#Quick Stitch Tool for Self

[cdroloisms]

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao) 

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

[web-spinning]

" Safe and alive "- a short TF2 story.

A / N- Hi, uhm... I couldn't find any fics taking place in the comics, so I decided to take it into my own hands. This just really a short story, taking place in the sixth issue. Featuring my OC / self-insert who's name is Michael ( no way my self-insert has my name! ), he's basically Engie's kid, and he hella has no idea where on Earth did the old man go. And in the mean time, he founds out his almost-fiance came back from the death. Fun times, am I right?

And yes, I researched it- mechanical engineers and mechanics are two different professions. Well, hope you enjoy? And I will get back to writing actual requests now.

TW. mentions of nudity, blood and injuries.

And a bottle of scrumpy.

Thanks, sir.- Michael said, sitting back on the ground and looking up at the man standing in front of him.

- Quit the formalities, just call me Saxton.- The huge Australian replied, smiling from under his thick mustache.

- Of course... Saxton.- The younger man said, quickly looking back at the sentry before him. It made a paralyzing whirring sound, clearly broken. Analyzing it carefully, he noticed two bullets stuck in the very middle of the hardware.

- That's why ya weren't functioning, rookie.- He said, slowly taking a wrench out of his tool box.

- Here goes nothing.- Mike kept on mumbling, as he slowly unattached the hardware. The noise stopped, and the man exhaled with ease.

- I would have to dress you first!- He heard Miss Pauling yell out. Looking towards the direction of his colleagues he couldn't help but chuckle. They must've been arguing over that...well, Soldier and his partner went on a naked rampage.

- Ugh, you idiots! Why can't you be...- The woman kept on yelling. Michael could’ve swore her voice stopped for a few seconds before she finished the sentence.-professionals...

- Hello naked Sniper!- Soldier exclaimed, seemingly happy. At that, the young mechanic sighed. He knew Soldier wasn't...the brightest, but he could've at least have some respect for somebody who's dead. Especially that the said somebody was so close to Mike. 

- Hey.- The man could feel his heart stop. That voice...no, it couldn't possibly be...could it?

The mechanic looked behind himself, once again at his colleagues. And he saw him. He felt his knees go weak. Some tears appeared in the corner of his sky blue eyes. Not tears of sadness this time. He quickly stood up from the sentry, throwing the wrench along with the hardware onto the ground. He rushed towards the man.

- Sniper!- The other man slowly looked towards his way. His jaw dropped, but then quickly lifted up into a genuine smile.

They were about to stumble into a hug, until Michael harshly stopped once he noticed the huge, precisely made surgery cut in the shape of the letter Y. Some blood came from under the stitches. The man himself didn't look the best.

- What is this? How are you alive? I saw you die!... Why are you naked?- The mechanic started questioning, looking at his lover.

Mundy was about to answer, but he was cut off by Saxton Hale's sharp voice.

- Here's your new gear, mates!- He said, leaning onto the supply box that had " Mann.Co- professional mercenary clothing " written on it. Without thinking twice, Mike quickly took Sniper's hand in his, and rushed to the box, before anyone else could. He crouched down next to it, as the Australian slowly let go of the box. He tried opening the box, but realized he left his tools behind, and his hands weren't that strong.

- Uhm...any help?- Asking that, he showed a slight smile towards the huge man. At that, Saxton only smiled back, and one quick punch of his hand the box was open.

- Thanks.- Michael continued, now diving into the clothes in the box. At the very top laid some bandages and other medical supplies, which he quickly took and handed over to his partner.

- We will need this.- He said, continuing searching as Mundy took the supplies from his hand.

The mechanic bit his lip, as he couldn't find the right clothing. He slowly took out other stuff from it- Soldier's pants, Heavy's safety vest, Demoman's socks and abruptly, he stopped at the hard hat that laid there. Gulping, he took it out. 

- We will find you pap, I promise.- He thought to himself, setting the hat on the ground next to him. Finally, he found the clothes he was looking for. He took the grey boxers out of the box, right with the midnight green trousers. Michael stood up, turning to the other man.

- Here, put these on and I will patch you up.- He said, handing the clothes over to their original owner. Sniper accepted them, giving Mike back the bandages. As Mundy began to dress up, the mechanic's mind started stumbling over it's own thoughts.

- If he was with the administrator the entire time...why didn't he tell me?- He thought, looking at the ground.- I am his son, goddamn!... He always trusted me.

And he could stay in that train of thoughts for hours without end, but he heard his lover's voice again.

- I'm done.

- Hm? Oh, okay, great! Sit down.- Michael said, approaching the man, who obeyed and slowly sat down on the grassed ground.

The mechanic pulled himself to the ground, exhaling.

- This might hurt.- He said, looking up at the other man.- But you can explain to me what happened while I do it.

He began to arrange the supplies. Seeing how he couldn't find any disinfectant liquid, he turned to Demoman, who was currently reloading his grenade launcher, with a bottle in his hand. 

- Hey Tavish, got any of that liquor left?- Michael yelled out.- I need it.

- Ay, ye. Here ya go, lad.- The Scot replied, slowly letting go of his weapon and throwing the bottle over at the two men. Michael caught it, some centimeters away from Mick's already injured chest. He slowly poured the liquid onto one of the swabs, and delicately began touching Mundy's scars with it. The man yelped a bit.

- The Doc brought me back...- He started, looking for words.- I...I thought I would never see ya again, Wampus. 

- I thought so too, Kiwi.- Michael replied, smiling sadly. He looked into Sniper's eyes for a few seconds, then continued to clean out the scar from blood. He received another yelp.

- I see ya found yourself new pet names to use, eh?

- Yeah.

- What about yer pap? Where is he?- At that question, the mechanic stopped.

- I...I don't know.- He gulped, looking down.- But we're...going to find him. As soon as we get rid of those idjits.

Even though he said it himself, he truly doubted it. Trying not to think about it, he went back to patch up the other man as his colleagues fought the wave of robots around them. 

[xsugarysweetsx]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 10

Warnings; Long!, Angst, blood, stitching not too much, biting, language, mention of character death, mentions violence, surgery while awake (poorly written), self-inflicted cut, proceed with caution!! Fluffy end~

A/N: First of all thank you, EVERYONE, for coming on this journey with me! This is by far my favorite original I've written so far and of course, thank you all for the constant support and feedback <3 And a very very big shoutout and thank you to @shrimp1026 for helping me edit and come up with ideas for chapters and the flow of the story! This could not have come together without you! ♥️

Previous End.

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...

"Unless what four eyes!?" Levi raised his voice in desperation

"The moon is still high and will stay there for about 2 hours, that would give us enough to clean the wound and try to.....turn her," Hanji said cautiously knowing Levi was sensitive to the topic

"Over my dead body!" he said holding you closer to him he could feel your blood soaking into the dress you wore "There has to be another way, I'm not doing that shit again!"

"Levi...there's no time. The most I can do and stitch the cut but she's lost too much blood."

Looking down at you in his hold, you were so pale and weak. He couldn't risk potentially kill you, but if he did nothing you could still perish. He wasn't even choosing for his own life, this decision would completely alter your life as you knew it.

"..I'll completely change her life. She won't see her family, her friends, her job, any of it. She'll have to switch to blood, no more sunlight...how the hell do you expect me to strip her of so many freedoms to suffer like we have"

"Levi-"

"No! You know damn well this is no way to live! No sun, no family, no children, now you tell me who the fuck am I to take that from her?!" Hanji knew he was just hurt right now, frustrated and most of all terrified of what may come

"Levi we're losing time," Erwin speaks up "It's either you don't turn her or she dies here tonight!" he says "it's up to you...let her live or die...."

He looked down at you with a pained expression. He was going to have to do it. He rests his forehead on your own praying to any god willing to listen, begging not to take you from him. The grip he had on your weakening form couldn't even be broken by death. He knew this was the only way but if he causes your death….he wasn’t sure if he could live on after…

He stood up slowly and gently carried you over to the alter you were on before. You groan slightly as he settles you down on the stone bed...the moonlight made you so beautiful. Even in this state, the way it illuminated your face, he was sure he was in the presence of an angel. He pushed your hair from your face and caressed your skin gently. He came down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead

"Y/N....Y/N can you hear me?"

"Mmmm" you try but groan at the lightness of your head and ache from your wound

"Listen...Hanji is gonna stitch you up....and I'm going to...to turn you...I need you to tell me now if you want to go through with it..." he whispered to you as he takes a hold of your knuckles and kisses them.

"Mhm....as long as...it's you..." you give consent squeezing his hand back with as much strength as you could

"Alright Hanji, let's get this over with," he said eyeing the moon still overhead. Meanwhile, Erwin and Molbit start to set things up, bringing extra blankets for you and set Hanji's tools up. Levi quickly gathers Floch and Zeke and ties them together, he'll deal with them later on.

"Y/N...I'm gonna have to make this quick and you'll have to deal with the pain a little alright? If it gets too much tell me okay?" you nod getting ready for what was to come

"Hey, I'm right here okay?" Levi said coming to your head, his hands coming to put some weight on your upper body. Your hand came up to brace his bicep as you feel Hanji pinch the skin and begin to sow the skin. The first one wasn't too bad but closing the stitch was like hell

"AAHH!" you squeeze Levi's arm the puncture of the needle, the thread going through, and the tightening of the skin shot your entire system awake. You couldn't tell if you were awake from the pain of the wound or the stitching but either way, it kept you conscious.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hanji said trying to work faster but with mercy "Just three more okay?"

"L-Levi...it hurts..." you whine as tears spill from your eyes

"I know...I'm so sorry, you're almost there, I'm sorry" Levi will take all the blame for this. Your pain, your injury, your entire world colliding with his. Hanji keep stitching the wound keeping track of how much time was left. With one final pierce and stitch it was done

"Done...." haji said out of breath as a shakey hand wipes away some sweat. "Y/N? How ya holding up?" he asked as Levi let you go wiping away your tears and mentally prepared himself for what was next

"O-okay...." you respond in a raspy voice

"Y/N I need to listen to me carefully...I'm going to be turning you..." Levi said making sure he had your attention, you nod your head in acknowledgment "after the bite, there's going to be a pain, then burning....and..you'll die....but you'll come back. It'll feel like a very long dream once you're back. We can still turn back if you want to."

"I trust you, Levi...I trust you with my life." he lifts your body from the tale and sits you in his lap. He pulled you onto his lap and you sling your hand to drape around his neck. He held you gently yet securely to his body. He lowered his face into the crook of your neck, placing a few small kisses along the column of your neck. A way of him apologizing for what he would do. He stopped at the crook of your neck where your shoulder and neck meet.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..." he whispers before he bears his fangs and sinks them down into your skin. It was sharp but quick almost like a shot but this was a different feeling. Your head was spinning as a dull pain started to ache at the puncture. Levi draws a bit of blood but not too much, but damn the taste of your blood was so sweet, it was hard to not take more. He pulls away before he could lose control, your breathing starts to become heavy, and your arms clench at the back of his shirt

"L-Levi...Levi, it burns" you whine as you thrash around a bit, it was finally taking effect

"I know...I know it does but you need to hold on, it'll be over soon" Levi bit his lip as he tried to hold and calm you while the bite took its course "Y/N look at me...please" you look up at him the best you could as your vision blurred and spotted

"Just know I love you more than anything in this world...and when you wake up, I'll be there to hold you, to comfort you, and to take care of you"

"L-Levi I-I..." your grip tightened as your vision darkened and your breath became shallow, your heart was pounding in your chest. It felt like it was going to jump out of your chest from the fear you were feeling. But somehow the fear felt welcoming, maybe it was because Levi was holding you maybe it was his words. But you knew what was coming, and yet you smiled...

"I...love you..." you say on your final breath as your eyes close slowly and your body goes limp in his hold. That's it, it was done. This wasn't normal, you should be smiling, and making bad jokes with him. You should be holding his face like you always do, making his heart flutter in his chest....but you were as still as a coffin. Looking overhead to the moon as it started to descend and lose its red hue. Fortunately, he was on time, which meant you should wake in 2 days.

"Let's get outta here." He said carrying you bridal style. For the first time in his life, Levi was tired and all he wanted was to curl up next to you and sleep. Sadly that wasn't the case. In this case, he would lay next to you until he saw your eyes open again.

<>

It had been 3 days since the turning, and nothing yet. You were as still as a corpse for 3 days and 2 nights. Levi was growing desperate, and more concerned by the minutes. He hadn't eaten anything, or drank anything nor did he sleep. He would pace the room, sit, lay down, brush your hair, kiss your knuckles and even talk to you.

"I saw some of the leaves changing color today, I remember you said you liked the fall...I want us to take a walk through the meadow when you wake up so you can see all the trees. So hurry up so we can go and lay under the trees"

However, when he did take a break he would go somewhere secret. Levi was a very reserved man who kept certain things to himself, this was one of those things. There was a basement under the large home he shared with Hanji and Erwin.

He had discovered it a while back when he needed it for some safekeeping. After getting you home Zeke was still conscious of what had happened. Now if you would think that I leave I would let him off the hook so easily oh, then you are very mistaken. To Levi, this man could never be forgiven for what he had done. As for Floch, he had said something about you that Levi wasn't too fond of...Long story short he tied him to a tree to let the sun come up and end him.

As for Zeke, he had gone only once for the past 3 days. The rest consisted of him sitting in front of a window with bars and each morning the sun would sear his skin until it had risen completely. Once you woke up, he'd take care of business himself. However, for now, his place was here by your side.

"Hey Levi, nothing yet?" Hanji asked as she came into the room with tea in hand. She gave him the cup of his favorite blend "here, it's fresh."

"Thank you," he said taking the cup and taking a sip of it

"Y/N would want you to take a break ya know..." she pointed "She'll be up before you know it"

"And when she does she'll be in shock and I have to be here with her," he said taking a glance at the brunette.

"I know but-" Hanji was interrupted by coughing. They quickly look over to you. Your eyebrows were knitted as your body jerks from the coughing. Levi shoots up to be by your side and pats your back to help you get it all out.

"L-Levi" you said weakly as you reach in search of him to hold on to. However, as you reach your arm out a beam of sunlight that crept through the blinds had kissed your skin and burned you. You hiss and pull your arm close to your body

"Hanji the blinds! Go get Erwin and Molbit" he said getting a better hold of you to calm you down from the shock

"Got it!"

You were dazed...and confused. To be frank, you were..somewhere, not here but somewhere. It was cold and pale. You had seen many events in your life take place in front of you. Your first day of school, first time driving, first kiss, and even the day you met Levi. But you were cold and confused and suddenly you had woken up as if it were a long dream.

"W-what happened? Levi where is Z-zeke, I-I-"

"Ssshh, sshh, you're safe. I've got you. You're safe. Here," he reached over and grabbed his pocket knife, gliding it over the skin of his forearm "you've been out for 3 days. You need to feed or you'll get sick. I'll explain everything..but first, eat."

You were still confused, things coming back to you slowly but surely. Meanwhile, Levi's arm was bleeding in front of you, and was expecting you to..drink blood. Taking a hold of his arm you gently bring it towards you, Levi urging you to drink. You latch on hesitantly taking your first gulp of blood.

A sudden, passionate urge to chug more overcame you as you bit down into his flesh. He didn't flinch instead coaching you how you should drink. You couldn't help but drink greedily, you felt as if you were starved for years. The warm liquid running down your throat parched your thirst and satisfied your hunger. You finally release his arm with a slight pop and pant.

Looking at Levi's arm you could see the marks you had left on him. Two holes appearing where you were latched on to. Your fingers come up and feel at your teeth where two new fangs were placed. They come down slightly lower than your regular ones, with much sharper ends.

"Y/N, I know you're confused...do you need anything before I explain what happened?" he asked sitting down and taking your hands in his. They were..so warm and comforting. The way they completely captured your own made you feel at ease.

"A-a..bath?" you ask weakly. Nodding his head he helps you to stand only for you to stumble and fall. Catching you before you could hit the floor.

"I got ya," he said carrying you to the bathroom with his hands underneath your knees and your arms around his neck. You wouldn't be able to stand for what he knows so a hot bath should do you good. He started to run the water and as it filled he helped you to strip from your clothes.

For the first time in a while, he saw your naked form once again. It was paler, a bit thinner, it wasn't the same as before but it was still you. As he slides down the dress he kisses your shoulder, your collarbone, your heart.

"I've missed you" he whispered helping you to stand and walk to the tub.

"I did too" you smile softly as you step in the warm water carefully and sit down in the comforting water. You lie back against the cool bath tile as you let out a sigh

"how long was I asleep for?" you ask looking over at Levi as he sat on the floor caressing areas of your face

"3 days, 2 nights," he answered

"So...so...I'm a vampire now?"

"Yeah...I am so sorry, you've got to live this way now," he said clenching his jaw "if I had done something before...you wouldn't be this way-"

"Levi," you cut him off "if you had done something before I wouldn't be here. Right now, with you....hell I wouldn't even be alive. Everything you've done up until now has saved my ass more than once. I think it's only right I can spend eternity with you now. Right?"

"I suppose"

"Hey look at it this way, now we can do more things together right?" you try and get him to smile "hey do you think could do it on the ceiling now?" you even managed to get him to chuckle a little

He smiled just a bit at the thought of you being his, of having someone to live out this life forever. "Listen I have to go and take care of something. Think you'll be okay until I get back? 5 minutes tops, if anything call Hanji."

"I'll be fine" you smile at him he gets up and walks to the door "hey Levi?" he stops

"Yes?"

"..I love you."

"and I love you"

~

"ah my favorite masochist is back to hopefully end my misery" mocked a voice from a specific blonde who was tied to the chair. He could have gotten away from it but Levi takes certain measures to keep him there as long as he wanted. However lately he's been wanting to just finish the job and get over with it.

"Hardly." he said bluntly "however if you're not dead by sunset I'll kill you myself and get over this crap," he said opening up the blinds more until Zeke was fully covered in sunlight, his scream filling the basement. Steam rising from his body as the hiss of his skin filled Levi's ears. Grabbing a rag he stuffs it into Zeke's mouth to muffle out the screams "ugh can't stand the sound of your voice. Keep it down we've got people in recovery ya know. It's rude"

<>

You had been in the bath for just a few more minutes before you felt to get out. You grabbed a towel, dried off, and made your way back to the room you were sharing with Levi. All your stuff was still there, your clothes, your phone, your shoes. It really was like you died...you sigh and proceed to get dressed in something warm and comfortable.

"You really scared the crap outta me ya know.." gasping you turn around quickly to the voice of someone you had missed with your entire soul "You could have told me but I heard from your vampire boyfriend instead," he said wiping her tears and practically tackling you in a hug.

"Sasha! B-but how? I mean...how?" you ask her never letting go

"I kept calling and calling after you told me about Floch. He went missing and I never heard from him again. I thought you might have killed him" she laughed "your boyfriend explained everything and I'm..still shocked but..happy I still have my best friend." she smiled with glossy eyes

"Oh Sasha"

"..By the way, Levi is perfect for you" she winked making you both giggle, "Levi told me to come over and he explained how you had gotten into some trouble. So I came and helped to take care of you and even brought you some things"

*meow* looking down at your feet your beautiful cat was at your feet "Mochi! Oh god I missed you so much!" you said picking him up and kissing his soft head "remind me to hook you up with a cute guy, any guy you want I'll make it work"

"Yeah yeah come on, let's head downstairs" taking Mochi with you, you leave the room to head downstairs. Mochi followed at your feet as you walked down to the front door where Erwin and Molbit were

"Y/N! you're awake! How are you feeling? Do you need to sit?" Molbit offered ready to get a chair

"I'm fine, thanks Molbit" you smile as you come to give both of them a hug "and thanks for what you guys have done for me up until now"

"Hey, you're part of the Coven now...if that's what you would like to see it as." Erwin smiled softly

"I think I'd love that" you smile "hey where's Hanji?" Erwin pointed over his shoulder to the hallway that lead to the kitchen. Walking down the now-familiar hallway you come into the room with Hanji and Levi talking over some tea

"Hi Hanji.." you say to catch her attention

"Y/N I'm so glad you're better" she sighed as she came to hug you "I'm sorry by the way, about the whole stitching thing with no medication" he scratched the back of her neck

"It did hurt but you did save my life Hanji, thank you"

"Oh it was no problem really" she blushed putting her cup down "but I think Levi needs some of that credit as well"

Looking behind her was the man who truly did save your entire life. He was also the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. What started out as a bystander simply helping you, then saving your life another two times turn into something so much more. You walk over to Levi who stood by the window gazing into the trees. Hanji walked over to Sasha gave her a small tap on the shoulder has assigned to give you both some privacy

"hey" you whispered

"How was the bath? Are you Hungry? Cold? Anything?" he asked

"No, I just wanted to see you..." you said as your hands come up to rest on his chest, his finding your waist

"You should be careful, those fangs might attract Erwin and I don't wanna deal with his shitty eyebrows," he said making you chuckle and rest your head on his chest

"You know you're the only one for me" his finger finds your chin and lifts your gaze gently towards him

"heh, I better be" he smirks as he captures your lips in a passionate and fiery kiss. The kids screamed how much he had missed you, how much he wanted you, and of course how much he loves you. He held your body close to his own, fearing if he let go something would take you from him

You wanted to stay here forever. In his arms, in his kiss...well you could now if you wanted.

"What do you think about it?" you pull away wrapping your hands around his neck

"About what?" he asked you

"How's your life now that you have me? Now that I'm yours forever?" you asked as he came to rest his forehead against your won

"The day that our worlds collided, I knew it had to be you" he pecks your nose "my one and forever"

°°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°° °°°°

END~

Taglist: @mysteriousmagicx @kameko-ko @chronic-claire-universe @shrimp1026 @captainchrisstan @givemea-dam-break @actual-trash-goblin @leiaausmus @sugarysweets-appreciation-blog @levisfilm @outcast-thingz @leviiiiiiiii @dilirx @super-peace-fangirl @ultimateelitepenguin @happygalaxymilkshake @lola2001 @sillykawa @queenofcursesx @fanfictionreaderholic @notgoodforlife @deludedimagines @xcityretro @chocolatrchip @carley-chan @christina-mj-stan @sxlt3dcarqmelx

Thank you for reading! ~🍰

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

BESTIES!! PART 10 IS A HOT ONE!! Enjoy reading it as much as I did while writing it (and re-reading it because its probs one of my fav parts of the whole series) Love Always, Steph xx

Part 10 | parte dieci

warnings; heavy-petting, almost-smut, and a hot jack grealish - read at your own risk ;) word count; 2469. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 16/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Longing glances and shy smiles. That  was how Amelia and Ben both spent the next morning at Cobham together, prior to travelling to Stamford Bridge for the fourth match of the season against Aston Villa. The two had spent the rest of the evening relaxing on the couch; no additional kisses were shared between them as they had both agreed to keep things friendly, and no matter how hard Ben tried, Amelia had no intentions of going any further just yet. She had admitted to him something that she had never uttered out loud before: she still needed to work out how to exist without Fede.

While their situationship had been as unconventional as it was, it was still something that Amelia had grown to live with and love. Fede’s personality was unlike no other she had come across, perhaps closest to that of Jack Grealish. Friendly, flirtatious, charming, to the point where she found herself blushing sometimes - not many people had been able to make her shy enough to blush, but Fede had, and now Jack was too.

hot boy grealish

mornin mils, can’t wait to see ya today.

I’ll be the hot one with the good hair and even better ass.

hot gal mils

morning my dear jacky, looking forward to seeing you too.

Is Tyrone not playing?

His bum has always been my fav bum to stare at.

hot boy grealish

cut it out, you.

Banter-filled texts had been a constant stream of entertainment throughout the days leading up to the match. Jack has been preparing Amelia for the possibility of her losing, constantly picking on the girl for being an overachiever and saying that she needs to be brought down a few pegs, having been quite some time since her team had lost a match. Amelia however, with enough self-confidence to rival that of the villa boy, wouldn’t even let him finish his sentences. Far too superstitious for that to happen.

The girl believed in superstitions, and she was not about to tempt her fate. She even went so far as to have her family name and a small Italian flag embroidered onto the inside of her collar of every polo shirt she would wear for match days. She did it at Juventus and organised for it to be done to her new Chelsea uniform. It was a personal choice, something that happened to run in her family also, her father and brother also having the White family name stitched to the inside of their kit. It was a way of keeping them all tied together, no matter what side of the pitch they were on. The Italian flag was there to remind her of all that the country had given her: her grandparents and a chance to be brilliant at what she loves most.

Arriving at Stamford Bridge off of the team bus, Jorgi had insisted she sitwith him and they spoke exclusively in Italian for the 30-odd minute drive from Cobham. Despite Amelia purchasing a new car a few days prior, Jorgi insisted they continue to carpool. It worked out well because now Amelia wouldn’t have to catch the team bus back to the training ground after the match. She had spent the better part of an hour out on the pitch with some of the boys, running through the plays she had in mind before she ushered them back into the changeroom, allowing the Aston Villa men to have their time out on the grass.

______________________________________________________________

“I would know that bum anywhere.”

“Hello Jack, nice to see you too. I’ve been well thanks, so has my bum. I’ll let my face know you said hello, too,” I spoke as I stood up from my crouched position, where I had been tying my laces.

“Just kiddin love, actually no I'm not - I love your bum. But I am happy to see your beautiful face too!” Jack spoke, as he pulled me into a hug - wrapping both of his arms around my head, effectively pushing me further into his chest.

“You saw my face a couple days ago when we were on FaceTime!”

“I saw your bum a few days ago on FaceTimetoo, doesn’t mean I'm not happy to see it!”

“So that's why you like helping me do my laundry, so you can see my backside as I reach into the machine!”

“Now I’m not a religious man, but I have prayed to God a few times that you drop a sock or two riiiiiiight in front of the camera.” He laughed back at my shocked expression.

“Jack! You are ridiculous! Stop being such a perv! No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend” I play-shouted at him as I smacked him with my rolled up matchday program.

“I’m holding out for you, my love.”

“Always the joker, Jack. Get out there and prepare for the worst match of your season.”

“Dream on Mils, we’ve got this in the bag.”

“Sure thing Jacky, sure thing.”

I walked further up the tunnel towards the changeroom, getting ready to deliver my strategy talk to the boys.

“Stop looking at my ass, Grealish!” I shouted without turning around. The boisterous laugh that followed my exclamation was enough to know that I was correct. I didn’t need to turn around to be able to predict what the laddish lad was already doing.

60 minutes of football later.

Amelia was correct in saying that Chelsea were going to win the match, her quiet confidence only getting louder and louder as each premier league match went on. She was apprehensive at first to see if her tactics were going to work in the Prem, or if there was to be some compromise on skill due to the fast-paced nature of the game. So far, however, the Chelsea men were quick learners and even quicker to execute.

One thing she wasn’t prepared for, however, was the absolute worldie that Jack had scored just before half-time at the Bridge. There was an element of familiarity in his goal, recognising the play as one of her own. A small smile crossed  her face after he scored, running to celebrate with the away fans before jogging down past the bench and mouthing a quick “all you baby” at her as he moved back into position. She must have told him about it back when she was in Italy, knowing that there was no chance she would have exchanged her trade secrets to an enemy in the same league. It warmed her to know he paid enough attention to her to be able to practice that on his own with his team and execute it flawlessly in a live game.

