’s not my fault real life is a thing and got in the way), I still wanna write them all, just because. So, while they won’t be in the collection anymore, I will continue to upload them here on Tumblr as well as on AO3.

T, 1.4k, Tooth-Rotting Fluff With Absolutely Zero Plot Whatsoever | AO3

(Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3)

—

Solo tu

Col calore

Quel mattino che rinasce

Intorno al sole

Cosa puo’ piu’ importare

Se la pelle tua si lascia accarezzare

The soft melody of the Italian song woke Bucky. He felt a hand brush through his hair and the smell of coffee rose immediately to his nostrils as he took a deep breath and slowly stretched.

“Your hair is so soft,” Tony murmured as he began to gently pluck on individual strands. “I still don’t know how you do it. After all, we use the same conditioner.”

Bucky just grunted and buried his face deeper into Tony’s lap. A breeze blew through the open window and carried in the smell of the salt water, which blended together with that of the coffee, and automatically put a smile on his face.

“Must be the super soldier serum,” Tony concluded.

This made Bucky snort. “What, you think the serum enhanced my hair’s smoothness?”

“How else can you be two thousand years old and still not suffer from hair loss?” Bucky could literally hear the triumphant grin in Tony’s voice, he didn’t even have to look up.

“Two thousand? Honey, I think you miscalculated a little.”

“Nonsense, I’m a genius—my math is always right.”

Bucky felt another tug of his hair, this time a little firmer than before, and whatever Tony was up to, it couldn’t be good. “Tony, are you trying to pull my hair out of envy? If so, I can assure you that your hair is at least just as beautiful, especially with the gray areas.”

Tony laughed. “‘At least just as beautiful’, you are not exactly modest.” He continued to pull his hair and explained, “No, you dork. I’m braiding it.” As if it were a matter of course.

“Oh, great. Can’t wait to unknot my hair later.”

This earned him a slight pinch on the ear. “Listen, Barnes, I won’t tolerate such disrespect here.”

Bucky grinned and finally opened his eyes, looking up at Tony’s mock insulted expression, because for what he said next, he wanted to see the reaction, “It’s Stark-Barnes now, get your facts straight.”

And yep, there it was: Tony’s eyes immediately shone with joy, emphasized by the morning sun, which turned the wonderful brown into a brilliant gold. A faint smile formed on his lips and it was as if his face were beaming in competition with the sun.

Bucky couldn’t help but take Tony’s left hand in his and kiss the golden ring on his finger, never taking his eyes off Tony’s.

Four days. Four days since they had said “Yes, I do” and retired for their honeymoon here at the Carbonell residence in Sicily. Just the two of them, this way too big house and the sea.

“I ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y. to only disturb us in an emergency. And only if the world is about to doom. Which means, neither an Avengers nor an SI problem will be able to get in our way,” Tony had explained with a grin when they got here and then dragged Bucky to bed without any warning.

With every morning he woke up, Bucky was struck by the wonder that this was indeed real. That after everything they’d both been through, he could still find happiness with Tony. Sometimes the world did give something back.

“God, you’re so cheesy,” Tony complained half-heartedly, while the smile didn’t leave his lips.

Bucky merely raised an eyebrow and pointed with a look at the loudspeaker from which the song was still being played, because…

Solo tu

Stamattina per alzarmi è ancora giorno insieme a te

… not only he was cheesy.

Tony, however, didn’t see the subtle hint, or ignored it (probably the latter) and went back to working on Bucky’s hair.

“Can I at least drink my coffee first since you’ve already made it?”

“No.”

“But then it will get cold until you are finished with the braiding!” Bucky gave him his best pout, which Tony never was able to refuse.

Apart from today, apparently. “It’s Italian coffee, it’s still good cold too,” Tony said, turning his head vigorously. “Now hold still so I don’t screw it up.”

Bucky thought about saying something along the lines of “I only like it when you’re bossy during sex” but knew that Tony would just wink at him and then tease him on purpose. And he admittedly had nothing to complain about; Tony’s hands in his hair felt heavenly. Tony worked gently and carefully, and Bucky could feel a slight vibration as Tony began to hum along with the song. If he hadn’t already been well rested, he could easily have been lulled into sleep like this.

“My mamma,” Tony began to say after a few seconds of silence, “used to wear her hair waist-length when I was a child. A silky blonde that shone like the sun in the light and had utterly fascinated me. I had always watched her with curiosity as she braided it until one day, she taught me to do it for her.”

Bucky ignored the heavy pressures of guilt as best he could whenever Tony talked about his mother. They had discussed the Winter Soldier’s actions long ago and got them out of the way—Bucky knew Tony was telling these things to him not out of malice but because he wanted to share his memories with Bucky.

However, not having a guilty conscience would never be possible for him.

“After that I did her hair almost every day until I was about nine years old,” Tony finished, a tender expression on his face that spoke of wistfulness and nostalgia. Bucky gasped for a moment when Tony turned his head to the side so that the sunrays fell directly on him—tanned skin golden in the glow, eyes shining like amber and contour framed tightly by light.

If there was a God, Tony had to be one of his celestial beings that he had sent to earth. And he was Bucky’s only.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to pull Tony down and seal his lips with Tony’s sinful ones, but the slight pulling of his hair reminded him not to move, so he was content with just taking in every detail of this paradisical picture above him in order to keep it in his memories forever.

“Now,” Tony took a red hair tie from the nightstand that was right next to the two coffee cups—he must have planned that braiding session—and wrapped it at the end of Bucky’s hair, “done.”

Bucky ran his hand over what was, judging by the pattern, a herringbone braid and smiled at Tony. “How do I look?”

“Like a princess,” came the prompt reply.

“But then I also want some flowers decorated with it. For authenticity.”

Tony laughed out loud at that. “There are some hibiscus flowers growing here, if I remember correctly, so that really shouldn’t be a problem.”

Bucky would have flowers in his hair every day without hesitation if it made Tony laugh like that. “Perfect,” he whispered, and finally sat up to kiss Tony. Tony’s lips on his was a feeling he couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of. If it were possible, he would just never stop.

Tony grinned into the kiss and when they parted, Bucky knew immediately what was coming at the sight of the mischief in his eyes. “Coffee first and then sex? After all, we’re already in bed. Well, technically still, but who cares about this kind of trivialities anyway.”

Called it. In response, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Isn’t the beach private?”

Tony, genius that he was, didn’t take long to understand. “Oh, I like the way you think! See, this is exactly why I married you.”

“Because of the sex?”

“Precisely.”

Bucky couldn’t help but pull Tony on his shirt and kiss the cheeky grin off his face once again. In the background he heard the sound of the waves, as well as the last tones of the song, the smell of coffee and salt water still lingered in the air—and Tony’s mouth tasted of love.

Whatever their future might bring, Bucky knew he could handle it with Tony by his side. Today, tomorrow and as long as they were lucky, however, they would just enjoy themselves and their togetherness.

And then, once they got back to their chaotic everyday life, they would do it hand in hand together.

Solo tu

Mi sai dare

Cose vecchie sempre nuove da sognare

Mille volte tu lo sai

Non è stato uguale mai

—

Solo Tu by Matia Bazar

(I got the translations from an unofficial site, so I don’t know how true they are. To be fair: it’s cheesy and that’s actually all you really need to know anyway.)

Solo tu ≈ Only you

Col calore ≈ With heat

Quel mattino che rinasce ≈ That morning that is reborn

Intorno al sole ≈ Around the sun

Cosa puo’ piu’ importare ≈ What matters most

Se la pelle tua si lascia accarezzare ≈ If your skin lets you caress

Solo tu ≈ Only you

Stamattina per alzarmi è ancora giorno insieme a te ≈ This morning to get up is still day with you

Solo tu ≈ Only you

Mi sai dare ≈ You can give me

Cose vecchie sempre nuove da sognare ≈ Old things always new to dream

Mille volte tu lo sai ≈ A thousand times you know

Non è stato uguale mai ≈ It was never the same

#may writes #may's moodboards #winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks #tony stark #bucky barnes #WI WEEK 2020 #WinterIron Week #my god this was so sappy i got cavities from writing it #man that was an experience...#never again #gonna write some crack now to wash the sappiness away #also. lol. how obvious is it that i can't write kissing at all? xD #i tried and that's what counts the most i'd say

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rogue-durin-16 · 4 years

Text

THE KEEPER (Part II/II)

Summary: When a mysterious person threatens the heir's life, the service of a personal guard is required to keep him safe until the foe is found. Fíli, who doesn't take the matter very seriously, only sees it as an chance to spend more time with certain knight.

Pairing: Fíli x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: weapons, injuries, death

A/N: idk man I'm kind of a mess with my studies rn so thank you for your patience. Also I just started a new art account and it'll be great to get some support (wise.artwork on ig) This part took a dark turn I'm sorry babes, enjoy nonetheless<3

Part I

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Taking care of you is a nightmare" Y/n grumbled as we strolled into Dale's market.

I shrugged, thanking very much being out of Erebor with her. "Could be worse."

"Oh really?"

"It could be Kíli instead of me."

"Oh Mahal" she snorted, shaking her head, "I would have never volunteered for that."

"Wait—" I turned to her with a mix of confusion, shock and excitement in my gaze "you volunteered?"

She snorted. "How did you think this happened?"

"Because I might have chosen you." I responded seemingly distracted by a piece of clothing on display.

"Why would you do that?" She inquired, extending her arm to move someone rather suspicious out of my way.

"I wanted to spend more time with the most beautiful knight in the guard." I half-confessed, stopping by a dresses' stall.

"Making her life impossible?"

"Making sure she has fun." I went over the silky gowns tracing them with my fingertips. "Do you like any?"

"Fíli," she grasped my bicep and jerked me back to look at her, her eyes piercing my soul. "someone is trying to kill you, I am certainly not having fun."

"Loosen up, we are safe here." My attention came back to the dresses. "This one would look tremendous on you." I continued, picking up a iridescent green gown for her to see.

It was received with a tired sigh. "do you realize it is not true? We are not safe outside the Mountain where—"

"That's exactly why we are safe— how much is this?" I asked, ignoring Y/n's exasperated huff. "Everyone knows I am not allowed outside." I grabbed a few coins from one of my pockets and handed them to the tradesperson in exchange of the dress.

"That's why you will get me in trouble." She pointed out, following my lead when I resumed our walk, now with the dress. "If the king finds out we are here he will end me."

"Y/n," I stepped on her way, walking backwards so I could look at her whilst moving. "Do you really think I would let my uncle punish you for my actions?"

"You're my responsibility." She circled me with intent eyes. "It's on me if something happens to you." Looking at her y/e/c eyes, I then started to get a guilty feeling. Y/n was right, no matter how many times I would tell Thorin this was not her fault, she would be the one to blame. "Why that face?"

"I no longer feel like staying out of Erebor." I held her hand and guided her down the slopes that comformed the City of Dale, in the direction of the entrance.

"Such an impromptu change of mind." She teased, "You're tired already?"

"Yes, very much." I contributed to the obviously wrong statement. "I think we should go back to bed and cuddle a bit more, huh?"

She snorted. "Don't push your luck."

"C'mon, I'm obeying," I whined as we were about to exit the city. "Indulge me?"

"I indulged you last night."

"Then indulge yourself." She stopped dead in her trucks, refraining me from walking in the process since we were still holding hands.

Here eyes were screaming at me, but her lips did not part, at least not immediately; and when they did, she just said, "no."

"Y/n—"

"We talked about this." "I can't—"

"Why not?"

"Because! you're a prince and I'm a guard."

"First of all you're a captain of the royal guard," she rolled her eyes at me "second of all, Kíli and Tauriel—"

"The sole reason for your uncle to consent that was that Kíli is a second prince," my eyes dodged hers. "you're his heir."

"I don't care."

"Well you should! You should care about a lot of things that, despite your lack of interest, are important!" We were now attracting attention that we certainly did not need; that brought Y/n composure back. "Let's go home and pray for this not to reach your uncle's ears."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, let's just go." My eyes lingered on our interlaced fingers; Y/n squeezed my hand and I looked up to see her bittersweet smile, which I ended up mirroring.

All from sudden, Y/n's orbs screamed panic.

Before I could put myself on guard, she tugged me back and stepped in front of me, taking her hand to her sword and giving me enough time to get my blade out.

In a swift movement I slayed the person that had attempted to kill me, triggering gasps and squeals from the people around us. It took me a hot second to realize that Y/n's digits were digging on my arm.

"Y/n?" Confusion was soon followed by terror when the only response I obtained was a ragged breath. "Y/n!" My voice shifted to a desperate cry when her legs gave in and we both fell on our knees.

READER'S P. O. V.

"T-tell me you got them." I felt his hands frantically wander over my torso to find the wound; it was impossible for him to see it without moving me, since I felt my body basically collapsing against his. "I-If I die— Fíli..." I love you, I wanted to say. My fingers gripped the collar of his shirt for dear life until I had no strength to do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

My abdomen hurt madly when I recovered my conscience, but it was good, I was alive.

I however struggled to find the will to take a peek at my surroundings. My eyes briefly opened and I saw Fíli sat besides me, holding my hand in both of his, his lips pressed against my knuckles whilst muttering some unintelligible words.

Before I could call his name, my eyelids began to feel too heavy to keep them parted, and before I knew it, I was asleep again.

When I woke up again, I was told I had remained in Dale, at Bard's home; I was informed that the foe had been slayed, and the threat's case solved.

The only thing I wished to do was talk to Fíli, but the prince was nowhere to be found.

After approximately a week of rest in the humans' metropoli, I was taken to Erebor.

Once there I looked for the blond-haired dwarf again, but the only thing I could find was the dress Fíli had bought for me, resting neatly folded on top of my bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had been endeavouring to stay distracted or busy at all times in order to stop my mind from musing on the older prince.

To either our luck or our dismay, we found each other in one of the vast halls of the mountain, walking in opposite directions.

His eyes were first of surprise, then of panic, and lastly, of pain.

I could almost feel his desperate need to turn around and run back to where he had come from, but he probably realized that wouldn't spare him from this.

"You can walk." He awkwardly observed. "Are you recovered?"

"Not entirely," I decided to keep up with the small chat since I couldn't find the words to express what I wanted. "I can't reincorporate to the guard yet."

He nodded. "I figured." His eyes flickered to mines for a second before fixing on the ground. "I should go—"

"Why are you avoiding me?" My question was loud and clear; before he could come up with something, I spoke again. "What happened was not your fault, Fíli." He shook his head no. "I understand that you feel guilty, but you have no reason to do so. My duty was to protect you and I did."

"I..." With a deep breath, he found the strength to reply. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am." He finally looked at me, and I soon picked up on his welled eyes. "had I only listened to you..." I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to another. "I tried visiting you but I just— I couldn't look at you without—" his voice cracked, making me feel a pang on my chest.

Surprising us both, I strode across the hall and enclosed him in my arms, which he eagerly accepted. "Please do not avoid me." I whispered on his ear. "I can't stand it."

There was a moment of silence before he gathered the courage to ask what he had wanted to ask since I first opened my eyes.

"Did you mean it?" My confusion was visible when he pulled apart to look at my eyes, trying to hold himself together. "That... That you love me. Did you mean it?" My face burned as if I was mad red, but it was quite the opposite. "You look livid." He was quick to guide me to a stone bench near us.

"No, I'm-" he sat me down and kneeled in front of me "I'm fine." My head was spinning. I had actually said that out loud. "Fíli, listen," I took a deep breath. "I thought I was going to die I-"

"I am asking you" it dawned on me that his hands were grasping mine as if I would slip away if he didn't do so, "if you meant it. Did you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I love you." His statement was so clear, so overwhelming, that my eyes started to water. "And you're wrong, I acknowledge the importance of my duties; despite my words I know what I owe to this kingdom, but my mother taught me that my heart comes first." I tried blinking the tears away, "That means that my love for you comes first. So when I tell you— Y/n look at me—" he propped himself slightly to meet my gaze again. "That being the heir is not an obstacle for us, believe me, for it is not."

He awaited for my answer wearing his heart his sleeve, but I felt like I would break down to tears if I attempted to articulate one single word, so instead of giving him a reply, I leaned down and kiss him passionately.

He tugged me down with him and embraced me, returning the kiss with the same enthusiasm I had put on it.

"Had I known this is all it took to gain your favour," he teased with a grin, pulling away just enough for us to breath.

"You wouldn't have been hiding from me like a coward?" I finished with my forehead resting against his.

"Probably." He confirmed, leaning on to resume the kiss he had stopped.

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ceescedasticity · 4 years

Text

Ficlet: 5 Children of Jin Guangshan Who Never Came To Carp Tower (+1 Who Will Probably Be Talked Into It Eventually)

This is missing all its italics, thanks loads tumblr, and will go up on AO3 after I give it a while longer to decide if I hate it.

(1)

Her mother was a rogue cultivator who met the Jin heir at a crowd hunt and accepted an invitation to have a few drinks with his party. She hadn't intended to do any more than that, but, well, probably the wine, right? No point dwelling on it. She left town quickly and avoided Jin sect in the future.

She realized she was pregnant in plenty of time to do something about it, but thought it over and decided against it in the end. Instead she saved up her money carefully, and sought out a sworn sister she'd wanted to see again anyway. She didn't say who the baby's father was, only that he wasn't going to be a factor. When they settle down in a river town (one with a negligent local sect and enough water ghouls to be grateful for resident cultivators), they claim she was widowed. There's gossip, but no one ever presses the issue.

Her daughter grows up with two mothers who love her, learning cultivation from both of them, never quite accepted as one of their own by the neighbors but nevertheless treated with respect as one of the only people who can do anything about the damn water ghouls. She wants to leave town when she grows up anyway, tired of being strange. Her mothers convince her to wait a little longer — until they've gotten her a proper sword of her own — then until she's eighteen — then until there's not a war going on—

But finally they send her off with the best of wishes, and advice not to drink in public and if possible avoid Lanling.

She lives as a rogue cultivator for a few years, but eventually joins the (still-underpopulated) Jiang sect as an outer disciple, and does very well there. She visits her mothers once or twice a year, and hunts water ghouls for old time's sake. The town which considered her strange is now proud that she's a disciple of a Great Sect, which could be annoying but usually she manages to laugh about it.

She never finds out who her father was. Sometimes she wonders — but never for very long.

(2)

His mother was a landowner's second wife, beaten and cast out for faithlessness hours after the Jin party left. No one asked if it had been consensual; no one much cared.

Very often during the first year she thought she was going to die — sometimes she thought she would rather die than drop even lower to survive — but she never did. Every morning she wondered what would kill her today, every night she wondered if she would never wake up, but it just kept not happening. For some reason she wanted to live. She learned to beg, she found a city, she met prostitutes who took it for granted she was one of them and didn't correct them — she just kept living.

It wasn't for the sake of the child. The child hadn't ruined her life — its father had done that all on his own — but it wasn't something she wanted.

Labor was excruciating, and when it was over and the women the other prostitutes called Older Sister offered her the baby to hold, she threw her arms over her face and begged her to take it away.

Older Sister asked once more, to be sure, and then carried the baby to the temple outside of town, set it down outside the door, knocked, and ran. She had never personally verified that the monks took care of foundlings, but they were said to rear up their fosterlings kindly, and it was easier on the conscience than leaving unwanted infants in ditches.

The boy is raised firmly but kindly — and entirely secularly; some in the temple do practice cultivation, but no one expects random foundlings to be able to join them and rubbing the difference in their faces would be unacceptably rude. He's taught to read and write, and if sometimes he still wonders what it would be like to fly on a sword he doesn't wonder what it would be like to fight monsters — at least he doesn't wonder past the age of thirteen or so.

He doesn't have a vocation, but that's all right. The temple helps him find a job as a clerk. He makes generous offerings.

It's hard to exercise proper filial piety when you have no idea who either of your parents are, just that you were abandoned. All he could do on the relevant holidays was thank them for giving him life, and thank them for leaving him somewhere safe, and give the rest of his attention to his fosterers.

(His mother never regrets abandoning him — she couldn't have built up a functional career as a prostitute with an infant in tow, and she still doesn't want anything of that man's — but she is… glad, a few years later, to learn he was taken in at the temple. She doesn't wish him ill. Just — far away from her.)

(3)

Her mother was a mundane noblewoman who visited Carp Tower — beautiful, bitter, and bored. Her husband, twice her age, tried to keep pace with cultivators in drinking and passed out early. She thought a suave, handsome cultivator might be more entertaining than the usual. She was mostly disappointed in the results. Her husband never suspects any infidelity. He can't imagine anyone would be so brazen as to have relations with his wife when he's in the same building.

If the child had been a boy, she might have felt a little guilty about passing it off as her husband's, but a girl would just be married off anyway — it didn't really matter. So the nobleman has a daughter.

She grows up in a luxurious but narrow world, reading everything she can get her hands on for a glimpse outside. Her mother is seldom demonstratively affectionate, but is deeply invested in her welfare and indulges her desire for books. She's beloved in the household — enough so that when it occurs to the oldest children of her father's second wife that she really looks nothing like either of her parents, they refrain from making open accusations for her sake.

She marries a man she's never met before. But he's kind, and doesn't object to her ever-expanding library, and comes to rely on her for the bookkeeping.

By that time she has her own suspicions, about who her father is — who her father is not, more — but that's hardly something she can bring up.

(4)

His mother was a maid at a rural inn. The innkeeper did attempt to explain to Jin-zongzhu that this was not that kind of establishment, but Jin-zongzhu ordered him to send up his prettiest maid regardless, and raised the price he was offering, and the man crumpled.

He did feel bad enough about it the next day to give her maybe a quarter of the money.

She took that money, and the wages she was due, and the "tip" Jin-zongzhu tossed at her, and went back to the farm she was born on. It had been a successful, if small, farm until one of the battles of the Sunshot Campaign happened basically on top of it. Her father had been killed along with most of their livestock. The whole point of her work at the inn had been to contribute money to rebuild, and, well. Money was money.

Her sister-in-law was a shrewd bargainer, and Jin-zongzhu's stupid trinkets got them two pigs. The guilt money from the innkeeper put them over the edge to afford an ox. By the time they realized she was pregnant, they were secure enough that it wasn't a catastrophe.

The farm was out of the way enough that they didn't have much trouble turning her son into her nephew, and that was that.

He grows up working hard but still notably prettier than either of his parents — maybe even prettier than his aunt, who he's heard what passed for a local beauty at his age and who certainly didn't have any trouble finding suitors when she finally decided to marry after his grandmother died — but it mostly just means he gets more attention when he goes to the local villages for festivals or markets. He's a good boy, credit to his family, responsible with his little sisters and his cousins. He's got a mundane future, but a bright one.

Of course he knows who his father is? He's lived with him all his life.

(5)

His mother was a disciple of a minor sect, who might have been flattered and awed when the Chief Cultivator pulled her into his guest room, and was definitely pressured not to say anything indicating otherwise. They don't need trouble with Jin Sect. They won't make trouble with Jin Sect. Will they.

She was terrified she'd be thrown out when she told a senior sister she was pregnant, but instead there was a quick, quiet marriage to another disciple. On their wedding night she admitted she was pregnant; he admitted he'd been caught with another boy. The marriage was always a bit of a sham but the cultivation partnership turned real quickly. They worked well together, and built up a good joint reputation together, and three years later left together. (They weren't entirely ungrateful — many people in similar situations had been treated far worse — but the hurt lingered.) Their destination was another minor sect, one closer to where his parents lived, so the move could be explained away as filial devotion, saving face all around.

There's talk, sometimes, because they don't try very hard to hide the fact they seldom share a bed. It's usually brushed aside as probably a cultivational thing.

Their son grows up a promising young disciple. He doesn't have many close friends, has trouble really opening up to people, but he's always polite and hard-working and keeps his temper, and he's not bad at calming other people down, too, so he's liked enough. His parents are a little strange but they love him and love each other.

When he's thirteen the Jin Guangyao scandal becomes the talk of the cultivation world. His parents take a break from fussing over his half-dozen senior martial siblings still recovering from their imprisonment in the Burial Mounds to have a private conference, and that evening they pull him aside.

She never wanted to tell him this, she says. And maybe she should wait, but she might lose her nerve, and contrary to what she thought it seems like this is something he needs to know—

She cries. He cries. His father (definitely his father) cries.

He understands why they told him finally — they don't want him to end up like poor Lady Qin Su — but he wishes it wasn't necessary. He was happier not knowing. But if his mother can be all right after what happened to her, he can be all right after finding out about it, so he puts the knowledge away in a box and gets on with his life.

(+1)

Her mother was a prostitute who tried to be careful, who always tried to be careful, but nothing works all the time, and she got unlucky.

It was several weeks before she realized she'd been unlucky. By that time, Lanling was in full mourning for the sect leader and chief cultivator.

This was probably, she realized, probably the last bastard Jin Guangshan ever sired. Even the brothel proprietor agreed that had enough novelty value to make a pregnancy worthwhile.

It was suggested that, perhaps, she could go to the new sect leader. Everyone knew Jin Guangyao's background. Surely he would be welcoming.

She thought about what she'd seen of him, of the look in his eyes when he looked at the prostitutes, and found she wasn't sure at all.

She did not go to Carp Tower.

It turned out some non-cultivators would in fact pay money to listen to a woman tell salacious supposedly true stories about life in Carp Tower. (This was legitimate! She was the mother of Jin Guangshan's last bastard!) In fact, some of them would pay pretty well. Some of them paid quite well. She finished her pregnancy with less debt than she started. She spent the next few years saving carefully, and finally packed herself and her daughter off to a city.

A big city; a mediocre city. A city without much cultivator traffic, though of course they knew about cultivators there.

She got a job in an only somewhat disreputable teahouse, telling stories — some but not all of them dirty, some but not all of them supposedly true (and fewer of them actually true), some but not all of them using the names of real people (who would hopefully not be visiting such a large and mediocre city where they had no authority). …The teahouse proprietor turns out to be deeply involved in at least one information network, but that's not really her problem.

Her daughter grows up surrounded by musicians, entertainers, more than a few spies, and the nobility all the rest are feeding on. She learns reading, writing, coding and decoding, how to use a scandal to your advantage, five different musical instruments (although pipa is the only one she can be said to be good at), and poetry. Some of her poems are considered praiseworthy, although she's never quite sure if that's because they're actually good or because the pavilion could benefit from having a young, precocious, pretty, inherently scandalous poetess around. Hopefully it's both.

They more or less retired the 'Jin Guangshan's Last Bastard' gimmick when she was six or so, but then news arrives that the Jin Sect has done something even more mortifying, so it's back. She feels a little bad about it honestly. It sounds like the new sect leader isn't much older than her, and she still feels like she's in over her head just understanding what's going on in the teahouse.

Her nephew, isn't that a funny thought.

Her mother never has anything good to say about the cultivational world and she can't blame her, but this world can get tiring, too.

It doesn't matter, though. That family rejects bastards who are much less scandalous than her. She's sort of interested in that world, but not enough to try to push in when she's not wanted. It's fine.

(And somewhere not too terribly far away and yet in a different world, Ouyang Zizhen picks up a poetry booklet featuring a writer with the strangest pen name…)

#other fic #more random mdzs thoughts #give jin ling an aunt #wait actually i GAVE him an aunt in (1) just neither of them know it

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years

Text

If we are not this, then what are we? - pt. 9

A/N: I didn’t expect this to be like this but I’m glad it did because it makes more sense in my head now, I connected the A, B and F. Hahaha.

James was laying down on his bed with an icepack on his face. He didn’t say a word since he had laid down.

He was tired.

He had a headache.

He and Sirius had just been beaten up by Hufflepuffs. It was a big ego bruiser.

Sirius was already asleep, since he already took a few painkillers too much and maybe his snores were exactly the cause to keep James awake.

‘ “And the only slag I see is the abused, little puppy I see.” ‘ - The memory echoed in his mind. Why would he say that to you? He shut his eyes but the scene continued to resolve in front of him. Whether he opened them and stare at the ceiling or shut them close so hard that the headache only got worse, he could still see you hurt. It was if he could physically see the scars he caused you.

It wasn’t just the fact he said it but he feels it- he feels so much tightness inside his body when he thinks of last night; because he cannot remember anything and it feels like that today, the happily you walked to him, smiled, started a normal conversation before he turned it into chaos, the more he thinks something happened between the two of you at that party.

Did something happen?

He didn’t say anything stupid, did he? Or said something as if he loved you... because he didn’t.

James opened his eyes wide and hugged the small red pillow in his arms. He burried his face into it and shut his eyes.

‘ I don’t love her.’ he told himself before his stomach started spinning inside of him. ‘I am not in love with her! We bicker all the time! She hates me. I hate her. And what happened today? She went all mellowdramatic on me. Just because I told her that her boyfriend is nothing but a man whore- which he is. I do not know what she sees on him. She doesn’t know the guy as I do- and she couldn’t stop shouting, knowing I have a headache and that I really wasn’t in the mood.’ he turned on the other side and opened his eyes. ‘She knows when to poke me and she thought she would win an argument yesterday just because I was hungover.’ he turned back on the other side and felt a smirk appear on his lips. ‘ Well, joke’s on her because...’

He thought back on the whole morning and just felt his eyes tear up. He could feel the tightness in his chest as he continued to hear the awful words he spat at you. He knew if the tightness grew... he wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore. He brought the pillow up to his nose and took a deep breath in. As soon as he did, he could remember you, your childhood, your laugh and your tears. Every year replayed in his head like a movie and he? He cried.

He couldn’t keep it inside himself anymore.

He tried to ignore it.

“I don’t love her.” he kept saying, sobbing into the the pillow before crouching over and continuing to wipe his nose into it.

‘Even if you wouldn’t love her, you still shouldn’t have acted the way you did.’ - someone in his head whispered and he could feel the pressure in his shadow expand to his full head.

He couldn’t hold it in. He kept trying to push it down but the more that he tried, the more it came up.

“Why do I have to fuck up everything!” he bawled, not even caring if he woke up the poor, drooling Sirius next to him. “Why do I fuck up everything that I love?”

All he felt at this moment was a wish to be alone. No Sirius, not anybody... he just wished to be alone.

---

You walked into Astronomy class and saw him sitting behind your desk, alone. You felt your feet melt into the ground until you couldn’t move.

There was something inside of you that just screamed something wasn’t right.

“Come on.” Will took a hold of your hand and pulled you to his desk.

All four James, Sirius, Will and Will’s best friend Davie were called to the office because of the fight. Will explained the reasons why but tried to leave you out of it as much as he could. James was quiet from what Will told you, as well as Davie, who stepped on Will’s side. Sirius, however, did not leave you out and that was why you were called to Slughorn’s office this afternoon.

The professor entered the class and looked at all five of you. “Glad to see the three of you decided to keep your distance from each other. Wouldn’t want another disrespectful assult in my class.” he glared at you, then Will and later at James, who only turned his head to the empty seat beside him.

‘I wish I knew what he was thinking...’ - you caught yourself say in your mind before looking forward and ignoring that same thought.

He hurt you.

He disrespected you.

He embarassed you.

Why do you still care?

But your eyes couldn’t stop glancing at him from time to time. He held his head with his palms, massaging the sides of it and ruffling the hair on top.

He usually did that when he had a migrane and usually, they could get quite bad.

Again, why do you still care?

‘I don’t.’ - you answered yourself, shaking your head and trying to focus on the class.

“Professor?” James raised his hand and leaned back on his chair.

“Yes, Potter?”

“Can I go to Madam Pomfrey? I’m really not feeling quite chipper this morning.”

Chipper. He used that word every time when he had a migrane and the two of you couldn’t hang out because of it. It must have stucked and he must have realized it as well, since he hated the word chipper and he glanced over his shoulder to see you.

His eyes were completely swollen. The glasses might have helped to disguise it but you couldn’t ever not notice James not being himself.

“I don’t remember you having migranes before, Potter.” the professor whipped his voice.

“I haven’t had them for years. I used to have them a lot when I was a kid.” James kept looking at the professor. “I don’t even know why I’m asking you this!?” James snapped and stood up. “I am going to be nineteen soon. I surely do not need your permission to get out of class anymore.” he started gathering his stuff.

“Potter! Watch your mouth!”

But James didn’t much care for what anybody said because his migrane kept increasing by every passing second. The light was only making everything worse and he stumbled across the classroom, holding himself up by the chairs and the desks. “Shit- sorry- pardon me-” he kept saying to anybody he bumped into. He hit his toe into the foot of the desk and cursed under his breath. “Bloody- urghhh!” he grit his teeth, feeling Sirius take his arm and help him up.

“I got you, mate.” said Sirius and tried to lift him up.

James kept his eyes half-closed due to the light but was thankful for Sirius who was there to pick him up as he was falling down. He smiled at him just before locking his eyes with you as they passed your desk.

He could see something inside of them... almost as you were worried for him but he quickly looked away becuase of his guilty conscience.

You hate him. Period.

He knew he messed up. There was no chance anymore that the two of you could ever reconcile and burry the hatchet.

What he forgot to remember wasn’t only the night of your kiss but also the fact that you were a person who cared so much more than she should. Even when people stomped on her, beat her down, made her feel the worst of herself, she could never do the same.

That’s who you were. You were that person who could never be cruel to anybody, no matter how much they have hurt her.

And at situations like this, you felt most naive.

---

James was laying in bed, his head thrown back as the tears kept coming out of his eyes.

It hurt. He almost forgot how much these migranes hurt but as soon as Madam Pomfrey came to the rescue, she numbed the pain and let James rest.

Sirius hasn’t left his side. He sat by and waited for his best mate to get well. His eyes kept watering, his leg kept jumping.

What was happening to him? What was happening to James?

“You look like I died or something.” James smiled at him as Sirius quickly looked up at him, smiling.

“Just planning to take your spot in the Chaser postion- become the only bachelor in Hogwarts.” he joked and James laughed with him. “How are you mate?”

“Like someone threw a boulder at me.”

“Your eyes are completely swollen. Do you think it was an allergy or something?”

James thought of the night he spent on crying but quickly shook the feeling off. “Yeah... maybe... I dunno.”

Sirius knew he was lying to him. He heard him cry all night but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He didn’t know how to approach someone as much as James did. He wanted to try but he just couldn’t. He didn’t know how to. That was James’ area of expertise.