What Amelia also wasn’t prepared for was for anyone else to recognise the play. Behind her on the bench sat an oddly-inquisitive Ben. He saw the tactic as it was playing out, recognising the run that Jack had to make to put himself in the box at the exact moment that John McGinn crossed the ball. Better yet, he saw Jack run down the sideline, nowhere near where he should have been, and mouth those words to Amelia. He wanted to know what was going on, was that why she wasn’t ready to commit to him?

Later that same evening.

After a hot shower, Amelia was curled up on the couch, ready to continue the docuseries she was watching the night before when she had an unexpected visitor pop round and confess his feelings to her. Thinking back on the night prior, she was happy that things ended up working out the way they did. Of course she wasn’t exactly thrilled with just how they happened but she could forgive the sweet boy. His intentions were pure and that's not something she was used to. It made her giddy to think about him, and about where things may go in the future.

A ring of her doorbell, almost to the exact hour that it had the night prior, made her get off her couch and walk down the small hall to the front door with a smirk on her face. Expecting to see the same brown-haired, blue-eyed boy that seemed to enjoy ringing her bell after hours. What she saw on the other side, however, was not what she was expecting.

“Jack, what on bloody God’s earth are you doing here?! You should be halfway back to Birmingham by now!”

“Are you gonna let me in love, it’s bloody cold out ‘ere tonight. Come on, shove over,” The slightly-less-than-6-foot-tall footballer commandeered her hallway, shutting the door behind him and locking it. This,  coupled with his overnight duffle bag hanging off his shoulder let Amelia know that he had no other plans but to stay with her.

“Sure, Jack, I suppose you can come in and spend the night crashing in my spare room.”

“Now now, don’t pretend that you’re not happy to see me, love. And a spare room? I believe you promised me a cuddle.”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile at the charming young man. Feeling the blush start to spread from her chest up her neck and across her cheeks, she quickly turned and walked into her kitchen, calling out over her shoulder to ask if he wanted a cup of tea. Feeling a sense of deja vu from the night before, she shook her head and reminded herself that this is nothing like the night before. How could it have been - there was no kissing involved.

“Was that a blush I saw? Do I make you nervous, Amelia?” Somehow, Jack had moved to be right behind the girl at her kitchen counter. Hands on her hips, chest to her back, lips to her ear. Amelia felt herself freeze, and then relax into his hands.

“Jack, please, I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not, Mils? You can feel it, too. The tension through the screen’s enough to force me into a cold shower most nights.”

And just like the night before, the whistle of the kettle was the only piercing sound resonating around the townhouse. Whilst all she saw was truth behind Ben’s eyes, Jack's eyes were clouded with lust and affection. Just once, she could give in, right?

Leaning her head back to rest on his right shoulder, he attached his lips to the left side of her neck. Hands rolling from the side of her hips, to underneath her shirt, feeling the small navel piercing between his fingers and smirking.

“Didn’t take you for being the kind of girl to have a piercing, Mils,” He spoke into her collarbone, a small nip to the sensitive skin as the girl continued to focus on her breathing.

“Piercings, Jack. I have more than one” She breathlessly spoke, knowing exactly what she was doing now. The admission of having more than one piercing that he could not see was all of the consent Jack needed to continue his exploration of her body.

“Are you going to let me see them, darling?”

“If you’re lucky.”

“I’d say I'm the luckiest guy in the world right now, especially in this position.”

She was unsure how it had happened, but Jack had pressed her further into the countertop. With her back still to his chest, his waist was at the perfect height to press into the small of her back. His leg had settled between both of her own and his hands had found the bottom of her bralette and were gently caressing her rib cage, desperate to get closer to where he presumed her other piercing was.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Jack,” she breathed out into the air, hot air escaping her lungs to resemble what she felt brewing in the pit of her stomach. Desire.

“Why the bloody hell not?” he mumbled into her sweet spot, where her jaw met her neck.

“Because I've been here before. This is bad.” With her eyes shut, he continued his way down her neck. The fabric of her top shifted so he could slide one of her straps down her arm.

“If it's bad, why does it feel so good? '' Whilst his lips got to work on her collarbone, and his hand was busy toying with the elastic line of her bralette, his other hand began to fiddle with her fingers. Entwining them with his own, the kind of strength she needed to feel to make her next decisions.

Pushing back off of the counter, meaning her ass had pushed right into the part of his body where he wanted her most, Amelia turned around and faced Jack. The two stood there, slightly panting, staring at each other. Amelia being the kind of girl that she is, decided that she wanted to have a little slice of the dominance pie. Maintaining eye contact, she lifted the bottom of her t-shirt over her head and dropped in on the floor, that second piercing now very clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her bralette.

“Come on Jack, aren’t you an athlete? What’s got you so out of breath? I thought you’d be able to last a little longer than some heavy petting.” She taunted at the smirking man, wanting nothing more than to mess up his hair as he nestled himself between her thighs. That's exactly the position that they found themselves in not more than 5 minutes later, this time upstairs in her bedroom.

Throughout the multiple rounds of passion that the two so-called friends shared that night, not once had their lips touched. Of course, her lips had touched parts of him and he had definitely been all over a completely different set of lips a few times (and from a few different positions), but face to face, eye to eye, nose to nose - their lips had never met. That told Amelia enough to set her anxiety on fire. Had she just gotten involved with a carbon-copy of the man she left behind in Italy?

The regret seeped through her bones and settled into her heart by the time that the Villa boy had fallen asleep next to her. What had she done? This was not the girl Amelia wanted to be anymore. She was done being the girl that was loved only when the lights went out. She wanted love under the sun, she wanted breakfast by the river, double dates, family parties. She wanted the kind of love that you could never try and hide even if you wanted to. She knew that this wasn’t what Jack was able to offer her. She was grateful for their friendship, she truly was, he made her laugh more than most people but for the first time in a very long time, she was certain that that's all she wanted from him.

Part 11. | parte undicesima

[puffedcheeksx]

a personal essay on why i love Dr Romantic 2

Dr. Romantic 2 was the kdrama that found me at my darkest. You see, I ended 2019 leaving from what I once thought was my dream job. Hoping to start 2020 anew, I've been in search for some sort of inspiration and in those attempts, trying to fill that void through kdramas. I never even meant to watch DR2, even if at that time it was already trending on my personal twitter feed (also, it was the last week of cloy and i was determined to catch up to it). And I believe it was the universe itself sending to me a Viu app reccomendation and this youtube video below of Cha Eunjae and Seo Woojin meeting again at Doldam.

It wasn't even a fluffy scene for that matter (and tbh I didn't even know it was Ahn Hyoseop who was the ML, I thought it was Dr Bae from this clip i'm sorry *cries*) but I found myself intrigued with how Woojin looked at Eunjae that I decided to give this series a try.

And man, was I goner within the first five minutes. It surprised me how much I enjoyed watching this, when a medical drama wasn't my go-to genre.

As someone who hasn't watched the first season prior, it was a journey for me to discover Master Kim's personality along with Seo Woojin and Cha Eunjae. And just like the great surgeon Master Kim was, he was able to cut right through my heart saying the things I needed to hear. In a way, Master Kim helped me to stitch myself up that I found myself praying to have a mentor like him each time after finishing an episode.

I also enjoyed watching how they explored each of the characters as well. I found my younger self in Yoon Ahreum, innocent and curious, joining the Doldam team in hopes to be as accomplished and bright as the rest. I found my college self in Park Euntak in his seemingly blind faith towards Master Kim and later second guessing his decisions later in the series. I also found myself in Dr Park's legalistic views, and wondering wasn't it best to play the safe side but also secretly envious of Master Kim's bravery. I loved Nurse Oh's voice of reason. I loved how broken Seo Woojin was, and how he never let his past define his present, striving to live a good life.

But mostly, I fell in love and found myself most in Cha Eunjae and cried buckets with her. Cha Eunjae and I were similar in a lot of ways : spoiled, sheltered, would make lots of excuses and obsessing about being good enough. While Cha Eunjae was initially presented as a weak character, I liked how she didn't pity herself. She was a fast learner, picking herself up growing little by little throughout the episodes with hits and misses along the way. I loved how Cha Eunjae owned up to her own life. Technically, coming from a well-off, doctor affiliated family she could easily pull-off some strings right from ep 1 when she was sent off to Doldam Hospital. But she faced the consequences of her actions head on and allowed herself to be of service during her time there.

Just like Cha Eunjae I also had my share of situation based anxiety attacks in a weirdly ironic case as well. I understood where she came from, Cha Eunjae knew what she had to do and that she was capable, but there was so many background noise that would make her doubt and blank out the last minute. Watching Cha Eunjae grow became a vision for me to what I would like to become.

I cried with her when Master Kim told her off saying she should quit becoming a doctor, as it was a scene that hit close to home. And I cried all the more when she firmly said no when Master Kim said "If I told you to quit would you really do it?"

And of course there was the Seo Woojin and Cha Eunjae love line. I am always a fan of the slowburn trope but I believe that it is quite tricky to present a slowburn love story-- too slow and it might feel dragged on, too quick and it may lose its essense. And Ahn Hyoseop and Lee Sungkyung, with all the minimum scenes & skinships that they have, delivered it with pure magic. I loved, loved how their love story was more-than-it-meets-the-eye kind of thing. There was meaning behind the things they said, and didn't say. Their push-and-pull was satisfyingly good, that whenever Woojin makes an indirect confession I felt as breathless as Cha Eunjae was. Being deprived from the typical lovey-dovey scenes, their latter scenes then became so much sweeter especially with those little caressing Woojin did. *blushing intensifies*

Most of all, I loved how Seo Woojin wasn't some kind of hero/prince charming for Cha Eunjae and how Cha Eunjae wasn't the catalyst for Seo Woojin's character growth. Rather, Doldam hospital gave them the tools to grow, and they picked themselves on their own, with each of them occasionally offering each other support when needed to. They were truly relationship goals!

It's been over a year now simping over this kdrama (and a year since I joined kdrama stan twitter because of said drama), and I hope that we wouldn't wait too long for season 3 ❤️

[happi-tree]

Sixteen

Hello, lovebirds! Here’s a bit of fic that I wrote inspired by @shima-draws‘ BNHA Distortion Link AU from Nexus’ POV! Check out her blog for more info about it. I’ll put the fic under a read more, so continue on if you’re interested! TW for blood and vague, semi-graphic descriptions of corpses.

Midoriya Izuku is 16 years old when his world is ripped out from underneath his feet. 

He awakens to silence - not the peaceful quiet of early mornings that he has become long accustomed to, but to a sheer and utter absence of sound. Not a whisper of birdsong, not a single utterance of cacophony caused by the morning commute traffic in Musutafu. The quiet is eerie, anticipatory, waiting to be shattered, and Izuku gets the distinct feeling that he’s the final character in some horror flick. 

His alarm clock blares “The morning is here!” again in a robotic facsimile of All Might’s voice. Izuku startles, badly, slamming his hand down on the alarm to silence it. A breeze outside grows in intensity, slamming into the walls. The ticking of clocks, the groaning of a house in its death throes, and the rushing of blood in Izuku’s ears are the only sounds now. 

Something is very wrong.

Izuku picks his way across the room to his window, lifting the blinds, and nearly retches at what he sees.

The streets aren’t clogged with cars or buses; the sidewalks are vacant of pedestrians. Instead, the concrete is dyed red with blood, puddles of it seeping into potholes, into gutters. Bodies, for as long as the eye can see, line the walkways and the asphalt at irregular intervals, their eyes unseeing, their mouths open in shock, their forms contorted and still in pools of burgundy-ebony. Newly deceased, the analytic, detached part of Izuku’s brain observes, noting the absence of stench and lack of buzzing flies. 

As much as Izuku desperately wants this to be some horrible nightmare, he knows deep in his bones that this is all too terribly real.

And then he looks up.

Up to the sky, where his fated enemy is silhouetted against the soot-stained crimson of dawn, wreathed in clouds of smoke like the angel of death incarnate. But Izuku knows that this man is far from angelic - there is no mercy in these deaths, no just judgement present in any fiber in his body as he hovers, gloatingly, backlit by the red-orange sun. 

All for One, in all his age, has never been a creature of compassion.

With the taste of bile and ash in his mouth, Izuku frantically grabs his hoodie from where it lays across the back of his desk chair, shrugging it on. Throwing open his closet door, he pulls on the boots of his Hero costume, barely managing to fumble their laces into a proper knot and swiping his gloves from where they sit draped over his tool belt. 

One for All rockets to the surface of his skin within milliseconds, his racing heartbeat and heightened anxiety calling the Quirk to activation in record time, and Izuku breaks down the front door of his house, sprinting into the streets of the world on its final day with eight souls singing across the lightning in his veins.

It is not enough.

-

Midoriya Izuku is 16 years old when he opens his eyes to the Beyond for the first time. 

The confusion only lasts for a few moments before memories - billions of them, thoughts that are not his, were never meant to be his - shove themselves into his still-growing mind, flooding his neurons until they threaten to combust. All at once, Izuku knows where he is. Izuku knows what happened to his world; rather, the world that was once his.

Now, Izuku knows everything, and it is with absolute, mind-numbing certainty that he knows that his universe is gone.

He is the sole survivor, the lone occupant of this plane of in-betweens, where both nothing and everything is real. He feels at once impossibly heavy and weightless, power sitting leaden in his bloodstream, pulsating in time with his paradoxically-beating heart, countless lives weighted and compressed upon his mind, their taste like copper on his tongue. 

Tears flow freely from his eyes, saline globules suspended in the not-air of the Beyond as he weeps and as he feels. Seven billion lifetimes of emotions flash through his mind’s eye like an old film reel, impossibly fast, impossibly hard to differentiate. Love and heartbreak and joy and sorrow and anger and contentment and longing and desperation and too many other feelings to name overcome him, and Izuku cries out, his strangled voice the only sound amidst the deep shifting colors of the void, utterly human and utterly alone. 

Even heroes need to cry, sometimes, Todoroki’s voice seems to whisper to him, and Izuku’s body wrenches with the force of his sobbing, clinging to himself and wishing beyond anything for the phantom comfort of a friendly hand upon his shoulders. 

How can I ever call myself a Hero when I failed my entire universe?

After a time - perhaps seconds, perhaps centuries - Izuku’s cries pitter out, and he straightens enough that his feet find contact with something solid. Opening his eyes once more, he finds that his tears, spheres of liquified crystal, lay suspended across the not-space, twinkling like so many stars. For all the pain that they had caused him, Izuku finds beauty in their sorrow, trying not to tear up again as he thinks of the shifting constellations of his homeland, their lights forever extinguished. 

The memories threaten to overturn his mind again, but Izuku holds firm, pushes past the grief and the sorrow. He is the sole occupant of the Beyond, the Nexus, a realm that oversees every universe, every timeline. The weight of countless worlds rests on his shoulders now, and Izuku cannot allow himself to crumble beneath it any longer. Infinite power - so much that the feeble, human part of his mind can scarcely begin to comprehend its beginning or its end - resides in his soul, stitched into the fabric of his being. 

<If I could not be the Hero my own world needed,> Izuku speaks into the void, curling his hands into fists, <maybe I can be the Hero that the rest of them deserve.>

So many lives are in need of protection, in need of saving. And now, here I am, with the power to look after every single one of them. What kind of Hero would I be if I didn’t use this power to help them? For the first time in a long time, Izuku laughs - a hollow, broken laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

<Plus ultra.> Izuku says to the unspeaking, unblinking void. He cracks his knuckles, takes a deep breath, and then gets to work overseeing the multiverse. 

-

Midoriya Izuku is still 16 years old when he feels the first disturbance in the Beyond. 

The new presence feels scarcely like a blip on his radar, as quick and meaningless as the blink of an eye. But after centuries and centuries of absolutely nothing, a spark of excitement - an emotion almost foreign to him, now - makes itself known in the cavity of his chest, bright and white-hot. Alongside it, an equally strange feeling: hope. 

The fabric of the Beyond bends itself around him, malleable and fluid as it bows to his whims and carries him to the source of the disturbance.

Izuku watches as a corner of his world blurs green. A figure, human, falling endlessly, glitching in and out between this plane and the one to which they belong. Reaching out with his mind, Izuku nearly reels back in shock with what he discovers.

Because the figure trapped between realms is him.

Well, one of him, Izuku should say. Across the multiverse are countless Midoriya Izukus. For whatever reason, this one seems to have gotten himself into a bit of trouble.

A constant for all Izukus, getting into trouble, he muses as his other semi-conscious self falls infinitely. 

Probing further, it looks like this particular Izuku is from a world quite similar to his own. Time slows, solid in his grasp, to allow him to decipher the teal of his Hero outfit, bits of blood scattered across his freckles from a previous fight. Clearly, this Izuku had no intention of coming here, and is likely feeling very out of sorts. How he got here in the first place is a wonder, but not for long.

Memories of his double flash through his mind. The patrol assignment. Uraraka, Todoroki, Ojirou, Shigaraki, Kurogiri’s faces come to mind in consecutive flashes, and his knees nearly buckle at the sight of their familiarity. One for All activating in tandem with Kurogiri’s portal, disturbingly reminiscent of the moment that ripped the fabric of his homeland apart.

Ah, there it is.

Izuku’s power comes to grasp the connection tethering his doppelgänger to the Beyond, and he hears a gasp. 

Well, that wouldn’t do. Not that Izuku has ever seen this happen before, but he has the sinking feeling that shoving his other self back into his own universe will not erase the connection entirely. There’s something wild about it, unstable. Dangerous.

Izuku walks closer to his double’s side, time grinding to a halt.

<I’m sorry for this, but you’ll likely see more of me,> he says to himself, taking in the other Izuku’s gaping expression and wide eyes, imprinting the familiar lines of his Hero suit into his vision alongside the spattering of freckles and the smears of dirt. 

<For now, though, I’ll try to get you home. You’re doing so well, you know. I’ve been watching.>

Gently, Izuku presses a fingertip to his doppelgänger’s forehead and watches as he reappears through the tear into his own timeline.

A universe away, provisional Hero Deku returns to his friends with shaking hands, a phantom warmth between his brows, and an odd feeling of recognition in his chest.

-

Nexus is 16 years old when he sees the sky again for the first time in millennia. 

[macmoneyo]

Tools for cutting and marking

When you look at your sewing pattern guidelines, you will see that you are often need to transfer some of the pattern marks onto the cloth. If you've been wondering about the finest fabric marking tools for sewing, keep reading! You may realise that you already have some or all of the items needed to begin a quilt project after reading this section (and the next). know more

Tools for cutting

Scissors- If you're reading this guide you undoubtedly have an excellent set of fabric scissors. Although a rotary cutter makes it easier to cut the cloth into smaller pieces, scissors can still be used.

Rotary cutters are a must-have item for any quilter, and you should have at least one. Rotary fabric cutting is quick and simple! Rotary cutters, like scissors, come in a variety of brands, sizes, and blade sizes/types. If at all feasible, try to drive one before purchasing.

Cutting mats - You cannot use a rotary cutter without a cutting mat below your cloth. It is preferable to have one that is "self mending" (cut marks erase) so that it lasts longer. There are several different sizes to choose from. You must select which size is suitable for your creative environment.

Quilt rulers - A quilt ruler, in addition to a rotary cutter and a cutting mat, is the third component to effective cutting. There is a large variety of rulers available - some are considered conventional, while others are developed for a specific purpose. If you're not sure, ask your local fabric or quilt store for a demonstration. To begin, we propose the most common sizes: 6′′ x 24′′ and/or 6′′ x 12′′.

Plastic template - There may be times when you don't want (or need) to buy a specified size ruler for a quilt project. A cheap and simple approach is to use template plastic, which is stronger than paper and can be used like a ruler to cut out particular forms. To know more about these tools click here.

Tools for marking

In quilting, different marking instruments are used at different phases of the process. You can use a variety of marking pens or pencils while cutting forms, drawing stitch lines, and so on. Fabric marking pens or pencils (water soluble, air soluble, etc.), tailor's chalk, mechanical pencils, and soap stone are examples.

[all-that-tmnt-jazz]

How the boys act when their S.O have a fight with them and tells hurtfull things to her and he goes to apologize?

I am so sorry this tool so long- I was totally at a loss on what Mikey would have to say in order to hurt someone’s feelings- he such a sweetheart.

Warnings: Swearing.

Incarnation: Bayverse

Extra Info: N/A

Leo:

He realized what he said the moment it came out of his mouth

He knew it wasn’t true, and yet…

You had grabbed your sweatshirt and left the Lair

He tried to follow you, but his brothers stopped him and asked what he did

Splinter breaks Leo away from his brothers to talk to him

Leo told his father what he had said

“I told her I didn’t want her in my life because I shouldn’t be the one who loves her…”

Splinter was genuinely shocked his son would say something like that

Leo waited for a couple of days before he went to your apartment

He had to find the perfect words to paint the perfect image of what was on is mind

It was nearly 2 AM when he showed up at your bedroom window

Of course, he had a bouquet of brilliant blue daisies in hand

“Y/N, I… I’m sorry. I was scared- I am scared. I don’t want to lose you, but I know I can’t be there for you all the time like you know you want. I… I’m sorry for what I said, I know I hurt you… I… I have no explanation.”

He wouldn’t- couldn’t- look you in the eyes as he spoke

You knew this one was genuine and that he was wearing his heart was on his sleeve

After a while of silence, he looked up at you.

The cerulean blue of his eyes never ceased to take your breath away…

You hugged him.

“I accept your apology.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere,” he would say, pulling away from you

He’d look into your eyes as if the answer lied within them

“I accept your apology, but it still hurt. A lot.”

He would bow his head, guilt rising in his throat

“I know. I’m sorry… For everything.”

You invite him in and you two talk over a pot of tea.

It’s going to be okay

Raph:

Raph knows he’s explosive. He knows his emotions get the better of him.

He just never thought they would around you

He couldn’t catch up with you as you run out of the Lair, angry tears on your cheeks.

Once he reached the entrance of the Lair, he stopped. He knew you didn’t want him. He knew he fucked up.

He didn’t know what to do. So, he went to Mikey, of anyone

Mikey asks Raph what he said.

“Why does everything have to be about you? You’re an egocentric, self-centered bitch! What would it take for you to actually care about me for once? I’ve put everything into helping you and this is what I get?”

Mikey is actually shocked.

Mikey knows that Raph needs to blow off some steam, so he suggests that Raph goes to his work-out room

Raph agrees and ends the night with bloodied knuckles from over-using his boxing dummy

It’s the next day before he even thinks about apologizing

Once he thinks of it, though, he knows he needs to do it fast. He is out of the Lair before anyone wakes up

He stops by April’s apartment- despite the early hour- begging her to get a specific drink from your favorite coffee shop (He’s literally known your order for months)

He then finds a way to get a bouquet of your favorite flowers

Next thing he knows, he is on the fire escape of your apartment, knocking on your window, not even sure what he’s going to say.

He’s sure that no words can fix what he told you, even if he spoke forever

But when you open the window, he almost runs off

He hands you the drink and the flowers, his hands shaking

There’s a long, tense silence

“I shouldn’t have called you anything that I did. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

But you knew an apology from him was few and far between, and yet each was more genuine than the last

You got out onto the fire escape with him. You both hear people waking up and starting their days

“I accept your apology. Just… Talk to me next time.”

You had never seen him cry so much as he did that morning.

(A/N: Don is low-key me)

Donnie:

Donnie barely ever lets his anger blow up as it did

You were just offering him a cup of coffee, and he let that fry his last nerve

That’s why you left the Lab, left the Lair, cursing under your breath.

Donnie broke down the moment he saw you turn on your heel to leave the Lab. He thought about what he said

“Can’t you see I’m busy? I have an entire city to protect, I can’t be yours forever.”

He knew you needed to take time to breathe, but he knew he needed to apologize

He just didn’t know what needed to happen first and not knowing bothered him

He just sat and wallowed in his Lab, letting his mind get to him

Until Leo found him splayed out on the floor listening to “Bohemian Rhapsody” belting “Mama, ooh. I don't want to die, I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.”

“Donnie, get up.”

“No, I’m depressed.”

“I was just on the phone with Y/N to ask what happened.”

Donnie looked at Leo and sat up

Leo says that he had never heard you sound so upset. He also tells Donnie to get his ass in gear and fix the problem he caused

Only then is when Donnie got up, promising to fix it

Once Leo leaves, Donnie picks up his phone

“Hey, Chief Vincent. It’s Donatello. A pretty big ask, real quick. In forty-five minutes, do you think that you could talk the Empire State Building into flashing the following message in Morse Code with purple lights? You can? I owe you one.”

From there, he rushed around the Lab, gathering all of the pictures that you two took together, putting them into a large album as he did so.

Then, he went to your apartment and found you on the fire escape of your apartment, reading

He jumped onto it, offering his hand.

“I need to show you something. It’s my apology.”

You agree, rather nervously, and he literally whisks you away. The next thing you know, you’re near the Empire State Building. A moment later, it starts flashing a message in Morse code using purple lights:

“I am sorry. I love you, Y/N. Could you turn around?”

You turn around and he’s showing you each page of the album, explaining each memory in detail.

“I was wrong, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I will be yours forever if you let me.”

“I accept your apology.”

And, of course, you let him be yours

Mikey:

Okay, neither of you even know what started the argument

But next thing he knew, you were in tears and had a foot out the door and he was on his shell on the floor

It took hours for the memories to actually click into place for him

He basically clung to Raph when he realized what he had done

“Mikey, what the hell is going on?”

“I yelled at her because I thought she was pushing me away… I called her selfish…”

Raph didn’t know his littlest brother had it him to say something so harsh

Raph took Mikey and hid in their room so he could hold his littlest brother

Mikey definitely needed it- so much so, he fell asleep

He woke up a few hours later to Raph knitting a beanie in orange yarn and adding the occasional star using white yarn

“What are you doing?”

“Making Y/N a hat so you can apologize. Tell her you pestered me into doing it.”

Raph finished the last few stitches, then handed the beanie to Mikey

“You better be ready to apologize to her- you’re literally miserable.”

Mikey took the hat and ran off

He stopped by a small florist and managed to get away with a bouquet of sunflowers, marigolds, and orange roses

Then he found his way to your apartment

“What is it, Mikey?”

“Y/N. I… I’m sorry, I… I was wrong. You’re anything but selfish… I just missed spending time with you.”

You couldn’t stand the sad look in his puppy-dog eyes

He handed you the flowers and the beanie.

“I know you wanted a new hat, so I made Raph knit one.”

You accepted both and immediately put the beanie on

“Thank you, Mike.”

He smiled weakly.

“I also accept your apology. Work has been overusing me.”

He beamed, and it only grew more when you hugged him

[violetjedisylveon]

Not Homesick(12)

Summary: Echo and Omega help Freyu make some food. I don't really know how to explain this, Freyu isn't acting normal and she decided to make food.

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: swearing, drinking, underaged by our standards since Freyu's 19 but legal in Star Wars galaxy, some medical stuff at the beginning. Some suggestive stuff at the end, it has nothing to do with Freyu being drunk I promise!

A/N: This is taking place between episode 10 and 11. And I have made a descion; ES-02, the one of Crosshair's imperial soilders who didn't get killed by him and survived, is lesbian. And she got a nickname from Chora before she joined on with the Empire.

Amnesia List link

________________________________________________________________________________

"You didn't need to do that, Freyu." He told the angry Pantoran in front of him as calmly as he could.

She was a very difficult patient.

She was holding her left arm in pain. Blood that had pooled between her fingers was dripping onto the ground. She glared at him with anger and pained tears in her eyes.