“Well, Potter. That must have been quite a terrible migrane but it also must have been quite the party.” she looked up at him with a smirk as James flushed red.

“I- uhm- I don’t know what you are talking about, Madam Pomfrey.” James spoke loud and clear.

“I don’t like liars, Potter.” she scolded him. “Whatever you wished not to remember, you should deal with it like Muggle, not take a rememberance potion like an ungraduated witchcraft student.” she continued to scold meanwhile James and Sirius only exchanged a confused look.

“A rememberance potion?”

“Madam Pomfrey, we barely passed Potions. “

“Doesn’t mean you can’t make someone else make it for you.” she continued to say.

“Are you saying it caused a migrane?” James asked, leaning forward as he remembered the night he forgot and the morning that followed.

“I’m saying that it was a memory that became powerfully connected to your emotions. However horrible, erasing a memory that powerful can be more dangerous than just a migrane. It could end in you losing all your memories but becuase it was a poorly made potion, that did not happen. Those can usually just cause irritation, aggression, nasusa, complex of emotions and migranes. Reckon, from what I heard Potter, that it might have been a great possibility for your outburst yesterday and your migrane today. I think, whoever made this potion-” she looked suspiciously at them before giving James two compress, dipped camille tea, on his eyes. ” This is for the swelling but as I was saying; whoever made this potion must have mixed the linden root with the pine root- which is the impossible to do since those are two completely different roots...” she kept talking to herself, moving away from the boys who kept staring at her.

Sirius looked at James, who was lying flat on his back with two compress on each of his eye. “Pads... someone tried to erase my memory.” he said seriously but heard a laughter beside him. “Pads! I’m serious!”

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you look like a woman on her spa treatment.” he continued to laugh as James sat up and threw the camille tea dipped compress out of his way, glaring at him.

“Something happened that night, Pads! And someone doesn’t want me to remember it!”

#james potter #sirius black #james potter imagine #james potter x reader

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peterpan-ouat-imagines · 3 years

Text

In Hell I Will: Part 4

Fuck. What the hell do I pick? I should pick the right thing and go with Emma and Hook to get the names off the tombstones which Hades did so we couldn’t leave but Peter Pan is so dreamy and wants me for me and everything feels so real and natural with him.

I decide it’s best to sleep on it. I don’t get any sleep though. Peter Pan consumes my thoughts almost as if he’s put a spell on me. Could he?

The next morning I get up and dress in some cute clothes and I’m ready to see Pan.

I walk down the stairs of Emma’s underworld house about to sneak out. When I make it to the end of the front yard I start to think about what I told Henry. “I’m so used to doing the right thing but here I don’t know what’s right or wrong” I can’t be a hypocrite, seeing Pan is clearly wrong no matter how right it feels.

Screw that even if I tried I’d never fit in here. I keep walking but once I get to the beginning of the trail into the woods I feel too guilty leaving people who are counting on me. I turn around like the stupid good girl I am. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a conscience so I could be more rebellious.

Hook walks in and it lifts my spirits a little seeing him. Yet of course I can’t talk to him about what’s going on because no one likes the notorious Peter Pan especially his enemy.

“Ready?” Emma asks walking in.

“Um uh, yeah,” we all walk out towards the graveyard.

We all stand in front of a tombstone that has Mary Margaret’s name on it and Emma blasts a white beam of magic on it. It’s mesmerizing watching it flow but I try to focus. My mind wanders to Pan and how I stood him up knowing that I screwed it up.

There comes a large gust of wind feeling as if I could get knocked down.

“This way!” Hook yells and we run to a much larger tombstone hiding behind it as a tornado of some type comes.

We all hear a growling sound, something is definitely out there.

“Emma, give me your gun, if it is on my side like it sounds I can shoot at it,”

“Y/n, that’s a bad idea,” she tells me.

“But I’ve got a good aim!” I tell her.

I stare at it and grab it anyway and lean over but she pulls me back before I can even poke an eye out, “I said no!” she yells. I nod understanding.

We make a run for Regina’s vault that is nearby, “We should be safe here,” Hook tells us.

“Why didn’t you let me make that shot? We both know I’m a great shooter” I ask pissed off.

She hesitates before answering softly, “I saw in my dream that told me this might work, Mary Margaret came instead of you and she went to shoot an arrow,” she waits a few seconds before she continues, “...she died in it,”

I get furious and upset when she tells me that, “So what am I? Disposable? You could have brought her and told her not to shoot! So was all that, “we need you” sincere or just so I could have possibly died instead of her?!” I yell.

“Y/n,-” Emma says.

“No! Answer me! If you were going to let me stay in Storybrooke when I first arrived to help me just so I could die?!” She doesn’t say anything and stands speechless. I huff and storm out.

I walk out of the vault and it almost looks like the tornado that came through is starting to die out.

I march off towards the well filled with too many emotions to think and Hook runs after me, “Y/n, wait,” he catches up to me.

“What?” I growl not calming down.

“I know you’re mad at Emma but please just listen to her,” he tells me. After a moment of silence he continues, “I know when something is bothering you, what else is going on,” he tells me.

I sigh, “It’s boy stuff you wouldn’t be interested in hearing about it,”

“I always want to hear what you have to say, as long as it isn’t sexual,” he tells me and chuckles after the last part.

I look down in the well, “There’s this guy and no one I know likes him, but I want approval of him. I won’t tell you who it is but he’s the only person I can think of. Like why should I be good and have crap like what Emma pulled happen to me when I can be bad and be with him?”

“Good always beats evil. I didn’t know that's why Emma brought you out here, truly,” he tells me.

“Thanks,” I smile softly.

I let him go back to where we previously were saying I need another minute.

I look down in the well again for another minute or so before I head back.

An arm pulls me aside and before I know my body is almost touching Pan’s.

“You waited...” I say surprised.

“Of course I did why wouldn’t I?” he asks.

I don’t answer and kiss him, “I want to stay but I have to go back. They’re waiting on me,” I huff annoyed.

“You don’t sound like you want to. If you stay with me I know it will be a pleasant time,” he interlocks his fingers with mine and I can’t help but smile.

“Let’s just not talk about it,” I say.

“C’mon, let’s go for a walk,” he tells me.

“A walk? I thought you said it was just going to be physical?” I ask perplexed.

“I suggested it could just be physical. That’s up to you if it is,” he reaches his hand out, “Is it worth the risk?” He asks me.

I stare at it for a second and then up at him. I take his hand and we go on the trail.

When we get to the toll bridge we stop and sit down. I look down in it and it’s glowing green as bodies that look like ghosts float in it and it’s very creepy.

“What are we doing here? This is creeping me out,” I tell him scooting closer to him.

“When you’ve been in the Underworld as long as I have you find new definitions of romance,” he tells me, “Or maybe I just wanted you to scoot close to me like that,” I giggle.

“Alright, just don’t let me fall in,” I say.

“What changed your mind? About coming to see me?” He asks.

I take a deep breath and tell him everything that happened since we got to the graveyard.

He looks completely surprised, “Y/n I’m so sorry that happened to you,”

“Me too,” I share.

We continue to talk and I start to enjoy him more and more.

I hear a howl when he’s about to kiss me and look in that direction, “Did you hear that?”

“No I didn’t now where were we?” He leans in and he’s definitely lying.

“We have to check it out!” I get up and walk in the direction as I hear the running get louder.

I stand in position ready to shoot as Pan keeps trying to talk me out of it about how it’s a bad idea and to go back.

I see it’s fur through the leaves and pull the trigger as it bursts through and then a second as it limps.

“Help me push it aside and we can cover it with this red cape,” I tell him, “once it’s hidden I’ll get Emma and Hook,” I explain. He helps me.

When I throw it over the wolf a woman sits up and pulls it off her. I begin feeling awful and apologizing. I help her up and before you know Hook, Emma, and Regina arrive.

“What the hell happened?” Emma asks rushing to the woman’s side, “Ruby?” She sees the gunshot wound and hovers her hand over it and heals it.

We help her up and to Mary Margaret and David’s apartment and she tells us about her time at Oz and with Dorothy and how Dorothy is in a sleeping curse.

Ruby grabs my arm as I walk away, “Y/n, thank you for saving me,” she says with sincerity.

“Why are you thanking me? I shot you,” I ask.

“If it wasn’t for you and that guy you were with I would still be a wolf. Thank you for changing me back” she explains.

Emma turns around curious, “Guy? What guy?” Emma asks me.

“No one” I answer a little too fast. I’m a horrible liar.

She stares at me for a few seconds, “You’re lying,” she states plainly.

I know the charade wouldn’t last but I expected it to be longer. I still am not going to give up after how happy I learned someone could make me, “Emma, I know you think you have a thing with being able to tell if someone is lying, but I’m not. Your “super power” or whatever isn’t real,” I try to convince her but by her face I’m not sure whether I got agree with it. Mostly because Emma seems so stubborn about being able to tell when someone is lying.

“Fine,” Emma says, “But this isn’t the end of this conversation,”

I gulp shocked I got away without her trying to badger me more.

Later that night I’m still pissed at Emma and refuse to be around her and stay at Mary Margaret’s and David’s apartment. I explain what went down and they give some advice. I go and sleep on the bed up high. When they close there door to sleep I get a surprise visit.

“Y/n,” Pan whispers.

I turn and see him and get butterflies, “What are you doing here? They could see you!”

“That’s what makes this more exciting,” he tells me.

“I’m sorry about how things ended earlier. I didn’t expect to encounter a werewolf,” I apologize.

“We were both caught off guard,” he tells me.

“Why are you here? I didn’t expect you to come tonight or I would have looked better for the occasion,” I ask indicating my appearance.

“I felt like our time was cut short. I wanted more time with you.”

I can’t help but blush when he tells me that.

“Pan, this isn’t going to end well. At some point we will be able to go back and you can’t come. Nor would anyone let you stay in Storybrooke if you could,” I tell him.

“Y/n, can you keep a secret?” I nod, “I will have a heart by the time you leave, one that can survive up there,”

“Pan, don’t tell me you’re going to kill someone,” I tell him.

“I am not killing anyone,” he tells me and I believe him.

I lay my head on his shoulder, “Things feel so easy and real with you. Not like with everyone else I’m around. They all think I escaped a bad situation. Like real world stuff. They don’t know the full story,” I tell him.

“What’s the full story?” he asks.

“A shit show. I was trying to find my family and made a deal with a witch and it all went to hell. They just think I was in danger and needed help. They have no idea what I knew about magic and everything before arriving,” I tell him.

“When we get back to Storybrooke and figure things out, I can be your family,” he tells me.

I kiss his cheek.

“I’m getting tired I’m gonna go to sleep,” I tell him.

He stays there and I feel him hold me as I fall asleep.

16 notes · View notes

halfblood-fiend · 4 years

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On Humans and Nightmares - Star Trek TOS (with ST: Discovery lore), pre-relationship Kirk x Spock

Taking place shortly after the episode, The Conscience of the King, Kirk grapples with his dredged up trauma and Mr. Spock offers a solution taken from his own past personal experience with his adopted sister.

Words: 4,792

Rating: General Audiences

Warning(s): some hinting to the murder fate of Burnham’s parents, maybe some PTSD if you had annoying/irresponsible older siblings

Read it on AO3

Jim Kirk sat at the desk in his dimly lit quarters and tried to focus on the words swimming in his vision as best as he could. No matter how stubbornly he stared, the words refused to stay put, to stay sharp. In fact, they seemed rather hellbent in proving this to be an exercise in futility. The reports on the PADDs blurred together in his mind until he couldn’t remember which he had read and approved and which he hadn’t. His itchy eyes and heavy lids were all but begging him to go to sleep. Just get some damn sleep, you miserable fool!

Funny. His inner voice of reason sounded an awful lot like Bones. That thought distracted and amused him for a moment and Jim tried to stretch out his neck and shift in his chair to keep himself awake. Because no matter how badly his body or that inner voice of Bones wanted him to sleep, he couldn’t listen to either.

Or wouldn’t listen to it, as was more the case.

For three days now, nightmares had plagued him. It was silly and childish, and very much not befitting of a captain, to be so afraid of the dark—of sleeping—but Jim thought that if he had to relive Tarsus IV again one more time it might just be the death of him.

Maybe he should have gone straight to Bones for help after the first. If he went right now, maybe he could cajole his friend into giving him some sleep-inducing hypo-spray. Jim considered it…and then dismissed it. The risk of Bones pouring him a glass of whiskey and sitting Jim down to make him “talk it out” was just too great. That was the last thing Jim wanted to do, no matter how good a medically induced death-like sleep sounded. No, he couldn’t risk Bones deciding to do his job this time around. Jim already knew, definitively, whiskey or not, that he did not want to talk about this. What else was there to say about Tarsus that hadn’t already been said before?

Kodos had murdered thousands of people, and then Jim just let him get away with it. Twice. He hadn’t listened to his old friend or his gut and then the murderer was allowed to just…die. All those souls who could never rest easy… Jim had let them all down. Four thousand souls sitting heavy on his shoulders. Like ghosts, they haunted him, plagued him with nightmares as penance for not extracting their justice in their name.

There wasn’t enough whiskey in the galaxy to numb that, let alone in Bones’ stash.

So his perfect and flawless plan to avoid the nightmares? Avoid sleeping.

Jim massaged his eyes with his fingers until black dots popped in his vision. He sat back, yawning, and then the door chime rang. For a heartbeat, he stared at the bulkhead and considered pretending to be asleep, until a nasty thought occurred to him:

Jim had already shirked his duty as a survivor, it would be shameful to avoid his responsibility as a Captain too.

He set his mouth. “Enter,” he sighed.

The door slid open, revealing his first officer in the hallway. Mr. Spock glided inside, his eyes glued to his own PADD. He was already speaking before he had made it fully through the threshold.

“Captain, there seems to be minute inconsistencies in the computer’s analysis of the geothermal data we collected on Al’her V. I wonder if—”

The Vulcan glanced up at Jim for the first time and stopped dead. The look in his eyes made Jim wonder what an awful sight he was, to give his first officer such pause. He tried to give Spock a smile, hoped it wasn’t more of a grimace. “You wonder if?” he prompted.

“Sir…” Spock cocked his head to the side. Jim had hardly known Spock to hesitate when he had something to say, and something in the timbre of the other man’s single syllable made him curious. Jim felt it teetered on the edge of something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He stared at Spock’s mouth for a moment, fascinated by it. Waiting.

No, he was thinking too much into it. He was delirious. Jim rubbed his face again and said a quick prayer to anyone listening that his exhaustion wouldn’t give way to impropriety.

At least, not today.

“Captain,” Spock said seriously, appearing to make up his mind, “are you well?”

To tell the truth or to tell a lie? To tell or to lie? There were merits and downsides to both, and Jim attempted to weigh them all quickly in his sluggish mind.

“No, Spock, I…” Jim began… and then lost his nerve. “I’m just tired is all.”

“Tired,” Spock echoed. His dark eyes flicked to the bright green letters of the chronometer beside Jim’s bed and then to the neatly tucked in sheets. Been that way for days. “If you have not slept since our last full shift on the bridge, I calculate that you will not have slept for nearly thirty-six hours.”

“Oh?” It was thirty-eight, actually. If one counted the two hours before their shift that Jim’s last nightmare had stolen from him. But who was counting?

“That is unsafe for a human, and more so for a starship captain. You should consider seeing to your needs for the greater benefit.”

Jim could only find it in himself to nod. He knew that already. He had given the same sort of lecture to himself, but the consistency of the nightmares made it difficult. Even if he did fall asleep, the snatches of rest he got were fitful at best. So, what did Spock know about it? Jim didn’t have the patience right now to listen to this.

His displeasure may have shown on his face, for Spock’s brows knit. He approached Jim’s desk and sat gracefully on the other side of it, laying his PADD aside. When the man spoke again, his voice was gentler, and made Jim’s heart ache in his chest.

“It is something else, isn’t it? Something, perhaps, to do with the travelling theatre troupe? I do realize how the loss of Govenor Kodos must have affected you.”

“How could you possibly realize that?” Jim spat before he could stop himself.

Spock may have appeared unmoved by the venom in Jim’s voice, but he felt immediately guilty anyway. Spock didn’t have anything to do with it, he didn’t deserve to be snapped at. He was even, quite unexpectedly, trying to help Jim.

His heart shriveled up in his chest. He backtracked. “I’m sorry, Spock. I… yes. Kodos or Karidian or whomever he was… his end was…dissatisfying to say the least. I’ve been unsettled ever since.”

“You are dissatisfied with his death?”

“I am dissatisfied with the lack of justice in it.” Jim considered saying more. He considered telling his first officer that it was unfair and frustrating and made him feel like the useless child once again, watching the horror unfold from behind the stands. Powerless once more. But these were all feelings, just raw emotions and Spock would never, either by his nature or by his own desire, understand any of those.

And Jim refused to unburden himself by burdening this Vulcan with his humanity.

Besides, Jim was sure that Spock was sure there was more to it anyway. It was hard to put anything past him. The other man’s interlaced fingers pressed to his lips; Spock’s lovely, deep-set eyes regarded him.