"You should have been more careful!" She spat.

The matter at hand was partly his fault. He'd underestimated the time he'd need to remove the pins that had been holding Freyu's now healed broken bones in place and the sedative he'd used hadn't lasted long enough, resulting in Freyu ripping her arm away from the table and kicking Tech away from her.

He'd also made several other guesses that turned out to be wrong, such as Freyu's actual health. She never stuck around long enough in the makeshift infirmary for anything other than quick checks on her arm, which he'd respected.

He thought he knew enough about basic Pantoran biology to be safe but he'd been wrong. Freyu also hadn't has the usual reaction to being underdosed with anesthetic, she'd looked like she was sleepy despite the fact she'd been in a lot of pain.

Maybe Pantorans have a different reaction? He wondered.

It was plausible, he didn't know as much as a doctor from her own species would for obvious reasons and the Republic's information on the Pantoran biology had really only been the beginnings of it.

"I'll give you another dose, just sit down so we can finish." He told her.

He motioned for her to sit down while preparing another dose of anesthetic. She refused the option with a violent shake of her head.

"Oh, I am not letting you screw up again. I can do this myself." She snapped.

Tech sighed and moved his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Freyu, you can't do it yourself, let me-" He broke off as an invisible force pushed him away from her.

Yet another reason why Freyu was a difficult patient.

The Force.

From what he'd gathered from the few times he'd seen her engaging in anything Jedi-like, she either wasn't very strong with it, or very strong but untrained and uncontrolled, thus resulting in a sort of self limiting of her powers.

He suspected the latter was more likely.

The pins dropped into a small tool tray with a metalic clank. Freyu smiled proudly and shot an 'I told you so' look at Tech. He rolled his eyes and grabbed anesthetic spray and stitches.

"Let me close it. I promise I'll be more careful this time." He said.

Freyu sighed exasperatedly and held out her arm. Tech didn't mind much, he figured it was mostly just an act she put up to protect herself. Acting, sounding and looking tough and threatening was a tried and true survival tactic for those living in the Outer Rim.

Her irritability and reaction to subjects she really didn't like seemes to be some sign of repressed trauma to him but he wouldn't push, they'd all seen what happened the other week when she'd punched Hunter in the face.

Things were still bumpy since the two always found a way to bud heads over something. Usually it was stupid, petty things.

Other than those small problems, everything was going fine. Cid seemed to like Freyu more than she liked him and his brothers. Maybe it was because Freyu didn't cost her much money and she was surprisngly curtious torwads the Trandoshan.

And Freyu kept the types that even Cid didn't want hanging around her bar with threats and execution of violence. Someone was usually drunk.

Tech was snapped out of his thoughts when Freyu pulled her arm away. Oh. I'm done.

"Had a fantastic time Tech, let's do it again never." Freyu said sarcastically.

"Actually Freyu, you have some health problems that we should take a look at." He said.

"I don't have physical problems but go ahead." Freyu crossed her arms and waited.

"The simple fact is, you're too light, you don't have enough muscle or fat tissue-"

"Pantorans have a different density, afterall, it wouldn't be very helpful to be heavy and on open cold fields. I'm doing just fine." She said, shutting him down instantly.

Tech shot her a glare.

"You are also lacking several essential vitamins and minerals, ones I know you need. There's also signs of delayed growth and childhood malnutrition." He said.

"One, the food you have here is shit, and two, not everybody grew up with three meals a day that were specifically made to help them grow right." She pointed out.

Tech mostly ignored her comment and flipped through his medical notes on the Pantoran.

"I need you to find some solution for it, your Force abilities also seem to drain you of certain minerals faster so I suggest you find some way to work them into your diet. I have a list for you." He held it out to her.

She took it with a large, exaggerated sigh and looked it over.

"I have to go out to get this." She said.

Tech nodded, "You've been dying to leave. Have a nice time." He waved her off.

"Thanks Tech." She said as she ran out of the room.

XXX

"Hey! That's cheating!" Wrecker shouted.

"How is me winning cheating, Wrecker? Your logic doesn't make much sense." Omega argued with a slightly smug look on her face.

"You're getting tips from the fox!" He pointed to Boa sitting on Omega's lap.

"What?"

"It's like a Jedi, it can read my mind and it tells you what I'm thinking." He said.

Omega cracked up.

"If that were true then Hunter wouldn't have let her in here." She objected.

Hunter put an arm on his brother's shoulder, he found the whole situation amusing.

"Don't be a sore loser, just let the kid win." He said.

"I'm not letting her win." Wrecker gumbled.

He crossed his arms and left to pout. Poorly stifled giggles followed as Boa chirped and looked at Omega expectantly.

"Hey, you weren't doing anything." Omega scolded.

"In her mind she was helping by confusing Wrecker into thinking she was doing everything." Freyu said as she entered the room.

"The key is to watch her fur, if it starts getting curling then she's doing something, and her feelers twist around themselves."

She was in a much better mood than she had been earlier.

She walked over and, gently, pulled the fox up by her scruff. Boa whined and groaned at her, Freyu stared and nodded.

"She wants a treat. And she knows she didn't really do anything but she still thinks she deserves one." Freyu placed her pet back down on Omega's lap.

The girl got up, with insistence from Boa, to find a tasty treat for both of them.

"And no fast food, last time you did that she ended up sick." Freyu called after.

She turned to Hunter, the clone already bracing for the inevitable arguing and headache that usually followed her arrival.

"Tech said I'm clear to leave and I'm going to pick up some food." She told him.

"We have food." He said, arguing with her words on instinct.

Okay, so it was a little agressive but that's just what he'd been doing when talking to her. And they had plenty of ration bars, not military, just standard worker ones.

"Ration bars aren't food. And you only have human ration bars, it's a bit harder to find ones that suit other species." Freyu replied in a surprisingly calm manner.

She hasn't shouted yet... Did Tech do something wrong? This is weird... Why isn't she angry?

"Don't worry, this won't cause any problems with Cid for you." She added with a wink.

"Take someone with you, never go out alone." Hunter stated the biggest rule he had on autopilot, forgetting for a second the person with him wasn't a child and could beat the living shit out of someone with her bare hands.

If she was offended by it, she didn't let it show, she was acting weird today.

"I'm not Omega but sure, I'll take Iri." Freyu said.

He caught the hint of amusement in her voice and sly smile on her face.

"You can't take the bird." Hunter told her lightheartedly.

"Fine, I'll take Echo." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"That better?"

"Don't die and try to be back in one rotation if you plan on leaving the planet." Hunter said.

"Thanks."

Freyu ran to the slot machines in the back that Echo would be, 'fixing' at this time. He didn't notice when she came up behind him.

She tapped on his shoulder until he turned around.

"C'mon Eyayah, we're gonna get food." She told him.

He stared at her for a few seconds, she was acting different today, even though she looked the same, same single braid in her purple hair and same red shirt contrasting against her blue skin. Her fingers were tapping again her leg and she was tapping her toes impatiently, she was a lot more fidgety than normal.

I should probably just go without asking any questions. He thought.

"Okay, sure." He detached his scomp arm from the slot machine and got up.

It'll probably be better than hanging around here all day.

"Excellent." Freyu clapped her hands.

Her little hand clap thing was an obvious habit of hers. He thought it was kinda funny and maybe just a little bit cute?

Before he knew it, he was being dragged out of Cid's and towards the markets.

XXX

"There something specific you're looking for?" The alien vendor asked Freyu, who was carefully examining the various spices and herbs for sale.

Echo shifted his weight around as she started speaking in a trade language spoken by the vendor's species. He didn't know excatly what it was but it was vaugly human in shape. The vendor's demeanor imedeatly improved and he began happily speaking with Freyu.

She was asking for something(maybe?), the vendor nodded and held out a small potted plant with a fragrant aroma. She nodded and exchanged it with a few credits. The plant looked like one of the plants he'd seen on Massanii in her forest.

"What's that?" He asked curiously.

"Just a plant I like. We're also going to get some fruit and spices." She said.

Maybe it was the lighting or his imagination but it looked like there was the tiniest bit of a blush on her face. It made her chilly blue skin turn more of a purple color. It was kinda cute.

"Is there a reason you don't want to tell me what you've got planned?" He asked, leaning in a little bit.

The almost imedeate angry, flustered look he got caused him worry. He'd seen people make that same look before usually when- Was I doing his face again?

Freyu turned away from him with a huff. "Yes. And I won't be telling you that either." She shot back, her blush hadn't exactly faded.

Echo shrugged. I tried. I don't know how you did it so easily... I hope your happy and safe... wherever you are now.

Freyu carefully tucked the plant away and pulled out her holopad. She wasn't really hiding it and from what Echo could see, it was written in a mix of Pantoran, Mando'a and Mass, the language of Massanii, so he couldn't really understand it. He was never the best at Mando'a anyway.

"Where are we going next?" He asked as they started walking again.

"I'm looking for Muja fruit, Blumfruit, Koja nuts, pecons, Marshberries and Hesch melons." She read off the list as she walked into a busy street.

A speeder honked at her, Echo grabbed her arm and pulled her back right as the speeder went by in front of her. She stared at the street for a second then turned to Echo.

"Can you let go now? You're cutting off the circulation to my hand." She said.

"You almost got run over! Why are you so calm?" Echo raised his voice.

Freyu rolled her golden eyes and adopted a slightly smug look.

"I have precognition, remember, I knew it wasn't going to hit me." She reminded.

"Just be more careful." He advised.

"Uh huh, sure." She pulled away from him and crossed the street.

Echo caught up and walked along side her. She suddenly grabbed the tip of his scomp arm like it was a hand and pulled him around a corner.

"This way! I think I know something you'll like!" She said over her shoulder.

She dragged him over to a stand that was selling some kind of sweet berry treat. The smell was so sweet it made his stomach rumble.

Freyu chuckled and gave him a little nudge with her elbow.

"Someone's hungry!" She teased with a little laugh.

Echo felt weirdly self conscious looking at her, he crossed his arms and turned away from her so he wouldn't have to look at her anymore.

"Not like I've eaten anything today." He complained.

"Don't worry, I didn't drag us off course just to tease you." She said with a playful punch to his upper arm.

He turned back in time to see her buying a big paper bag of the treats and two smaller ones. She thanked the baker then held one of the extras out to him.

"Uh, thanks." He thanked her awkwardly.

She mumbled something that sounded like you're welcome but she already had a mouth full of the sweet.

The outside was coated in a thick layer of sugar which was covering some sort of frosting. Echo sniffed it suspiciously. It doesn't smell dangerous, it smells really good actually... His stomach grumbled again, much louder this time.

"It's not poison, just eat it!" Freyu said through her chewing.

Echo got that weird, embarrassed feeling again, it was like a million eyes were watching him. He took a small bite, just to be sure nothing was wrong with it.

It was the best thing he'd ever fucking tasted.

"Kriffing hell this is good!" He exclaimed while stuffing a bigger bite into his mouth.

"Clones really do love sugar!" Freyu laughed.

"Whadya mean?"

"Maatsu told me clones love sugar. His troops loved it so much that he added flavores syrups and sugared stuff to their rations. And they spent almost all their credits on sweets." She explained.

"They got credits? Clones never got paid." Echo frowned.

He'd never been paid before or after the citidal and General O'asisk had died before the citadal mission waa even thought of.

"Yeah, he paid them himself with the money he had from being part of the Planetary Defense Force." She stopped in her tracks and stared up at him.

"Did your commanders not pay you?" She asked with her golden eyes wide open.

"No clone ever got paid by the Republic." Echo muttered bitterly.

"Oh." Then he was right about that too.

"Let's move onto a less depressing subject?" Freyu suggested.

"Sure." Echo agreed as he shoved the last of the sugary treat into his mouth.

"So uh... Do you have ears or is that thing used instead of them?" She pointed up at the implant around his head.

"Uh no, I still have ears, they just don't work very well because of, well I kinda got caught in an explosion so," He paused and pointed to his scomp arm and other cybernetics.

"I can hear it's just harder and everything is lot duller." He explained a bit awkwardly.

She'd hardly beaten around the bush and gotten directly to the poiny with her question. Most people tried to ignore his cyborg nature.

"And it helps me get into things I'm not supposed to." He added with a whirl of his scomp link.

"Hey! We both blew up!" Freyu exclaimed suddenly.

"y-Yeah I guess so." He gave her a confused look.

Her face flushed and she looked away in embarrassment.

"Sorry, it just kinda popped into my head and I blurted it out." She apologized sheepishly.

She was giving him a sorta nervous smile that was kinda cute.

Before he could say anything, she spotted something else and ran ahead, yelling for him to keep up.

XXX

"We're back! Anybody home?" Freyu shouted as she and Echo came back into Cid's.

Hunter imedeatly covered his mouth and nose, whatever she had with her was making a powerful stench.

"Yes, and get rid of whatever you have, it's making my nose burn." He grumbled.

"They're called spices and I'm cooking with them." Freyu said as she moved towards Cid's good kitchen with the food.

Omega ran up with a curious and excited expression.

"Can I help you with cooking?" She asked shyly.

"Course you can Meggie, you still remeber what I taught you, right?" Freyu patted Omega's head gently when she nodded.

"Excellent." She went into the kitchen with Echo and Omega behind her.

She set down a few of the bags and set two aside on an empty shelf. Cid never minded when she did stuff in her kitchen, she always cleaned up and usually asked first.

She got out potatoes, carrots, some other vegtables and started a pot of water boiling on the stove.

"First we peel the skin off the potatoes, you can leave them on but I like to make it this way. We'll use the skins later." Freyu explained while demonstrating the proper way to peel to Omega.

"Echo, there's some Mustafar peppers in the second bag over there, their big, red and orange. I need you to cut them down the middle from stem to base then put them in the oven face up." She instructed.

"Okay." I'll do my best...

While Echo did know the basics of cooking as most clones did for part of their survival training, he knew he was not the best cook in any way. He never really had any skill in the culinary field.

He got the peppers out and set them up to be cut. Wait, how am I supposed to hold this? He had the knife in his hand and the pepper rested against his scomp but it kept rolling around it when he tried to cut.

"Just tape the knife to your scomp and hurry up." Freyu told him after seeing him struggle long enough.

"Oh." Why didn't I think of that?

Freyu rolled her eyes as Echo fumbled around behind her. Omega giggled and offered to help him, the offer was accepted. As Freyu kept cutting potatoes, an idea came to her and she decided to cheat a little.

She lifted one up with the Force and pulled the skin off cleanly and perfectly.

"Whoa! Where did you learn that?" Omega asked.

"I literally just tried it for the first time." Freyu let out a laugh and did it again.

One of the skins came off with a more jagged tear and took a bit of the potato underneath with it. The rip left looked familiar in a bad way.

She blinked and it was red and she could hear rain.

She blinked again and it was back to normal.

"I shouldn't do this too much..." She said, voicing the private thoughts outloud.

"Why not?" Omega tilted her head slightly and looked up with big puppy eyes, her hair was wild and loose.

"It'll make me tired faster and... Meggie, you're getting stuff all in your hair." Freyu set what was in her hands down and walked around behind Omega.

She pulled all of the blond hair back in one movement then tied it up into a small bun. Some strands that weren't long enough came out on the sides so she quickly braided then pinned it back on both sides so it was out of the way.

Then she pulled her own already braided hair back and tied it into an incomplete ponytail so the end wouldn't get in anything.

"There, now you won't get messy." She said then looked at Omega's flour covered apron, "Well, your hair anyway."

Echo was just putting the peppers in the oven when Freyu handed him a large greenish brown fruit he'd never seen before.

"Cut that up, carefully, it's pretty smelly." She warned.

"Noted. Sarge! You might want to leave!" Echo called out.

"He already did!" Wrecker shouted.

Freyu started cutting through the long vegtables she'd brought with practiced presicion and speed. She dumped them into a second boiling pot and worked on helping Omega with making the dough.

"For this part, you have to eyeball it to see how much is right." She instructed, taking a handful of flour and mixing it in.

"Why can't we use a measuring cup?" Omega asked while trying to copy.

"This is the way my mom taught me, plus, you never know what you do and don't have, learning how to do it this way can be more helpful. And there's less stuff to clean up after." Freyu told her.

Omeg was oddly silent, Freyu picked up on a sense of sadness and a bit of envy from her young friend. She playfully nudged her with her flour covered elbow.

"What's wrong Meggie?" She asked.

"You've got twice as many moms as I do, you're really lucky." Omega said.

Despite the obvious low mood of the room, Freyu chuckled.

"I have twice as many moms as a lot of people Meg." She gave her a tiny flick on the nose with a floury hand.

"What do you mean?" Omega looked up with confusion in her honey brown eyes.

"I have two mothers, it's pretty simple." Freyu said.

"Who's Buir then? That's Mando'a for father." Echo asked.

"And mother or parent. It's just like how vod means brother, sister or sibling. Mando'a has a lot of words that fit for any gender. Buir is one of my moms." Freyu explained.

"But how would that work? Doesn't there need to be a male and a female to make a baby?" Omega inquired.

"Not nessicarily, lots of species, including humans, have more than two sexes. And clearly two of the same sex can have a kid." Freyu said with a gesture at herself.

"How did they do that?" Omega's confusion had vanished and was replaced by curiosity.

"Well, it involves a fairly expensive procedure and..." Freyu's voice faded into the mix of sounds in the kitchen.

The cooking process continued for a few hours with several interesting things. Freyu continued explaining things to Omega with occasional checks by Echo to see if it was appropriate. There was a request about learning Mando'a answered with a yes.

Freyu had also let Omega use the oven and stove with minimal supervison. She left Omega use sharp tools and generally let Omega do things she shouldn't do.

The peppers and vegetables Echo had put in the over were taken out and different parts were ground up into a spicy smelling powder while their juices were drained and kept in a jar to be used later, with more spices.

Freyu had gotten to work cutting open the large black and green Hesch melon it released a spicy sweet aroma as the liquid was drained out and mixed with sugars, more spices, a hefty does of ginger, even more sugar and spices.

It was such a strong smell, even a Chagrian could smell it, in Tech's words.

Some of the melon's flesh was being roasted to be ground up for a spice later and some of it was being kept as it was and the last bit was being cooked for every last bit of juice then it'd be ground up.

The whole process made one thing abundantly clear to Echo.

Mandalorians love strong flavor.

XXX

Hunter could smell what was cooking in Cid's from miles away. It just kept getting stronger as he got closer.

Tech was waiting outside when he arrived. A small case that belonged to Hunter in his hand as he scrolled through his datapad.

"You'll be needing these." He held the case out.

Hunter took it and clamped the stopper over his nose. The smell lessed to a much more managable level.

"Everyone still okay?" He asked, wondering what happened while he was out.

"Echo has a knife on his scomp now but he seems fine with it." Tech shrugged.

They went in and found Cid's Parlor empty with Bolo and Ketch passed out in a corner. Cid was closed for the night to get some rest so the place would be empty all night.

The lights had gotten turned on and the tables pushed together. There were two large dishes with the same spicy smell coming from them. Bread rolls and cooked vegetables were near the end and a sickeningly sweet scent was coming from the kitchen.

Hunter overheard a conversation from the back, "I think someone's home, why don't you give them a surprise."

"Okay!" Omega's giddy voice was followed by footsteps as she ran out to meet him.

"Hunter! Tech!" She shouted and gave them both a hug.

"Hey kid, what are you covered in?" Hunter asked as a puff of white came out and stuck to his armor.

"I'd say it's flour." Tech guessed before bending down to her level and patting her head, "You were helping cook, right?".

Omega nodded happily then held out two small paper bags.

"Freyu got these while she was out, Echo said it was really good and I think it's really good too!" She told them.

The treat smelled extremely sweet. Tech glanced at it then at Omega.

"You're not supposed to eat this close to dinner Omega." He scolded.

Omega shrugged, "Freyu said I could and Echo didn't say anything." She said.

Tech frowned and did a calculation on his datapad.

"Omega it would be better if you didn't make a habit out of that, you're digestive system is still adjusting to everything." He advised.

Omega pouted and looked up at Hunter for help. He shook his hand.

"Listen to Tech, he knows what's good for you." He said as Echo came out carrying plates of food with Freyu behind.

"Look who finally showed up!" Freyu said loudly, smirking just a little when Hunter winced.

"You were busy." Tech commented, observing the large amount of food on the tables.

"Well, you told me to get food and I did." Freyu said.

The clone shrugged and tried to take some food, only to get swatted away by a flying fork.

"Nope, you're not eating until you wash your hands, this planet is filthy." Freyu ordered.

She got a strange stare from everyone.

"Do you always wear the same things without changing?" She asked.

"Uh yeah, we don't have a washer on our ship." Wrecker said.

"Oh. That explains a lot actually." She said as she went around with plates.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The largest clone asked.

"Your ship smells like shitty sweat." Freyu paused and pointed towards the fresher, "Now go wash your hands for once please." She rolled her eyes and gave all the clones, save Omega, towards the fresher.

Freyu went back to the kitchen to grab the last of the food while the clones washed up.

When they came back, she was helping Omega fill up her plate. Hunter took a sniff and stepped back, covering his nose.

"I'd be careful, Hunter. Mando'a cuisine is infamously strong." Tech warned.

"I think I figured that out for myself, Tech." Hunter grumbled.

The five clones and Pantoran settled in for a night of eating.

Freyu stayed a bit removed from the group of siblings as they talked. Omega was telling them all about what she'd done that day and everything she'd learn, like how to knead dough and how fun it was to punch it down once risen.

Ad'ika, you're too innocent for this galaxy. She smiled to herself as she watched Omega's grand demonstrations.

"Innocents are the easiest targets, they always die first. War or no war. You have to protect them until they can fight for themselves, you will watch their innocence die." Old, very much unwanted words wormed their way up from the back of her skull and made themselves loudly known.

Her smile soured, she reached out and grabbed the closest bottle to pour herself a drink. It wasn't a dangerous one to her and honestly she didn't care if it did. She had to get it out.

After her sixth drink was finished, her head caught back up with her and she decided against getting too drunk. She got up and went to finish up in the kitchen.

She opened the oven and took in a whiff of the sweet mixed nut and berry aroma wafting from the Uj'alayi (Mando'a, it's a dense nut berry cake). Perfect. Now for the syrup. She grabbed a pair of oven mitts and pulled the hot cake out of the oven.

She moved the simmering pot of syrup off the stove and took a taste. Not sweet enough, or sticky enough. She frowned and dumped more honey, sugar, Hesch Mellon juice and her berry juice mix in.

Then, she let it simmer more and sat back waiting for it to finish. While she was waiting, she took another drink or two, the Uj'alayi had to cool anyway.

Her timer chimed and she took the syrup off the stove. This time, when she tasted it, it tasted perfect.

She tipped the cake pan over and let the Uj'alayi fall out onto a plate before drowning it in the syrup.

She waited a little longer before covering the Uj'alayi up and walking back out.

Hunter imedeatly turned towards the sweet scent pouring from the dish she was holding. Anyone could smell the sweetness that was bound to make someone sick.

"Want some cake?" Freyu offered, lifting the lid off and revealing the brown cake beneath it.

Omega nodded and ran over, "Yes please!" She cheered.

Boa chirped and tried to sneak a bite. Freyu gently swatted the fox's nose away.

"You'll get the leftovers later."

Boa pouted and leapt off the table. Freyu grabbed a knife and started cutting up the Uj'alayi for each person accordingly.

Bigger slice for Wrecker, smaller slice for Hunter, Tech and Meggie can have regular slices and Echo... I guess he gets regular too. She didn't dwell on it and soon they were all eating again.

Freyu was once again sitting a bit away from the group with Boa next to her. Boa nudged Freyu's arm and playfully clamped down. Freyu lifted her arm and let Boa pull at her sleeve.

"Silly fox." She chided, petting her pet's head and leaning back, her head was already starting to hurt.

Boa saw the shift in her and struck, grabbing at the empty plate and accidentally nicking Freyu's injured arm. Freyu hissed and pulled it away, letting the plate fall.

Instantly, Boa acted and claimed the plate right as Iri had swooped down to claim it herself. Freyu rolled her eyes as her pets started play fighting.

"Don't play too hard." She warned as she got up to get a drink of water.

She already regret the rash choice to drink. She rolled her head back and groaned with her eyes closed. It's to bright!

"Got a headache?" She peeked open an eye, seeing Echo had sat down next to her. She hadn't even heard him sit down.

"Yeah, I don't think I made the best decisions today." She groaned.

"Need anythin-"

"No thanks, I got what I need." She pointed to the cup of water next to her.

There was a bit of an awkward silence for a while. Well, awkward for Echo, Freyu didn't seem to care.

"Shit, I think I drank too much." Freyu grumbled, "I'm gonna be hungover tomorrow and have a massive headache." She complained, slumping down into her seat.

The end of her braid flipped over her head and landed on her eye, she blew up to move it out of the way to little effect. She gave up and left it there.

"Well why did you drink?" Echo asked with a small smirk.

He was a little amused by her more peaceful drunken behavior.

"Because it gets rid of the bad stuff when I don't want it. Even the shitty human stuff works. I don't think I grabbed a good one, I just kinda grabbed a bottle..." She shrugged.

"Oh." That's the most truthful she's been to anyone but Omega. Echo thought.

An increasingly uncomfortable feeling rose in his chest. He tapped his foot on the ground in an attempt to get rid of the anxious energy.

He decided to distact himself and Freyu from their current situations. He looked at Freyu for any subject that could distract him, her hair was still pulled back and away from her ear, the gray implant stood out like a sore thumb against the purple red scar tissue.

He noticed there was a neat surgical scar in the place where her ear canal would normally be, she didn't have one. It looked like it had been closed, probably for medical reasons.

"So, uh... What's the deal with yours?" He asked.

Freyu glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Scuse me?".

"Your implant, ear thing..." He paused as pointed at the general area, "You asked about mine and I want to know about yours, if that's alright."

"Oh, it's just a hearing aid my brother made for me. I can hear without but I'm hard of hearing in that ear, part of my ear drum got damaged when I- when this happened." She gestured to the side of her face.

"And I've never had the greatest hearing in this ear anyway." She added.

Whether it was her drinking or she was just nervous or shy, a light indigo blush formed in her cheeks.

"Does it ever hurt? Putting it in?" He asked.

"It used to but not anymore, I've gotten uses to it being there." She paused and gave Echo a sly look, "But it did hurt when Tech overloaded it and I had to rip it out." Her tone was a strange mix of lighthearted teasing and underlying bitterness.

"Oh, right..." Echo trailed off.

Thinking about what happened on Massanii had been giving him a flustered feeling lately. He hadn't heard any of his brothers really apologize for it. He hadn't apologized.

"Hey... I... Uh, I'm sorry about what happened... You know, back on Massanii." He said awkwardly.

"It's not a big deal any more." Her flat, defensive voice had returned through her slightly slowed speech.

It was still something, it was bothering her. Or something else was bothering her?

"So what was this for?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I was hungry and wanted some real food." Freyu responded.

"I was in the kitchen with you, you seemed more than just hungry..." Like you wished you were somewhere else. With someone else.

He spoke with a bit of a teasing tone in his voice. Freyu frowned at him, he had a weird, nervous sorta smile on his face but he spoke like he was teasing her, she didn't like being teased.

"I like to make stuff, it makes me happy, you just haven't seen me like that." Freyu said.

She'd crossed her arms and turned her body away from him but kept eye contact.