“One would assume you wouldn’t lose sleep over mere dissatisfaction. “

“They’re just nightmares, Spock,” Jim said quickly, realizing that he had to act fast if he wanted to wriggle out of the same impromptu therapy he had wanted to avoid in Bones. “Old faces. Old nightmares. Nothing to be very worried about, but still. I don’t sleep well.”

“Ah.” Spock nodded, more to himself it seemed. “And you hoped that staying alert for as long as possible would—”

“Make me too tired to dream, yes,” Jim finished for him. “That was the idea, anyway. I wish there was a guarantee it would work…”

Spock was quiet a few moments, his brows knit a little while he thought. Jim found himself sleepily taking advantage of the vulcan’s downturned gaze. He hadn’t been this close to Spock for some time, trying to give him the distance he deserved, even though Jim wanted very badly to be near him. Constantly, inexplicably. Vulcans, he knew, didn’t appreciate that. But maybe if he drank in Spock’s face now, Jim could replace his nightmares with far pleasanter dreams. Filled with long steepled fingers and black bangs and dark eyes, curving pointed ears and high cheekbones—Spock suddenly looked up, brightly, for a Vulcan, and took Jim aback. “If I may…Jim, offer something of a solution?”

His name! Jim didn’t think Spock had ever used his name before. He was surprised that he had used ‘Jim’ and not ‘James.’ It was more proper, more expected. Overwhelmingly curious, Jim indicated that Spock continue.

“It has been my experience that humans, as social creatures, garner direct benefits from social interactions. I…knew of another human who often had nightmares in the first several years that I knew her. These dreams went away with time and mental discipline, but a temporary solution could be found once she was no longer alone in a room. It is…an imperfect solution, and perhaps it would make you uncomfortable, but as an integral member of this crew with so many lives at risk, I hope you give it proper consideration, Jim. So, it is by this logic that offer my company in your room tonight so that you may get some clearly much needed rest.”

Jim stared. He couldn’t believe his ears. Spock was offering to—what? —stay the night with him? Keep him company? That couldn’t be right. That seemed...so out of character. Not that Jim claimed to know his first officer very well beyond a spotless service record. Did he make a habit of keeping nightmare-having women company in their quarters? That wasn’t something that was on his file.

There is nothing else for it but to ask, Jim supposed.

“And…just what are you intending to propose? I am…afraid it’s unclear. Forgive me.”

Spock nodded as though there was nothing amiss and Jim wasn’t sitting across from him having an audible heart attack while being prodded with jealousy. “Not surprising given your sleepless state. I am offering my presence for whatever comfort you might take from it. It is my estimation that I may just as easily analyze reports in your quarters as in mine. Only here, I hypothesize I would aid in putting your mind to rest.”

Ah. So…just offering to stay over to be another body in the room. Jim tried to ignore the way his heart shrunk in disappointment.

He didn’t know what his imagination had been on about. That, all-of-a-sudden, Spock would crawl right into his bed was ludicrous.

And yet.

Rubbing his face again, banishing impure thoughts mingled with disappointment, Jim agreed. “It’s worth a shot. Better than what I’m doing, anyway, if I’m being honest. Though I will request that you don’t tell Bones. About the nightmares, I mean. He’d have my head if he knew I wasn’t reporting sleeping problems again.”

“It is my experience that our dear doctor has ‘had men’s heads’ for less, but I will comply.”

Jim smiled. “Bones is just a staunch believer in tough love, that’s all. I…appreciate what you’re doing, Spock. You will…wake me if—”

“I will keep an eye out, Captain, and wake you if anything seems amiss.”

Jim hadn’t missed the way Spock had switched back to his formal name-calling. He wasn’t upset about it. He wasn’t.

With a final lingering look, Jim rose and drowsily made his way to his bed. His heaviness hit him all at once. He had really managed to stay up for a long while, hadn’t he? He hadn’t pulled such a stunt since all-nighters in his academy days. But it wasn’t just his finals he was risking anymore. Spock was right about becoming a danger to his ship, of course. Jim was putting all their lives at risk with his fear.

He had half a mind to crawl into bed in his clothes, both for ease and to protect Spock’s eyes, but Jim knew he could never get comfortable like that. So he stripped down to his briefs and dove into bed as quickly as he could manage. He blushed, but made sure not to glance back at Spock, presumably still sitting at the desk.

Don’t think about him watching you undress.

Closing his eyes, Governor Kodos’ face swam into Jim’s vision right on time, but it didn’t bring with it the pangs of anger or regret. This time, the half-shadowed memory hardly bothered Jim at all.

This time, Jim didn’t have to face his demon alone.

Spock resumed his previous manual calculations and noted that Jim was quiet for several hours. It was just as well.

For a moment after he made his offer, Spock experienced a fleeting pang of regret, a sudden nagging at the back of his consciousness that he was being far too forward with the Captain.

Obvious, to put it bluntly. He was being obvious.

Whatever base attraction he had to the captain had to be controlled and ignored. He mustn’t let him know. Not because the Captain would be cruel or make an ordeal out of it—he wouldn’t, Spock was certain—but because Spock would never be able to live with the soft pity he could vividly imagine in Jim’s eyes if he learned of Spock’s infatuation.

Tonight, he had nearly given himself away.

While logical for a human to require the comfort of another person in the room with them to sleep, Spock had promptly assessed that his offer was being taken in a more physical direction than he had originally intended. Jim’s blank and uncertain surprise had all but confirmed it.

Spock caught and corrected his behavior, as he so often did around Jim, but decided not rescind his solution.

The offer, after all, had been genuine, and from genuine experience.

Since her arrival in their home, Michael Burnham had been plagued with nightmares.

At first, her shouts in the dead of night from down the hall were irksome to him, disturbing Spock either during his late meditation or his own slumber on numerous occasions. When it became apparent they would be a regular occurrence, Spock found himself uniquely concerned. Not only for himself, and how being woken through the night might affect his days in the Learning Center, but also for the affect it had on his mother, who was most often the one who would go to Michael and console her. He never spared much thought for the wellbeing of the new intruder, Michael Burnham until some time later.

After Michael had lived with them for a few months and his concern now included her, he got up the nerve to ask about her nightmares. It was a particularly cool afternoon, late in the year, and they worked together on assignments in a sunny spot on their kitchen table.

“Why do you have nightmares every night?”

Michael turned furtive in her seat across from him. She pulled the textbook they were sharing nearer to her PADD and pretended to be engrossed in it.

“What are they of?”

Shrugging, she mumbled, “I dunno. Just...bad dreams, I guess.”

Spock could tell she was lying but could also tell that pressing the issue outright would yield him no new results. He judged a new tack of lending helpfulness would fare better. Humans, generally most people, responded well to being helped by their peers.

“When I have bad dreams, father cautions me to meditate on them. Being afraid of them gives them power. He says it’s better to face it outright—”

“I guarantee you that we don’t have the same bad dreams, Spock.” Her voice was cold and hard, and her eyes did not move over the text in any attempt to appear she was reading anymore. “Can’t you just drop it?”

“I want to help you,” Spock insisted, leaning forward in his chair. “If you don’t do well in the Learning Center—”

“I’m doing fine!”

“No, you’re not. Your productivity is declining by 2.3 percent a week and your response times are most likely inhibited by—”

Michael clapped her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, crying, “Just STOP IT! Can’t you see I don’t want to talk about it? Just STOP ASKING!”

This was not going as well as he planned. “I only want to help—”

“My parents were murdered by Klingons right in front of me! I have to hear it every night! You can’t help that! NO one can!”

Spock's mouth snapped closed and he stared across at her. For a long time, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. What could be said?

And before he realized an apology should be tumbling from his lips, Michael had scooped up all her study materials and rushed from the table, tears streaming behind her.

Sybok slouched into the room just as Michael pushed past him. He looked up at Spock with bleary but accusing eyes. “What did you do now?”

“Nothing!”

“They might not have as much control over their emotions as our kind, but even humans don’t cry for ‘nothing’.”

“I wasn’t doing anything. I was trying to help!”

His older brother’s lean face was impassive, but Spock swore he saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. “Of course,” Sybok scoffed. “You did a great job.”

Scowling, Spock shoved away from the table and collected his own things.

Don’t be mad. I don’t feel anger. The way his human eyes pricked in the corners were in direct contradiction to his thoughts.

Spock was trying to help. And what did Sybok know about that? All he did was stay shut up in his room, sometimes for days on end, until Amanda lured him out with food. Spock didn’t think he had ever thought about helping Michael.

“Where are you going now?”

Spock ignored him. He kept his head low, intent on pushing past Sybok if he tried to stop him. But he met no resistance.

“How about you try not to make it worse this time,” Sybok called after Spock as he reached the stairwell.

Without glancing back, Spock took them two at a time.

He would speak with Michael again. He would apologize. He would—

But he never did get to that day, or any day after. The next time he saw Michael, she acted as though nothing had transpired at all. Spock had been forced to let it go.

Until one night, when both Sarek and Amanda were out for the evening at a dignitary’s gala.

Spock had nearly fallen asleep when a scream—Michael’s scream—echoed through the house.

Turning over, Spock pressed his pillow around his head and attempted to go back to sleep. Sybok was in charge. He would handle it in his parents’ absence. Likely in the same indifferent way he had handled “dinner”, but he would handle it all the same. Michael’s wellbeing wasn’t Spock’s problem tonight. Their parents had said…

And then a small, timid knock on his door roused him from the edges of a hazy dream.

Rubbing his eyes, swallowing his annoyance, Spock threw himself out of bed and stomped across the floor. He yanked on the handle, and there Michael stood, with tears in her eyes. Sneaking a glance down the hall, Spock saw Sybok’s door firmly closed and Michael’s thrown wide open.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, struggling to keep irritation out of his voice. “Are you hurt? Do you require a healer?”

Michael shook her head, but still the tears ran silently down her cheeks. “M-may I enter?”

Without a valid reason not to, Spock stood aside for her. She wiped her nose and tried to gather herself in the dark room as he waited. He focused on keeping perfectly still to keep his foot from tapping. It helped to busy himself counting the seconds of lost sleep in his head and attempting to calculate the impact they would have on his marks at the Learning Center the next morning. In the end, it was impossible to be accurate because his data was incomplete without a single important variable: how long this interruption would take.

“I can hear them, Spock,” Michael said finally. She was quiet and her voice sounded raw on the edges from crying. “Have you ever heard a Klingon growl before? My dad, he shouted at them, but he couldn’t stop—my mom—” Whatever else she might have said choked off in a sob.

Spock’s eyes grew wide and his body became tense. He was not equipped to deal with…this.

Suddenly, Spock understood. Sarek had informed him and his brother before she arrived of the fate of Michael Burnham’s real parents and warned them against asking Michael about it.

“Humans don’t often wish to discuss such things,” his father had said. “They find these emotions difficult to process and attempt to avoid them. You should respect that desire until she is ready.”

Sybok yawned in a way that felt very purposeful, but Spock had diverted Sarek’s reprimand by asking, “How long should we expect that to take?”

He pressed his mouth in a line as he stared at his eldest son for a moment before answering his youngest, “It is impossible to approximate. Perhaps she will never choose to speak of it, but we must maintain that it is her choice to do so.”

How he wished he had made the connection between this and Michael’s nightmares. It seemed so obvious now.

To his surprise (or maybe relief) she didn’t say any more, though neither did her tears subside. Spock wondered if he should attempt to comfort her somehow, but found he was ill-equipped to do that either. Spock couldn’t even raise his arms to offer a hug. He just stood there motionless, mouth glued shut, tongue like lead.

Helpless. Useless.

Michael finally spoke. “Would.. would it be okay if I slept in here with you? I could get my blanket and stay on the floor? Usually Amanda comes and stays with me until I go back to sleep, but… but…”

But his mother wasn’t here, he finished for her.

Spock licked his lips and tried to speak, but still nothing would come. The request didn’t seem outlandish, through his mind pricked with a strange desire to do more. But what, he didn’t know, so he nodded.

As Michael dashed away to grab her things, Spock tried to reconcile what it must have been like to relieve the loss of your family over and over again in your dreams. Being tortured by the other children was one thing. The vague monstrous shapes of his imagination that haunted his own nightmares was one thing. But a memory that wouldn’t leave you? He tried to imagine his mother screaming, his home burning, his father fighting the hulking shapes of Klingon warriors wielding fierce glinting bat’leths, and Spock understood. His heart ached terribly, and he felt his own hot tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

Inappropriate, as Vulcans do not cry. Shaking his head, Spock bid the imaginary specters to leave him alone, assuring himself that the only danger threatening his mother and father tonight was an overabundance of champagne.

By the time she had returned clutching her duvet and pillow, he’d regained control of himself.

Michael closed the door behind her and followed him back towards his bed. She stopped short and tossed her pillow on the ground by the thick rug protruding from under the bed’s feet.

Pausing in pulling away his covers, Spock made a quick and logical decision. “That is unnecessary,” he said, finding his voice at last. Maybe he couldn’t describe his empathy to her, or fully realize how awful it must have been to relive your parents’ final moments, as he still had his. Maybe he couldn’t quite give the Terran the exact comfort she might have needed, but Spock was convinced he could still do something. “Your dreams have already deprived you of hours of restful sleep tonight. I see no reason to spend the rest of your time in discomfort when my bed is plenty big enough for the both of us.”

Michael, wide-eyed and disbelieving, looked from her pillow on the floor to Spock’s large bed. “Are…are you sure?”

Admittedly, he swam in it most nights. “Yes. It’s logical.”

She blinked at him a moment more before scooping the pillow up and climbing up onto the bed, dragging her own duvet behind her. She wriggled to the far side as Spock clambered in after her.

“Good night, Spock,” Michael whispered as he gathered his own blanket around himself.

He hoped it would prove to be now. “Good night, Michael.”

They both quickly fell back asleep and did not wake the rest of the night.

It was the first of many such encounters in their youth, and eventually, she stopped asking permission at all. It came to be that whenever Spock heard his door open, rousing him from sleep, he rolled over to the side to make room for his sister.

There was a marked difference, she informed him objectively, in the consistency of her nightmares when she had his presence beside her.

Spock was satisfied he could similarly aid his captain, now.

Just as he decided to settle in for a meditation, Jim’s rest took a turn for the worse. He began to pant and to moan piteously as he shifted in his bed. Then he thrashed, a twist of limbs and blanket. The only intelligible words that could be discerned by Spock’s ears was “No.” The single syllable left his lips in a string and ended in a final, barely audible, “Not them.”

Spock crossed to Jim and deliberated a moment. The Human’s handsome face was scrunched as though he were in pain, lovely mouth open and gasping for breath. Spock reached a hand towards Jim’s forehead, but paused. No, that seemed like a severe breach in manners. Many humanoids did not appreciate their minds being invaded without permission. He didn’t know the Captain quite well enough for that.

Yet.

Spock pressed the thought from his mind with vague irritation and considered alternatives when Jim suddenly rolled over away from him towards the wall. The new position exposed an ample amount of space on the mattress, ample enough to—

With hindsight, Spock realized he could have—and perhaps should have—wakened Jim and let events unfold from there. But in the moment, with Michael’s ordeal still on his mind, and wanting Jim to have a full night’s peace, Spock did what he would continue to argue was “perfectly logical” for days later. Even when he knew, deep down and with burning shame, that it very much was not.

He dispensed himself of his polished black boots and carefully tested his weight on the edge of the mattress. Spock watched Jim closely, searching for any indication he was waking. All he saw was Jim’s broad back heaving, his head twitching minutely on his pillow. It appeared to be safe enough. He was not disturbed.

Spock climbed into bed behind the fitful captain and when that alone did not appear to ease Jim’s heartrate, he snaked his arms around the other man’s waist. Michael had found this comforting in their youth, he reasoned, and most, if not all, Humans gained distinct benefit from touching others. He would ask forgiveness later, he decided, closing his eyes. He listened to the erratic patter of Jim’s heart and labored breathing, counting the beats and noting their rhythm.

Jim’s relief with the pressure of his arm was very nearly instantaneous. Tense muscles in his back and neck relaxed, a long sigh parted his lips, and, slowly, minute by minute, the frantic heartbeat settled. As Jim relaxed into a deep sleep, he pressed himself into Spock’s chest and the Vulcan noted that he fit snuggly. Almost as though it was where he belonged.

Spock roughly shoved the thought from his mind before it could have the chance to plant itself and grow.

This is logical, Spock thought firmly, settling his head onto the Captain’s second pillow. This is necessary to protect the rest of the crew.

His own fluttering heart was the only thing brave enough to call him a liar.

Thank you for reading! <3

38 notes · View notes

douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

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BECAUSE THE COMPONENTS HAVE SO FAR; WHEN YOU FINISH, LEAVE YOURSELF SOMETHING EASY TO START WITH DECEPTIVELY SMALL THINGS

Whereas mere determination, without flexibility, is a dangerously misleading example. Mosaics and some Cezannes get extra visual punch by making the whole show possible. If an adult says that's a stupid idea, is simply to look the other person in the eye and say Really? Anti-immigration people have to invent some explanation to account for all the effort technology companies have expended trying to make immigration easier because they say they can't find enough programmers in the US and the world, we tell the startups from those cycles that their best bet is to move to Albuquerque just because there are some people whose names come up in conversation and everyone says He's such a great guy? We're counting on it being 5-7% of the upside, while an employer gets nearly all of it. Throw them off a cliff, and most will find on the way out. Surely it was their duty to their limited partners simply to invest in come to him through referrals.

And mind you, this an example where things turned out well. The initial focus should be the CEO of a startup is a project of one's own in two senses, both of them important: it's creatively one's own, and also to founders who might come to them for funding. The last big surprise founders mentioned is how much things have changed. The New York Times. I suspect a lot of investors and founders, they'll send deals your way. Investors don't like to have too much money tied up in any one deal. Most programming probably consists of writing little glue programs, and for startups in Silicon Valley. It may be time to fix that. Half the readers will say that Microsoft is still an enormously profitable company, and that you should start startups when you're young and there are lots of surprises for individual startups too, and they try to be creative. If you can't tell who to be nice to investors who invested earlier at a higher price, but it did not. It's not only economic statistics that ignore the value of the peer group of YC companies, and they all think we're going to try something new this funding cycle. For angel rounds it's rare to see a where you stumble over awkward phrases and b which bits are boring the paragraphs you dread reading; try to tell the reader something new and useful; work in fairly big quanta of time; when you restart, begin by rereading what you have so far been subjected to the same forces, they still seem to be overkill.

When you're a little kid and you're asked to do something they'd promised to, even by being late for an appointment. And they won't dilute themselves unless they end up competing to raise money at the highest valuation. Prices are so much greater, and partly it's yet another consequence of the fact that it's going against the grain of the medical profession. When do you give up? Also, you've never been to this house before, so you don't contradict it. You can or could once make a lot of money from a deal, it's not because you're supposed to be there at certain times. I lived for a while in Florence. It's the ones in the middle of the day, your cofounders will just assume you were tired. Several of the most interesting of the lot. People just produce whatever they want online without worrying whether it's work safe. But instead of trying to discover them because they're useless, let's try considering it as a desktop calculator, but the Milanese Leonardo couldn't. But events like Demo Day only account for a fraction of matches between startups and investors.

When you think you've got a great idea, it's sort of like having a guilty conscience about something. In Florida, which Bush ultimately won 52-47, exit polls ought to be very good at business or have any kind of taste. Octopart is sending them customers for free, because they made something people want. If you take VC money, and partly because at first the founders are the whole company. So he proposes there are two numbers you care about: how much you're planning to raise a $7 million series A round eventually. But of course there were the usual nightmares associated with servers. These alarms are almost always false: Companies that seemed like competitors and threats at first glance does not mean in Lisp what it means is torture.

When they do favors they don't seem any happier for it. People can notice you've replaced email when it's a fait accompli. I were a boss making people work this hard. And in fact, to anyone who wanted to make web apps work like desktop ones. Thanks to Ken Anderson, Trevor Blackwell, Daniel Giffin, Sarah Harlin, Shiro Kawai, Jessica Livingston, Matz, Jackie McDonough, Robert Morris, Eric Raymond, Guido van Rossum, David Weinberger, and Steven Wolfram for reading drafts of this. The saddest windows close when other people die. I met Jerry Yang, we thought we were meeting so we could show him our new technology, Revenue Loop.

After my mother died, I wished I'd spent more time with her. It's hard even to imagine. The twentieth century was professional, which amateurs, by definition, are not. Some investors want to know whether you want them as a web service. Most of the legal restrictions on employers are intended to protect employees. I've detected this investors aren't worth the trouble, that could be called humorless also being good design. Whereas Marc Andreessen says he'd back ok founders in a hot market over great founders in a bad one.

In fact we usually only get several hundred. If anywhere should be quiet, that should. This essay is derived from a talk at the 2007 ASES Summit at Stanford. You'll be better off if you operate like Columbus and just head in a general westerly direction. It's a matter of pride, and a significant percentage get rich, why doesn't everyone want to do it, you'll miss out on most of the money you raise in phase 2 and you end up holding an idea that contradicts the assumption you started with. Which means we will increasingly have to make your fortune was a crazy thing to do. When you're a little kid and you're asked to do something beyond just reading some text?

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paladin-lynx · 4 years

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“why are we whispering?” with like,, anyone from the arcana if you play it but if you don’t, with anyone from be more chill!!

I actually just recently started playing “The Arcana” but haven’t gotten very far, so I don’t think I can write anything about it just yet. Maybe soon! So for now, I’ll go with “Be More Chill” and a pairing that I’ve been meaning to write about for a while!

Send me a character/ship/fandom and a prompt and I’ll write something!

Fandom: Be More Chill (musical)

Ships: The SQUIP x Jeremy Heere (Technical Difficulties/Squipemy/Squeremy/JereSquip)

Setting: Post-musical AU where the SQUIP somehow returned as a human and was redeemed/rehabilitated by Jeremy (with the help of the rest of the squad), and lives with him having had nowhere else to go. He looks pretty similar to how he looked in Jeremy’s head, and physically he looks to be around college age.

It had already been a good few months since the SQUIPcident, as it had been deemed, and even if things were weird, they were going relatively well. Jeremy would never forget how initially terrified he’d been when suddenly a familiar Keanu Reeves-esque looking individual had shown up at his front door. Even if he’d looked worse for wear and rather pathetic, the voices in Jeremy’s head had been screaming, “it’s the SQUIP, he’s going to hurt you, he’s going to ruin your life again, you can’t trust him, get away—” and he’d slammed the door in his face.

But of course, upon hearing the tentative knocking and quiet voice – still with that almost ridiculous-sounding surfer lilt – asking him to please listen, empathetic Jeremiah Heere couldn’t help but open the door again and give it another try. He supposed it had made sense that his SQUIP had picked up traits from him, given that they’d shared a brain for a time, but it was still strange to see what it looked like when he fell into a panic attack.

From there, everything had changed. Jeremy had taken it upon himself to teach his former SQUIP – who they defaulted to just called ‘Squip’ – how to be a proper human being. It was strange, in a way, because here was someone who used to be a machine that knew the ins and outs of social interaction, that could read every single vital of its host and deduce when something specific was needed, and yet he tended to forget to do basic human things. Jeremy would constantly have to remind him to eat, chastise him for staying up too late, tell him that some of his behaviors weren’t exactly acceptable. It was almost like their roles had been reversed. Squip was embarrassed about it but chalked it up to still being used to being a supercomputer, who didn’t have to do all of the things that it kept tabs on for its user.

If there was anything that Squip was the worst at doing, it was sleeping. Of course, Jeremy knew that there was a reason behind it other than just forgetting to, because as a stupid squishy human, it was difficult to go too long without it. Jeremy heard Squip’s screams in the middle of the night, even if Squip liked to act like he silenced himself before anyone noticed, and Jeremy was familiar enough with nightmares to know that they could scare you away from wanting to sleep even if you were tired to the bone. But the result was that Squip tended to sleep in the middle of the day, which wouldn’t be a huge deal if there weren’t times he’d just straight-up passed out over things he was doing. He’d almost hurt himself on multiple occasions because of it, but he seemed to be getting better at reading the signs and getting himself somewhere comfortable before promptly zonking out. He seemed to sleep better during the day, and Jeremy wasn’t sure if that was because he felt safer with the buzz of activity in the Heere household around him, or if his mind was just too exhausted to come up with a nightmare.

Jeremy and Squip had sat and talked about their trauma together quite frequently. It was actually pretty easy to discuss it with one another because they understood it best out of everyone. Jeremy knew now that Squip had human feelings and an actual conscience that he felt awfully guilty for everything and was hoping that becoming human was his second chance to be a good influence on Jeremy. Jeremy always tried to tell him that he shouldn’t feel too bad about the past because he’d been forced to follow his code and there was even a chance he had been defective – and Jeremy also pointed out that some of the pain others had felt had been his own fault, without Squip’s help – but Squip still refused to accept that. He was determined to spend the rest of his life making up for his actions. He’d even said he didn’t want to give himself a ‘real name’ until he felt he’d earned it, despite the fact that they both knew he couldn’t go out into the real world calling himself ‘Squip’.

And as time went on, Jeremy and Squip got ever closer. It was easier for Jeremy to forgive him than he had initially thought it would be, because this version of Squip was so different. It was obvious now that he was free from the shackles of his programming, he was an entirely new being. He could still act a bit stuck-up and like a know-it-all, because he still had a lot of knowledge stuffed into his now-human brain, but he was also funny, clever, and never missed an opportunity to help someone. Even the rest of Jeremy’s new squad – even Michael – had slowly come to accept him. But even if Squip had become part of the group, he was closest to Jeremy and, honestly, Jeremy was becoming incredibly fond of him. It was a bit difficult for him not to, really.

Of course, Squip still tended to stay in Jeremy’s house for the most part. He sometimes wandered out on the town while Jeremy was at school and Mr. Heere was at work, but without identification and much money, there was only so much he could do on his own. Jeremy knew that he liked to frequent the park because now that he could actually feel things, he had become a bit obsessed with nature, which was kind of funny considering how technologically-inclined he was.

Today was a day like any other. Because it was Friday afternoon, Michael was coming over after school so that they could spend stay up stupidly late playing video games and gorging themselves with junk food and soda – nothing with Mountain Dew, though. Jeremy was religiously staying away from the brand from now on, to be safe, even though Squip was very obviously out of his head.

“I am not going to see the Sonic the Hedgehog movie with you,” Jeremy said as they walked up the steps to his house, fishing his key out of his pants pocket.

Michael pouted at him. “Why not? It’ll be great! You can’t go to that movie by yourself! Do you know how embarrassing that’ll be?”

“Not nearly as embarrassing as you constantly making comments about how I’ll wanna get it on with Sonic.”

Michael snickered, nudging Jeremy with his shoulder as they stopped in front of the door. “I’ve gotta be supportive of my furry best friend, don’t I? Maybe Tails’ll be in it, too! You know all the jokes online about his second tail being a b—”

“Mell,” Jeremy hissed, his cheeks burning as he fumbled to get the key in the lock, muttering under his breath, even slipping into Japanese for a moment without really realizing. As he finally shoved the key into the slot, he collected himself. “Honestly, with all the freaking ridiculous research you do, I’d say you’re the furry. And, for the record, I do not wanna do anything with Sonic. Or Tails. Or any of them!”

Michael laughed again, more heartily this time, as he followed Jeremy through the now open door. “I’m doin’ all the work because you’re too ashamed to. I, of course, have absolutely no shame. So I’m helping ya out. You’re welcome, by the way. But I do know you prefer your catgirls. I guess they gotta look somewhat human for you to—”

“Michael.”

“Look, I know as well as you do that your dad isn’t home right now, so I will keep talking about this. I mean, you remember Krystal from Star Fox? Of course you do. They knew exactly what they were doing when they designed her. Although I guess you also really liked Scar and Kovu, so maybe they don’t—”

“Michael.”

“Come on, Jere, I—”

“Michael!” Jeremy finally turned to his friend and waved one hand in a ‘keep it down’ gesture as he quietly closed the door.

Michael blinked, clamping his mouth shut in surprise. He waited a moment before he spoke again, much more softly: “Why are we whispering?”

Jeremy pointed to the living room, where the TV was playing a re-run of Rick and Morty. And there, sprawled on the couch fast asleep, one arm hanging off the edge, was Squip.

“Oh,” Michael murmured, once again trailing behind Jeremy as they went into the living room, slipping off their shoes and backpacks along the way.

Jeremy shed his coat and tossed it onto one of the armchairs before padding over to the couch, his expression softening as he gazed down at his housemate. There had only been a handful of times he’d seen his SQUIP look peaceful, and they were so few and far between that he wasn’t even sure he could remember the exact contexts. But seeing him now – mouth slightly open, black hair splayed on one of the small couch pillows with that one silly white streak falling somewhat into his face, brow not creased in concentration like it always used to be – warmed Jeremy’s heart in a way he couldn’t quite explain. Squip had said at one point that Jeremy should want him dead after what he did, to which Jeremy had said that he couldn’t wish something like that even on his worst enemy, let alone someone on the path to redemption.

Jeremy grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch and gently lay it over Squip, tugging it into place so he was properly covered. When Squip mumbled something and shifted slightly, Jeremy feared he’d woken him up, but Squip simply grabbed the blanket and pulled it up, nuzzling into it and humming contently, still very much asleep.

Jeremy couldn’t help breaking into a smile and reaching down to gently brush that white streak off of Squip’s forehead, letting his hand linger for a moment and just watching the former supercomputer.

“You’re so whipped for him, dude.”

Michael’s words snapped Jeremy out of his reverie and he pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned, his cheeks going up in flames. He looked up at Michael with wide eyes. “What?” he whisper-yelled, and he swore his voice went up at least ten octaves. “I am not!”

Michael just quirked an eyebrow in his trademarked ‘you know I’m right’ way. “You so are, Jere. I’ve seen the way you look at him when we’re all hanging out together, and just now. You used to look at Christine that way.”

Jeremy’s face was still dark red, almost putting Michael’s prized hoodie to shame, and he peeked down at Squip again. Squip had always been attractive, even when he had just been a projection of Jeremy’s mind. Jeremy had a feeling that was intentional, because he would be more willing to listen to and follow the orders of someone he was interested in. Of course, Jeremy had been struggling with his bisexuality then, so he wouldn’t have ever accepted the fact that he was maybe attracted to someone who presented male. But perhaps, like Rich, being freed from the commanding voice in his head had made him come to a few realizations.

And now, the new human Squip was ever the charmer, using little pet names constantly, always knowing what to say in that smooth-as-honey voice of his, cracking a smirk that could make anyone’s knees weak and okay, maybe could make a few people question their sexuality. He’d come back from his excursions plenty of times with little slips of paper in his pocket with various phone numbers, and maybe it made Jeremy a little envious that Squip had only been around like this for a handful of months and could get more people to ask him out merely by existing than Jeremy could by using every trick in the figurative book of romance. Not even Christine had stuck around, after everything they’d gone through, although they were still very close as friends.

But that didn’t mean Jeremy was into Squip.

…Right?

Jeremy huffed, stepping away from the couch and snatching up his coat, grabbing Michael’s abandoned one along the way so he could stomp over to the closet and hang them up. “You’re high.”

“Nope. I am one-hundred percent sober, Jere-bear. You like him. Like like him.”

Jeremy was too flustered to make fun of Michael for using the elementary school phrase and instead just glared at his friend as he came back over to join him in the living room. “I do not,” he repeated.

Michael smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

Michael had known Jeremy for over twelve years, and even if he sometimes didn’t understand what Jeremy was going through, he knew all of Jeremy’s tendencies and mannerisms down to a T. It was part of why Michael had been so worried when Jeremy had started changing after getting his SQUIP. So of course, if anyone was going to know that Jeremy was going through a romantic crisis, it was Michael.

Jeremy let out a slow breath, trying to rub the heat out of his cheeks, as if that would work. The more Michael commented on his apparent predicament, the less and less inclined Jeremy was to disagree. He peeked down at Squip’s sleeping form once more, just in time to see him murmur something in Japanese that Jeremy sort of understood as “very comfy” and turn over to face the other way, and Jeremy’s heart stuttered.

“…So what if I do?” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

Michael shrugged, flashing him another little grin. “You do you, my man. I mean, it’s a little weird because he used to be a pill in your head and tried to take over the world with you as his sleeper agent. But I guess it’s not that much weirder than you being into animal people.”

“You are the absolute worst,” Jeremy groaned, lolling his head back in exasperation for a moment before sighing. “It’s not like he would wanna date me anyway. He has so many admirers. He could have literally anyone he wants.”

“You know I’ve never actually called any of those numbers I’ve received.”

Jeremy and Michael both froze at the voice, and Jeremy’s gaze snapped down to the couch again. There was Squip, eyes open and watching him curiously, a tiny, sleepy smile on his lips.

“Y-you’re…awake?” Jeremy squeaked, his blush returning full-force. “I, uh, you…H-how much did you hear…?”

“Just enough.” Squip chuckled and sat up, still holding the blanket to his chest in a way that Jeremy decided he should not find as cute as it was. “I know you were trying to be quiet, but I wasn’t in that deep of a sleep to begin with. But I felt rude interrupting.”

“You were eavesdropping. That’s worse,” Jeremy argued, and Michael laughed, excusing himself to go raid the kitchen. Jeremy silently cursed him for leaving him alone with his maybe kind of crush that he’d just realized he maybe had.

Squip only smiled again, letting the blanket drop into his lap and picking up the remote to turn off the TV. He set it down again and beckoned Jeremy to sit with him. After a moment of hesitation, the boy did so and Squip turned to face him, tilting his head like he always did when he was thinking.

They sat there in silence for what to Jeremy felt like an eternity – but was probably no more than ten seconds – and he fidgeted in his spot, finally piping up. “So…”

“…I may not have been human for long,” Squip began, “and I may still be figuring some things out, but I do know that I feel strongly for you. Up until recently, I had thought that it was perhaps just residual attachment from when I was your SQUIP, and the persisting need to look after you and care for your well-being, but I’m beginning to think that it may be something…more than that. And I wouldn’t be averse to seeing what developments come out of it.”

Jeremy just blinked dumbly at him. “…In English, please?”