Echo stared back, her eyes looked like twin suns. Normally they would be bright and show nothing she didn't want him to see but now, the brightness was dulled by the alcohol in her system. For the first time since she'd woken up on the Marauder, her guard wasn't one hundred percent up. He could see the tiredness creeping in and a sense of sad longing.

Freyu didn't break eye contact as Echo stared, it was a little weird. Just staring. Maybe it's a staring contest? Yeah, that makes sense. A staring contest makes perfect- wait, no it doesn't make any sense.

Her face cracked and she giggled, "Eyayah, what are you staring at?" She asked.

"Freyu... Are you homesick?"

She blinked. It didn't register with her if the absent look on her face was anything to go by.

"Is that why you did this? Do you miss your home?" He pressed, genuinely curious about her.

While the questions might not have registered with her head imedeatly, she seemed to subconsciously react. Her pupils dialated, her hand squeezed around her arms and Echo heard glass breaking. A few lightbulbs had burst somehow.

"Freyu?" He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving her a little shake. Her body relaxed and the glass breaking sound stopped. I'll have to find and clean that later, don't want anyone getting hurt. He thought.

Freyu shook her head and glared at him, "Of course I'm not homesick, I'm drunk."

"That doesn't make any sense..."

"Neither does how you went from staring to that question." She pointed out.

"But why would I be homesick? I don't miss being alone in an empty house, I don't miss all the damn rain. Why would I miss it? It's just where I lived... For my whole life..." She looked down and bit her lower lip, clearly having lost where she was going. "But I don't miss it. You're just crazy." She finished.

"Okay, I believe you." Echo backed off, fearing if the current conversation continued, she'd get mad.

"Good." She nodded and turned the focus of her attention back to Boa.

The fox's fur was sticking up and curling towards the table. The feelers on her ears twisted around each other and there was a mischievous look on her face when she looked back

"Boa, no." Freyu scowled and crossed her arms. Boa stuck out her pink tongue out and didn't listen.

Freyu let out a loud, groaning sigh and tried to get up, her body was apparently not having any of it and she fell back down almost as soon as she'd started to get up.

"Eyayah, can you just go up and grab her scruff? She'll stop when you do that." Freyu requested.

"Uh, sure...?" Echo got up.

"Thanks!" Freyu said in an unessicarily loud voice.

He stood over the fox and quickly reached down, grabbing the loose skin at the back of her neck. Almost imedeatly, her fur flattened out, she huffed and whined at him.

He was keenly aware of his brothers and sister looking at him for a second. He turned back to Freyu, she gave him a thumbs up and motioned for him to bring her pet over.

He dropped the fox in her lap and watched as she complained to Freyu, who was nodding like she was actually understanding. "Well you deserve it for trying to take the food while everyone is distracted you naughty girl." Freyu said sternly.

Boa barked and made a high pitched chirping laugh sound. "Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want." Freyu scolded..

The fox let out a small growl. Freyu kept a perfectly straight face as she picked Boa up and held her at eye level.

"Boop." She pressed her nose into the fox's. Boa licked her nose then returned the gesture with a few extra licks.

After a little while longer talking and messing around with Boa, Freyu finally sighed and decided to force herself up and to bed.

"Need help getting back to your ship?" Echo offered.

"Nah, I don't sleep in there, I haven't cleaned my room in over seven years, I think I'd die if I slept in there drunk. Cid's been letting me use one of her back rooms." Freyu declined his offer again.

"And I can make it there on my own." Freyu added before he could get his other offer out.

"Night Eyayah, see you tomorrow." She waved to him then caught Omega's eye and waved as she walked away.

"Good night, try not to throw up. Cid'll be pissed if you do." Echo called after.

"No she won't, I've done it before." Freyu said over her shoulder, a blank look passed her face and her indigo blush deepened.

"Why the fuck did I say that?" She muttered to herself loud enough to be heard by Echo.

Freyu stumbled back to her room with Boa doing her best to guide her and locked the door when she got there. Shd plopped down face first on the bed and groaned. Her body was regretting everything she'd eaten but giving her no indication of vomiting.

"Why did I drink so much?" She asked Boa.

You know why. You can't handle anything without drinking. The annoying little voice she always tried to keep crammed in the back of her mind spoke up. Voicing it's very unwanted yet truthful opinion. Freyu frowned and crammed the voice back wherewhere it belonged.

Boa moaned and snuggled close to her, rolling her off her stomach and onto her side. Freyu patted between Boa's horns and smiled when she licked her face.

"Thanks Boa." She murmured, her breath stirred the fur on her wet nose.

She put her arm around Boa and closed her eyes to hopefully sleep through the worst of her hangover.

Am I homesick? I don't have a home to be sick over any more... Sure I miss it but I'm not like... that upset, it was just an empty place I lived in... Where is my home? Slowly, the worrisome thoughts broke free from her iron grip on them.

Dead and buried. That's where. She shoved that particular voice back down.

Maybe I could go somewhere... I'm kinda tired of sticking around the same stinky city... I could go to Cxylor (A/N: read it as sigh-lore) yeah... I'll go there. Freyu let herself slip into an uneasy sleep where her dreams were filled with the scent of rain and blood.

XXX

Chora sat at the edge of her bed, her mind focused on finding a single drop in an ocean of life.

Her door slid open and she looked up with a smile.

"Hey Cho." ES-02 said as she walked in.

"Udesla(Mando'a, calm)." Chora smiled when Ude(A/N: read as u-d) frowned at the nickname.

"I'm not that calm you know that." She said as she sat down.

"You're calmer than that clone." Chora rolled her eyes.

"Oh anyone is, he has some serious issues." Ude agreed.

Chora laid down on her back, the bed was cool. So was Ude, she'd just gotten out of the fresher and her hair was still wet.

"Nice to finally get a mission with just the two of us, right?" Chora prompted, pulling Ude down onto the bed next to her.

"Yeah, Empire's doing a lot." Ude agreed.

"I haven't had time for you for so long. I'm glad we work together now, I missed you, cyare." She added as she turned to Chora.

Though her pronunciation was a bit off, Chora was very happy that Ude tried to use words of affection in her language. A lot of others didn't.

"So wanna have fun or stay professional?" Ude prompted.

"Fuck professionalism, I've seen several officers taking spice on the job." Chora declared.

Ude rolled over on top of her with the smile she loved.

"Good."

________________________________________________________________________________

Alright, that's about as unsafe for work I'll get.

This is my first post of 2022, that's fun!

Happy New Year everyone!

Let's get ready for season three of the shit show called the 2020's. I'm bracing myself for ten seasons. Shit's just gonna keep happening. And everyone already cursed themselves by saying this year would be better but possibly crappy year aside, happy New Year!

I hope your year is better than it was last year and that good things come to you.

Have a wonderful New Year and I wish you well.

VJS out!

First VJS out of the year!

This is what I do, everything is the first thing of the year and I make it everyone's problem.

[stones-x-bones]

It’s Only Blood (Night 1 Cont.) || Mina and Bex

TIMING: Current (continuation of this) PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable and @inbextween SUMMARY: The eye of the storm. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, References to child abuse 

For a moment, Mina allowed her nails to change again, growing sharp and dangerous. She’d never been taught to use them as weapons, but they’d honestly served her better than any knife. They’d ripped the head off of a harpy well enough. “I make a piss poor sword,” she said, lightly. She hadn’t been a good weapon, too anxious, too afraid, too cautious. But she’d put her body in between enough people and danger to know that she made a damn good shield. As much as she could, anyway. She made the claws go away, the effort not as bad as it had been before. “I hate them for hurting you, and I hate them for making you go back to them,” she murmured. Not even for herself. She couldn’t care less about herself. But anywhere was better for Bex than being with her parents. She’d prefer her to stay with the Youtuber, Eddie. Anyone but her parents. Mina tasted blood at Bex’s words. She’d bitten into the inside of her cheeks. “I--” Of course she loved Bex. It was a fact of life. Pi was infinite, music sounded best when it was played by someone who was passionate about it, and Mina loved Bex. And Bex loved Mina because it didn’t matter if Bex could lie. She wouldn’t lie to Mina. Not about this. Not about something that hurt so much. “I love you, too. So much. It’s like a hole in me. But I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t get rid of-- If I could make it easier for you, I would. I will. Please tell me how. I’ll do anything. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave town if you want. I won’t come back. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean selfish that way,” Bex said. They weren’t selfish because they wanted more for themselves, or because they wanted to keep things for themselves. They weren’t selfish in the way small children who refused to share were, or old businessmen who hoarded their wealth were. They were selfish because they chose their fear over everyone else. They were selfish because they hid themselves away, afraid that any gentle touch or voice was just a lie. Bex turned her head to look over at Mina on the couch. Thunder shook the cabin and lightning momentarily lit up the inside. Bex used to be afraid of thunderstorms, as a child. But the one time she’d tried to find comfort in her parents, she’d learned the lesson quick that she was alone in life, that she had to deal with her fears alone, and that’s when her closet, and the shoes on the floor, and the small hidden space behind the shelf, had become her sanctuary. Fear had always meant safety. “You’re not greedy or mean or anything like that. I just mean...you’d rather hide than let someone in. Or run, then let someone hold you. It’s the kind of selfish that keeps you safe. The kind of selfish that comes with being afraid of so much. We hide and we keep ourselves to ourself because it’s easier and it’s familiar...and it’s selfish.” 

Bex looked out the window and squinted into the dark, wondering if she might see Frank’s shadowed form waiting for them just outside. But all there was were trees and rain and dark. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, “I’ve been afraid for so long. I don’t even know what life would be like without. I thought leaving them would make me less scared, but it didn’t. I thought going home would make all of this stop happening, but it didn’t. I don’t know what to do anymore. All my life all I wanted was the chance to make my own choices and now I’ve made all the wrong ones and I don’t know what to do.”

Her eyes drew down as Mina’s hands turned to webbed claws again. “Swords aren’t the only tools,” she said back quietly. She turned herself so that her shoulder was against the couch and she could look at Mina more fully, before she slipped her hand out from under the blanket and prodded at Mina’s fingers, still clawed. They turned back to her human looking ones and Bex turned her hand palm up to let Mina’s fingers rest there. She hated her parents, too, she realized. As desperately as she wanted her mother’s love, she hated her for it. She hated how much she ached for just one iota of love from her. Just one real moment where her mother would look at her and see her and love her. It would never happen, but still Bex wished for it. She hated Mina’s dad for making her feel the same. She knew Mina felt the same. The lengths they would go to to convince themselves of a parents’ poisoned love was too big. “Please don’t leave,” was all she said, and she blinked as a tear fell from her chin. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Is that not self preservation as opposed to selfishness?” Mina asked. Maybe there wasn’t a difference. Maybe it was selfish to want to guard one’s heart, one’s mind. Mina didn’t know. It did feel selfish, sometimes, when she knew that Morgan needed her but she just couldn’t make herself go home. “Sometimes it’s just-- it just seems like it’s for the best, to run or leave or take care of myself. I don’t want to bother other people.” And she didn’t. Her whole life, Mina was taught to not be a burden. She walked on broken bones, she found her own shelter, she taught herself. If she needed something, she figured out a way to get it for herself, and if she wanted something… she figured out just how desperately she wanted it, if it was worth it. And it hadn’t always been hard; she’d been given nice things, but she knew to provide for herself first if she wanted to be provided for. That’s just how life was. “I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. I wish I could help you. I would, if I could.” If you’d let me.

“I know they’re not. There’s also knives and crossbows and guns and…” she trailed off, and she’d almost been joking, but not really. She wasn’t raised to be a tool. She was raised to be a weapon. Whatever Bex’s parents had wanted her to become, whatever tool they were attempting to shape her into, it probably wasn’t a weapon. She put her trembling hand in Bex’s palm and, before she could think about it too much, she let the webbing reform between her fingers, even if she kept the claws away. She felt exposed in ways that she hadn’t, even though there were plenty of people that had seen this. But it was Bex, and she wanted to prove that she trusted her. She didn’t think that Bex would shy away, not in the way that Mina would have shied away from herself. “I won’t leave unless you tell me to. I won’t. You’d-- You’d have to give me a few days, regardless. I don’t think I’ll be traveling in the immediate future.”

“I don’t know the difference,” Bex admitted. And truly, she didn’t. Her parents called her selfish for wanting something more. They called her cruel for not giving them what they wanted. They told her she was selfish because she couldn’t be the way they wanted her to be. She’d believed them, she still did. She’d started to wonder, to change, but she still believed them. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” She was still angry, but her weary body had stopped gathering up enough energy to be that way. She laid her head on the side of the couch. Mina still needed to be stitched up, she needed to check the pots outside, and go down to the boathouse to check for buckets before it stopped raining. She should check the level of the basin outside, maybe there was enough to fill the tub halfway. Mina could soak and they could try again in a bit. There was still so much to do, she had to keep going. But her body wouldn’t let her move. She closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re not a bother, Mina,” she said absently, “I can’t think of one situation where you were ever bothering anyone. Morgan agrees, I think even Deirdre would agree. And Rio, he likes you, too. He said you’re a good person and a good fighter. And Nell. She likes you. You guys both really like knives, too. I think Nell likes talking to you.” The words were partially slurred and Bex remembered the bottle next to the couch. She wondered what it might be. “Even Adam seems to like you. You’re not a bother.” But being taught to be small and not a burden or a bother was just another thing Bex understood too well, too.

“People,” Bex added on to Mina’s list. Money, wealth, power. Influence. They were on opposite sides again. Where Mina was raised with metal and blood, Bex was raised with smoke and shadow. “Whatever you did while with your dad was never your fault,” she mumbled absently. She opened her eyes when she felt Mina’s hand shift again. “You just wanted him to love you. You’d do anything if he just told you he loved you.” Why were parents so cruel? She smothered Mina’s hand with her own and ran her fingers along the silvery scales on the back of her hands. “I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t drag your unconscious body miles through the forest in the rain just so you could leave.” She scooted a little closer, close enough to bring Mina’s hands up to her lips. Her skin was cool. “I want to stay with you.” She said, barely audible. The fire crackled, the rain poured, but her voice could still be heard. She wanted to stay, but they weren’t people who got things they wanted.

“I don’t either,” Mina said. Perhaps the difference had been that Bex had been taught to believe in selfishness whereas Mina had only known self preservation. She only knew how to take care of herself. She didn’t know how to lean on other people. Even in the field, she’d still had to watch her own back. It was nice being in White Crest because she didn’t have to perpetually be on guard, but old habits didn’t go gently; even with Adam in the portal, even with her plans to make sure he got out no matter what, there’d been a part of her that still didn’t know if he would have her back the way she had his. She picked at the hole she’d made in the couch, unsure of what to say. She felt like a burden, just like she didn’t feel like a person. It wasn’t about anyone else, not really. It was about her and how she saw herself, and maybe it was wrong, and maybe she was wrong, but that didn’t change anything. She could be told that all day long and there would always be a part of her that still wouldn’t believe it. Instead of commenting on it, she said, “You need rest.” She could probably make room on the couch for both of them. Bex was injured, too, and Mina didn’t forget about that. Falling asleep on the floor wasn’t going to do her any favors. 

“People,” Mina echoed. People could be tools, too. She could be a person. She was a person. She reminded herself of it again and again until it almost felt real. “I don’t think that’s true. I still did it. I’m still accountable. I wasn’t always a child. I was never really a child.” She knew what she was doing, even if she hadn’t. She’d always felt that it was wrong. She should have known that it was wrong. “He could have changed.” She was just repeating what she’d said in her dream, what she told herself all the time. “He wasn’t given a chance.” And how could he have been, when his upbringing had probably been something similar to her own? He didn’t talk about the way he was raised, but Mina could only assume. “Then I won’t leave.” She flinched a bit, though. “I tried to stay awake. I just-- I couldn’t, and I couldn’t hear what you were saying even though I know you were talking. But I did try.” She wished she’d been able to try harder. “That’s good. I don’t-- I don’t want you trying to get out in this.” And, more importantly, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

Then, maybe, there wasn’t a difference. Bex didn’t know. Mina didn’t either. She wished she could ask Morgan. She wished there was someone else here, helping. They’d know what to do. Bex didn’t know what to do and she was so tired and Mina was ignoring her again. Ignoring some of the things she was saying. She furrowed her brow. She couldn’t make Mina understand that anymore than someone could make her. In the end, it had to be them to make the decision to feel that way. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. Bex understood what conditioning was, she’d read about it so much. She knew it’s what her own parents had done. So of course it’s what Mina’s father had done to her. Maybe worse. Mina thought she was nothing more than a killing machine, something made to destroy. She wished she could show Mina that she could heal, too. That she could create. That she had life in her touch. Bex drew in a breath. “I’m fine,” she said, “I slept a little earlier. There’s still things to do. And the fire--” she turned to look back over at it, and it was dwindling, its heat disappearing before she could feel it. “The fire needs tending. And I can’t sleep if-- in case he comes back.” She wouldn’t let him just come trudging in here and kill them both.

“You were a child,” Bex said, a bit harshly. She had been a child, too. “Whether or not you actually got to be one, you were a child.” It didn’t matter how many times Mina tried to excuse him, she would never let her get away with thinking what he’d done was okay. If what her parents was doing wasn’t okay, then nothing Mina’s father had done was, either. It was worse. He had taken a child and made her hate herself and her species and made her feel less than a person and used her to kill other people. So much so Mina thought it was her own fault. “I’d never put that on you. I don’t think any of that was on you.” But what did she know? She wasn’t really a part of this world. She wasn’t a part of Mina’s world. “He doesn’t deserve a chance.” She said darkly. Her parents didn’t deserve a chance, either, but she was giving them one, wasn’t she? She was a hypocrite, but she knew that already. She moved her hand from Mina’s and pushed herself up with a great effort. There were things to do. Maybe she could find a real bed for Mina. She looked down at her, eyes soft. “I’m not leaving you.” Not right now, at least. “It’s okay, Mina. You were--” dying, so close to dying. She had practically been dead in her arms and Bex couldn’t forget what it looked like. “It’s okay now.” 

“You’re not fine.” Mina frowned, looking Bex over. “You’re only doing marginally better than I am, actually.” She sighed. “If you get any water, save what you boil and clean for yourself. The only water that’s harmful to me is saltwater. My body could use a puddle to heal, at this point.” And she didn’t want to say that she’d done that before, years ago when she’d had a cut on the bottom of her foot and hadn’t been able to find water for kilometers in any direction. “You need to drink more than,” she glanced at the bottle, the strong scent of alcohol reaching her even from a distance, “that.” She looked at the door, almost expecting Frank to be conjured into existence, but he didn’t show. She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s coming back tonight. He expected me to die, when he left. If he comes back, it won’t be until tomorrow to retrieve my body. Now that he knows what I am, he might even wait longer if he thinks that the rain will keep me alive.” He didn’t expect anyone to come for her, and he’d wanted her to suffer. That’s why he’d taken the knife out. He hadn’t wanted the iron to kill her; he’d wanted her to bleed out. But she hadn’t, and he’d made a mistake, not watching her die. Mina was going to kill him. She was going to kill him.

“I was… It doesn’t matter, not anymore.” But Mina didn’t think that children were brought up to think the way she had. She didn’t think she’d ever been a child. She didn’t know if she would have been a child even without her dad. Her mother might have made her into something much, much worse. “I still… I think about it all, a lot. Morgan asked me, once, how the hunters I grew up with would have treated her, and… they’d have tried to kill her. They wouldn’t have hesitated. I did because I knew her before. I did because I’ve never been able to kill anyone.” And that made her weak, so weak, but she couldn’t regret it. She couldn’t. Not if it meant that she got to know Bex. Not if it meant that Bex didn’t see her as a monster. She remembered the relief, from her dream, when the blood had faded away and Bex seemed to realize that none of it was real. Mina didn’t know what Bex would think of her if she’d actually killed someone with her own hands. (The little voice in her head reminded her that she was going to kill Frank. She was going to. She was going to. If he walked in right then, she’d have given it her damnedest, regardless of her injuries.) She looked down, and maybe she understood why Bex hated her dad so much. Maybe they were both destined to hate each other’s parents. “He-- He’s dead now. It doesn’t matter.” She reached for Bex’s hand even as she stood up and pulled away, and she couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice as she just said, “Bex, please.” 

“I’m doing much better than you, actually,” Bex pointed out. But only because Mina had been nearly dead, so close to dead, so close to dying. Bex hadn’t actually made it in time. If it hadn’t rained, Mina would have died. Bex choked on the thought. “Don’t. Don’t-- stop. Please don’t talk about him, I can’t-- I don’t want to--” think about him, talk about him, anything about him. Even if her mind still tried to bring him back to the forefront every time she glanced at the door, she needed to not think about him. About what he’d done to her, about how close he’d come to killing Mina. About what he might do next. She swallowed. “I just want to-- focus on you. On getting you better.” She gave a little laugh, and it didn’t sound or feel as hollow somehow. “There’s a boat out front full of water. I used it to drag you up to the house with all the supplies.” She was reminded of the pots again, and she went to move, but her body gave out and she stumbled to her knees, shaking. She didn’t want to think about Mina dying anymore, she didn’t want to think about Frank trying to kill her. She didn’t want to think about it all being her fault. She wanted to go back to yelling. Or maybe just talking. Or maybe she could get away with just sitting with Mina in silence. Or maybe drinking. Her eyes went back to the bottle. “I need to go get more water.”

She lifted her gaze to look at Mina again. “It does matter,” she said, “but..we can not talk about it anymore.” She didn’t really want to talk about any of it anymore. She didn’t know how she’d feel in the morning, but maybe things would sort themselves out. There was still so much to talk about. She had to keep going. She lifted herself back up. “Not killing someone doesn’t make you weak. I think, in the face of what you were made to be and how you were treated-- I think that makes you stronger.” It certainly made her a better person. Not that Bex would have thought less of Mina had she killed as a child. It wasn’t her fault. She was a child who had been tainted. She moved away from her but stopped, chewing on her lip. “I’ll just-- I'll be right back. I pro--” she paused. It was such a simple thing to promise, but it made her tongue taste sour. “I’ll be right back.” And she pushed out the front door again. She left it open so Mina could watch her, shaking with such an exhausted tremor, water spilled over the edges of the pot. She made it close enough to the fire before collapsing, setting the pot inside it before throwing another log on. “I can see if there’s enough water in the basin to fill the bath, if you need.” She turned to look back towards Mina. She looked so tired. “We still need to stitch your side up.” She prodded her own side. “And...maybe mine.” Definitely hers too.

“Much better is a stretch. Though, to be fair, I’m only doing marginally better than a corpse,” Mina said, and she flinched a bit. “I’m sorry. That was morbid. And I don’t particularly want to talk about it, either, but I’ve lost a lot of the control over what I say, recently. I-- I lied, too much, and now I have a hard time shutting up. But we don’t have to talk about that. We can talk about anything else.” Whatever Bex wanted to. Mina was willing to do whatever. “You… dragged me up here in a boat? I-- Wasn’t that heavy? How? Where did the boat come from?” She looked around them again, still trying to figure out where they were. The house was small, smaller than her own near the lake, and dingy with disuse. She couldn’t help but feel impressed that Bex had managed to drag both her and a boat up to it, as well as getting Mina inside and on the couch. She reached out when Bex buckled in on herself, but Mina was useless. “Bex!” She worried the inside of her cheek with her teeth, trying to figure out what to do. “You’re exhausted. Please, just-- You need to rest, too. You’ll be no good to either of us if you pass out.”

Mina took a breath and looked away. “Thank you.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It didn’t matter. She didn’t think that it mattered. It had happened. There was no getting that time back. There would never be any sort of reclaiming of childhood, no rediscovery of her inner kid. Such things didn’t happen; such things didn’t exist. “It-- I’m glad I didn’t. Kill anyone. I’m glad. But it would have made things easier. I would have had an easier time when I was younger if I’d proven myself more.” She might have gotten nicer things, more rewards for doing her duty. Of course, there would have also been satisfaction in herself over the fact that she’d done what she was trained to, that she’d been good. She would have been more than a monster; she would have been a monster that slayed other monsters. She watched Bex go. “Just-- please be careful.” She didn’t care that Bex wasn’t going far. She just wanted her to be careful. There was nothing she wanted more than to help Bex, and she was so frustrated at how useless she felt. She was tired and in pain and useless, and she almost wished she had that jar of pain reliever that Nell had given her when she cracked her ribs. The thought of resting in a bathtub sounded lovely. “I’m fine with whatever. I probably just need to soak my leg and my side. After the stitches.” She sighed, knowing that Bex wasn’t going to let her do them herself. “I can help with yours if you’d like, after we do mine.”

Bex winced at the analogy. “You’re not a corpse,” she said in a low voice. She’d made it in time and Mina wasn’t dead which meant Mina wasn’t a corpse because Bex had made it in time. She’d made it in time and that was all that had mattered. She’d kept going, beyond the point of exhaustion, and something inside of her had pushed her more and further, and she’d made it. Adrenaline and her magic had left her empty, drained from all the things she’d used it for to get here. “There was a boat house, down by the dock. By the-- we’re by a little lake. I don’t know where. There’s no trail signs or anything.” She moved the pot to sit on top of the fire, watching the pot turn red hot from it. “I couldn’t carry you anymore. And I needed to find supplies. I couldn’t carry you and supplies. So I dumped it all in an old, wooden boat-- more like a...canoe, like those wooden boats they let you take out on the lake at the Cryptid Corner-- and dragged it up here by the tie rope. I don’t have a lot of life experience, but I’ve read enough books about what to do when you’re lost in the woods that I knew what to look for, I guess.” She licked her lips and looked back at Mina. “Magic helped, too.” She’d seen Nell use her magic to make herself momentarily stronger, and she’d read the spell on how to do it several times in one of the books. Maybe it was books that had saved her life.

She ignored Mina’s pleas for her to rest. She couldn’t rest yet. She wondered what time it was, but the only clock in the house-- an old analog that looked older than the cabin, even-- wasn’t working. Had probably stopped working long ago. “Don’t thank me,” she murmured, scooting over back towards the couch after she’d gathered up the medical supplies. She didn’t make any comment on how Mina felt about her childhood. She couldn’t understand that decision. She couldn’t understand wanting to add more hurt to the world when it hurt so much already. Even if that’s what a parent wanted, she could never do it. That was the one line she’d always drawn with her parents-- she would do no harm. She didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone. She wanted to kill Frank. Blinking, she looked up at Mina on the couch. Her thoughts had made her mind drift for a moment and she needed to concentrate. Her eyes dropped to the bottle next to her foot and she made to grab for it before pausing. She needed to be clear headed for this. Drawing in a breath, she looked up at Mina again. “I’ll fill the tub and hope there’s enough water in the basin to reach your side. The tub is a little small, but it’s better than nothing.” The bathroom was small, too, but there was room between the built-in sink and the tub for Bex to sit or lay. She started unraveling the thread that was already hooked through the needle. There wasn’t much. Her eyes went to Mina’s side, the gash that was hidden underneath old, poorly applied bandages. God, she really was exhausted. They’d have to do this before Bex really did pass out. “Only if there’s enough thread,” she mumbled and reached forward, beginning to pry the bandages gently away from Mina’s side. She shook as she touched her, conscious, for the first time, or her fingers grazing Mina’s skin. It’d been so long since she’d touched her. She bit her cheek and kept going. “I don’t...there’s nothing for the pain,” she said, her voice worried. “This is probably gonna hurt. More.”

“No, I’m not. Because of you. I’m not.” Mina didn’t think she’d ever truly get over this, even after she healed. She’d never get over Bex doing this for her. She’d never really understand it, either. But, then again, wouldn’t she do the same for Bex? Wouldn’t she do more? Wouldn’t she tear cities and walls and people for the girl in front of her? Wasn’t she already planning to kill the boy that put her in this position, even if it wasn’t for herself (especially if it wasn’t for herself)? This was love, and it was painful, but somehow it was what the two of them had, wretched and awful as it was. If Mina could, she’d take it away from Bex. It was hurting her. The last thing Mina ever wanted to do was hurt her. “Well, knowledge is power. I think we’d both be in considerably worse shape if you didn’t know what you know.” And there was something like pride in her voice. Bex had managed to do all of this, on her own, with no prior experience. Sure, magic helped, but magic was an innate part of who Bex was. Of course she’d been able to utilize it to help herself. 

“Sorry,” she said, more of a reflex than anything. She stayed still as Bex checked everything, her fingers trembling as she touched Mina’s skin. She was so close. Mina just wanted to reach out and hold her. That was it. She just wanted to hold her. The featherlight touches were a good confirmation that she was alive, though. That this was real. She’d known it was. Of course she’d known it was. Still. It was nice to be sure. “As long as there are stitches and I can cover my side up with a towel or something, all that matters is that we soak my leg.” She was going to have to reset it in the morning, something she wasn’t looking forward to at all. “It’s definitely going to hurt, yes,” Mina said, unable to sugar coat the situation even if she did keep her voice soothing. “But I’m not going to move while you do it, so it’s going to be fine. Don’t worry about hurting me, and don’t worry about making the stitches pretty; just make them functional. Have you read up on how to do a continuous suture? That’s what you’re going to try and do here.” She looked at the bottle that Bex had been reading for. “And maybe let me have some of that, please.” She wouldn’t drink much, but it might help a little. 

“You wouldn’t have been hurt, either, if it weren’t for me,” Bex mumbled off-hand. This was her fault. In every sense of the word. Frank would have no reason to go after Mina if it weren’t for her. He’d never even have met Mina, probably. And then, when they’d had him, Bex had made Nell let him go. And then, when he was clearly running rampant, stabbing people, she still hadn’t told anyone. This was all her fault. She felt her cheeks growing wet again and she had to stop for a moment, wiping at them. “I should’ve let Nell kill him,” she whispered. Mina would be dead if Bex hadn’t been able to do what she’d done. She hadn’t known she was capable of doing what she’d done, but she had. Some deep desperation inside of her had pushed her to be able to do what she’d done. Still, her mind toyed with what ifs. What if she hadn’t even made it to Mina in time? What if she hadn’t been able to get her out of the trap? What if she hadn’t been able to carry her for so long? What if when she’d fallen down the hill, she’d lost Mina? What if she’d never been able to find water? What if, what if what if? If Bex hadn’t been a part of her life, none of this would have even happened. 

She needed to listen. Mina was explaining how to do the stitches and Bex needed to listen. But it was hard. She was crying-- sobbing, really-- and she couldn’t listen. They didn’t need to be pretty and they didn’t need to be good, they just needed to be there enough to hold Mina together. She looked at the wound in her side and remembered how painful the knife had felt sliding into her own side. How much more painful it had been coming out. How it had torn at her insides. How the doctor’s had looked at the wound in worry, and the mangled muscle, and how Bex was looking at Mina’s now and it was so much worse. Bex felt her heart gurgling in her throat. “I'm so sorry,” she murmured, and she reached out absently for one of Mina’s hands and squeezed it as she buried her face in the side of the couch. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” She needed to keep going, but her body suddenly had other plans. It had stopped moving and it was really all she could do to not let her sobs grow too loud, repeating the apology like a mantra. Like maybe it might make everything magically better. If only, if only.

Mina started shushing Bex gently. “Hush. If not him, I’m sure I would have run into someone else. And a lot sooner, too.” Hers was never supposed to be a long life, not with the way that she was raised. Mina knew that. She’d come to terms with that a long time ago. Her dad hadn’t made it to fifty. She’d always thought that thirty would be her cap. “Something like this would have happened regardless. It’s not your fault. It’s not.” Honestly, if she’d encountered Frank without Bex around, he still would have tried to kill her. He might have not been as vindictive, as vengeful about it, but he would have still gone for her. She was a threat. She was something to be disposed of, and he probably would have gotten rid of her in that alley behind the theater if Bex hadn’t intervened. Mina shook her head. “You were standing by your beliefs. That’s what mattered. It’s not on you. It’s not.” And even though Mina wanted to kill Frank, she was glad that the decision for his death wasn’t going to weigh on Bex. That was going to be Mina. Because she was going to kill him. She was going to kill him. If there wasn’t anything else to keep her going after this, then that would. 

“You don’t have to apologize. You don’t. You don’t.” She squeezed Bex’s hand and used her other to slowly brush it through Bex’s hair. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t stab me. You didn’t tell him to stab me. This isn’t on you. It’s not. It’s not.” She took the needle and thread out of Bex’s hand and set it down before she put her hand on Bex’s cheek and nudged her to look at her. They weren’t going to be working on this any time soon. There was no way that they could, anyway. She’d tend to her injuries, later, if she had to, if Bex fell asleep. She’d wake her if she needed to stitch her up as well. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you for any of this. I don’t. Please, Bex, I don’t.” She didn’t want Bex to cry. She didn’t want them to have to do this. She wished that Bex was somewhere safe. She wished that Bex wasn’t hurting like this. That was Mina’s fault. She was the one that should be apologizing.

It wasn’t a comfort to know that someone else could’ve-- would’ve-- done this to Mina. Bex felt a strange fury building inside of her. She hated the unfairness of it all. Why was it okay for people to run around killing other people? Why was she so powerless to help Mina? She’d gotten there too late. She could’ve stopped Frank if she’d just told someone. If she’d just tried to do something. If she wasn’t such a coward. If she had just let Nell kill him. If she had just-- if she had just. There were too many. “That doesn’t really make me feel better, you know,” she sniffled, trying to keep the quiet rage out of her voice, “and this time-- this boy-- it is my fault. I had so many chances to listen to someone and to stop him and I--” she squeezed tighter before remembering Mina’s condition and trying to relax her grip. She’d never felt so angry before. It reminded her of her mother’s anger. She didn’t want this anger, but how was she supposed to get rid of it without being just like her? Bex tried to swallow the rage and the tears and she choked on them. “My stupid beliefs keep getting people hurt,” she croaked, “maybe I need to...rethink them.” She wished she wasn’t such a coward.

Bex shook her head. “It is! I do! I have to because it’s-- it’s my fault! It is! And not just because-- not just because I stopped him from dying. But because-- my mom-- my parents--” she stuttered and felt the words catch in her throat. Mina’s hand on her cheek felt so warm it almost burned. She shouldn’t have this, she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve a happiness like the one she knew Mina could give her. She turned her face away. “You should. You should. If you’d never met me, none of this would’ve happened. None of it. And I--” she watched Mina set the suture aside and tried to bring a focus back to her mind, but she couldn’t. She was so tired. She needed to sleep. “I need to fix this. I can do this. I can, I--” her body shuddered when she tried to breathe in and she could feel her chest seizing up. No, fuck, no, she couldn’t have a panic attack right now. No. Mina needed her. Mina needed her to be here and be present and make sure neither of them died in this stupid, dingy, abandoned cabin. She held her breath and closed her eyes and realized all she really wanted to do right now was wrap herself up in Mina’s arms. “This was all supposed to stop when I went back, and it hasn’t and I don’t know-- I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Mina said again. Again and again and again, it seemed like sorry was all that she could say. “I know it’s not reassuring, but it’s the truth. It’s-- That’s how my life is.” She shook her head. “But no, this boy is not your fault. You don’t control his actions. You didn’t make him attack me. You didn’t make him do anything. That’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.” She squeezed Bex’s hand back, enough to let her know that she was still there. Enough to let her know that she still could. She was only still alive because of Bex. That was it. She was the reason. And Frank might have found another time, another place to kill her whether Bex was involved or not. “You can’t control other people’s actions, Bex. It’s just not possible. And your beliefs had nothing to do with it. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. It’s not your fault he was a disappointment.”

Bex turned her head, but Mina pulled it back towards her. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated. “You’re not responsible for him. You’re not responsible for your parents. This isn’t on you. You didn’t stab me. You didn’t do this.” She stroked Bex’s face with her fingers, keeping the gesture soothing, simple. “If I’d never met you, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be genuinely happy. I mean, I’d been happy before knowing you. Only recently, really, mostly because of this place, but I have known genuine happiness because of you. Even right now, I’m-- there’s a part of me that’s okay because you’re here, and I hate that, and I hate that this is what’s happening right now, but I am glad you’re here, even if I wish you were somewhere safe.” She watched as Bex started to panic, and she felt her own. She sat up even more and made room, trying to get Bex closer to her on the couch. “Hey, hey, it’s-- Breathe, please. Just breathe. Let’s just breathe, okay?” She exaggerated her own breathing, making a show of doing it, even as it made her side hurt. “It’s okay. It’s okay to not know. It’s okay.” 

“He almost killed you, Mina!” Bex exhaled. If she’d had more energy, she would’ve yelled it. But she didn’t. “That’s not just-- it’s not disappointing, it’s-- it’s-- if I had just done one thing! Just one thing differently, this wouldn’t have happened. I-- I could’ve talked to him sooner, o-or told him what was going on, or if I’d just gone home sooner or never stayed with Morgan or let Nell kill him or fuck-- done it myself! One thing was all it took. One thing and I couldn’t even do that.” Her chest heaved. Mina was trying to get her to get up onto the couch with her but Bex’s eyes stuck to each of her injuries individually and she tried to pull away, too exhausted to even really fight. She felt her body sink into the couch. She tried not to lean on Mina too much. She didn’t want to hurt her more. She couldn’t hurt her more. Her eyes went to the knife on the table. “It might as well have been me,” she said, “my decisions keep getting people hurt.” 

But this wasn’t supposed to be about her. This wasn’t. Mina was still on the fringes of dying. She needed water, she needed medical attention, she needed more than Bex could give her. She tried to stand back up off the couch, legs shaking with such great effort she couldn’t even get them to support her weight as she tried. She tried to breathe in time with Mina, but all she could think about was the pain in her side and how much worse Mina’s must be. “I can’t-- I can’t sit here. I have to-- do something. I have to-- I need to be doing something. I can’t sit here and watch you in so much pain and not do anything.” She was losing it, losing the grip on her focus as the adrenaline began to drain away. It would leave nothing behind. She had no more reserves to pull from. “Please don’t hate me,” she choked out, “please don’t hate me. I-- I ruined it. I ruined your happiness and I’m sorry. I just wanted you-- want you-- so much and it hurts and all I do is cause you pain. I’m sorry.” The words were jumbled, slurred. Her exhaustion felt more like a drunken stupor than any of the ones she’d been in lately. She was still too afraid to touch Mina, to get too close to her, so she wrapped her arms around her own stomach and repeated the words. She just needed to rest a moment. Just a moment. Then she’d be okay. Then she could go back to taking care of things. The rain outside felt like nothing compared to the rain on her face. 

“Yes, well, he somehow didn’t.” Despite literally having the perfect opportunity. Mina couldn’t think of a more foolish thing to do. When she killed him, she was going to make sure that Frank was dead. What kind of hunter didn’t know to make sure their quarry was properly killed before claiming victory? She hoped he raged when he found out her body was gone. She hoped he felt panic. She hoped he felt fear. Because she was going to destroy him. She still had a hand to take, after all. But none of that mattered, at the moment. None of it mattered. Not right now. “And it might not have mattered at all. It might be that nothing would change. If you’d gone home sooner, things might have even been worse.” She pulled Bex’s hand to her lips and kissed it softly, though she followed Bex’s eyes to the knife. It was impressive that her blood had managed to cling to it, despite the rain, despite the lake. “It wasn’t you. It wasn’t.”

Mina kept her focus on her own breathing, hoping that, if she did, Bex might possibly follow along with her. “If you try to get up right now, you’re going to be of no use to either of us. I’m not going to keel over if you take a few minutes to breathe, okay? I’m not.” Not unless Frank jumped in through the window and decided to finish the job. But he wouldn’t. He was probably gloating over his victory. Mina leaned forward and put her forehead against Bex’s. “I don’t hate you. I don’t. I could never hate you. I love you. I don’t hate you. I promise I don’t hate you.” She couldn’t hate Bex if she tried. She would never try. She didn’t want to. “You don’t only cause me pain. You don’t. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. I don’t hate you.” She didn’t know what else to do, what else to say. She couldn’t fix this. She could only hope that Bex would take some time to breathe before she started moving about the cabin again. Honestly, Mina hoped that Bex would just fall asleep. She needed to sleep. Mina could tend to herself as much as possible and then try to rest a bit herself. It probably wouldn’t be wise to go to sleep again. She needed to make sure she made it through the night.

Somehow didn’t make the millions of possibilities floating around Bex’s head quiet any, but the conviction in Mina’s voice made her quiet a moment. Somehow she’d made it in time. Somehow it had rained and helped Mina’s wounds from getting worse. Somehow Bex had found the strength within her to get Mina to water and to safety and to here, on this couch. They were all somehows and there was nothing definitive about it, but here they were. Both barely alive, bleeding on a couch in the middle of the forest, tired and exhausted and pushed beyond their limits. But they were alive. She was alive. Mina was alive. Whatever scenarios Bex wanted to concoct in her head, this was the situation they were currently in, and no amount of speculating or wishing was going to change anything. Frank had tried to kill Mina, but Bex had gotten there in time, and now all they had to do was make sure it stayed that way. She would make sure it stayed this way. Mina’s lips were warm on her knuckles and Bex realized again how cold the house was. Without insulation or a heater, the rain had chilled the entire place to match the temperature outside. Aside from the fire, slowly fading. Bex shivered. ”I won’t let him hurt you again,” she croaked. “I won’t. I’ll kill him if I have to. I won’t let him hurt anyone else.” And she’d do it-- she would. She’d almost killed that Warden for just breaking Mina’s arm. She’d rip apart Frank’s brain memory by memory if he even got near Mina again.

Bex was trying to breathe. Really, she was. It was harder than it looked. But Mina was so close to her now and how could she not be calmed by the other girl’s presence? Even when she could clearly see the pain and worry in her eyes. Her forehead was warm. Maybe too warm. Could Nymphs get fevers? Bex didn’t know. The thought strangled her insides, but her exhausted mind tucked them away for later. She couldn’t freak out about another thing right now. “D-don’t promise me that,” she stuttered out between sobs, “don’t. You should. You should hate me.” She reached out tentatively, placed her palm on Mina’s chest, fingers pressing lightly into her skin. “I broke your heart. I knew what would happen and I still did it. I just wanted to save you. I thought I could spare you the pain. I didn’t know,” she said, drowning in her grief, “I didn’t know I loved you, too. I didn’t understand.” She was so close. She was right there. She shouldn’t do it. Mina was in pain. Mina had nearly died. She was with Eddie. She shouldn’t do it. But Bex couldn’t stop herself. She closed the distance-- the oh so short distance-- and kissed Mina. And she’d craved her so bad. And she remembered how it had felt in her dream and this was better. So much better. This was real. And so she kissed her and she cried and she didn’t know what to do anymore.

“He’s not going to hurt me like this again,” Mina said, her voice quiet and cold. “And he’s never going to hurt you again, either.” He was dead the moment that he told Mina what he’d done, what he planned to do. He died right then. His heart was just still bleeding. The second that she was able, though, she was killing him. And she’d draw it out, and she’d make it slow, and she’d make him suffer, but she wouldn’t leave knowing there was still air being forced into his lungs and a heart pumping blood through his body. Frank had made many mistakes. Mina was smart enough to learn from the mistakes of others, sometimes, when she set her mind to it. She pulled the blanket closer around Bex’s shoulders, fighting off her own chill. Her skin was hot, her mouth was slightly parched, but she felt the cool air working its way through her body. “You’re not going to have to kill him. You’re not.” She wouldn’t. That was all on Mina. She wondered if it was the fever that was making her just focus on this or if it was the rage that she still couldn’t get over. He wanted to kill Bex. He was going to die.

“I can promise it because I want to, because it’s true, because it’s never not going to be true. I don’t hate you. I don’t. I could never hate you.” She wondered if Bex could feel her heart fluttering under her touch. She wondered if Bex knew it was hers. She had to. She had to. Mina had all but told her. “I’d let you break it again. More than once. A thousand times, I don’t care. I wish you’d let me help you, but I understand why you didn’t, why you don’t. I know how hard it is to rely on other people. It’s okay. It’s okay.” There was a moment when Bex was right there, and Mina could see her move, and her heart might have stopped, just for a moment, but then Bex was kissing her, and, oh, that. She missed that. She missed that so much. Yes, she was a bit in pain, and yes, this probably wasn’t smart, but Mina deepened the kiss a bit more, and maybe it was a little selfish, but she didn’t care, in the moment. This wasn’t self preservation. This was selfishness. She was selfish. She wanted this. She’d been wanting this for so long.

There were things that needed doing. The fire was dwindling, the pots outside needed to be pulled in and dumped somewhere to store the water and refilled, the bed needed to be checked. Mina needed tending still, her wounds were so raw. Bex needed to check the basin and see if there was enough water for Mina to soak in. She needed to look for some sort of food. She needed to drink water. They needed to rest, to sleep. They needed to talk about so much more. But, instead, she just kissed her. She just kissed Mina because fuck she’d been wanting to kiss her for so long now. For weeks now. Her hands went up to hold Mina’s face so she could kiss her better, kiss her more. There was a pain in her side as she twisted to get closer, but she didn’t care. She just wanted this. She just wanted to kiss Mina. Even when she had to break away to breathe, all she wanted was to kiss her more. She needed to say something. She just kissed her again instead. What else was there to do? They’d started and now she didn’t want to stop. She shouldn’t have kissed her at all. She didn’t want to stop.

There was so much that needed to be done, but maybe it could wait until tomorrow. Once the rain stopped, it would be easier to portion out the water that would have gathered in the basin. She could dump whatever was left in the boat into the tub, potful by potful, first. Portion out the rest for drinking. Maybe there was a fishing pole down at the shack. Bex didn’t know how to fish. They could re-assess the wounds tomorrow, once Mina had made it through the night and was more stable. There was so much to be done, but it could wait until tomorrow. So Bex just kissed Mina instead, and moved further onto the couch and tried her best not to hurt her or herself but she just wanted to kiss her because it had been so long and she needed it. She needed her. She loved her.

The only thing that Mina was worried about, aside from kissing Bex, was making sure that she didn’t bleed everywhere. Really, nothing else mattered. Not the pain from all the wounds, not the old bruises that still hadn’t healed, not the fact that there was still so much to say. There was still so much to say. Mina wanted to tell Bex what she was. She wanted to explain herself. She wanted to try. Just… not right now. Later. They could do it later. She was happy with them doing it later. Literally nothing mattered more than this. Nothing mattered more than pulling Bex as close as she could without injuring her or herself, hands running up and down Bex’s arms, feeling the softness and the heat of her skin. This wasn’t comfortable, by any means. Both of her legs were injured. Her shoulder hurt. Her side was a mess. She was a mess. Bex was a mess. They were both messes, truly. They always had been, when they were together. She’d never minded. She didn’t mind any of it. If anything, she just wanted it more. She’d missed this so much, and it wasn’t like the hole in her chest was healed, not completely, but this made it stop aching as much. That was really all that she could ask for; it was more than she could ask for.

Bex needed to have some semblance of self control. There were so many reasons she needed to have control but she couldn’t remember any of them, because her entire mind was taken up by concentrating on just kissing Mina. And the taste of Mina’s lips and her tongue and the feel of her skin under Bex’s fingertips. The feel of Mina’s hands on her own as she moved them from her arms to her sides, her bare stomach. And if she didn’t stop soon, she was going to lose herself and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. Bex broke away to breath, panting. Her head was pounding, her side was jolting with pain. Her lips felt raw, they were tingling. She leaned in to kiss her again, but managed just enough of herself to restrain, lips just barely grazing Mina’s. “We have to…” she breathed, “we can’t…” They had to what? They couldn’t what? She couldn’t remember. She wasn’t thinking clearly. She kissed her again. Slow, soft. She didn’t want to move. She needed to move. “If we’re not doing...the stitches tonight…” she mumbled against her lips, “we at least need...to get you in some water…” She wondered if Mina would change again. She didn’t wanna think about it. “At least let me do that for you tonight.” It felt like a small plea. She knew she needed to take care of herself as well, but Mina came first. She was dying under her fingertips and Bex needed to do everything she could to make sure that didn’t happen. Neither of them were going to get much sleep tonight, but maybe they could rest. Just a little. They could rest.

“You’re right. You’re right. We have to… We have to…” Mina trailed off, too distracted to remember what they had to do. Because Bex’s lips were on hers, and she could feel Bex’s skin beneath her fingertips, and this was real. This was real. It was painful and wonderful and real. She splayed her fingers over Bex’s heart, feeling it beat. This wasn’t hers. She wasn’t going to get to keep this. It was real, but it wasn’t for her. She wanted it to be. Mina wanted a lot of things. She’d learned to do that, want things, and she’d learned just how useless that was. She wanted to keep kissing Bex. She… wanted to not be hurting. Desperately. She’d really enjoy that. But it wasn’t that important. “If you get me water, you should let me look at your side. Since you can’t heal like me.” It was the least she could do. She wanted to do more. She wished she could, but Mina was all but useless at the moment, and her brain wasn’t working like it was supposed to, and she knew that was only partly from kissing Bex. “I can do that. And you need that more than I do.”

Bex felt her body shudder as Mina’s fingers grazed across her chest, her heart. She wished she could rip it out and give it to Mina. She wanted to give it to Mina. Maybe she already had it, maybe that was why Bex felt cold and empty when she was away from her. Mina had her heart and when she wasn’t around her, she was nothing. She was heartless. It wasn’t fair to Eddie. She needed to tell him. But she needed him, too. She needed him to pretend like her life was normal. She needed him as her shield. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Swallowing, she nodded stiffly. She wanted to keep kissing Mina. “I’ll…” her breath was still thick in her throat. “I’ll fill the tub and you can...look at it in there.” There should’ve been enough water in the basin by now. The rain outside was torrential. She could hear it. And if it wasn’t enough, she would carry in the water in the boat, pot by pot, until the tub was full enough. “Just--” she pulled away, pushing off the couch slowly, “stay here. I’ll be--” her heart hammered. Despite the pain in her side and the tremor in her knees, she leaned down and kissed Mina again, softer this time, slower, a silent promise that she’d be right back. She wasn’t leaving. Not yet. 

She stumbled backwards for a few steps before turning to head to the bathroom, supporting herself with walls and doorways as she did. She needed to clear her head, otherwise she was going to turn right back around and go back to that couch and to Mina and to kissing her. She needed to do this first. She sank to her knees near the tub and reached out for the faucet, struggling to even turn the knob with exhaustion pulling at all her muscles. Finally, it broke, and water poured from the spout into the tub. She let out a long sigh of relief as she rest her head on the edge of the tub for a moment, watching the water slowly fill it up. They had water and everything was going to be okay. Greedily, she stuck her hands under the faucet and filled them up with enough water to drink. It soothed the ache in her throat and she wanted more. The pot in the fireplace should’ve been done by now. Standing back up, the tub about half full now, she made her way back out to Mina on the couch. “There’s enough,” she said, coming back over to her and sinking onto the couch, her body deflating. “Just...give me a minute. And I can help you...into the bathroom…” 

“I can stay here,” Mina said. “I can do that.” It wasn’t like she could do much else, anyway. Her eyes were still heavily lidded by the time Bex went towards the bathroom. She could have just stayed like that, in a state of waiting and watching and hoping, but she needed to do something to make this easier. She’d need to be able to walk a little bit, to not make Bex have to drag her all the way to the bathroom, but she couldn’t do that when her feet were barely even feet. She moved on the couch, covering her legs with the blanket again, and she started trying to shift the bones in her legs back. It hurt. It hurt so bad. But before Bex got back, they were feet instead of fins, and that was really all that she could ask for. Walking was still going to be a struggle, seeing as how one leg was mangled and the other had been shot, but, at least she’d be able to semi walk to the tub. She curled forward a bit from the pain, some of her wounds starting to sluggishly bleed again. She was running out of blood, though. It was fine.

She felt Bex sit on the couch before she saw her, opening her eyes and glancing at the younger girl, who looked almost as bad as she felt. “Take your time,” Mina murmured, clearing her throat when her voice came out pained. She hadn’t realized how much that would hurt. She didn’t think it was possible to be in more pain, but her body was truly surprising her. “I need a moment, too, before I can try to get up. Even with help.” She put a hand over her side, trying not to flinch at the stickiness that she could feel now that the bandages were gone. It was fine. It was going to be fine. “I think I would be fine with a puddle at this point, if I’m being honest.” And she was. Being honest. She really had no choice but to be.

Bex sat up immediately at the sound of Mina’s pained voice. She looked over and saw old wounds reopening, thick, blackish blood draining from them. “Fuck…” she muttered. They’d gotten distracted, they’d been stupid. Mina was dying this was no time for Bex to have kissed her. How could she have been so stupid? She pushed herself up from the couch, ignoring her exhaustion and the burning pain in her legs as she did so. “This is bad…” They didn’t have nearly enough supplies to take care of both of them. Mina was getting worse. Every moment she wasn’t in the water, she was getting worse. Bex should’ve just stayed in the lake with her. But how was she supposed to know? No one told her. Mina hadn’t told her. She shook the thought away and grabbed the towel, pressing it to Mina’s side in hopes of quelling some of the bleeding while they waited. They couldn’t wait much longer, though. She drew in a breath and tried to find something inside of herself, something had to be left, right? She couldn’t have used it all. Maybe some of it was back by now. “It’s fine,” she said suddenly, “I can-- I’ll carry you.” She’d carried her here, what was a few more feet to the bathroom?

Bex wasn’t particularly strong, but she didn’t need to be. That was one thing Nell had taught her that had stuck the fastest. Even though her specialty was mental magic, there were plenty of practical spells she’d been taught that were easy enough. She hadn’t purposefully practiced magic in so long, and while she knew she’d used some intentionally in order to get Mina here, it wasn’t exactly the same. Control seemed nearly impossible, but she had to try. She had to get Mina into that tub where she was sure, if she did accidentally fall asleep or pass out, Mina wouldn’t die. The water wouldn’t let her. She reached out to touch her arm, wrapping her fingers around her wrist delicately. “You’re getting worse, we have to get you in the water,” she urged. “Just let me do this. I can-- if i get you there, I can rest, too. Okay?”

“It’s not as bad as it was,” Mina said, trying to sound reassuring, but she knew it probably wasn’t working. It was bad. It was really bad. It was bad enough that Mina would be forced to acknowledge it. She’d thought that the wolf, the cliff, the ocean was bad. But none of that had been iron. None of that had burned quite like this. Some things didn’t heal right. There was a reason Mina was covered in scars. She knew pain. She knew iron. But not like this. Still, she gritted her teeth and struggled to put her feet in front of her on the floor. “No. No, I can’t ask you to carry me. You’re exhausted. That’s not fair.” Not when she thought Bex herself was in absolutely no shape to be trying to lift anything, much less Mina. She attempted to stand. 