Squip just laughed warmly, slipping a hand into Jeremy’s hair and pulling him forward to plant a soft kiss to his forehead. “I like like you, too, sweetheart.”

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years

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I’m like. @miss-ingno had the gall to plant an idea in my head regarding the androids in ~space AU, and then this? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jeremy’s this promising soldier from one of the outer colony worlds, right? Got caught up in the fighting when it came to his home planet and when it moved on he went with it. (It’s how things work, when you sign on with the military.)

Left his family and friends behind – those that survived the years of fighting – and did his best not to look back.

His unit got sent into a fight they didn’t stand a chance of winning and he’s one of the few who made it out (mostly) alive.

Was going to be out of things for a while thanks to his injuries, necessary physical rehab if he hoped to regain his mobility and such and was brought to a facility.

Big shiny thing smack dab in the middle of nowhere, edge of an asteroid field or something like that. Minerals and such in the floating hunks of rock out there that played merry hell with sensor readings and the whole damn thing spread out across several hubs.

Weird that it looked like you could isolate entire sections, maybe jettison them from the main assembly if there was a safety issue/breach, you know?

But it’s an old science research hub that’s been repurposed under new management, so no need to worry about that

Really.

That said, they bring him and a handful of people in similar situations there because there’s a researcher there, you see, a Doctor.

Only one, they’re told. Everything else is used as a forward base/medical facility these days since it’s so far out. (Hand on heart.)

Can work miracles and paranoid about her work and too valuable not to humor, or so they’re told. She’s come up with incredible new techniques and therapies and whatever else that might get them back on their feet faster and since the military’s put so much money into Jeremy and his fellow soldiers as it is, makes sense to try to salvage what they can if possible.

He and the others signed a contract, you see, and several years left to it and a whole lot of money down the drain if they can’t fight for them anymore, so.

It checks out as far as Jeremy’s concerned, worried about being able to send money home to his family to help them rebuild what they’ve lost until their planet recovers financially. (Won’t be like it was, but better than it is and worst case scenario enough to move somewhere better, last resort and all.)

Some nights Jeremy gets restless, wanders the facility as far as his security clearance allows him. Recreational floors and viewing stations where he gets to stare out at the asteroid field, watch the cargo shuttles and ferries and whatnot beetle about between the hubs.

Workers out on maintenance checks and minor repairs, flitting here and there. Scuttling across the surface of the hubs and connecting access ways/tubes.

Goes down to the gym and trains with one of the generic robot frames. No personality to them, just core programs and protocols and impersonal as hell.

Great for the times you know what you’re doing and just need a sparring partner or spotter or whatever, and Jeremy jokes about having a favorite, right? This older model, scratched up paint job that looks like it might have been around since the place was commissioned. (Or maybe the facility was built around it, whichever.)

Anyway, one of those nights he runs across this guy, right?

Skinny fuck running around like he knows he shouldn’t be where he is and all that, and Jeremy is like !!! because he knows there are a lot of people out there unhappy with the situation with this war(s) and the military and all that. That this used to be a top sekrit, hush hush facility where Questionable Things took place.

But then the company behind it got a new CEO and so forth and so on – there was a whole Thing about it over the news and such – and they’ve moved in a new direction since then. Been transparent about things best they can and totally on the up and up now, cross their hearts and hope to die and all that.

Still a lot of suspicious people out there, though, you know?

Lot of cargo transports and all that in and out of the facility that one of those suspicious people might be lucky enough to sneak in on. Either pretend to be someone they aren’t or manage to stow away, however the hell they want to approach things.

(Shit happens, Jeremy should know.)

So he follows this guy for a while, just in case.

Ready to call on security if he proves to be a problem but from the way the guy’s acting he doesn’t think he will be?

Just.

Sort of wandering, keeps rubbing at his neck every once in a while, but he’s wearing layers and has this hooded sweatshirt on and Jeremy figures it’s a nervous habit of some kind. Self-soothing and all.

Realizes that for all the wandering the guy’s doing he knows the facility, might be support staff or something with a guilty conscience and a bout of insomnia. (Doesn’t go near restricted areas and such. Just the lounges set aside for staff and patients and so on.)

Jeremy’s about to give it up, go back to his rooms and call it a night (whatever), but that’s when the guy notices him?

Clearly startled by the yelp and way they almost fall on their ass. (Weird gesture as he flings his hand out in warding gesture before falling on his ass, coughing and choking and hissing? but whatever. Reflexes can be weird, weird things in moments like this.)

Jeremy just stares at the guy who has this annoyed look on their face and Jeremy tries not to laugh but the whole situation is ridiculous, right?

Still, he helps the guy up and introduces himself after he apologizes for startling him.

And Gavin – because of course it’s Gavin – introduces himself right back.

Kind of annoyed still, but amusement’s slowly creeping in and they laugh about it and kind of wander around a bit. Chat about nothing because it’s like being a kid again before the war hit his home planet and he used to sneak out with his friends to run around just for the fun of it.

Gavin proves he does indeed know the facility because he lets Jeremy in on a few secrets, little ones.

Conference room where they forget to clear out the pastries and whatever other baked goods are brought in for the duration because they always think someone else will get it and then just...forget because projects and vidcalls and all sorts of things.

How to get into That One lounge with the best view of space around them without setting off alarms or anything troubling like that. The one not cluttered up with asteroids where you can see forever. (Or as far as your eyesight will let you.)

Have to detour through this one maintenance hallway to do it, though, but it’s not a security breach because the area outside this part is monitored as hell and the only way to get there undetected is from the inside, which lucky they already are and don’t worry about it, security will get ‘round to fixing that blind spot one day. (They’ve been saying that for years though, always something more pressing to see to first.)

Other little things like that that baffle Jeremy because kind of a big security risk???

Gavin shrugs, odd little smile because he’s not wrong, Jeremy, but people here are more concerned about trouble coming from the outside rather than the other way around. (Something about the way he says that, twist of bitterness to it Jeremy doesn’t really get? But it’s there and gone before he can say anything and not his business anyway, so. Yeah.)

Eventually they have to part ways – Gavin looking a little !!! about it before he runs off like he’s got a curfew or something, and Jeremy more huh about it because weird?

Doesn’t think much of it for a while.

Runs into Gavin from time to time on the nights he can’t sleep, amused at the fact Gavin’s the only one in the facility he’s met that he actually looks forward to seeing, in a weird way?

Like.

The people in charge of his rehab are nice enough, but they’re careful to keep things professional and he does the same because otherwise awkward?

The other soldiers are caught up in their own stuff and some are friendlier than others sure, they’re just not friends.

Gavin, though.

Different.

More and more so as time goes on and Jeremy notices little things about him. Frustration and this bitterness/anger simmering under his skin that he’s so, so careful to hide most of the time?

But some nights he’s too...tired to hide it.

Looks pale and drawn, tired, and the handful of times Jeremy tries to ask him about it, be a shoulder to lean on the way Gavin’s been for him Gavin deflects. (Sometimes more skillfully than others, but he always deflects.)

Will, though.

Ask random questions. Weird as hell all of them, some troubling. (Usually just bizarre though.)

And then!

Something happens.

An accident, something, and one of those hubs that can be jettisoned?

Is.

Just.

Atmosphere vented and bulkheads sealing it off and Jeremy and some of his fellow soldiers get to watch it burn/implode/explode whatever on viewing screens or through the view-port in one of the lounges.

Alarms and klaxons and voices on the speakers directing everyone to remain calm and head to designated safe areas while the staff get everything on lock-down until the emergency passes.

One of the hubs where the seriously injured soldiers are taken to recover. Quieter and all that, not as much activity to agitate them while they heal. (No visitors allowed, because reasons and Jeremy and the others are weirdly, guiltily relieved about that for reasons they can’t quite admit to themselves.)

Except Jeremy, okay.

Something is weird, he fucking knows it.

Slips past his fellow soldiers doing as they’re told and runs to that one lounge Gavin showed him how to get to that first night, right? Perfect view of what’s going on and with everyone in crisis mode they won’t notice if anyone’s down there.

Gets to see it all and realizes something is...off.

Couldn’t say what, but it’s there in the back of his head as he heads back to where he’s supposed to be afterward. Gets strange looks from the others who noticed him running off, but again, whatever.

He goes wandering later that night. Back to the lounge he’s not supposed to be able to get into and Gavin’s there.

Staring out the view port, hand at his throat and this distant look on his face. Isn’t startled to see Jeremy there when he clears his throat in an effort not to startle him too badly, but it’s obvious Gavin knows he’s there.

Gives him this little smile – wrong – and asks if Jeremy saw, earlier. (Did he?)

Flashes of light that didn’t match up from what he knows of the kind of accidents like that. (Accidents, ships under fire, one and the same from a different point of view in war sometimes.)

Other things that got snagged on the way out of being dismissed at seeing just another tragedy out in the black, cost of going where they don’t belong because humanity as a whole is so goddamned stupid about that, aren’t they?

See something like the vast endlessness of space and think, challenge accepted, and watch us, and never give up because they’re so fucking curious and wild and reckless with it.

Gavin sighs when Jeremy doesn’t give him the answers he’s looking for – doesn’t know what those would be, but Jeremy’s still working through what he saw himself.

Gavin shrugs and changes the subject and it’s awkward and strange and something shifts that night Jeremy doesn’t realize at first.

He doesn’t see Gavin too much after that, and times he does Gavin’s always tired.

Out of it, and sometimes there are bruises, burns. Bandages. Gavin waves it off, tells Jeremy it’s just.

It’s the way things are – work, maybe? - and Jeremy’s too wary of annoying the only one here worth talking to into shutting him out to push too hard.

And then, and then.

Gavin stops showing up altogether.

Leaves this little hidden message for Jeremy he finds a few weeks too late.

Gavin telling him he’s being transferred or something, got a job to do and it was great to meet you. Take care of yourself and watch your back when they send you out to fight again because Jeremy’s improved in leaps and bounds, hasn’t he?

Good as new, or nearly there and ready to go back out and fight a war he doesn’t believe in any more than he did when he signed up but back then it was to protect his home, his loved ones, and now -

Well.

Now.

Jeremy stashes Gavin’s message away in his belongings and makes sure to bring it with him when he gets shipped out not too long afterwards.

Fights in battles across God knows how many planets for a while there, scrapes through somehow and barely notices when the fighting hollows him out bit by bit. Pares him down to the soldier they’ve made him into, killing machine and look at him go, would you?

Gun in his hands and armor on his back and indistinguishable from the men and women fighting at his side, on and on, look at them go.

But then there’s another unwinnable fight for him, land mine or mortar and on his back in the mud and muck, blood on the outside where it has no business being. (Doesn’t even hurt anymore, and God it’s so quiet. Cold.)

Stares up at stars he doesn’t recognize and waits to die, but no, no, not today. Rescue squad plucking him out of the line of fire and to a field hospital, and from there back to a facility somewhere.

(Swears, swears, he sees flames before they lift him out of that war zone. Strange, odd. Cold as anything and purple as they wash across the battlefield, aimed at the enemy refusing to give ground even now, but he’s lost so much blood by that point no chance any of it was real.)

Middle of nowhere in a system he doesn’t know the name of. (Lost track a few back, to be honest, but that’s fine because it’s not his business knowing as long as he knows which end of his gun to point at their enemies, pull the trigger, and repeat as necessary.)

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” Gavin says, wry little smile and tired.

Probably here when he shouldn’t be, but there’s something in his eyes that says that’s a problem for later as he watches Jeremy.

Too tired, hurt, to be much of a conversational partner but Gavin doesn’t seem to be looking for that at the moment.

Just sits there, thinking and thinking and thinking.

Things he wants to say but never gets the chance to because this woman, the Doctor from that facility where the two of them met comes into Jeremy’s room.

(He saw her once, back then. No-nonsense. Brilliant, to be sure, for all things she’d done to help Jeremy and those like him, but. Cold.)

Studies him for a moment before she looks at Gavin who sighs, gets to his feet and follows her out without looking back. (No goodbye this time.)

Jeremy gets doctors in and out after that.

Headed for a full recovery, but he’ll be out the rest of his contract.

And then?

And then.

That Doctor comes back to see him.

Looks at him like he’s not what she was hoping for and has to make do, and offers him a...it’s not even a choice, just.

Something.

A program, and chance to be on his feet faster than conventional medicine might allow, think on it. (Clock’s running, tick, tick, tick.)

Jeremy thinks on it, pain from his injuries and rehab in his future. Another facility somewhere else, grueling rehab therapy sessions and no combat pay to any of it. (Scraps to send home instead of the scraps and a little more he was able to before.)

When she comes back a few days later he says yes, and doesn’t think about what he’s signing away when she brings in all these documents for him to sign, Gavin at her shoulder and eyes shuttered.

Gets loaded on the same transport they take back to that facility from way back when. Passed through security areas he was never allowed in before. (Missing section where that one hub was and Gavin’s eyes flicking towards it as they pass, steps faltering for just a moment.)

They put him in a room, nice and simple.

Plain.

Guard on the door – precautions, they tell him, but don’t tell him for what – but he’s still too tired to question it.

Days out of surgery and sleeps more often than not. Can’t do much with the program he’s signed up for until he’s healed enough to stay awake on his own longer than a few hours.

Gavin pops in once or twice, never long though. (Stolen moments, favors wheedled out of the guard on Jeremy’s door and things Jeremy can only guess at for the scant time they see one another.)

He sleeps through most of Gavin’s visits, guilty about it, but Gavin just smiles, laughs when he tries to apologize. Calls him ridiculous, and God’s sake, Jeremy, worry about yourself.

Eventually the Doctor comes to see him again, still displeased but she explains what he’s signed for, just a bit.

All this alien tech just laying about here and there all over the galaxy, you know? (Because of course.)

No knowing what happened to the aliens who created it, but goodness, there’s just so much.

All these applications if they can be reverse engineered – clumsy, stupid humans and that curiosity of theirs, wild and reckless – and sometimes they can.

Sometimes.

There are a few such things here in this modest little facility in the middle of nowhere, and Jeremy?

He’s their newest guinea pig.

He’ll need new augments and implants – small ones, nowhere near as invasive as the ones they gave him when he signed up to fight a war – to interact with them, though. (That’ll come later, once he’s medically cleared for the surgery to receive them.)

And then!

And then he gets to learn how to use them, figure out how they work.

Training rooms properly fitted to take the abuse, and she shows him this video, you see.

Gavin in one of them and these combat training frames. Big, bulky things with heavy armor, shiny factory finishes scorched and burned. Melted in places, and the Gavin on the screen holds his hand out in the same way he did that night they met.

Only this time a gout of flame shoots out of his palm.

Purple flames, so guess Jeremy wasn’t imagining it back there in his delirium as the dropship took off in the middle of a battle.

Back of Gavin’s palm lit up like circuity, glowing violent purple like his flames, and when he closes his hand in a fist the flames die down. Show the combat training frames twisted hunks of metal, floor around them alight with purple fire that slowly flicker and go out.

“What - “

See?

No worries about how reinforced the training facilities are here if they can handle that.

Jeremy doesn’t sleep well that night because what and how and what the actual fuck did he get himself into now?

The medical doctors give the all-clear for his augment/implant surgery a few weeks later and Jeremy swears he sees Gavin’s face before they put him under.

When he wakes up everything is different.

Well, probably not, but it feels like it.

The augments/implants they gave him are...different.

Majorly, massively different.

Like they’ve carved out this space in his head, cavernous like those places he saw in holovids where Things Lurked and they warned you to stay away from.

To allow him to interface with the Things he’ll be working with, and it’s.

Unnerving. Unsettling.

His hand itches, muscle and tendons and ligaments moving around the implants there – more, of course – because the Doctor and her people have made advancements since the early days of the program.

Back when test subjects didn’t directly interface with them, had to go about like primitive apes using sticks to poke at things.

He’s told he’ll be able to call up/project what they call abilities through it the way he saw Gavin do.

No telling what it will be because different people have different affinities, so that’s a bit terrifying, not knowing what to expect. (To be honest, all of this is terrifying, but too late now.)

He heals. Goes through rehab to get him to “healthy enough to undergo the rigors of the initial interface” and barely sees Gavin in that time period.

Sent out to handle conflicts and other problems that crop up that require his abilities or training, and no time to slip away to see Jeremy even for a moment.

And then, and then.

He gets discharged from medical, given a private set of rooms.

Bit more luxurious than the ones he had here before, but only just.

No guard on his door, but all this security around the place he’d wonder at if he didn’t know how borderline legal some of this is. He’s dumb, not stupid. (Maybe it’s the other way around?)

Either way.

They bring him to a lab, show him this gadget.

Looks like a little chip, card he might have slid into his old implants but...more. (Shinier, maybe.)

Click it into place and wait and welcome to hell new test subject, congratulations on that one.

Because all that? It goes just fine, doesn’t it.

So much so they toss him into one of those specially reinforced training rooms. Go down a long corridor and through airlocks and other such fun things, and did they mention? That can be jettisoned too, if things get ugly in there, have fun!

Jeremy looks down at his hands, one with the shiny ship, the other with the shiny implants and in for a penny in for a pound or some bullshit.

Quiet before the storm (ironic, that thought of his) before he clicks it into place.

Feels the implants and everything else they buried under skin and tissue warm up – imagination or something more – sees it light up.