It was a useless endeavor. Mina gritted her teeth as she managed to stand on shaky legs for half a second before she ended up collapsing back to the couch. She hated this. She hated it. She hated being useless. She hated being aware of the fact. It was different, when she wasn’t conscious, when she had no awareness of what was happening. She needed help, then. She knew she needed help. But she wasn’t struggling to stay awake. She was just struggling. She looked at Bex’s fingers around her wrist and then to Bex’s face. Finally, she hung her head. “Okay. Okay. Please help me. But if you start to hurt yourself, stop. Seriously, just put me down if it’s too much. I can probably walk with some support.”

“Hey, stop-- stop it!” Bex tried, but Mina was Mina, and that meant she would try on her own anyway. Bex let her and watched her fall directly back to the couch. They really were two peas in a pod, weren’t they? “I might be exhausted, but I’m not dying. Or bleeding out or covered in--” she swallowed. She absolutely hated seeing Mina like this, it made her blood boil, knowing the boy who’d done it wasn’t far off. Knowing that he probably thought he had been in the right to do this. She tried to not let her anger flare too much. If she was going to use whatever trickle of magic was left in her, she couldn’t waste it on being angry. She couldn’t afford to waste anything right now, and that included brain power arguing with mina. Finally, the other girl relented. Bex nodded and moved herself into position, scooping an arm under her legs and the other around her back. “Just-- hold on. This might...feel weird.” She knew when she used magic it felt weird, but not if having magic used on you was weird.

She tried to picture the rocks she’d dropped off ledges with Nell, how heavy they’d felt in her hands, and how light they’d been a moment later. She poured that intention into lifting Mina, struggling only for a moment before she found her footing. Her arms shook, her legs shook, but she could make it. She could make it. She wanted to hurry but was too afraid to jostle Mina, and too afraid if she went faster than one step at a time, she herself would collapse. She tried not to think about either of those, as she made her way over slowly, arms gripping Mina tightly, like they had in the lake. Like they had when Mina had changed. She made it to the edge of the tub and set Mina down as gently as possible before her legs gave out. The tub faucet had water barely trickling out of it, but it was full enough to submerge her. Bex smiled, tired. “See? I told you I could make it.’

“I’m not dyi—“ Mina choked on the word before she bit her tongue, trying not to scream in frustration. She wasn’t dying. She wasn’t. She wasn’t. But maybe there was a part of her that was still worried about that, worried enough to believe it. She was worried what would happen if she fell asleep, if she lost consciousness for more than a few minutes. She’s never been stabbed like that before, and especially not with cold iron. Mina allowed Bex to maneuver her until she was in the younger girl’s arms, the wound in her shoulder twinging as she wrapped her arms around Bex. Something washed over her, something warm and comforting that made her feel fuzzy around the edges. She sunk into the feeling, burrowing her face is Bex’s neck. “Not weird. It feels nice.” It felt so nice. She almost didn’t think she needed the water as the feeling wrapped around her, soft and caressing and distinctly Bex. It ended when Bex put her down, though. 

The relief was instantaneous as the water touched Mina’s skin. She was still in pain, but it was no longer excruciating. She no longer felt like the knife was still inside of her, something she hadn’t even been aware of until the water touched her wounds. She sighed, eyes closing minutely before she opened them again to look at Bex, a smile of her own crooking it’s way onto her mouth. “I didn’t doubt you could. I just… I just didn’t want you to strain yourself.” Scales were breaking out across her skin again, but there was little Mina could do to stop them. She rested her head on the side of the tub instead. “Are you alright?” She asked, concerned at the way that Bex had collapsed. It wasn’t good for her to use that much magic. It wasn’t good for her to stress her body and her mind when she was already injured as well. 

Not weird. Nice. Bex clung to the words a little. She hadn’t known what it might feel like for Mina, she was worried it might hurt her as much as it had hurt other people. As much as it hurt herself sometimes. She laid her head on the side of the tub as she watched Mina sink in, the relief palpable on her face. She almost wished there was something as soothing for her to lay in, besides, perhaps, Mina’s arms. 

So this was what Mina had meant by fast healing. Bex could almost see the water holding her wounds together, it was strange. The bleeding stopped, the only red from the dried splotches on her side. Bex’s eyes stayed transfixed on whatever piece of Mina she could find that wasn’t covered in red. It was all washing away, hiding beneath silvery scales. She wanted to reach out and touch them again, remembering the feel of them against her arms in the lake. Mina's voice startled her and she looked up, lifting her head. She blinked, let a tired smile fall on her lips. She was too tired to feel upset anymore, even if she still felt like she wanted to yell at Mina. She just wished she’d told her earlier. She wished she’d trusted her enough. She wished for a lot of things, but wishing didn’t change anything. So she just scooted closer, and laid her head against the side of the tub as well, on the outside, looking at Mina. She reached a hand up and brushed it through Mina’s hair gently. “I’ll be okay now,” she murmured, already feeling the fringes of exhaustion pulling at her eyes. Her entire body was deflating now, now that she knew Mina was safe, that Mina wasn’t going to bleed out or keel over. Her job for tonight was done. She could rest, if just for a bit. She knew she needed to assess herself-- there was a dull ache in one of her wrists now, and she distinctly remembered landing on it when they’d fallen, and her head was killing her, there was surely a bruise; and her side, god, her side hurt so much-- but maybe that could just wait until morning. Maybe it all could. She closed her eyes. “I miss you so much.”

It was draining, to feel her body knit together, even if it was slow. Mina knew it was a good thing; she was healing, she was going to probably be fine. It hurt, though. Faster healing didn’t take away the hurt. She was used to pain. Maybe not to this caliber, but she was well acquainted to the feeling of iron slicing through skin. This was just a bit more intense. She was more worried about things becoming numb, blurry. That would make things bad. That’s when they’d need to panic. But for right now, there was just the pain. Mina closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned into Bex’s hand. “Are you sure? It’ll only take a moment. We shouldn’t leave it like that.” She needed to make sure Bex was alright. She needed to make sure Bex was taken care of. At least, she had to do as much as she could like this. She had to. She felt useless. There was nothing Mina hated more than feeling useless, like she couldn’t do anything at all, like she needed help. She didn’t need help. She didn’t. She… did. Desperately. She needed Bex’s help. But that didn’t mean that she wanted this to be one-sided. She couldn’t let this be one-sided. Mina’s eyes stayed closed, though, and she said. “I miss you, too. All the time. Just… Really, all the time.”

Even if Bex wanted to, she wasn’t sure she had the energy to lift herself from this spot anymore. She wasn’t even sure she could go get a blanket, she should’ve brought a blanket with her. Or one of the couch cushions, or something. Anything. Oh, she’d brought the towel in. That would do. She reached over limply and grabbed it, pulling it up over her shoulders as she felt a chill settling in. Once Mina was okay, they could worry about her. She just hoped she could stave off an infection long enough. Her wounds didn’t close like Mina’s could. She swallowed and her mouth felt dry again. She just wanted to sleep. She looked at Mina, her head resting against the side of the tub, so close to her own-- but it was on the other side. Mina was always on the other side from her, wasn’t she? They were just two souls reaching across a line that neither of them understood. If she hadn’t been so dehydrated, she was sure she would’ve teared up at the thought. At her words. She blinked and turned her head down so she didn’t have to look at how painful and sad Mina was. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, so quiet in her throat she’d wondered if she’d even said it at all. Her eyes drifted closed again, and this time, they stayed that way. She didn’t have the energy to fight off sleep anymore.

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 68: Gʀᴜᴅɢᴇ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Episodes: Ye Who Enter Here

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Raven and Gina were already in the middle of arranging tools for their task when we arrived in the docking bay and Octavia and I busied ourselves with loading the van with supplies, both feeling content to get this trip over with as soon as possible.  

We remained focused on the task at hand, until Bellamy arrived and called me over in his best attempt at a subtle manner and Octavia flashed me an interested look as I followed him from the room.

Before I could question him, he led me into a separate hallway where Kane was waiting for us.

“I’m sorry to pull you away from your work, but as council members, I thought you should know what’s happening.” He began, the serious expression that he wore causing a knot to form in my stomach and I waited with baited breath for an explanation.

“The Commander has made contact and offered us the chance to attend a summit today. Whilst you complete your delivery to Mount Weather, Abby and I will present our terms for an alliance.” He revealed, my back straightening up as my posture became alert and I glanced over at Bellamy to find that he was equally shocked at this sudden proposal. 

“But - you said you needed my help for that?” I stuttered, realising that he intended to keep me occupied whilst this meeting happened and feeling a surge of anger that my supposedly important position might have been a farce. “You said that I would come with you once a meeting was arranged. I can translate, at the very least.” I argued, hurt that I was being closed out now that we had finally reached our goal and Kane smiled at me in a manner that hinted at his conflict.

“With all due respect, Sir, I’m not happy about this either. If things go wrong, you should have the best of the guard with you.” Bellamy interjected, seeming equally put out by being excluded and I noted with concern that his first thought was to expect that they might need to fight their way out.

“Bellamy. You’re still recovering from your last impulsive encounter with a grounder. Until I can be confident that you aren't going to repeat that behaviour, I can’t in good conscience take you into their capital city.” Kane explained, as Bellamy grimaced and shook his head in disagreement, but remarkably held his tongue.

“And unfortunately, Indigo, it is not my choice on whether to bring you. Your teacher is assisting us in this meeting and she has forbidden me from bringing you into Polis.” He added, causing my mouth to drop open in shock.

“What? Why?!” I gasped, an overwhelming feeling of confusion and betrayal washing over me and Kane fidgeted awkwardly on the spot, clearly uncomfortable that he had been put in this position.

“I didn’t ask. But I got the impression that it was important. She certainly didn’t say it simply to be cruel.” Kane described, sounding as if he knew more than he was letting on and I hissed under my breath in frustration. 

“We can manage this. The Commander has proven herself to be reasonable and open to negotiation in the past. With Arlo’s support, I believe we could secure peace today. In the meantime, I’m trusting the two of you to assist in progressing the successful reintegration of Farm Station.” He added, fixing us both with meaningful looks and I rolled my eyes bitterly.

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. You want us to butter up the bully, whilst you work on world peace.” I groaned, noticing a slight smile on Kane’s lips that he tried to hide. 

“Come on, Bel. Let's get this over with.” I suggested, placing a hand on his arm to encourage him to follow me and we made our way to the Rover together, both silently sulking about our rejections.

During the drive to the Mountain, Bellamy filled in the others about the Summit and whilst they all chatted about the possible outcomes, Octavia and I held a silent conversation of our own with only expressions. 

It was clear that she had noticed the tension between Bellamy and I, but I also knew that she understood why I was stressed by his recent behaviour. Having her with us was already more helpful than I had expected and I was able to relax somewhat at the thought that she would have my back if needed.

By the time that we arrived at our destination, Octavia was almost turning green from nausea and I had to stifle a laugh as she stumbled outside first. After immersing herself in grounder culture, it seemed that she’d lost her space legs and gained their dislike for any forms of transport other than horseback.

“I knew I should’ve taken my horse.” She groaned as she wobbled in an effort to reorient herself on the ground and I chuckled at her, whilst Gina hurried past us to check on Raven as she struggled out of the driver's seat. 

Though the girls moved easily into unloading the Rover, Bellamy seemed distracted, staring out into the distance as if he hadn’t even noticed the movement around him.

I already knew exactly where his mind was, as mine was trapped in the same terrifying space and I wandered over to stand silently by his side. 

We stood together without speaking for a few moments, both gazing in the direction of Polis and focusing on our own anxieties about the Summit. Though it seemed petty, I couldn’t help the niggling feeling that Bellamy had only wanted to join them in order to recover Clarke and I had to push the childish concern to one side.

“We should both be there.” He muttered finally, keeping his eyes trained in place and I sighed thoughtfully.

“Well, if you hadn’t chased after Clarke like a complete idiot, then you would be.” I responded accusingly, unable to contain the bitterness that was coursing through me and he turned to view me with a hurt expression. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just tense. I don’t understand why Arlo doesn’t want me there. I know that I could help.” I admitted, crossing my arms defensively and he nodded his head in understanding.

“I get it. You think that you’re being punished for something too?” He enquired, viewing me with concern and I chewed on my lip as I considered this.

“I don’t know. Leaving her? Maybe she thinks that if I’m not going to live like a grounder, then I don’t get to play the part? It's hard to figure out Arlo’s motives.” I explained, still muddling through possibilities in my mind and the question continued to bother me.

I recalled the conversations that we had about Azgeda, the many times that she told me I was not ready for the dangers that we would find there. However, the last time I had seen her, she’d offered for me to be a part of her investigations and I had to wonder exactly what kind of threat was in Polis that she would consider worse than the Ice Nation betrayal. 

“Kane’s right, though. You still need time to heal.” I added as I forced myself back into the present, flashing Bellamy a knowing look and he straightened up slightly, trying to correct his posture to hide the impact that his injury was still having on him.

“I’m fine. I’m ready to get back out there now.” He insisted, grabbing a bag from the back of the Rover to prove how capable he was, but I noticed a slight limp in his gait as he bought it over to me.

“Oh, really?” I asked innocently, raising my brows in disbelief as I offered him the chance to be honest with me and he gave me a stern nod in response.

My movements were too quick for him to anticipate as I reached out to jab him in the side and then much gentler at the stitches in his thigh. He yelped in pain, before dropping the bag to the ground with a thud and I crossed my arms again, as I fixed him with a scrutinising look. 

“You can’t con a con-artist, baby.” I crooned, turning to load myself up with my own share of cargo. “When you’re ready to get back out there, you know that I’ll have your back against Kane and anyone else that tries to stop you. But you had better believe that if you try to do it any sooner, I will beat your ass. With love.” I clarified, smiling warmly at him despite his annoyed expression.

“You drive me insane. You know that, right?” He grumbled as he straightened back up and I simply chuckled at him.

“Of course. How else am I supposed to entertain myself?” I remarked, glancing around to check that we were all ready to go, before I returned my attention to him. “Think you missed one.” I teased, pointing to the bag that I’d made him drop and he finally cracked a smile as he loaded himself up.

“You guys. Did I ever tell you about how I saved Sinclair’s ass on the Ark.” Raven quipped, joining us with a large bag hanging on her shoulder in determination and it was clear that getting out of Arkadia with Gina had lifted her spirits.

“Please, don’t.” Octavia groaned in disinterest, strolling away before Raven could engage her in a conversation and I flashed her a look that told her to stop the negativity.

“You mean the time you went rogue on a spacewalk?” Gina chimed in, immediately indulging Raven with a keen attitude that was heart-warming to witness and Octavia quickly clocked on to my intentions as I observed them with a smug pout.

Bellamy strode ahead to lead the group, leaving Octavia and I to fall into step side by side immediately behind him and we purposely allowed the girls some space to enjoy each other's company. The Rover doors closed behind us and I could still overhear their conversation as they followed us inside.

“That depends on your definition of going rogue.” Raven answered, her voice lighter than it had been in a while and hearing it gave me a deep sense of satisfaction.

“Oh, really?” Gina responded flirtatiously, prompting Octavia to raise a brow at me sneakily and I risked a quiet giggle. 

It was exciting to consider the way their relationship could develop and I hoped that I could count on seeing Raven smile like she was now more often. 

“I just hopped on a robotic arm and aimed it at the solar array.” Raven clarified, clearly enjoying herself as she recounted the details of the story with enthusiasm and I smiled at Octavia fondly. 

“I wish they’d bang already.” Octavia groaned in Trig, rolling her eyes dramatically and I scoffed at how unchanged her attitude was towards anyone hesitating to get together.

“Hey. Not everyone moves as quickly as you. Plus, she went through a trauma. It’s gonna take time for her to be ready to try again. I’m just glad to see her happy.” I pointed out defensively, referring back to all of the times that she had pressured me when I first confessed to my feelings for Bellamy and Octavia softened her expression.

“I know. She deserves it.” She admitted carefully, the remorse in her expression revealing that she was likely thinking about Finn too and I nodded in agreement.

“Shof op.” [Quiet.] Bellamy remarked as he glanced back at us, only to be met with glares from us both for his rudeness. “You’re like a couple of gossiping old women.” He added, cracking a smile and I pouted, annoyed that he could tell we were up to no good despite his limited understanding of Trigedasleng.

Whilst Raven and Gina continued chatting happily behind us obliviously, I became aware of the sound of distant music and laughter, and felt my stomach drop with dread. It grew louder as we closed in on the dining room that Farm Station had been assigned to and as we turned the corner to the open doors, we were met with a scene of celebration.

A host of Farm Station inhabitants were filling the tables, indulging in a luxurious meal with music blaring around them in a joyous environment. 

I felt sick as I took in the situation and the feeling only worsened as I noticed Pike sitting at the top table. He had conveniently placed himself in the seat where the President once would usually preside over his residents and as he noticed our arrival, he regarded us with the same dishonest gaze that Dante has always given us.

Pike rose to his feet with an unnaturally warm smile and held out his arms in a strange gesture.

“Welcome!” He announced as he began to approach us and I found myself clenching my jaw to contain my emotions. 

“Come, join us.” He offered enthusiastically to which only Bellamy moved any further into the space, but I couldn’t bring myself to react at all, hesitating on the spot with the other three girls.

“Someone’s made themselves at home.” Raven muttered under her breath and I was glad to find that it wasn’t only Octavia and I that felt uncomfortable with this. It seemed strangely morbid to revel in the mountain's comfort when it had been a mass grave mere months ago. 

“Natronas.” [Traitors.] Octavia spat under her breath, the fury that rose in her also bubbling in my stomach and I nudged her side subtly in support.

“Don’t let him make you lose your cool.” I warned, meeting her eyes with a meaningful expression and I waited for her to release a long breath, before encouraging her to step forward with me.

By now, I expected that Pike was already aware of both Octavia and I’s involvement with the grounders and after my previous outburst, I was cautious not to allow him any more ammunition to paint us as savages. The delicate balance here was obvious and it was important to ensure that the power remained where it should, with our current leaders who understood the need for peace.

“There must be thirty of them in here.” Octavia remarked as we reached Bellamy, attempting to gauge his reaction and although he seemed somewhat concerned, I could tell that he was not comprehending the impact of this as we were.

“Thirty-six, but the more, the merrier.” Pike responded cheerfully, oblivious to our disdain and Bellamy parted from us to greet him with a handshake.

The way that the two men smiled at each other made my stomach lurch and it took all of my self control to prevent the disgust from reaching my face. Though I tried to remind myself that Bellamy had a different impression of him to me, every time that Pike looked at my lover made my skin crawl.

“Thirty-six? Wow.” Octavia stated, the disapproval clear in her voice and I knew in that moment that it would be my responsibility to be the responsible one of us today. “The grounders are gonna think we moved in.” She added, forcing a tight smile after and Bellamy glanced back at us over his shoulder.

His gaze was a clear warning as he met Octavia’s eyes. He then turned to me as if wordlessly reminding me that it had been my idea to bring her along and I simply shrugged, unable to pretend that I didn’t agree with her sentiment.

“Well, there was no room at the Inn.” Pike excused, leaning past Bellamy to meet Octavia’s eyes with a charming smile, but she remained stern faced, demonstrating that she would not be fooled by him.

“And this is your option?” She interrogated, unwilling to drop this fight just yet and I noticed Bellamy’s shoulders tense at her attitude. She was damaging his pristine reputation and I could tell that he wanted to maintain his air of control around Pike.

“O.” Bellamy drawled, glancing over his shoulder at her again impatiently and she sighed, before sneaking an apologetic peek at me.

“I’m outta here.” She announced, dropping her bags into my hands with annoyance and turning to storm out without another word.

“Tavi!” I called after her, keen to encourage her to stay, but she ignored my cries as she stomped down the hall toward the exit, leaving me caught between the two siblings again.

Before I could make a decision on who to support, Pike gave Bellamy a wide smile that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and I resolved to stick with my earlier plan to never leave him alone with Bellamy.

“Spirited.” Pike commented idly as he watched Octavia leave, causing Bellamy to nod dismissively in response and I couldn’t prevent myself from butting into their conversation.

“She’s not spirited. She’s right. We've survived this long because of our truce with the grounders. Like it or not, your group being here endangers that.” I pointed out, causing the smile to fade from his face and as I caught sight of Bellamy’s expression, I softened my voice. 

“People died here. Lots of people. Many of our own were held captive and tortured inside of this facility, including me. This may be a great place for you, but try to respect that it’s a painful memory for some of us, not just the grounders.” I reminded him and though I was sure that Bellamy would prefer me to simply be friendly, I caught a hint of pride in the way that he smiled at me.

“I understand. My apologies.” Pike answered, his voice completely void of any authenticity as he returned to his political act and I forced a polite smile in response.

“I’m gonna go check on O.” Bellamy announced, relieving me from the strain of remaining at Pike’s side and I nodded gratefully.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll see if Raven and Gina need any help.” I reported, keen to make my escape and Bellamy caught me off guard by bending down to kiss my cheek before he left.

Though I knew that it was likely meant as a subtle way of telling me that he was proud of me for keeping my cool, I felt uncomfortable that Pike had witnessed it. 

When I turned to seek out the girls, I noticed that Pike was now studying me with interest and I rushed out of the dining hall before he could say anything to cause me to lash out. 

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

The gentle teaching methods that Knox had used to train me to help out in mechanical had done little to prepare me for working with Raven. Though I’d asked for simple tasks that could lighten her workload, her perfectionist nature made even that next to impossible and if it wasn’t for Gina playing the mediator, I was pretty sure that I’d have punched her by now.

It was a relief when Sinclair arrived to tell us that we were being called to a priority mission and we wasted no time in dropping our tools to follow him.

My mind was already racing with scenarios as we raced through the halls and lights flickered on and off all around us due to our unfinished work. 

“Why the hell are they calling us off?” Raven questioned, moving ahead to walk alongside Sinclair, and Gina and I followed, listening carefully for any insight that we could gain. “I’ve got tripped circuits all over the grid.”

“Oh, whatever it is, it supersedes fixing the power problem.” Sinclair responded with frustration and his words caused my stomach to drop.

When we’d left this morning, Kane had made it clear that keeping Farm station happy was a top priority and I couldn’t imagine anything positive being important enough to change that. 

“Hey. Try not to panic.” Gina remarked quietly and I turned my attention to her with confusion. “I know that face. Whatever it is, we’ll manage it. We always do.” She asserted with a reassuring smile and I sighed, disappointed that I was so easy to read nowadays.

“That’s easier said than done. Anything happening on the day of the Summit can only spell bad news.” I mumbled, feeling dread already gathering in my chest and she nodded in understanding.

As we rushed toward the dining hall, a spark exploded out of a nearby socket and both Sinclair and Raven paused to check that it could be made safe. Unable to wait any longer for answers, I rushed ahead and jogged my way into the hall to find Bellamy, Octavia and Pike surrounding an unfamiliar grounder.

“White war paint.” I stated, identifying her clan the moment that I got a clear look at her and she glanced up at me, thinning her eyes in interest. “Who is this? And why are we holding her?” I interrogated, turning to face the two men suspiciously and Bellamy shifted on the spot.

“This is Echo. The one I told you about, she helped me when I was trying to get you all out of the mountain.” He explained, seeming especially awkward about repeating this in front of Octavia and Pike, and I turned to examine her much more closely now, both of us seeming to be getting the measure of each other.

“You didn’t mention that she was Ice Nation.” I remarked, keeping my eyes trained on her and she seemed somewhat alarmed by my perceptiveness.

“Honestly, I didn’t know how to tell the difference when we met.” Bellamy confessed, shrugging apologetically as he spoke. “She came to tell us that the Summit is a trap. Our people are in danger.” He explained in a rushed manner and though I whipped around to face him in shock, Pike interrupted before I could get another word out.

“You’re one of them. So, why are you telling us this?” Pike grilled, glaring down at Echo aggressively and though I was also on edge with the situation, I didn’t appreciate his intimidating behaviour to our possible ally. 

“We abandoned Skaikru in the battle for the mountain.” Echo answered, returning Pike’s eye contact with no fear, then she turned to face Bellamy with guilt in her eyes. “It was wrong.” She added, earning a subtle nod of appreciation from him and at least a hint of my respect for admitting this.

“And won’t they miss you?” Pike suggested, leaning closer into her in an attempt to frighten her and her posture grew tense, making it clear that she was losing patience with his distrustful attitude.

“Maybe.” She answered sharply, glancing up at him with disdain and I watched her closely for any signs of deceit. “But that’s why we need to hurry.” She confirmed, scanning each of us impatiently and I was unable to tell whether she seemed genuine.

“Pike. She saved my life. We can trust her.” Bellamy asserted, his voice remarkably certain and though I was pleased to see him standing up to Pike, I couldn’t help an uneasy feeling at how quickly he had trusted this Ice Nation soldier.

Though I wanted to raise my concerns, I decided to wait until Pike couldn’t hear us so that I didn’t undermine Bellamy. It had been hard to convince him to trust the grounders in the first place and I definitely didn’t want to give Pike a chance to jump on my doubt, or to use it to manipulate Bellamy. 

“Listen up.” Bellamy announced as Sinclair, Gina and Raven finally arrived in the dining hall. “If we want to get to Polis before the attack, we have to move.” He ordered, as I noticed all of the guns that were being unpacked around us and began to feel the stress of this threat pushing down on me.

“Attack?” Sinclair questioned, staring at Bellamy in wide eyed disbelief and I was glad that he had arrived to add another voice of reason to the room. “Do we have confirmation of that?” He enquired, glancing between us worriedly and I looked over at Bellamy for an answer.

“We radioed, but no answer.” He revealed and I pushed my hair out of my face to rub at my temples. This was certainly not the result that I’d hoped for and knowing that Pike and the others weren’t responding only added to the urgency of the situation. 

“They may already be dead for all we know.” Pike suggested, attempting to rile the group into a frenzy and I jumped in to cut him off.

“No way. Arlo would have got them out.” I argued, noticing that Echo perked up at this name and resolved to follow this up later. “Indra wouldn’t allow anyone to harm them either. They have allies in there. Kane was extremely cautious since we moved this lot in. He might not have wanted to take any technology inside.” I theorised, attempting to find a less disastrous reason for their lack of contact and Pike scoffed loudly at my comments.

“We can’t possibly know that! The grounders they were meeting might even be involved. They could already have killed our people and if they have, we need to be ready to respond.” Pike exclaimed, pushing at my fragile self control and I moved closer to face him down.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love that. Any reason to start a fight with them.” I accused, squaring my shoulders as I spoke and as he opened his mouth to defend himself, I spoke over him. “What is it you called yourselves when you came across our first group? Grounder killers, wasn’t it?” I recalled, making him squirm in response and he turned to appeal to Sinclair instead.

“We can’t allow this to go unanswered.” He stated firmly, as if he were already certain that a crime had been committed and I was relieved when Sinclair refused to shrink under his aggressive behaviour.

“Don’t make this about the missiles.” Sinclair answered evenly, holding Pike’s gaze with confidence and I felt my heart skip a beat as I processed his words.

“This is about survival!” Pike defended passionately and fire began to rise from the pit of my stomach at this new development. “We don’t have the numbers, but the missiles in this mountain even the playing field and you know I’m right.”

“Why are we even talking about missiles? You want to blow up the place where our people are, just in case they’re dead? Are you completely insane?!” I yelled, my voice rising out of my control and everyone around me jumped at my sudden outburst, causing me to lower my voice before I spoke again. “This mountain has already annihilated too many grounder villages and you're seriously considering bombing their capital? How is that going to help anything? We’d just become the same as the monsters that we fought out of this place.”

“Indigo’s right. We shouldn’t be discussing measures like this. We need to focus on saving our people.” Gina piped up, helping to break the tension in the air and when I met her eyes, she gave me a supportive smile.

“Even if I did agree with you, we still don’t have the launch codes. So let’s focus on what we can do.” Sinclair argued and for a moment, I felt relieved that Pike’s tirade had come to an end, before Raven stepped in to reopen the argument.

“No, but we have me.” She announced, as I rolled my eyes at her in disappointment, but my expression was nothing next to Sinclair, who just stared at her with blatant annoyance for several moments.

“And you accuse engineers of arrogance?” He questioned under his breath as he approached her, his firm gaze expressing the many criticisms that he refrained from saying aloud and I gained a new respect for him, as he refused to be bullied into rash action.

“I’m growing as a person.” She shrugged carelessly, before wandering off with Gina at her side and Sinclair following closely behind, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Let’s go.” Pike growled in a low, threatening voice as he pulled Echo from her seat and I was on him before I’d even decided what I would say.

“Get your hands off her!” I spat, barging him backwards and placing myself between them. “You’ve made your feelings on grounders abundantly clear today. If you think that I’m leaving you alone with one, you’re even more unstable than I thought.” I stated, holding my position to shield her from his reach as I turned my face to Octavia.

“I can’t come with you. Watch this man like your life depends on it, because it very well might. Keep an eye on your idiot brother for me too. I can’t handle him sulking his way through another injury. And don’t forget that she is from Azgeda.” I blurted, noticing that Pike’s eyes widened as he realised that I could also speak Trig and Octavia nodded keenly back at me.  

“Don’t worry. I know a snake when I see one.” She answered, glancing at Pike with a smirk and I was relieved that she didn’t hesitate to support me. “And I’m always careful. If she’s up to something, I’ll find out. Besides, she knows that she can’t hide anything in Trig now.” She added, glancing back at Echo who was assessing us both with surprise, before Octavia stepped behind me to move her out of Pike’s reach far more gently than he had.

“Octavia will manage her. You can go.” I stated coldly, as he glanced over at Bellamy for support and when he didn’t receive it, he reluctantly left us.

“You’re not happy with this plan?” Bellamy suggested, approaching me with a concerned look and I sighed thoughtfully, glad that we could finally discuss this situation alone.

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. I just can’t figure out what.” I admitted, glancing up at him nervously and he furrowed his brows. “Just be careful not to be blindsided. I completely understand why you trust Echo, but try to remember that she is Azgeda. We don’t know how long she’d been locked up for when you met her, but now she’s been home for a while. Her loyalties will have changed. We’ve never been good at getting ahead of their plans and we don’t know if she’s part of their agenda somehow. She may not even know if she is.” I suggested as I desperately tried to consider every possible outcome, rubbing at my temples in stress and he pushed my hands away to cup my face.

“We’ll be careful, Inds. Eyes wide open. Nothing gets past you.” He promised, placing a kiss on my forehead and I sighed guiltily at his words. He thinned his eyes at me, realising that something was off and I glanced up sadly up at him, feeling immensely torn between commitments. “You’re not coming, are you?”

“Someone has to stay behind and make sure that they don’t blow up Polis. Besides, I’m not allowed in, remember? If they’re okay in there, Arlo will just be angry that I came.” I divulged, feeling immensely pressured by this responsibility and he smiled at me with understanding. “Please be safe. I know the stakes are high and that usually brings out your hero streak, but I’m gonna need you to be sensible. Pike’s already a loose cannon with a grudge against grounders. You don’t need any more risks.” I clarified, feeling as if it was impossible to know the right decision between staying here and joining them to keep an eye on Pike.

“I’ll keep things under control. Octavia will watch Echo and I can watch Pike. Have faith, Love. We’ll bring our people back.” He assured, caressing my face comfortingly and I tried my hardest to believe in him. “You just make sure no one here blows us up.” He added teasingly and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as he pulled me into a kiss. 

[justanother-unluckysoul]

Working My Way Back To You 6/10

Killian gets captured. When Emma finally rescues him, he’s traumatized and nearly broken from the torture he endured. Angst and h/c galore as Emma helps him through it.

I tried to go easy on the whumpy side of it since it’s supposed to be for Comfortember, but it’s me so I probably failed lol

Merry Christmas to my lovely readers! Hope you all are having a lovely time. Here’s a bit of fluff before we get back into the heavier angst. For the prompt “baking.”

Unbetad as always so mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @cocohook38 as requested :)

Read this chapter on AO3

Working My Way Back To You

Baking

Killian’s certain he’s never going to get over the marvel that is hot running water. Showers continue to be one of his favourite things about this realm – that and toilets. Basic hygiene had never been so easy. In fact, everything is easy. He can flip a switch and flood the room with light far more powerful than any lantern. He can turn a knob and the metal plates on the counter heat up without a fire. Never mind such amazing things like washing machines or heaters or even cars. And this thing called a mixer, which whisks ingredients together at the flick of a switch. Henry is grinning at him as he demonstrates this, and Killian tries to wipe the expression of astonishment off his own face.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Henry says, “Much faster than doing it by hand. Otherwise we’d never get this done before mom gets home.”

It had been Henry’s idea to bake these biscuits today, on Christmas Eve, while Emma was out dealing with some “grinches” who were apparently trying to ruin Christmas. Killian didn’t know what that meant, but Emma had given him a quick kiss and promised she would be back soon, and he’d decided he’d question her meaning later. He’s honestly quite relieved that she feels he’s finally recovered enough not to need her constant supervision. His stitches were removed earlier in the week, and he’s reluctantly been to see Archie after further insistence from Emma. Though Killian wasn’t comfortable sharing much of his trauma with the cricket, and even less of his feelings about it, Archie had treated him with nothing but kindness and understanding, which Killian supposed shouldn’t have surprised him, but it had. And Killian’s beginning to feel a little better, both physically and mentally. Some things are still problematic without the use of his still-splinted fingers, but Killian is nothing if not adaptable, and he’s discovered there are a lot of tasks that can actually be managed, albeit awkwardly, with just his hook and his thumb. So here they were, Henry’s enthusiasm for his self-appointed task having quickly garnered Killian’s interest, leading to this moment, which is Henry explaining no we have to do it like this with flour smudged across his cheek and Killian giving him a raised eyebrow as he challenged does it really need that much sugar? He’s starting to get the feeling that for all Henry’s knowledge on these modern kitchen tools, the lad may not have actually made this particular cuisine before.

“Yes,” Henry says firmly, a tone that leaves no room for further questioning.

Killian lets it go. Emma does like sweet foods, and since Killian hasn’t ever made snickerdoodles before, he thinks he probably should allow Henry to take the lead on this; however much it pains him to watch Henry pour that much sugar into the bowl. But he can’t resist making one last comment-

“Are you sure you’re not just making this up as you go, lad? Because ‘snickerdoodles’ doesn’t sound like a real food.”

“I’m not making it up,” Henry insists, “I’ve helped mom make them before.”

“Then where’s the recipe?”

“I read it on wickapeedia.”

And Killian’s lost again. He hasn’t a clue what a wickapeedia is.

“On what?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s a website. It has information on everything. Like, an encyclopedia, but on the internet.”

“Do you always get your recipes from this wicka… whatever?”

“Of course not.” Henry looks affronted before turning his attention back to their task. “Now, crack two eggs into this bowl. I’ll get the salt.”

Killian takes two steps away to grab the required eggs before he remembers, and he grimaces at the realization, shame washing over him.

“Henry, I… I can’t…”

“What?”

It takes Henry a moment, the room falling into silence – well, not quiet silence because there’s still the ever-present festive music playing somewhat discordant strains in the background, because Henry insisted on it. It’s a long, agonizing moment of scrutiny and Killian’s explanation dies on his tongue, an intense discomfort creeping up his spine. He can’t bring himself to put to words how useless he is.

“Oh, crap,” Henry says intensely, finally, wide eyed, “I’m so sorry, Killian, I forgot. Uh, you…” he casts his gaze frantically around the kitchen for something Killian can do with only a thumb and a hook, and apparently comes up with nothing.

Killian looks away, swallowing hard. He had thought himself crippled all those years ago when the Crocodile took his hand, and all the painful days following it as he struggled to learn how to function as less than whole, his body and soul wrecked in an instant by Rumpelstiltskin’s callous actions. He’d thought at the time that was the worst fate that could have been laid on him. But now he doesn’t even have the use of his right hand and he’s the most useless he’s ever been. Killian is struck with a desperate need to get away. Perhaps he will find some calm on the Jolly Roger. He glances out the window. There is a bank of clouds gathering in the distance, but the sun is still shining brightly.

“Never mind, lad, I can-”

“No, wait, you’re in charge of the mixer. Here, let me just-”

Killian watches rather dejectedly as Henry places the necessary ingredients in the bowl and sets it in place to be mixed, leaving Killian with the meagre job of pressing the button. While he appreciates Henry’s attempt to include him, it hasn’t done anything to alleviate his feel of inadequacy. Damn the men who did this to him, to the deepest depths of the Underworld. Simply leaving them locked in a brig seems an insufficient penalty for what they’ve done, and Killian muses on better ways to punish them while he watches the mixer whisking the ingredients together. He gets some satisfaction out of his rather grisly fantasies. But he knows they’ll remain only fantasies. As badly as he desires to hurt his torturers like they hurt him, he’s better than that now, and he forces his thoughts away from it.

Once the “snickerdoodles” are in the oven, Killian settles onto the couch. There’s not much he can do around the house yet, not until his splints are removed, so he distracts himself by playing a game of chess with Henry. It feels good, getting him out of his own head again. He slips easily into verbal sparring, and he’s taught Henry well because the lad is almost able to match Killian’s quick wit during their banter – but he still can’t quite match Killian’s ability to win at chess. He’s just about to trap Henry into a checkmate when-

“What the hell is that?” Killian will never admit how high his voice went in his fright, as the house is suddenly filled with a deafening screaming sound.

Henry bolts to his feet and bumps the chess board roughly in his haste, sending pieces flying.

“The snickerdoodles!” he shouts over the noise.

Killian’s fairly sure it’s not the snickerdoodles. He can’t be certain, of course, but creating baked goods that scream seems a bit odd, even for this realm. But smoke is billowing out of the kitchen. Killian doesn’t know how neither of them noticed until now; apparently, they’d been too immersed in their chess match. Henry’s frantically trying to rescue the biscuits, or something, and Killian’s at a loss for what he should be doing. Perhaps they should abandon the house. Perhaps he should call Emma.

“Open some windows! We have to clear this smoke!” Henry shouts, and he’s coughing now, and Killian continues to stand by helplessly because he can’t even unlatch a bloody window.

“Henry, I-”

“Damn it,” says Henry, and then a quick “Sorry!” for his language before he scampers around opening the windows himself.

If she were here, Emma would have pulled him up on it. Killian thinks they have more pressing concerns at this point. It seems the snickerdoodles are beyond saving.

“How do we turn this bloody thing off?” Killian asks.

“There should be a button on it. Or something.” Henry looks frazzled, flapping his hands about as if he can shoo the smoke out the window faster by doing so.

Killian looks up at the offending object, a white disc fastened to the ceiling, and his mind finally settles into a strategy.

“Henry, use a dishtowel to move the smoke,” he instructs.

He uses his hook to drag a kitchen chair into place under the still-shrieking disc, giving him the height he needs to… He can’t see the button Henry mentioned and the close proximity to the horrid noise is making his head feel like it’ll burst. Ah, well, time for a new plan then. He jams his hook into the side of the disc, close to the ceiling, and yanks hard downwards. The disc comes loose with a cracking sound as something gives way, and the screaming cuts off immediately. The broken disc clatters to the floor, just as the front door bursts open.

“Henry! Killian!” shouts a remarkably familiar voice, and Killian instantly regrets his hasty plan-making.

“Mom,” Henry splutters, “Uh, we were… Um, just… Oops?”

Killian quickly clambers off the chair. The smoke has abated somewhat, thanks to Henry’s waving of the dishtowel. Emma’s eyes are wide, her breaths a little quick, her phone in her hand like she was about to make a call. She looks frightened.

“Apologies, love. It seems the snickerdoodles required a little more attention than we gave them,” Killian says lightly, hoping to put her at ease.

“I saw all the smoke and I thought…” she laughs shakily, clearly struggling to pull herself together.

“We’re fine, mom, really. It got a little smoky, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Henry gives her a reassuring smile. Thankfully, seeing them unharmed seems to be enough to calm her, because she doesn’t even complain about the acrid smell of burned biscuits still pervading the kitchen. She shoves her phone back into her pocket and pulls them both in for a hug instead.

“Killian, you destroyed the smoke alarm,” she says with a shaky laugh when they break apart.

Killian looks at the item in question.

“We were certainly alarmed enough about all this, without its infernal screaming,” he says wryly, “But I admit, I may have a been… a little hasty with my method. Henry told me there was a button that would silence it?”

“Yeah. It’s right there.” She points out the button on the disc, easily noticeable now that Killian’s not being deafened by it. “But it’s okay. We can replace it.”

Once the blackened snickerdoodles are sufficiently cooled, Henry takes them out to the trash, and Killian pulls Emma into another embrace.

“I am truly sorry for scaring you, love,” he says softly, “Henry wanted to give you a surprise gift, and he said you would enjoy these biscuits. We were playing chess while we waited for them to cook, and time got away from us. But there was no fire. We were actually quite safe, despite how it must have appeared.”

“It’s okay, really. I overreacted.” Emma sighs heavily, her fingers curling gently around the back of Killian’s neck, content just to be held for a moment. “Ugh. I do love it, but all this Christmas stuff is so stressful.”

Killian coaxes her chin up with his thumb so he can kiss her, just briefly, because Henry will be back shortly and will undoubtedly make some comment about how gross they are if he catches them in such a position.

“I’m sorry I’ve added to that stress,” he says remorsefully, still so close, his mouth reluctant to let go of hers.

“It’s fine, Killian. Hey, did I ever tell you about that time…”

Emma launches into a colourful tale of a past Christmas endeavour, and of mistakes far greater than the snickerdoodle incident, and when Henry returns, he too shares some hilarious anecdotes. And they end up laughing until Killian’s sides hurt and Emma is wiping tears from her eyes, and Henry has collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles. Killian wishes he could just stay in this moment and this feeling of pure joy for the rest of his life.

After dinner, all three of them settle onto the couch, basking in the warmth of the fire and the twinkling of the lights on the tree in the corner of the room. Emma’s chosen a movie for them to watch, one that is apparently a “Christmas classic.” Killian hasn’t seen it before, but he doesn’t find it very captivating, though he doesn’t let Emma or Henry know that. He is extremely appreciative that they are including him in their holiday traditions, though he doesn’t quite understand this whole Christmas thing. It seems rather like a bunch of disjointed stories all strung together, and Killian still doesn’t get the connection between the birth of a god and an overweight man climbing down a chimney to deliver gifts. But no matter. He’s all warm and cosy, and he feels completely safe – a feeling that has been all too rare recently. And he wonders how he got so lucky to find such a family. His family. By all the gods, he’s a lucky man. Despite everything he is, everything he’s done, they love him. And come tomorrow, Snow and David will visit with their child, eager to celebrate Christmas with them. The thought makes Killian feel both elated and terrified, because they want to spend time with him and Emma and Henry and he’s so fortunate to have people like that, but they probably both know how broken he is and he won’t be able to stand their looks of pity.

When they wake to Henry knocking on their bedroom door loudly and gleefully shouting that it’s a white Christmas, it’s barely daylight.

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Emma calls out, her voice a bit hoarse from sleep.

“Okay!” and they hear him rushing down the stairs.

Outside, there’s the strange sort of quiet that heralds the falling snow, and Emma only burrows deeper into the soft blankets surrounding them, clearly having no desire to leave the cosy warmth of their bed. Killian props himself up on his elbow, a small smile curving his lips as he looks at her.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers, sleepy, and utterly gorgeous.

He really wants to kiss her right on the mouth, but he knows from past experiences that it’ll make her pull away from him, because ‘morning breath’ and all that. So Killian kisses her cheek instead, soft and gentle, and a calm warmth settles in his chest. His heart has never felt so full.

“Merry Christmas, Emma.”

[coreastories]

The Morning Before

Part 11 of Days and Nights of Forever 

The morning before she let him go, for what could well have been forever. 

Companion to the first part of The Thirteenth Rule

I love Episode 15. So much tenderness there, and so much heartbreak that it's my first time rewatching certain scenes when I finally decided to flesh out THIS outline. 

This is for Patty @pateetsie, who sent me a bucket of joy, and wanted some fluff. There's fluff here. :)

I've been cussed out told that there is no fluff in this chapter at all AT ALL. 😅

It was raining. Soft rain. The kind that washed away sleet if any had come in the cold night, the kind that spring asserted against any last vestiges of winter. And she was warm, so very warm with Gon spooning her and breathing onto her hair under their shared blanket. 

She wiped her eyes and swallowed the sniffling that had woken her up. He was here. There was no need for this.  

Gon tightened his arms around her--gently, without disturbing her wound--and kissed her on her hairline. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

She turned in his arms and she saw love and… something else in his eyes. She focused on love. Focused on how he looked like he wanted to kiss her. Focused on all the affection in that gaze. So she smiled at him and smiled wider when she saw that other thing recede from his eyes, even if just for now. 

His eyes brightened even more when she stroked his arm, clad in the sleeves of hospital pajamas. “What happened to your clothes? You didn’t get stabbed too while I was asleep?”

“Your nurse happened. She gave me this to wear and took my clothes to the laundry. She felt sorry for me trying to fit into this bed in those clothes.” 

“Oh yeah. That jacket certainly wasn’t for sleeping in.” She made a face. “Were they filthy?”

He grinned. “I don’t know. Probably. Frozen time and space also worked on my entire excretory system but I did go out of that place several times. Did I smell when you saw me in 2016? And last night? I’ve showered before getting back in here with you.” 

She shook her head, laughing. 

The rain continued in the background, falling a little harder, but still a soft, pleasant background as he kissed her. 

Tae-Eul sighed into that kiss, loving the feel of his lips and tongue against hers and ignoring the tears that spilled from her eyes again. He had also kissed her last night, but she was already half asleep by then, exhausted from everything, her adrenaline and her brain shutting down the moment Gon was finally there beside her, promising he wouldn’t leave her. 

So now she focused on that kiss. And nothing else. The sound of the rain helped. 

He brushed his thumbs against her cheeks and eyes, and kissed her eyelids and forehead, his hand a warm, solid weight on her cheek and neck. She placed her hand over his, wrapping her fingers around his thumb. 

He nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

She shook her head again. “Don’t mind me. I’m just glad you’re here. Don’t go.” 

They both ignored what returned to his eyes. 

She moved to get up and he nimbly jumped off the bed and rounded it to help her sit up without straining her middle. 

She usually had to roll to her right side and then use her elbow and arm to lever herself up. But he made things simple, wrapping his arm around her and simply lifting her up. 

She smiled up at him. “Thanks. Can you help me? My hair wash day was supposed to be yesterday. But I was busy.” 

His expression said he wasn’t happy about that, but he grinned all the same. “Of course. I can help you wash everything.” 

She slapped him on the arm and left him to laugh at his own dorkiness, pushing him aside to go to the bathroom. 

Having him there helped. Instead of struggling over the sink and getting the front of her hospital gown wet anyway despite covering it with a towel, he held a wash basin under her chin so she didn’t have to bend over to wash her face. 

They did the same thing when she brushed her teeth. 

Then he used the already damp towel to cushion the rim of the sink. He helped her position her head on that towel cushion just so, and he washed her hair, digging his fingers into her scalp, his eyes warm and attentive. Watching for any discomfort. Watching, period. She held his gaze for the first minute, then closed her eyes because the sight of him just...filled her so much and made her spill over with tears. It was ridiculous. 

But was it only yesterday that she didn’t know if she was ever going to see him again? 

Only yesterday when she felt both sad and relieved that she wasn’t--

She took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to dwell on any of that today. 

They had today and she hoped it was going to be a long day. 

She opened her eyes and he was still looking at her, now with one hand guiding the handheld shower over her hair and the other on her forehead so the water from her rinse wouldn’t run down her face. 

“You’re really good at this. You can go professional.” 

“No one would hire me. Everyone else would lose their tips because the customers would flock to me.” 

They both laughed. She loved seeing him laugh. She had missed that laugh so much. 

He wrapped her hair in the towel, tucking everything carefully so she wouldn’t drip, and then helped her get up again. Once she was on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tucked her against him. 

Her arms were already around his waist, her hands stroking his back. She loved how warm he felt under the thick cotton pajamas. Loved the solid feel of him enclosing her. Loved the weight of his head as he pressed his cheek against the towel securely knotted around her hair. 

Loved that he was there for her to hold. 

They stayed like that, just holding each other, until they heard someone enter her hospital room outside the en suite. He took her hand and they went out together. The nurse paused on her way out the door. She looked at them and smiled. 

“I left your clothes there for you,” she said to Gon, then turned to Tae-Eul. “They’ll send breakfast in a bit. I’ll make sure it’s enough for two. Then I’ll come back with your IV and check on your wound.”

She just smiled again when they both bowed to thank her. 

Tae-Eul looked at Gon. “What did you tell her? Why does she love us so much? She wasn’t happy with me last night.”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled in that half-smug, half-self-deprecating way only he could pull off. “Maybe we just look good and romantic?” 

“Romantic is not the word in my head right now, but it rhymes.” 

Breakfast was quick. She just wanted to start the day. Maybe they could sneak out now that the rain had stopped and the sun was out. She was already done with her bowl of dakjuk before it occurred to her that she could have made Gon feed her. Ridiculous thought. But maybe later. 

The nurse came back and scolded Tae-Eul for removing her IV while she redid it all. Tae-Eul didn’t flinch, but Gon did. When the nurse left, Tae-Eul said, “You’re not scared of needles, are you?” 

“Of course not. But this is the second time I’m seeing you with an IV. That’s two times too many.” 

“I’ll take an IV over a cast any day.”

He rolled his eyes but only shook his head in wry amusement. 

He changed back to his black pullover and trousers in the en suite and then they were back to staring at each other while he blow dried her hair. 

She wanted to ask him what he was thinking of, but she already knew, so she took hold of his pullover between her fingers, and it was enough to quiet her rising panic. 

“I bet you take longer getting your hair done.”

“Not really. It’s fast when you have the right tools and two people doing the work,” he said with a straight face. He laughed at the look on her face. “It’s really just mousse and gel, you know.” 

“Why don’t you just slick it back like Jo Yeong does with his hair?”

“Too easy. And he’s been doing it since he got tired of his bowl cut. So I can’t exactly copy him.” 

“He had a bowl cut?” 

“Yeah. It looked ridiculous. You were so cute as a kid. I saw your pictures at your house, of course, but seeing you in person was different. You were probably so cute as a baby.” 

“No, no, I wasn’t a pretty baby.” This wasn’t a subject she wanted, though she applauded herself for being able to say the word baby now. She was going to be fine. “Let’s go downstairs for my checkup so we can go outside.” 

She was glad Gon didn’t have to be there when her bandage was changed. The wound was clean but still angry, and it was going to leave an inch of scarring despite the good stitching. She took her antibiotics and the nurse injected another dose of pain meds in her IV. 

She wondered how long she could stay awake with those doses in her bloodstream, but she managed. Oh, she managed. 

That morning was beautiful, even if she was warned against straining herself and had to be wheeled around, even if Gon was already steeling himself against that regret and unassailable decision she’d seen in his eyes, even with her barely hanging on to composure by touching him all she could. 

He fed her bibimbap, and she fed him his bowl of instant ramyeon in return. When one noodle was too violent and broth splashed all over both their faces, they wiped each other’s cheeks and mouths with their hands, laughing hard enough for her wound to twinge and remind her it was still there. 

He helped her wash up, and then he helped her lie down because it was probably so obvious that she was fighting sleep. 

She curled up facing him in his seat, and she memorized everything about him, that ridiculously perfect hair, his beautiful eyes, that nose, that cheek that hid her favorite dimple, those lips she knew could turn her breathless and mindless and boneless. 

And his hands, both clasped and completely enveloping her hand. Those big hands that could deftly handle chalk, shoot hoops, fix cars, knock men down with a single stroke from his sword or his crop, hands that commanded the manpasikjeok and yet were also trapped by the manpasikjeok. 

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t cry again. “You’ll probably leave when I sleep.”

“No.” 

All right. She’d take that. She smiled. She wanted to say, “Don’t go.” But that was no longer right to say now, not when their morning was fast turning into evening. She would sleep, and then maybe when she woke up, she would have a better argument than simply telling him they should just… not save the world. 

She opened her eyes to drink him in, one last time. “Saranghae.” 

He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to hers for several long moments. “Nado.” 

[whittakerjodie]

Time to Tell (13th Doctor X Timelord!Reader)

Request: @biscuitfam​ “For your requests opening up; I was wondering if I can get a 13 x reader where the reader feels like the Doctor is pushing her away? Much angst and fluff ensue? 🥰”

a/N: So I did write something long today but it didn’t end up vibing so I had to (temporarily, hopefully) scrap over 3k words.... So I wrote this up to cheer myself up! Sorry that it’s so short, and I hope that you enjoy! Sorry there’s not fluff, after losing the other fic I was feeling pure angst. 

Words: about 1.5k? 

   You stared across the library at the Doctor, who was tearing apart the large grandfather clock. Although she claimed it had a fault and could do with an added AM/FM radio, you knew that it was for the sole purpose of having something to do while you relaxed between adventures. Likely, the moment she completed tearing it into pieces, she’d stitch it back up again and pretend like she’d changed something. It’d only been an hour of her working on it, but roughly seven since she’d talked to you.

Typically, after dropping the Fam back off on Earth, you and the Doctor spent some quality time together. Cuddling, experimenting, travelling, amongst… other things. But as of late, ever since your run in with the Master, she’d pulled away and collapsed in on herself, avoiding your cuddles and your science experiments. What she didn’t ignore, however, was the travelling.

Over and over again you found yourself in increasingly dangerous adventures, nearly every free minute you had. The Doctor claimed that it was the randomizer acting up, but you’d caught a glimpse of her screen long enough to know that she was tracking the Master. It wouldn’t be as disappointing if she had bothered to tell you about it.

You tried to push down your hatred for the your common time lord enemy and instead focus on the Doctor. 

“Doctor?” You murmured. She hummed in response and said nothing further.

“Doctor?” You repeated. Another hum, louder this time. 

“Doctor!” You shouted.

“What?” She snapped, dropping her screwdriver. Your eyes widened at her volume, which was accompanied by an unexpected sharpness in her voice. It cut through you, forcing you to throw up a small shield.

“Hey!” You shouted. “I’m trying to get your attention. It’s been hours.”

The Doctor moved through the piles of tools and parts she had around her lap and found a watch seemingly out of nowhere. “Oh. So it has.”

You sat up from the couch, abandoning your book. “Doctor, come on. What’s wrong?”

She scrunched up her face and pointed to the grandfather clock. “What’s wrong is this clock doesn’t have a radio. I thought I explained that to you.”