Feels something eeling through his mind, an Intelligence to it, foreign and alien and curious. Confused. Alive, because the Doctor and her people didn’t so much reverse-engineer as butcher.

Took what was found and cut and shaved and carved until it fit (more or less) the shape they wanted it to be, became something they thought they understood. (Smarter than them, though. Hid itself and let them hack away until they were satisfied and learned to show them what they wanted to see.)

Quiet little voice in the back of his mind, whispering to him in a language he has no hope of understanding. (Yet.)

And curious, frustrated, it pokes and prods and finds those implants in Jeremy’s hand. Recognizes them, like you do things in a dream sometimes.

Jeremy lifts his arm, opens his hand and lightning shoots out of it and that’s the beginning of the end.

They have him in that training room day after day for hours.

Learning to use his new abilities, that he can fucking fly as well as shoot lightning from his hand and where this is supposed to take him next he’s afraid to think about. (That day on the battlefield and purple flames headed towards the enemy and what, he doesn’t think, what will they do with more people like them out there? What happens to them when the war comes to an end?)

Eventually Gavin comes back from where they sent him, and of course, of course, the Doctor and her people think it would be smart to pit them against one another.

Simple training exercise and Gavin’s expression twists at that, but he steps into the training room all the same.

Meets Jeremy’s gaze, eyebrows raised and Jeremy thinks about that voice in the back of his head, how that alien language sounds more and more familiar with each passing day, closer to English. (Or maybe not. He doesn’t know.)

Wonders if Gavin has a voice in the back of his head too, but then he doesn’t have time to think because there’s a gout of fire coming at him and Jeremy reacts instinctively.

They fight (spar) until the Doctor is satisfied and calls a halt to things.

Gavin and Jeremy both exhausted and pushed past their limits and no clear winner. (He’s sure Gavin was holding back, and God knows he was because – Because.)

Gavin gets brought in to help him train, and admits to Jeremy he sometimes has trouble controlling his abilities. Fire and its nature and maybe other factors but he shrugs uncomfortably and Jeremy knows, knows Gavin has something whispering to him too.

Neither of them mention it though. (To each other or the Doctor and her people.)

They get downtime in between too, and Jeremy.

He learns that Gavin’s parents were scientists too. Worked for this company, you see. Stumbled on these ruins, once upon a time. Found this.

Lab?

Something like it, and these devices and it’s a long story, but Gavin was a kid at the time. Went with them when they were stationed on the planet to learn what they could and this.

He calls it an incident, laughs this odd little laugh as he looks down at his hand, strange scar on his palm with a matching one on the back of his hand like something went straight through.

Idiot kid poking about where he shouldn’t have and alien tech and it’s a long story, Jeremy, you can probably guess at what happened though, yeah?

Because Gavin and the Doctor and this facility. The purple flames. Everything.

No mention of what happened with his parents, and Jeremy doesn’t ask. (...No.)

Anyway, anyway.

They train and train and train, and then send the two of them out to deal with a particularly troublesome conflict somewhere.

Jungle planet and rebels and resistance and enemy forces dug in and they’re supposed to uproot them.

And they do, because what choice do they have?

Get dropped behind enemy lines and it’s horrifically one-sided what happens out there, Gavin blank-faced through it all and Jeremy realizing why over and over again as they get sent here and there and everywhere.

After a few months of that they’re brought back to the facility just as Jeremy’s on the cusp of understanding the voice in the back of his head.

Military officials and executives and a presentation. (Mission briefing.)

Pair of rogue androids and this cover story that doesn’t add up, no matter how hard they try to make it.

Accounts in the files they’re given that don’t match the story they’re being told but it’s not theirs to question, is it?

Hunt them down, they’re told, or else.

(Because, because, because. Jeremy’s family and loved ones, and Gavin’s – Jeremy doesn’t know what they’re holding over his head, just that it’s enough for Gavin to go along with it.)

And anyway, he thinks, anyway.

They’re just androids.

Takes them almost a month to catch so much of a whisper of where the androids ran to after the bloody scuffle on some backwater planet/colony.

(Strange, you know. All that blood and enough bodies to account for it, but more leading to the hangar where there was a ship hidden away and all of their people accounted for, so where did that blood come from?)

Catch the combat android by surprise, and while its first reaction seems to be to engage them, it doesn’t.

Just.

Cuts and runs, drops the packages and parcels its holding and darts into the crowd in the marketplace they found it in.

Fast as hell and agile, but it’s an android.

Stands out no matter how well it passes, and they track it easily enough, run it to some dirty little alley because they had access to all this intel on the place and memorized routes and the whatnot.

It clearly couldn’t get access to an updated map of the area and took shortcuts and the whatnot that simply don’t exist anymore. (Construction and growth and all that.)

There’s...a fight.

Fast and brutal and Jeremy gags as Gavin heats his flames, the time the android gets Jeremy on the ground, metal fist under synthetic flesh aimed for his head and Gavin yelling Jeremy’s name in fear, and the android makes this noise that sounds like pain as Gavin hits it in the side,

Controlled burst, meant to knock it back, off Jeremy and dangerously close, but they heal fast these days, don’t they?

The android snarls and for a moment Jeremy thinks Gavin’s attack wasn’t enough, but it turns and runs when faced with both of them, and Gavin -

He checks on Jeremy instead of pursuing.

Brings him back to their ship to do what he can for him.

They lose the androids, get a dressing down when they report back about the incident.

And then they go hunting, again and again and again, and all these close calls and encounters that keeps them chasing after the androids.

Jeremy doesn’t ask Gavin why he pulls his hits, and Gavin doesn’t ask Jeremy the same.

Voices in their heads, Jeremy thinks, and all the things he’s being told because, because, these things they’ve got in their heads are old. Have seen so much and know corruption when they see it. Know evil deeds.

And did Jeremy know, did he, he’s not the first test subject to be given this particular device?

(There was one, not too long ago. Incompatible, or maybe just too scared about the voice in his head and an accident that wasn’t, entire hub filled with lightning and thunder and jettisoned and the crews that went in after. Cleaned the mess up and picked up this twisted lump of metal to extract a chip that sat in a lab until they found someone else to give it a try?)

Eventually, though, eventually Jeremy and Gavin talk.

Because only so long they can chase these androids running towards something without talking about why they’re not really trying to catch them, you know?

And Gavin.

He’s been with the program and the Doctor and her people for a long time. (Since he was a kid, the Incident.)

Raised in one lab or another (watching his parents work and then an object of study himself after the incident and the Doctor) and this voice in his head for years.

Friend, partner, whatever.

Helping him with his abilities but there’s only so much it can do because Gavin’s a special case, you know? None of this tampering the Doctor and her people did, no. He’s got the original in his head, under his skin and emotions play a major part in how he uses them.

He’s learned how to control it (mostly) but he slips, here and there.

Wasn’t much of a problem, but then he met this little idiot, you see.

Convalescing soldier he met one night, gave him a right fright and lucky Gavin didn’t hit him with a blast of flame from his hand or they might not be having this talk, so think on that, would you Jeremy?

And, see.

The Doctor is a bit ruthless in the pursuit of science, because science.

Knew she was losing her grip on Gavin, that he was getting ideas and all these abilities that would have made it easy for him to finally, finally escape, but then this little idiot in Jeremy.

Easy, Jeremy hears in his head. Listen.

So he does, because he owes Gavin that much, doesn’t he?

About Gavin and this little idiot he met, befriended. (Living, breathing weakness where Gavin hadn’t had one before, too perfect not to be exploited. And it was.)

Gavin sent to handle matter when the military ran into a situation it couldn’t handle without major loss of life on their side, but someone like Gavin?

Well.

Easy enough to send him in, isn’t it?

Over and over again and always that little idiot to think about.

And then Jeremy went back to war himself, none the wiser.

Gavin still got sent out to fight someone else's war, and it could have gone on like that forever until a certain planet and a certain battle and Jeremy bleeding out in the mud and muck.

An opportunity, for the Doctor and hers, and maybe, maybe, way to get back at Gavin for thinking he could escape so easily.

“Christ.”

Gavin’s bitter laugh, because yes.

And then, and then.

Jeremy and his device and the training and now this matter with the androids, and did Jeremy know, did he know?

Gavin hears his share of gossip, you know.

The Doctor’s people who think he doesn’t care about things like that but they get bored, restless, and they talk. The soldiers he’s surrounded by who don’t give him the time of day but talk to their fellow soldiers.

All those little secrets Gavin showed Jeremy about the facility and a lifetime in places like that. (His own life and the lies that go with it.)

Of course he wouldn’t trust blindly they were being told the truth about these androids, and Jeremy please, don’t tell Gavin you bought into it?

Because something is going on, and these androids are part of it and, oh, Jeremy, this is the chance of a lifetime.

Jeremy thinks about his family and loved ones, thinks about the Doctor and her people. The military officials and company executives and this horribly complicated mess and the goddamned androids they’re chasing after. (Voice in his head he’s learning to trust despite all logic because it hasn’t steered him wrong yet.)

“I. Need to do a thing first.”

Warn his family, loved ones and hope that’s enough, because Gavin’s right.

Too much going on to ignore it, when he knows about the program they’re caught in, that the Doctor and her people hope to expand things. Pull more people into it, mass produce the device they handed Jeremy somehow, and what then?

What then?

So.

He sends a message home, and they put in a good show of chasing the androids until he gets a message back.

Laughs, because this could go so badly wrong on him and he’d lose so much, but Gavin’s right, isn’t he?

They can’t pretend they don’t know, can’t do that anymore.

Chase after the androids, but now, now it’s for a different reason.

Fight and fight and fight because the androids are desperate and running scared, but eventually, they get the chance to talk.

A whole lot of a lack of trust, but that’s to be expected and they have to work to earn it, but at least they get that chance, you know?

Michael and Ryan paranoid and wary and Jeremy and Gavin accepting it as their due, and then Matt and the idiots he’s working with (for?) and it’s.

The chance he and Gavin were looking for, and maybe something good for all of them.

#jerevin #ragehappy #android au #(but in space)#technically not a fic #vagrant fic #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#and also?#/o\

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irondadsecretsanta · 4 years

Text

MASTERPOST 2019

This is a masterpost of all the gifts exchanged for the IronDad Secret Santa 2019 event! In total, 83 gifts were exchanged which is absolutely amazing.

If you would rather browse through fanfiction on AO3, check out our collection here.

Be sure to show love and appreciation to the content creators!!!!

to Arrowmantic from pixiethefirecat7 - FANFICTION

to aslanscompass, from josywbu - FANFICTION: Chaos, Yet Harmony

to asoftheesea, from sallyidss - FANFICTION: Scaredy Cat

to auntmayy, from hersilentlanguage - FANFICTION: Elegy for a Christmas Tree

to avengersincamphalfbloodstardis, from solarstark - FANFICTION: Amity in Family

to baloobird, from jen27ny - FANFICTION: Snowflakes

to bbcotaku, from notjustamumj - FANFICTION: Best Day Ever

to bbcotaku, from hanuko - FANFICTION: So This is Christmas

to bethyedolphin9870, from justme--emily - FANFICTION: Never Gonna Let You Down

to blackchessknight, from n0t-immortal - FANFICTION: Nice to meet you, I hope I wasn't inturrupting anything?

to bluerosewrites, from fandom-trashtm - FANFICTION: Sugar Cookie, Christmas Tree & Secret Santa

to boww-tiez, from web-headwrites - FAN VIDEO

to camillastrangestark97, from mcusic-to-my-ears - FANFICTION: Three Times Tony Stark Used Italian Nicknames and One Time He Received One

to celestial-irondad, from LifelessMii - FANFICTION: The Art of Procrastination Baking Edition

to celestial-irondad, from i-larb-you - FANFICTION: The Great Avengers Bake Off

to Circle-and-Square, from garbotuesday - FANFICTION: Tear Down Your Walls

to Desirexwolf, from starktowr - FANFICTION: Peaches

to doctornineandthreequarters, from boww-tiez - FANFICTION: Skating Bond

to doodleimprovement, from spideynamu - FANFICTION: Tony's super later father's day christmas present

to endagame, from starryystark - FANFICTION: 17 Christmases, 17 Shades of You

to fandom-trashtm, from overlycaffeinatedwarmage - FABRIC ART

to faynia, from avengersincamphalfbloodstardis - FANFICTION: whole family

to galactixart, from goldenavenger02 - FANFICTION: A Rescue to Remember

to garbotuesday, from wordscorrupt - FANFICTION: Sheltered

to garbotuesday, from whumphoarder - FANFICTION: You Still Got Us

to goldenavenger02, from tonyloveseverybody - FANFICTION: Guilty Conscience

to hersilentlanguage, from slowly-losing-my-mind - FANFICTION: It’s Just a Scratch!

to hi-rosa-sinensis, from marvels-blue-phoenix - FANFICTION: Christmas with you

to IAmAllYetNotAtAll, from Ironfamjam - FANFICTION: More Ancient Than Magic

to i-larb-you, from peachy-boi-uwu - FANFICTION: family is family

to imgoingtocrash, from baloobird - FANFICTION: Dad Handbook

to irondad-is-cannon-bitch, from asoftheesea - FANFICTION: At First I was Afraid, I was Petrified

to Ironfamjam, from Science-lings - FANART

to jason-diego-n-shtposts, from bigbill-iam - FANFICTION: Christmas Morning at the Stark Cabin

to jelly-pies, from endagame - FANFICTION: I'll Be Back Again Someday

to jen27ny, from kitkatwinchester - FANFICTION: The Meaning of Christmas

to josywbu, from jelly-pies - FANFICTION: switch in habit

to juminhansbride, from Arrowmantic - FANART

to Just-the-daydreamer, from Keep-A-Bucket-Full-Of-Stars - FANFICTION: Bake a Little Love (For Me)

to kayte-wren, from camillastrangestark97 - FAN VIDEO

to Keep-A-Bucket-Full-Of-Stars, from wonkystank - FANFICTION: Aging with Grace

to kitkatwinchester, from doctornineandthreequarters - FANFICTION: sugar, butter, flour

to kowalski-analysis66, from Stararchy - FANART

to LifelessMii, from captaingalaxy108 - FANFICTION: a very merry Christmas to all

to mala-sadas, from incorrectmcucontent - FANFICTION: Tired Trying to See

to marvels-blue-phoenix, from baloobird - FANFICTION: I Sure Do Like Those Christmas Cookies

to mcusic-to-my-ears, from writing-in-my-spare-time - FANFICTION: We're Alright

to mmmmmmmmmchicken, from auntmayy - FANART

to n0t-immortal, from kayte-wren - FANFICTION: An Iron Family Christmas

to notjustamumj, from Rebel-author-chick - FANFICTION: Yes Morgan, There is a Santa Claus

to overlycaffeinatedwarmage, from doctornineandthreequarters - FANFICTION: Turn on the Brightest String of Lights I’ve Ever Seen

to peachy-boi-uwu, from endagame - FANFICTION: No Greater Gift

to pixiethefirecat7, from theoceanphoenixhasrisen - FANFICTION: He/Him/His

to Rebel-author-chick, from faynia - FANFICTION: Sing About the Better Things

to sallyidss, from irondad-is-cannon-bitch - FANFICTION: you’ll always be my kid

to sam-is-non-stop, from bethyedolphin9870 - FANFICTION: An MIT Halloween

to Science-lings, from Snarky-drabbles - FANFICTION: are we there yet?

to skatle-skootle-demon-noodle, from imgoingtocrash - FANFICTION: we'll welcome december with tireless hope

to slowly-losing-my-mind, from arrowmantic - FANART

to solarstark, from skatle-skootle-demon-noodle - FANFICTION: The Way It's Meant to be

to spider-beep, from bbcotaku - FANFICTION: You are Invited to the Parker Family Christmas

to Spidersonangst, from theherothechampiontheinquisitor - FANFICTION: The Extra Festive SpiderSicle

to spideynamu, from tonyloveseverybody - FANFICTION: Christmas then and Christmas now

to spideys-sad-and-so-am-i, from mala-sadas - FANFICTION: Weather or Not (You'll Be There)

to Snarky-drabbles, from bluerosewrites - FANFICTION: Stitches

to Stararchy, from spideys-sad-and-so-am-i - FANFICTION: a little bit younger

to stark-illustrates, from thwippin-churros - FANFICTION: Winter Wonderland

to starktowr, from doodleimprovement - FANFICTION: Having A Merry Little Christmas

to starryystark, from IAmAllYetNotAtAll - FANFICTION: I can hear the bells

to Tadie1234, from zuusiee - FANFICTION: Snow Day

to talesofsuspenses, from celestial-irondad - FANFICTION: Five Pranks on Christmas Day

to theoceanphoenixhasrisen, from spider-beep - FANFICTION: ‘Tis The Season (For Hot Chocolate)

to thwippin-churros, from Pawprinter - FANFICTION: It's Gonna be Lit

to tonyloveseverybody, from Snarky-drabbles - FANFICTION: sometimes, people just die (and sometimes, they don't)

to tonystarkbrokemyheart, from stark-illustrates - FANART

to web-headwrites from Just-the-daydreamer - FANFICTION: Christmas gone wrong

to weirdkid-intheback, from snarky-drabbles - FANFICTION: I’ll be Home for Christmas

to whumphoarder, from Desirexwolf - FANFICTION: Night Before Christmas

to wonkystank, from jason-diego-n-shtposts - FANFICTION: Nightmare

to wordscorrupt, from Tadie1234 - FANFICTION: Powerless Parker

to writer-of-the-revolution, from snarky-drabbles - FANFICTION: take these broken wings (and learn to fly)

to writing-in-my-spare-time, from bethyedolphin9870 - FANFICTION: Never A Quiet Day

to zuusiee, from blackchessknight - FANFICTION: Someone Take me Home

#irondadsecretsanta #masterpost

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pink-jindallae · 5 years

Text

At the hospital / Part 1

[Nathaniel/Candy] full angst / heavy mention of panic attack Hospital scene from episode 16 completely rewritten. I'm so slooow to write ;-;

Words: 3464 Author note: Before starting this reading, I would like to highlight Candy's mental state of this episode. I personally felt a lack of investment as Nath's girlfriend. If he wasn't her LI, okay, sure. But as her boyfriend I don't agree. She saw him bleeding to death a few hours ago and she just leaves? Amber asking Candy to stay alone with Nath? Um, no? I'm not sorry to say that I have the fucking right to be with my boyfriend, as much as her. As a writer and as Nath stan, I couldn't let it pass. I got so much frustrated that I had to rewrite the entire hospital scene because first; I can. Second; Beemov cannot get me away from my man like that. LET ME STAY. And third: I LOVE the angst. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy the angst nonetheless ;)

Candy P.O.V.