You scoffed at her ridiculousness, walking up behind her and sinking to the floor so you could wrap your arms around her from behind. She tensed under your hold and you frowned, pulling back. “Not even a hug?” You leaned forward to look her in the eye. “Doctor, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about this now” She grumbled, and she shot up abruptly. You leaned back with a gasp as she exited the room hastily, not sparing a second glance at the grandfather clock.

_________________

The Doctor kept the fam around after that. A lot more than usual. Whereas before she would wait a week or so before picking them up at the usual time, she started flashing forward directly to the next time they were available without a second thought.

“Are you wearing the same outfit you were wearing last week?” Yaz laughed as she finished giving you a hug. You sent a quick glare the Doctor’s way. She was, of course, looking away from you and saying hi to Graham and Ryan, catching up with them as if it hadn’t been five minutes since they last exited the time machine.

“Not last week” You grumbled. “I saw you five minutes ago”

Yaz took in your expression and your tone and matched your frown, giving the Doctor a once-over.

“Is she being weird again?”

“Define weird. Not talking to me? Avoiding me? Being reckless? Well, more reckless than usual but..”

“I assume you’ve tried to talk to her, right?”

“Of course. But it’s like she’s closed herself off. I mean, we had problems with this in her last regeneration, but it was backwards. First he was cold, then he was warm. Now it’s like she’s just shut it all off again. “

Yaz gave you another reassuring hug. “Maybe next time she picks us up, just tell us if it’s only been a minute. We’ll flat out tell her no.”

You shrank a little, feeling guilty. There was a reason why you and the Doctor invited so many companions along with you. They longed to see more than what they could on Earth and deserved to do so. It was practically your duty to give it to them, and it was a duty you enjoyed fulfilling.“No, Yaz, that’s not fair on you guys. Plus I like taking you places.”

“Alright then, if you say so. But I promise, just ask and we’ll do it.”

And eventually, you did ask. After the adventure, one without a full conversation with the Doctor, the fam were all dropped off on Earth. And not 10 minutes later, the Doctor was landing in Sheffield roughly a week after that in Fam-time. She landed just outside of Yaz’s flat, throwing the door open with a faux smile. Yaz stood out the door, coffee mug in hand, sipping from it. She threw a quick wink at you.

“Sorry Doctor, we’ve all got a bit busy this week. Grahams on a trip with some work friends, Ryan’s trying things out with Tibo, and I’m trying to connect with my mum a little bit. Maybe next week?”

The Doctor blinked, clearly surprised by her response. You nearly laughed. She clearly wasn’t used to people turning her down for trips. “Oh. Makes sense, I suppose. Uh… Be seeing you then.”

When she shut the door, her eyes met yours for the first time in a couple hours.

“That was odd.” She murmured, leaning against the TARDIS doors.

“Was it?” you hummed, fidgeting with the pages of your book. You knew that now was the time to talk with the Doctor properly.

“Maybe I’ll just… pop ahead to next week then.”

You tensed, but not enough to stop yourself from jumping up from your seat and quickly crossing the room to beat her to the console. Somewhat obnoxiously, you stretched your arms along it’s surface so she couldn’t have access to the buttons and levers. Her eyes widened, trying to step forward. You leaned further back against the console, daring her to try again.

“Y/N? What are you doing?”

“Stopping you?” You cleared your throat to hide the nervousness. Instead of holding onto the console, you reached forward to grab her hands. “Listen, there’s a reason why they didn’t come with. We all decided that me and you really needed to have a sit down. “

The Doctor’s hands tensed in yours, her eyes hardening. “We don’t need to talk about anything.”

You scanned her face, hearts tearing at the way it seemed so … foreign from the Doctor’s usual self. There were layers of protection clouding her eyes, ones that you knew were necessary and ones that you knew could and should be broken through to get through to her. 

“Come on,” You whispered, pulling her into a hug. “I don’t care if we sit here for hours, days. I want to know what’s wrong.”

The Doctor’s muscles relaxed slightly, accepting your hug. 

“Y/n…” She murmured, arms gripping you a little tighter. You felt the touch of something wet against your neck. A Tear. You leaned back just enough to brush a second one away, then hugged her tighter. 

“You can tell me, Doctor.”

There was a silence sitting between the two of you despite your closeness. A horror that had laid unspoken for weeks, one strong enough render the Oncoming Storm herself speechless. Something so abhorrent that she couldn't possibly tell you, her closest and oldest friend. 

“It’s about Gallifrey”

[batmanie]

Old Habits - scriddler

“Jeeezus!!!” The yelp was quite loud and – to be honest – quite satisfying. Eyes wide, and with a hand clutching onto his shirt, exactly where the heart would be, Nigma made a perfect example of someone who was suffering a cardiac arrest. His chest was rapidly rising and falling as he was trying to catch his breath. “Did I scare you?” He knew he did, and it felt so strange that he was still able to enjoy those little things in his life after all he'd been through. “You look like you've seen a ghost.” “Perhaps I'm seeing one?” Edward had to take a moment to collect himself, his voice was still hoarse and breathless, which would have made the old Scarecrow smirk – not the new one, though. The 'new him' didn't know what fun was anymore. “And it's an ugly view,” Riddler frowned. “How did you even...” “Survive?” Crane cut in with the most casual tone. He took a step toward the source of the light but his whole head was hidden in the shadow of his hood. “How did I escape? Crawl out of the sewers? Drag myself back to the town with a broken leg to get medical attention? Well, obviously not thanks to you...” “I was going to ask: How did you manage to make yourself look even more ridiculous than before?” It was almost jovial how quickly Nigma was getting rude and offensive when feeling attacked. 'Some things never change', Scarecrow thought with a pang of nostalgia. “It is good to see you too, Edward.” It really was, even if Riddler didn't look too happy to see him. This little reunion in the dark and unwelcoming system of the underground tunnels which were currently Riddler's hideout was giving Scarecrow the false but somewhat soothing impression that nothing had changed while he was gone. “How have you been?” He decided to keep the conversation going – talking was one of Riddler's favorite activities after all. “Perfect!” Nigma waved his hand in a nonchalant gesture. Crane, being no less observant than he had always been, had already noticed all the signs that were telling otherwise. The room they were in, one of many in this maze of a place, looked like it hadn't been cleaned up in ages. Multiple papers were scattered across the floor along with some cables, tools, and all kinds of trash. Riddler must have spent a lot of his time down here, as his skin was so pale that it probably hadn't seen any natural sunlight in months. His cheeks were hollow, his hair messy and there were dark circles around his eyes. And in this sad picture, the only two things that seemed to be alive were Edward himself, and his eyes – radiating confidence, intellect and thirst for revenge.

“I assume you didn't kill the Bat?” “Not yet.” The man shrugged, pretending not to care but at the same time nervously tapping his fingers on the desk – one of his many motor tics. “But with my new plan he is as good as dead, don't you worry about that! As you can see, I'm very busy right now and I don't need you, or anyone, to distract me. I am a perfectly self-dependent one-man army, capable of besting the Bat on my own!” His angry, slightly high-pitched tone told Scarecrow just how much Riddler had actually changed. His time-alone had done the man no good but he was too far gone to notice that. “Do you want me to leave then?” “Yes, please!” Edward crossed his arms. It was more of an angry order than a polite request. “If you expected that I will ask you to stay, just because we used to be... whatever you want to call that. Well, sorry to disappoint you,” he turned his back to Scarecrow, now facing the desk littered with some blueprints. “I bet you are still very busy playing dead – so busy that for the past six months it didn't cross your mind to inform me that those news about the crocodile eating you alive were exaggerated!” Now, there was something new in Edward's voice, something similar to a sad and bitter undertone. Jonathan immediately caught on that shift and he had to admit, it got him interested. “Would it have been so hard, to contact me earlier?” The man continued, holding onto the edge of his desktop, as if it was a lifebuoy preventing him from drowning in his own madness. “Instead of treating me like I was nothing to you? Like I was one of those morons who wrote you off as dead?!” “I was dead...,” Scarecrow stated with a hushed, almost murmuring tone. “Jonathan Crane died that night in the sewers of Gotham. Now, there is only Scarecrow.” Riddler turned his head and laughed mockingly, the short, bark-like sound lacked any joy. “Oh, really? You seem rather fine for a dead-man!” “What makes you think, I am fine?” Riddler went silent and looked at him, surprised. It was a long, calculative stare, the longest one Edward had graced him with yet. Jonathan was sure, Riddler was about to ask him about the leg brace – the newest addition to Scarecrow's already terrifying look. He didn't – his gaze lingered on it but soon wandered higher. Jon stepped forward, sensing that this was the time to present his 'new face'. He took another step toward the man so the two of them were really close now. There was the desk behind Edward's back – no place to run – and even if the situation seemed harmless, Jonathan could already sense the tension between them. Slowly, he pulled his hood down, revealing the disturbing view underneath. Riddler's blue eyes widened at the sight of the dirty piece of cloth stitched to the very skin of Jonathan's face. Edward's right hand twitched and instinctively reached to examine the stitching but before his fingers touched the fabric, the man stopped himself. “Are you...insane?” He breathed out, in a half-shocked, half-furious manner. Scarecrow observed his reaction with anticipation, their eyes locked together as both of them refused to look elsewhere. “It felt like a necessity back then,” Crane made sure his voice was as smooth and chill as possible. He had quite a story to tell, however, he doubted Edward would understand him. “I had to patch up the open wound that used to be my face. All I had, was my old burlap mask so that was my first choice. Not the smartest one, I admit, since the infection spread through my whole body just a week later, leaving me delirious and weak for the next two months. And it was only worse from there...” Edward just stared at him, saying nothing even though he looked like he wanted to. Driven by old habit, Crane observed how the small veins over the man's temples pulsated with the rush of blood, and at the same time, he did a quick analysis of his own actions. What exactly had he expected from Nigma? Was it his pity that he sought? Did he desire to see, how poorly the man was doing without him? Well, he had gotten a taste of that, but did it please his cold, dark heart? “As you can see,” Scarecrow pulled up his hood and backed off, letting Riddler return to his comfort zone, “...I wasn't exactly in shape to come to you earlier. I did not mean to offend you...” Oh, so it was making peace then, was it? That was the purpose behind coming here after all those months. To convince himself, to convince Edward, that everything was, as it had always been – even if it was not. “Well,” Nigma awkwardly cleared his throat, his eyes examining the dirty, stone flooring for a little while before he was able to look at his guest again. “I guess, I have no choice but to accept your reasoning.” “That's very generous of you, Edward.” Riddler tried to smile but it came out more like a nervous twitch. “But where are my good manners,” he reminded himself and it seemed like all the resentment that had been there before, had vanished. An almost child-like eagerness replaced it. “Sit down, please.” He offered Scarecrow the only chair he got in his cramped, lonely dumpster. “Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Hot cocoa? I had a second mug...somewhere around here.” “No, thank you, Edward,” Crane stopped him from searching through the dusty shelves. “I can't have hot beverages just yet. But I appreciate your effort. I think I will go now.” “Already? Why don’t you stay longer? I will share some juicy details about my next, big plan with you, and I can even show you a prototype of my latest contraption. I promise, it will blow your mind, haha. Metaphorically speaking, of course.” Edward must have missed that – talking to someone who would just sit down and listen to his crazy ideas.

To be honest, he himself might have missed the sound of a human voice just a little.

Deep down, Scarecrow knew his days were numbered, his body broken beyond repair. And it was his fear of dying defeated, humiliated, and forgotten that brought him back to Riddler.

...because of all people, it was Riddler who could understand that fear best. “Fine... Let’s talk about that plan of yours.”

[spaceskam]

covered in scars i did nothing to earn

Summary: 5 times Forrest finds old scars on Alex’s body + 1 time he sees a new one

warnings: mentions of past self-harm, descriptions of violent/dangerous situations, past child abuse, sexual situations, vague mention of 2x06 but not That Thing from 2x06

.1.

Forrest quite liked the feeling of Alex’s skin.

He was scarred beyond understanding, but his skin was still soft and taken care of with only little bumps. His body hair sometimes camouflaged the little ones and Forrest had created a game with himself to find them like an Easter egg hunt when they were in bed together.

Tonight was no different as he kept his head on Alex’s shoulder and dragged his fingers through his chest hair. It was barely there, but it was enough to play optical illusions.

“Oh,” he breathed, rubbing his index finger gently into a little knot of a scar over his heart, “What’s that from?”

Alex lifted his head to look at it as if he didn’t know before letting his head all back to the pillow. Forrest kissed his arm before snuggling back into his shoulder.

“Got stabbed,” Alex said like it wasn’t a big deal. Forrest lifted his head and stared at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“You got stabbed?” he said, trying to keep the calm demeanor that Alex had, “Over your heart?”

“Yeah,” Alex yawned, his eyes settling closed, “Leather tools or whatever.”

“You got stabbed with a leather slicker?” Forrest said, eyes wide as he looked closer at the scar. It was still sort of red, newer than the rest. “When did that happen?”

Alex was quiet and Forrest wondered if he’d fallen asleep, but when he looked at his eyes, he was looking right back at him. He looked like he didn’t understand why he was asking.

“I don’t really want to talk about this,” Alex said cautiously. Forrest adjusted himself just a little, worry still heavy in his system. 

“Well, are you at least okay?” Forrest asked. Alex nodded, combing his hands through his hair.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m fine.”

Forrest wasn’t quite sure he believed that, but he pressed a kiss over the scar and laid his head down on Alex’s chest again.

.2.

Forrest felt stupid.

He’d stopped kissed Alex the minute he got on his knees, instead finding his eyes locked on the scars lining Alex’s hip. Precise lines, all the same size and all in a row with the occasional vertical line across them. They were old, that much was clear, but they were there. He hadn’t noticed them before.

“You okay?” Alex asked, looking down at him. Forrest quickly made it look like he wasn’t staring, like he wasn’t overthinking everything Alex had told him about his childhood, like he wasn’t terrified for a boy he he’d never met.

But this was a man. He wasn’t going to bring it up and make him feel guilty for what he couldn’t change.

“Yeah,” Forrest nodded, pushing a kiss on Alex’s lower stomach, “I’m okay.”

As he settled himself between Alex’s thighs, he couldn’t help but look for similar scars. He found them, too, a row high on his inner thigh. Forrest’s stomach dropped, but he tried not to think about it as he took Alex into his mouth, doing his damnedest to make him feel good. 

But, because Forrest was notorious at self sabotage, he found himself thinking about the other people Alex had slept with in his life. Had they noticed? Alex had told him that most of them were quick fucks in dark allies, so they probably hadn’t. But Michael Guerin had seen them, surely. Had he made Alex feel okay about them? Had he comforted him? Had he gotten the entire story?

Forrest zoned out for too many seconds in a row and started actually choking to the point he fell back on his ass as he sucked in a deep breath. Alex was staring down at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, voice sweet and full of genuine concern, “I’m sorry, did I-”

“No, you didn’t do anything, I’m just stupid,” Forrest laughed, managing a smile as he looked up at him, “I was thinking about dinner and forgot what I was doing.”

“Oh, jeez, I’m that much of a turn off?” Alex laughed, holding his hand out to help him to his feet. Forrest shook his head.

“No, I just didn’t eat much today,” Forrest lied. Alex gave an exaggerated pout.

“You should’ve said something, you wanna order pizza?” Alex suggested, pulling him in closer. Forrest rested his head on Alex’s, giving him a small kiss and loving the way he smiled against his lips. 

"Sounds good,” Forrest said. Alex smiled wider and pulled up his jeans before finding his phone. Forrest laid against his chest, letting Alex wrap his arms around him and order the pizza while he held him close without question.

Someone had to have showed Alex he was loved and needed, right? He wouldn’t be this sweet if they hadn’t.

Besides, they were old. He would be okay as long as he remembered that.

.3.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Stop asking me or I’ll change my mind,” Alex laughed, quickly followed by a sneeze that rocked through his whole body and a loud groan. Forrest smiled in adoration, huffing a little laugh as he scooted a little closer. 

Forrest moved closer and gently pulled Alex’s stump into his lap, giving him one last look to make sure it was okay before he slowly started massaging the scar like Alex had showed him. It was something he’d seem Alex to before, but he never stared and had never offered to help. Help, this was the first time Alex even let him touch this specific scar. It was a lot for him and it was a massive privilege. 

“So, what does this do exactly?” Forrest asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Well, it’s a desensitization technique that they made me start doing before I got my prosthetic. I think I could technically stop doing it, but it helps a lot with phantom pain and on days where I don’t use my prosthetic, it keeps the scar tissue used to movement and friction, stuff like that,” Alex explained, voice nasal from his stuffy nose. Forrest smiled a little helplessly at the sound.

“Do you want me to wash it too?” Forrest offered. Alex made a face.

“I can do that when I go to brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” Forrest said, not wanting to push. Alex hummed and settled into his pillow more. He was cute when he let his guard down. Well, he was always cute, but it was infinitely more obvious on days like this when he was all soft and cuddly. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on his other leg.

“Don’t kiss me, you’re gonna get sick,” Alex scolded. Forrest laughed.

“It’s your leg, no sickness germs are going to seep out and get me sick anymore than just being around you will,” Forrest said. Alex groaned.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” Alex whined before repeating the same phrase he’d been saying since he got sick the day before, “You should go home.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Forrest insisted. Alex sighed semi-dramatically and looked up at him with the world’s sweetest eyes. 

Not for the first time, Forrest wondered just how much Alex felt his own feelings. He always seemed hardened, but his eyes betrayed him and showed just how big his heart was. Forrest kissed his leg again.

“Thank you,” Alex sighed softly, “For taking care of me.”

“Always.”

.4.

“Stupid fucking hair regulations.”

“You could always say fuck the man and grow it out all long and nice,” Forrest suggested, honestly kind of sad as Alex plugged in the clippers. He hadn’t seen Alex with regulation hair, but he knew he liked having something to put his hands through.

“Not an option, unfortunately,” Alex huffed, turning on the clippers and just taking it to his head without hesitation. Forrest visibly grimaced as the side just fell off. “Stop it, you’re making this harder.”

“I’m sorry,” Forrest sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. 

“It’s okay,” Alex said, buzzing off more. He left the top a little bit longer than the sides, but it wasn’t long enough. It really felt like the end of an era. Forrest watched closely, still, and he felt his eyebrows slowly come together as he saw a visible white line on the side of his head.

“Do you have a scar on your head?” he asked bluntly. Alex looked at him through the mirror.

“Yeah.”

“How?”

Alex didn’t answer right away, touching up his hair with unmatched precision. It made Forrest wonder how young he was when he started doing that by himself. Whenever he was in the military, he always had to get someone to help. Alex didn’t.

Eventually, Alex was done and he looked like a new person. Like a soldier. Forrest had mixed feelings.

“My dad made us keep regulation cuts when we were kids,” Alex explained, “My brother didn’t use a guard. Pretty sure he didn’t do it on purpose.”

Forrest’s whole body tensed and his eyes widened, involuntarily feeling the pain of it secondhand. Alex just stared at him, unflinching and unbothered. Maybe that was why he liked his hair long. There was a doubt in him on whether his brother had deliberately cut his head open.

“You okay?” Forrest asked cautiously. Alex nodded, shrugging it off.

“Yeah, my dad gave me stitches, I’m fine.”

The worst part was he said it like it was normal.

.5.

Forrest had his arms wrapped around Alex as tight as he could with the center console between them, shushing him as he sobbed into his chest.

He wasn’t sure what set him off. They’d been fine enough, just walking around the park and holding hands and talking about getting ice cream. Something had switched in him though as they passed the playground and Alex suggested they go right then, so they went back to the car. And then on the drive to the ice cream shop, Alex broke into tears. Forrest pulled over immediately to soothe him.

He knew Alex was a bit off when he woke up that morning, so he suggested the park to give him something chill to think about it. He didn’t expect anything there would set him off. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Forrest promised, trying to breathe in sync with Alex to ground him. It took awhile, but he eventually calmed down. He didn’t let go of Forrest’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered, “I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, it’s okay. Don’t feel bad,” Forrest promised, pressing a soft kiss into the side of his head. Alex took another shaky breath, not moving from his place pressed into Forrest's chest.

Forrest thought back through all of the things Alex had subtly revealed about his childhood, trying to find a moment that could've hinted about a playground or a park being a trigger. He couldn't think of one, the closest one being his mom bringing all four of her sons to a park the day she ran off without a goodbye. But Alex never got like this when he talked about his mom.

"I'm sorry I brought you here," Forrest said, "I didn't know."

"No, it's just..." Alex said, sniffling as he sat up a little, "It's just a bad day. Could've been anything."

"But I knew that, so I'm still sorry," Forrest insisted. Alex huffed a small laugh, wiping his face dry as he sniffled again.

"You're too good to me," Alex said. Forrest shrugged and didn't say anything. He didn't feel like he was too good for Alex. In fact, he was still quite sure he wasn't good enough for him at all. "Guess I kind of owe you an explanation."

"You don't owe me anything," Forrest promised. Alex sniffled, shaking his head.

"No, I never give you an explanation, but this time I have one," Alex said, taking a deep, steadying breath. Forrest listened intently. "This, um, this was the park my dad took me when I was little when I got into trouble at school. I was, uh, super antagonistic in those years right after my mom left, I was so mad at everyone all the time. But, uh, he would take me here and every single time I could trick myself into thinking it was going to be okay. We'd walk around for an hour and we'd talk about what happened. He'd ask me why I did it, talk through it. It always seemed like it was going to end well. Then, um, then..."

"Alex," Forrest said softly, shaking his head, "You don't have to–"

"Then he told me to pick my own switch," Alex finished, breathing heavily. Forrest felt sick. "'Cause having a reason didn't excuse my actions, he said. I don't know, I just saw that tree and I just..."

"Jesus, Alex, I'm so sorry," Forrest breathed, leading him back to lay against his chest. He went willingly. He thought about Alex's body and tried to remember where scars from that might be. But Alex was six when his mom left, the chances of those having faded by now were high. And then Forrest was faced with the image of six year old Alex walking through the park, holding his dad's hand, and picking out the stick he'd get beaten with later that evening. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Alex said, "I-It's not even that big of a deal, tons of people had to do that, I'm just having a bad day."

"It doesn't matter how many people had to do that, it's still fucked. You're allowed to be upset with that no matter what kind of day it is," Forrest insisted, "I'll pick a different park next time."

Alex gave a soft laugh, "Okay."

"You still want ice cream?" he wondered. Alex sniffled and shrugged. "How about we stop by the store and I'll run in and get some and then we can eat it in bed with Buffy?"

Alex took another breath, steadier than any of the ones before.

"I'd like that."

.+1.

Forrest woke up to frantic knocking on his front door and Buffy barking.

"Who the fuck–"

He stopped speaking when he opened the door to see Michael and Kyle carrying a limp Alex between them. He didn't even ask questions as he got out of the way, letting them pull Alex inside and lay him on the coffee table. Kyle ripped open his shirt to reveal a bullet wound in his stomach. Buffy barked in concern beside them, trying to peer onto the table.

"Oh my God," he breathed, panic rocking through him as he saw his boyfriend who said he was just going a recruitment trip. That wasn't supposed to lead to this.

"Sorry, you were just the closest and we can't bring him to the hospital without Isobel because they'll ask questions," Kyle explained.

"I-I don't understand," Forrest breathed, "How did he..."

"Get shot? Because your boyfriend is determined to die a martyr," Michael said, not taking his eyes off of the wound. Forrest could barely think straight. Actually, he couldn't at all. "Can you put the dog away?"

"He'll be okay," Kyle promised, looking up at Michael as Forrest dazedly led Buffy to the bathroom, "Do your thing."

And then Forrest really was hallucinating his entire night because Michael's hand started glowing.

It was alight for a few seconds before Alex's eyes opened. Michael lunged to the side, grabbing the bag Kyle thrusted at him and vomiting in it in the same moment Alex groaned in pain.

"Forrest, come distract him, I don't have any anesthetics," Kyle instructed, gloves somehow already on his hands. Forrest was shaking and his mind was scrambled, but he obeyed and knelt by Alex's head. He held his head in his hands.

"Hey, babe, definitely would've liked a heads up," Forrest said. Alex gave a dopey smile, still sweating and clearly in pain. Forrest gave him a kiss on the forehead and stole another look at his abdomen. The wound looked fifty times better than it had before Michael did the glowy thing. He filed that away for questions to ask later.

It was when Kyle neared it with a suture needle that Forrest looked back to Alex. He tensed whenever the needle pierced him, but he just took a shallow breath to keep still. He didn't scream, didn't flinch, just breathed. Forrest found his hand and let him squeeze even if it hurt.

"You're doing great," Forrest insisted. Alex just breathed in slowly. Michael appeared beside him then, breath smelling of vomit and nail polish remover. It was the worst smell he'd ever been forced to smell.

"You really gotta stop playing hero," Michael told him.

"Says you," Alex shot back. Forrest didn't comment, just pushed his hair back and pressed another kiss to his head. "Sorry if I get blood on your new rug."

"Hush, I don't care as long as you're okay," Forrest told him. Alex nodded, taking another deep breath.

They sat there while Kyle stitched him up, Forrest kissing his head and Michael squeezing Alex's other hand. Eventually, Kyle was done.

"Can we stay here? I don't want to move him more and I need to look over him," Kyle said. Forrest nodded.

"Yeah, whatever you need, just keep him safe," Forrest said. He sat there with Alex for a few more minutes before he managed to get himself to his feet. "Gonna go get you some water, okay?"

A few shaky steps later, Forrest was grabbing three ups and filling them with water. A hand reached around him to grab his cup and Forrest followed it to Michael. He had a billion questions, but the guy was clearly having his own rough day and the questions could be saved for the morning.

"Thank you," Forrest said, "Not sure exactly what you did, but... you helped him, I think, so... Thanks."

Michael paused in the middle of downing his water, slowly pulling it away from him mouth as he looked at Forrest. He waited for whatever kind of reaction someone has when they just saved their ex-boyfriend's life and then had that person's new boyfriend kiss them.

"You're treating him right, aren't you?" Michael asked. Forrest nodded.

"I'm doing my best," Forrest said. Michael nodded curtly.

"Good. He deserves it. Keep it up, bro," he said, voice a little awkward and disjointed. He reached out a little, hesitated, and then went through with patting Forrest on the shoulder before grabbing another cup and bringing it into the kitchen. Forrest was too overwhelmed to even process that that was weird and grabbed the final cup and following him.

Forrest knelt beside Alex and helped prop his head up to help him drink. He sighed thankfully as the water got into his system.

"You know, I usually let you slide on the explanation thing, but I think I need one this time," Forrest said to him. Alex looked at him with his warm eyes and nodded, his head resting comfortably in Forrest's palm. So he didn't move it when he let Alex's head back down.

"I will," Alex said.

"At least you got another scar for the collection, much cooler story," Michael said, a lighter tone in his voice. Alex snorted a laugh but groaned at the pain it brought him. "Sorry."

"No, you're good," Alex said, "You're right."

"There is absolutely nothing cool about being shot," Kyle scoffed.

"Shut up, Dr. McDreamy, you vote doesn't count," Michael said before looking at Forrest, "You think his scars are cool, don't you, Forrest?"

Forrest blinked at him and then looked down at Alex who was looking at him expectantly. He didn't know how to say that cool wasn't the word he'd use. Tragic, maybe, a sign of his strength. Not cool. But they made him Alex, so that was something cool.

"Yeah," Forrest agreed, "Very cool."

Alex smiled and closed his eyes and Forrest officially accepted that this was his life now.

He was absolutely okay with that.