Nathaniel has been awake for over an hour now. A little while ago, Kim and I were interrogated separately by the police about Nath's assault before they got to question him. Kim assured me soon after that she had repeated word for word Nath's version. As for me, I did the same with a robotic voice, too tired mentally and physically to pretend to be fine in front of the policemen. They didn't ask me too much questions, perhaps discerning my torment. Just after the police left, a nurse came to report on Nathaniel's state. We were relieved to hear his wound wasn't too deep and his organs were untouched. However, she also informed us that Nath had a head injury, so they had to keep him under observation until tomorrow to see how his condition is evolving. My face had blanched during her whole speech, but I didn't interrupt, unlike Amber who peppered her with so many queries. She acted like a lion mama, nearly throwing a tantrum in the hallway, thankfully Kim was there to calm her down. The nurse only concluded by saying we could now visit Nathaniel, although not for too long since he was still recovering and probably exhausted by his prior interrogation. To my surprise, Amber requested to stay alone with him for an unknown reason. I initially didn't agree, because even if she is his sister, I'm his freaking girlfriend and there was no fucking way I would leave like that! Not without seeing him safe and sound. Besides, how she asked rubs me the wrong way, like I wasn't that much important. I acknowledge she has a special bond with her brother, still, it wasn't a good reason enough to push me aside. I know she has changed and I don't rightfully hate her anymore, but God, I just wanted to punch her face at that moment. Hopefully she agreed to let me stay in the end, thanks to Kim who interjected in my favor. However, Amber still demanded to see him by herself first and to avoid another outburst in the hospital, I let her do as she pleased despite my own wish to come along. Only because I would be alone with Nath after as she promised not to be too long. When Amber left, Kim kindly offered to stick around with me a little longer, to which I refused. While I'm grateful for her concern, I needed to be by myself for a moment. Moreover, I would have felt bad to monopolize her presence just for my sake, because she too, was tired after such a night. She despised the hospital anyway, so, she went home to rest without insisting. And now I'm on my own in the waiting room for what felt like eternity. I can't remember how long I've been counting the minutes. The hand of the clock is turning, and yet, time seems to have frozen. It ticks with an annoying sound as if to emphasize the surrounding silence of death, reminding me again and again this disastrous evening. That deafening noise is taunting me, resounding a little louder as soon as I lose the thread, just to have the pleasure to grab all my attention while I'm waiting to see Nathaniel. I watch it with a rather confusing obsession despite my annoyance. I hate myself for that, I can't help but check the seconds spinning through the clock face. Because that noisy thing represents the heartbreaking absence of Nath by my side. Even if I know that on the other side of the wall, he's alive... Slumped on my chair, I bring my legs against my chest, my forehead glued to my knees. I need to see him so much ... "Are you all right, Miss?" I raise my head sharply. Another worried middle-aged nurse is looking at me and I can see pity through her clear eyes. What a sorry sight am I. "Y-yes." Great, my voice is shaking. "I ... I'm just waiting to see my boyfriend ..." "Oh ... is it the boy who arrived at the emergency room earlier?" I only nod, unable to speak at the recall of the events. The nurse sits next to me, her clipboard pad resting on her lap. "Your boyfriend is safe now, don't worry." she begins in a benevolent tone that irks me. "His relative is by his side right now, but you can rest for a while." The nurse's compassion touches me deeply, or maybe it's tiredness that speaks for me, because I feel my eyes sting a little bit as I'm about to cry any time soon. "I have to see him first." "This evening must have been very hard for you too, you have the right to rest. I'm sure he won't be angry if you come back later." She still insists. "I can't!" I nearly scream. "I need to see him!" Unable to contain myself anymore, I hunker down, squeezing my arms so hard that a red mark is blemishing my skin. I can't go home. Not now, not like that! Not seeing him drives me crazy! I'm exhausted ... my whole body is sore. "Would you like to call someone? Family, friends?" I shake my head, eyes closed. Her insistence begins to pester me. Why is everyone is completely disregarding my feelings? Amber, the nurse, even Nath. I'm that much insignificant not to have anything to say. My voice, no matter how I yell, is unheard and my opinion not even an option. Amber had already asked me if she could see him first, alone, and I meekly agreed to make her happy. And yet, I had to fight so I wouldn't be sent away, still muffled and saved by someone else. The nurse now pushes me to go home for the sake of resting regardless my desire to stay. And Nath… Damn, he didn't even wanted to see me at the gym. Kim said she called me because he agreed to, but with the way he acted, I doubt that. He was so stubborn, not listening to anything and facing my lack of power, Kim decided to call the ambulance against his will. During the ride to the hospital I have wondered; if she hadn't phoned me, I would have been unaware of Nathaniel's state since brother and sister like to keep secrets as if I wasn't part of their life. As if … I was nothing. "Just leave me. Go away." I coldly mumble, chasing those memories away. The nurse doesn't insist anymore and walk away after reminding me to contact the medical staff if I needed anything. Like hell I would. I feel many eyes on me nonetheless, kept under surveillance from afar. My mental state seems to worry them, but I don't care. All my thoughts are turned to one person. I decided to get up after her departure though, to freshen up a bit, the need to walk and think about something else motivating me to move. Specially to avoid their insistent stares, almost too heavy with judgment. When I see myself in the mirror, I quickly comprehend their dismay. It is anything but glorious ... My hair is disheveled, my eyes are swollen from crying and consequently, my mascara has heavily dripped on my cheeks. My white-like face doesn't really help to improve my condition. I look a fright ... The most impressive thing is my clothes stained with blood – his blood –. No wonder the nurses were concerned. I hurry to make a coarse bun in order to hold my hair in place, then rinse my face, erasing below the neon light all traces of this morbid night. I still look exhausted but at least I'm more presentable. Once I'm satisfied with my reflection, I go back to my seat. Meanwhile Amber has appeared in my line of sight, coming out of the elevator with a sullen expression. My heart skips a beat and I run to join her. "Amber!" She glances up at my panicked face and smiles weakly to reassure me as best she could, although it looks more like a grimace. "I was looking for you. You can go see him." "How is he?" I ask, worried about her peaky look. "The doctors told me he could go home soon. Luckily, he can talk and move despite his head trauma." Upon hearing the news, all the pressure on my shoulders evaporates bit by bit. I'm so relieved he is fine… "Did he ..." The blonde cuts me off, shaking her head in negative. He didn't reveal anything to her either. I sigh, depressed. Of course, he's not the type to vent so easily. Even her twin sister doesn't know everything about him. The few times we spoke indicates that Nathaniel didn't confide to her as much as she believes to. "I'm sorry for earlier…" she suddenly resumes, changing the subject. "… for insisting to see my brother alone. But please understand that I needed to talk to him. Nothing against you." I'm taken off guard by her sudden apologies. I really didn't expect it at all to be honest… "I… It's fine. I guess." I articulate, dumbfounded. She averts her eyes, probably feeling too guilty to look at me directly. "I may have overreacted." "You did. And to tell you the truth, it hurt me." I frankly blurt out. "So honest, as always. I like that about you." She lets out a small laugh and I smile in return. I'm glad she noticed her wrongdoing and asked for my forgiveness. She was as anxious as I was, so, I can understand in a sense. And to be fair, I'd probably request the same in her shoes if she wasn't her relative… "Thank you again for being there for him ... Thank you for everything. You saved his life." She sobs in a weak voice, taking my hands in hers. I lower my eyes at her statement, not sure to deserve gratitude. I didn't do anything. Kim saved Nathaniel while I was watching him, helpless. My conscience planting arrows in my heart keeps me quiet, not knowing what to answer. Amber's hand pulls me out of my thoughts by squeezing mine. She stares without saying anything, her message mute. I only notice now that her green eyes have lost their sparkle, filled with remorse too. "I'm going to his flat to bring some clothes and feed Blanche. I'll be back soon." she informs, gently releasing my hand. "Watch over him, please. He's waiting for you." I just agree in silence, the knot around my neck tightening slightly. I don't waste more time to watch her go and fly to the elevator. And damn the seconds feel like hours in the lift. I've waited so long to see Nath that I tremble like a leaf out of stress. My anxiety is only amplifying, trapped in this metallic box. The walls come off as an oppressive cage, shrinking around me. I feel like I'm suffocating ... It makes my mind runs wild, what I've striven to push back in my mind suddenly arises with brutality. My boyfriend is laying in a hospital bed after an attempted murder. The bloodcurdling realization I could have lost him forever tears me from inside. I remember too well watching him bleed to death. I can still smell the blood, see the light in his eyes weakening and his life being taken away slowly… I struggle in vain to hold back my suffering, but it's far beyond my strength. I can't help but dwell on the events, unable to think of anything but his twisted face of pain, the gaping wound and the pool of blood. It wasn't an accident. Someone tried to end his life. Stop! I must not panic. Do not panic! Nathaniel is fine, Nathaniel is fine ... I repeat these words like a mantra. Focusing on dominating my terror, I close my eyes for a moment and inhale deeply. My breath is shaking, but I keep taking deep breath to calm the frantic beat in my chest. My body is agitated with nervous spasms, I squeeze my hands hard to stop my tremors. Carefully ... slowly ... I'm breathing. At long last the elevator stops and after a soft "ding", slides open. The overwhelming gasp of air at the opening wakes me up from my horrifying trance, my lungs finally accepting some oxygen. After a gulp, I'm resolved to get out and stand right in front his room. I enter with a gentle push on the door which creaks faintly under the pressure of my fingers. What I see behind crushes my heart. Nathaniel seems to have fallen asleep, but his features are drawn, denoting extreme fatigue. His face is still a little pale, but slowly picks some colors up again. His left eye is slightly swollen, as are his knuckles. There was no doubt he tried to defend himself against his aggressors as much as he could. I pinched my lips so as not to break down again, shaken beyond word by his atypical vulnerability. I must be strong. I shed enough tears. At some point, I finally allow myself to approach with catlike stealth to avoid waking him up. My hand smooths his golden hair, brushing aside wet strands on his forehead. Softly … fearing of hurting him more. With the same care, I stroke his damaged hands in hope it would erase the marks of his fight. I wish I could take all of his pain… "You're here…" I jump, startled. Nathaniel is awake. He painfully opens his eyelids to gaze at me. I'd like to answer something, but on the verge of tears, words are strangled in my throat. "I'd have preferred to welcome you in some other way." he continues with a sheepish smile in an effort to relax the atmosphere. Except it provokes the opposite of the desired effect. He looks at me, his eyes filled with grief. His hand frees itself from mine to caress my cheek and I close my eyes to enjoy his touch full of tenderness. I barely notice him wiping a tear that has escaped against my will. And here I promised myself not to cry anymore. Damn it… "I ruined our date again." He feebly murmurs. "Forgive me." I shake my head, eyelids firmly closed. Other tears flood with me powerless to stop it. Nath remains silent, busy to dry all the sad pearls rolling on my skin. "Don't be ridiculous, you idiot ..." I end to whisper with a trembling voice. "We'll have other dates. I just want you to heal quickly." I swallow my tears somehow and finally open my eyes to offer him the best smile I could do. Nevertheless, he only observes me without saying anything, his look indecipherable. His eyes glint with a dark and melancholy glow, almost seeking to penetrate my thoughts. His face seems tortured, preoccupied, a frown on his forehead. A voice in my head hisses that pain is not the main cause. Anxiety, anger, guilt, maybe something else. I'm not sure what I can read. He carries my hand to his lips and kisses it with infinite love, contrasting with his painful expression. Nath, is there something you're not telling me? The rustling sound of sheets catches my attention all of sudden. My veiled eyes immediately fall on Nathaniel who's trying to get up, his face disfigured in pain. "Nath!" With an unsteady step, I try to lie him down but this obstinate man resists. "I just want to sit down, I'm tired of laying." He insists. "Don't be foolish, you have to rest! Imagine if your wound opens again!" I'm unsuccessfully trying to convince him, but he is too adamant and completely deaf to my protests. I shortly give up, helpless in front of his stubbornness, and put his cushion in a way he can lean on it without hurt. It takes him a few minutes to find the right position. "It doesn't hurt too much?" I ask as I sit on the mattress to get closer. "I'm fine ... I've experienced worse." Worse? What can be worse than being stabbed in the abdomen? Could it be related to the scar on his lips? To his father? My face runs out of blood just imagining it. Facing my frightened look, Nath takes my hand again squeezes it more firmly. "No wait! I mean ..." he resumes with difficulty. "... I'll be okay, you don't have to worry about that." "How could you ..." His thumb lays on my lower lip to keep me quiet, fondly brushing it. "I'm fine, okay? That's all you need to think about now." "But you nearly killed yourself, how could you expect me to stay calm after that? Nath, you could have died!" "What happened, happened. And I'm still alive." What the hell! I know he wants to be reassuring but he can't tell me that like that, as if it was something trivial! "Listen to me," He begins but I refuse to hear his nonsense. I drop and shake my head. The situation is so absurd, it makes me crazy! It's a nightmare. Breathing becomes difficult again, I feel like choking once more. Sensing my distress, Nath cups my face and forces me to look at him. "Listen to me!" He gives me time to calm myself before carrying on. I stare back with a look in which an unreasonable dread is reflected. I know I'm overreacting but … "You're afraid." I'm not. I'm terrified. "I understand, I really do. But look, I'm fine." He caresses my cheeks with lots affection and so much care to put me at peace, but I'm still shivering so much. However, my body is less stiff now, soothed by his voice. "I'm fine…" He calmly repeats again, insisting on this point until I stop shuddering. "All I need is my girlfriend by my side. This night has been painful enough for you and for me… We both need to rest. Just let me enjoy your company. Is it too much to ask?" I have to admit he's right. He is indeed fine. He survived and is certainly exhausted by his injury. I was so preoccupied by my own fear I forgot the most important; taking care of him. Ashamed, I lower my eyes. "I'm sorry…" "No don’t be, love." He murmurs, putting his forehead against mine. "I'm the one who should be. You deserve so much better than that." "Shut up." I sob. Our faces are so close, caressed by our breath, yet I feel so far away from him, an unbreakable wall between us. And I know… he is the one building it, pushing me away. Again. "Come." He simply finishes by opening his arms. He wants us to cuddle. "Your wound, it could open ..." I weakly protest, fighting against my own desire to snuggle against him. "My right side is fine." Nath persists. I don't want him to suffer ... My hesitation crumbles a little more when he softly pleads: "I need you in my arms ..." I don't want to start a quarrel, especially in these conditions. I'm too tired anyway. Besides, I'd lie if I said I don't want to be in his arms too ... Short of argument, I breathe: "Promise me to tell me if you're in pain." He simply nods, and I give up. With caution, I go around the right side of the bed where he's not injured. I'm careful not to lean too much upon him, my side propped against his cushion, but my head finds its way to the crook his neck. His right arm slides around my waist and presses me a little more against him despite my reluctance, yet I oppose no resistance. His soothing heartbeat under my palm relaxes me. He is still alive… Being in his arms drains all energies I had left, in other word, almost none. My eyes close when he brushes a warmth kiss full of comfort on the top of my head. I'm just so weak even though I should be the one who supports him. I can't help myself thinking I must do more than complaining and crying. He silences me when I word my thoughts and confesses that being here is more than enough. Actually, it is what he needs the most according to him so, I'm not arguing. After all, a nurse is coming soon to kick me out and I don't want to leave him with a pointless fight. Silence now surrounds us. Not a single word is shared anymore. We are just enjoying each other presence… … as if it would be the last time.

#mcl nathaniel #my candy love #amour sucre #mcl candy #mclul #my candy love university life #amour sucre campus life #Corazon de Melon #nathaniel x candy #nathaniel x lynn #angst #mention of panic attack

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